“Stop talking!” Helian Zheng’s roar shocked the incessantly babbling Meido into abruptly closing her mouth, lifting a tear-and-snot-streaked face to look at him in alarm.
Helian Zheng didn’t look at her, pacing back and forth on the ground in frustration. Meido sobbed quietly, blood-marked feet exposed beneath her tattered leather robe. All the surrounding guards showed pitying expressions.
The guards were all Yinji tribe warriors, very familiar with Meido. Though previously somewhat dissatisfied with her arrogance, men naturally had irrepressible sympathy for distressed women. Moreover, in their view, Meido was already so miserable, and with so many guards present, what did the King still worry about? It was just delivering grain after all.
“Great King…” Of the Eight Champions guards, four had come on this trip. Dapeng was tentatively pleading. Sanjun already believed their loyal and honest King couldn’t possibly abandon Meido like this—she was his life-saving benefactor who had raised him, now fallen to such a wretched state.
So Sanjun stepped forward, taking it upon himself to help her up. Helian Zheng had his back to them and said nothing.
Meido stopped her tears, glancing at Helian Zheng’s back. Seeing him unmoved, a trace of smile appeared at her lips as she climbed onto the cart supported by Sanjun and a matron.
Helian Zheng never moved. The guards all breathed sighs of relief, laughing as they went to drive the carts.
After Meido climbed onto the cart and settled in, Helian Zheng mounted his horse, saying to Dapeng, the best cart driver among the Eight Champions: “You drive Meido’s cart.”
That guard acknowledged, climbing onto the cart shaft. Helian Zheng closed the carriage door—this was a grain cart with no windows, only doors that could be opened. To prevent grain from spilling if the cart overturned on the road, the doors had iron bolts.
Helian Zheng closed the door, raised his hand and bolted the iron latch, then raised his whip and viciously lashed the hindquarters of the horse pulling that cart!
The startled horse neighed and reared, then bolted. Meido’s screams came from inside the carriage. Dapeng on the cart shaft gripped the reins dumbfounded. Helian Zheng roared: “Drive the cart properly and take her back to the royal court!”
Dapeng frantically tried to control the reins, using all his skills to calm the frightened horse and stabilize the wildly swaying cart. Inside the lurching carriage came Meido’s explosive crying, faintly mixed with *bang bang* sounds of hitting the door—sounds like drum beats, heavily pounding on everyone’s hearts. Helian Zheng whirled around sharply, turning his back to the departing cart, fists clenched tight, eyes closed.
The guards stood frozen on the ground, completely forgetting all movement, watching as the cart dangerously but precariously regained stability under Dapeng’s desperate control, only then breathing a sigh of relief. Yet those dull thudding sounds seemed to still faintly echo in their ears.
“King!” The straightforward grassland men disapprovingly shouted in unison.
The King was actually this biased! This heartless! Was this still the King in their hearts who distinguished clearly between gratitude and grievance, righteous and courageous?
“Twenty men go, catch up and escort her.” But Helian Zheng seemed to have lost all strength, unable to hear the crowd’s dissatisfaction. He wearily waved his hand, dragging his feet as he mounted his horse.
The guards looked at their King with unfamiliar eyes. For a long time, no one moved. Sanjun stared blankly at that cart for a long moment, fiercely stomped his feet, then raised his hand and lashed a guard with his whip.
“You’re told to go chase them, why aren’t you going!”
Twenty guards were driven onto horses, chasing after the cart. The remaining guards looked at each other, utterly silent. Their previous cheerful laughter had flown to the clouds.
Sanjun drove the cart with his head down, ignoring everyone. Helian Zheng sat upright on his horse, saying nothing.
He wasn’t stupid—he could feel the surrounding guards’ disappointment. They’d always loved and revered him like a god. Today his seemingly unreasonable heartlessness made their god fall from the clouds.
Building an idol might require years of cultivation, but collapse and destruction often happened in an instant.
Grassland men didn’t understand so many concerns, difficulties, or priorities for the greater good. They only knew: debts of gratitude must be repaid, the distressed must be helped.
This was the first time Helian Zheng felt surrounded entirely by hostility and dissatisfaction. Only now did he know how unbearable this taste was.
He raised his head, exhaling a long breath. In the distance, floating clouds wended along like ten thousand galloping horses. In a trance, they were the black-armored blue-robed Shunyi Iron Cavalry, bright long blades urging swift horses, galloping blood-soaked across the vast Northern Frontier lands. At the vanguard of ten thousand, a black-clad soft-armored youth led the charge, displaying between heaven and earth a graceful yet fierce smile.
Zhiwei.
I cannot bring even the slightest danger to your side, even if it’s only the smallest possibility. I cannot.
Even if this makes me the target of universal condemnation.
I accept it!
“The Baitou Mountain path has been mostly cleared.” Feng Zhiwei was finalizing plans with her subordinates behind a hidden low mountain. “The final section is a cliff face—fortunately not very steep, but descending silently won’t be easy. So we’ll select only the most elite for the raid. I’ll lead them, charging straight through from behind to Jin Siyu’s command tent. The rest, led by Chunyu and Yangyu with warhorses—hooves wrapped in grass, bits in mouths—will wait five li outside the main camp at Bailingnao. Red flag flowers as the signal. Once we breach the command tent here, immediately launch a frontal assault there.”
“I’m going with you!” Yao Yangyu refused outright.
“You cannot.” Feng Zhiwei’s answer was even more decisive. “Your martial skills aren’t good enough.”
Several wastrels stretched their necks like fighting cocks glaring at Feng Zhiwei. Feng Zhiwei didn’t even glance at them. Chunyu Meng laughed gleefully, acting like “if I can’t go, none of you should think about it either.”
“We’ll be very careful!” Yao Yangyu pleaded again. Looking toward Baitou Mountain’s direction, he felt vague unease in his heart.
“You’d only be a burden following me.” Feng Zhiwei showed no mercy. “You think having you directly assault the main camp is easy work? The main camp has a hundred thousand troops!”
“Then why are you taking her?” Yu Liang jerked his head toward Hua Qiong in dissatisfaction.
Hua Qiong instantly drew her twin blades from her waist with a *whoosh*, flashing them at Yu Liang. “Why? Let blades do the talking!”
Yu Liang could only glare speechlessly. Both were late starters in martial arts, but she simply learned better than him. What could he do?
“Black Widow!”
“Pretty boy!”
Over there they quarreled like fighting cocks. Over here, Feng Zhiwei seemed not to hear.
“Master Zong will follow your group.” Feng Zhiwei said. “I’ve scouted the terrain. Behind that cliff is an inconspicuous cave—if things go wrong we can retreat through it. Actually, there’s not much danger. Your side charging the main camp ten against one will be much harder than ours. Don’t worry, Brother Gu will be with me.”
Yao Yangyu wanted to say more, but Feng Zhiwei had already stood up decisively. Suddenly *bang*—a figure flew down from the sky.
That person landed awkwardly in a faceplant.
In the distance, Young Master Gu dusted off his hands, saying: “Eavesdropping.” He slowly strolled away.
The person on the ground struggled to raise his head—it was Wei Yu, the colonel Ning Yi had sent. Feng Zhiwei naturally wouldn’t let him participate in top-secret military planning meetings.
“General…” Wei Yu climbed up. Meeting Feng Zhiwei’s half-smiling eyes, he shuddered yet said urgently: “Your plan is too risky…”
“Are you planning to report to Prince Chu?” Feng Zhiwei interrupted him.
Wei Yu actually nodded, looking at her earnestly. “General, before I came, His Highness personally instructed me—no matter what ideas you have, please definitely heed the words he asked Colonel Yao to convey. He also told me that whatever news there is, I must report it to him. This is the King’s command. I… cannot disobey.”
“Then go report.” Feng Zhiwei’s answer was also unexpected. She clapped her hands. Young Master Gu led over a lame donkey.
The donkey was extremely ugly, extremely old, extremely decrepit, eye corners crusted with discharge, gaze and breathing feeble.
Feng Zhiwei looked admiringly at Young Master Gu. She’d only said to find a donkey—it truly amazed her where he’d found one decrepit to such earth-shattering degree.
Wei Yu looked at its emaciated back sharp as a blade that sitting on it might slice open buttocks, his expression more bitter than bitter melon.
A hundred li journey, using this donkey to return and report? By the time he arrived, the battle would definitely be long over.
“Go ahead.” Feng Zhiwei kindly placed him on the donkey’s back, slapped its hindquarters. The old donkey shuffled out like a snail. “Remember to send my regards to His Highness. Don’t bother returning this donkey—say I’m sending it to him to nourish his body. Fresh flowers suit beauties, treasure donkeys for worthy princes. Wei Zhi’s filial devotion—please ask His Highness to definitely accept with grace.”
Wei Yu rode the donkey away with a bitter face to “report.” Feng Zhiwei looked up at the sky, saying: “Helian Zheng will deliver grain soon. After eating our fill, we depart. Success or failure—all hinges on tonight’s second watch!”
Autumn night wind swept across grass tips, rustling sounds, making bonfires flicker as if about to extinguish.
The crying sounds from the horse cart never stopped.
Dapeng sighed, taking roasted mutton from the fire pile, walked to the cart’s side, softly saying: “Aunt Meido, eat something.”
His answer was an even higher-pitched miserable crying.
“The King is too heartless!” A guard sitting by the fire said with a dark expression, unable to help himself. “Even if Auntie followed along, what would it matter? She can’t even move now. What does the King fear?”
“Honestly, I think Auntie was exactly right—she can’t be sent back to the royal court.” Another guard frowned. “The Grand Consort, you all know, is extremely formidable. If Auntie returns like this, the Grand Consort might really send her back to Dezhou.”
“How could she go back!” Someone else joined in angrily. “Look what she’s become!”
“Central Plains women are just scheming, best at competing for favor!”
“Exactly!”
“Don’t gossip about nobles behind their backs!” Dapeng walked over, sternly shouting. Everyone quieted down, but after silent moments couldn’t help themselves. Someone said: “Lord Dapeng, look—Auntie’s already like this. Not eating or drinking, crying all day. I fear before reaching the royal court, she’ll…”
Dapeng’s expression changed. These words struck precisely his worry. The King had entrusted Meido to him—if something happened on the way, how would he answer to the King?
“I’ll go persuade her.” He stood, walking toward the cart.
“Auntie, eat something. You must hold on until the King returns at least.” Dapeng crouched by the cart door, earnestly persuading.
“Can I wait for his return?” After a long moment accompanied by sobbing sounds, Meido’s voice drifted out faintly.
She finally deigned to respond. Dapeng’s heart leaped with joy. “Hold on a bit. The King will return soon—after all, it’s only half a day’s journey…”
Meido suddenly stopped talking. After a long moment, she said quietly: “I don’t want to return to the royal court.”
Dapeng rubbed his hands in difficulty. Meido said: “Could we just wait for him here?”
Dapeng froze, hesitating: “This…”
Seeing him waver, Meido immediately continued: “We’re on the road back to the royal court. You can say something delayed us. The King just didn’t want me following him, but didn’t say I couldn’t wait for him halfway. I… I don’t dare return to the royal court…”
She started crying again, voice mournful. Dapeng, smelling the medicinal odor and faint putrid smell emanating from the carriage, felt his heart ache.
Several guards walked over, all urging him. Dapeng finally nodded.
Meido’s crying gradually lowered. Dapeng sighed, getting off the cart. Seeing a low stone mountain not far nearby, he ordered guards to drive carts and horses into the mountain hollow.
Meido seemed in somewhat better spirits, even getting off the cart to sit by the bonfire, speaking quietly with the guards, personally roasting some mutton and passing it to the guards’ hands. The guards, seeing her haggard face with sincere eyes, all felt heartache and ate her roasted meat with particular satisfaction.
But Dapeng never approached the fire, never approached Meido again, very dutifully keeping watch from high ground. Though the grasslands were currently unified, as a personal guard of Helian Zheng who deeply knew Huzhuo tribe’s internal undercurrents, Dapeng dared not be careless.
Suddenly hearing Meido call him from behind, Dapeng turned his head. Vaguely seeing the guards by the fire pile had all fallen asleep, alarm rose in his heart. Before this feeling fully flashed through his mind, he suddenly felt great force push from behind. Then his head spun and he fell heavily from the rocks.
A dark shadow silently floated over from behind him, lazily stepping on his back, smiling at Meido standing by the fire pile: “Good thing you were clever, knowing to stop here. Going further, royal court guards would frequently appear. I wouldn’t dare act casually.”
Meido looked at him, sharp vicious intent flashing through her eyes before she coldly turned her face away without acknowledging him.
“Don’t be like that.” Kelei floated over with a smile, touching her face. “You should be happier. Soon, your king will return to your side.”
Meido turned her face away in disgust. “Don’t touch me!” Then looking at Dapeng dangling from his hand, puzzled: “Why must you have me find out where the King is going? You’re not trying to harm him, are you?”
“Don’t ask so much.” Kelei smiled. “In any case, only by listening to me can you return to your King’s side. But Helian Zheng is truly ruthless—you like this, pleading with him that way, yet he still wouldn’t let you follow. I followed him but was nearly discovered by dark agents sent out by Wei Zhi’s side. Fortunately, you left me an opening here.”
“Just now I asked those guards.” Meido said. “They don’t know where the King is going. Each time grain delivery nears, others come to receive it. But I think Dapeng should know.”
“Mm.” Kelei’s slender eyes flashed ghostly light, expression showing keen interest. “I have several pieces of good news. I’m sure that Prince An of Great Yue will be very interested…”
As the sky darkened, cart and horse sounds approached, driving near the small mountain hollow behind Baitou Mountain where Feng Zhiwei was stationed.
“Huzhuo tribe’s delivery has arrived.” Joy flashed in Feng Zhiwei’s eyes as she quickly went to receive it. Immediately she heard someone laugh: “Helian Zheng has fulfilled his mission, delivering on time.”
“Why did you come personally?” Feng Zhiwei was both surprised and delighted. Helian Zheng strode over, personally directing guards to unload items from the carts. “Besides grain from Yuzhou, I brought a batch of beef jerky, mutton, and cheese the tribespeople cured themselves, plus curved blades forged by Huzhuo blacksmiths. The warriors are used to grassland food and their own weapons—most efficient!”
“Rare for you to be so thoughtful.” Feng Zhiwei smiled with pursed lips. “Grain here is still adequate, just not much left. Beef jerky, mutton, cheese and such—distribute immediately. Everyone eat their fill!”
Yao Yangyu and the others didn’t think much of it, but the Huzhuo cavalry captains all cheered. Campaigning away from home, tired of gnawing Central Plains dry rations and flatbread—tonight they could eat familiar foods. Everyone was very excited.
Helian Zheng looked at Feng Zhiwei, examining her up, down, left and right. After a long moment he frowned: “Seems thinner?”
Glancing at Yao Yangyu and the others, Feng Zhiwei feared King Helian couldn’t control saying something inappropriate, quickly saying: “Aren’t you going to arrange the meals and prepare early?”
Yao Yangyu glanced at Helian Zheng, said “Oh,” and led his brothers out of the tent, muttering as he walked: “The General really has good luck with men…”
Helian Zheng vaguely heard and laughed with a *puff*. Feng Zhiwei said resentfully: “Bastard kid, lawless!”
Her tone was reproachful, yet her eyes held smiling intent, flashing brilliantly in the dusk’s dark hues.
Helian Zheng looked at her misty yet crystal-bright eyes. His chest full of words suddenly congealed at his lips. Questions he’d planned to ask on the road, doubts to express—at this moment he suddenly lost all interest in voicing them. What to ask? Someone with such eyes could never do such venomous things.
She might scheme deeply, might use any means necessary, but her malice always had its reasons and principles.
Helian Zheng smiled slightly, feeling as if a great stone had lifted from his heart, his whole body relaxed. Suddenly hearing the perceptive woman beside him ask: “You seem to want to say something?”
“No, nothing.” Helian Zheng shook his head, looking sincerely at Feng Zhiwei. “I just feel that by your side, I’m very relaxed.”
“Fool.” Feng Zhiwei laughed softly, eyes slightly pleased.
Young Master Gu entering from outside saw Helian Zheng and suddenly floated over, blocking before him. Even through the veil, his eyes could be seen shining brightly.
Helian Zheng patted his head, laughing: “Want to ask about your Zhixiao, right? Hmm…”
He hesitated. With this hesitation, Young Master Gu immediately stepped closer several paces. Even Feng Zhiwei turned her head.
“It’s nothing really.” Helian Zheng quickly smiled. “Some days ago she started having fever and diarrhea, restless and uneasy. The royal court physician examined her, said it’s nothing, but by the time I left, the fever still hadn’t subsided.”
Young Master Gu immediately turned to look at Zong Chen. Zong Chen frowned, asking: “Fever? Did they check her tongue coating? Any coughing?”
After asking several questions which Helian Zheng answered one by one, Zong Chen frowned. Feng Zhiwei already said: “Could it be measles eruption?”
Zong Chen remained silent. After a long moment: “Without seeing the patient’s symptoms personally, I cannot be certain.”
These words coming from his mouth made everyone more cautious. Young Master Gu didn’t quite understand what measles eruption meant, turning to look at Feng Zhiwei. Feng Zhiwei said: “It’s fine. Otherwise, please have Master Zong return to check. “
“Cannot. Current circumstances rely greatly on Master Zong’s strength. Absolutely cannot leave the army.” Helian Zheng immediately vetoed. Even Young Master Gu was shaking his head.
Feng Zhiwei glanced at Gu Nanyi. His head shook resolutely, yet his eyes looked toward the royal court direction. Clearly he’d already heard the danger within, yet still for her safety refused to let Zong Chen leave.
Others weren’t clear, but Feng Zhiwei understood best Zhixiao’s position in his heart. This child he’d actively embraced and personally raised for the first time in his life was the key to his soul, the gateway to his heart. It was on that soft small body he’d learned emotions like warmth, softness, joy, and tender affection, treasuring her as he treasured his own life.
“Helian, Zhixiao was born in the south. Her constitution isn’t as robust as your grassland children’s. Your grassland witch doctors also lack experience compared to Han physicians in this regard. If this turns out to be smallpox, it cannot be taken lightly. I think we should let Master Zong make the trip—quick there and back.”
Helian Zheng remained silent, inconvenient to object further, only furrowing his thick brows. Young Master Gu kept shaking his head while staring toward the royal court direction. Feng Zhiwei had already resolutely pushed Zong Chen out. Helian Zheng sighed, leading over his Yue horse. “I must trouble you for this hardship, Master. Quick there and back.”
Zong Chen left a packet of medicine. “This is the Panacea Pill I developed. Effective against most poisons. Keep it with you.”
All three acknowledged, watching Zong Chen hurriedly depart. Feng Zhiwei squeezed the hand of Young Master Gu who stood on tiptoes watching Zong Chen’s departure, consoling: “It’s fine. Not to mention it may not be smallpox—even if it is, with Master Zong taking action, what do you have to fear?”
Young Master Gu contemplated a moment, then also patted her hand, saying: “With you here, everyone here, there’s nothing to fear.”
Feng Zhiwei paused, smiling gently, grasping his hand. “Rest assured, everyone’s here.”
Yao Yangyu left the tent and went to check on the mess cook. In the large pot bubbled hot wild buffalo meat—a smell that to Central Plains people was overpoweringly gamey, but grassland men all crowded around the pot drooling saying “fragrant, so fragrant.”
Yao Yangyu, smelling that odor, wrinkled his brow. Suddenly recalling General Wei clutching her own throat behind the hillside forcing down cheese—the General wasn’t used to this particularly strong-smelling grassland food either, was she?
“Why are you still cooking stored grain? Didn’t new grain arrive?” He stared at the yellowing rice in the pot. “During the recent rainstorm, some millet got damp and has a strange smell.”
“The General’s orders.” The cook smiled. “No waste—use up old grain first.”
“Then cook a small pot of fresh rice porridge.” Yao Yangyu hesitated, then rummaged through the delivered items, delighted: “There are even vegetables and eggs! Quickly pick the good ones, carefully stir-fry a few dishes to send to the General’s tent. If asked, say I ordered it.”
“Good.” The cook worked with nimble hands and feet, smiling: “Colonel Yao is still most considerate of the General. Honestly, the General truly works hard…”
Yao Yangyu laughed heartily, greedily leaning over the greens to sniff, then reluctantly walked away to squeeze with soldiers around the mutton pot waiting for dinner.
When dinner was sent to the command tent that evening, Feng Zhiwei frowned upon seeing it, yet looking at Young Master Gu, said nothing.
Little Blockhead was pitiable too. He disliked mutton even more than she did, always swallowing it with eyes closed. Fighting here in the Northern Frontier, even walnut supplies couldn’t keep up. Every time Feng Zhiwei saw the several empty walnut pouches at his waist, she felt heartache.
Can’t hold his daughter, can’t eat walnuts—if she didn’t give him a bite of fresh vegetables now, even with Feng Zhiwei’s thick face she’d feel too embarrassed.
“Why don’t you go eat mutton.” Feng Zhiwei pushed Helian Zheng. “We’ll drink porridge here.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Helian Zheng squeezed to sit beside her, first grabbing a bowl of porridge and taking a sip. “Don’t think you can hide and eat alone.”
Feng Zhiwei smiled, serving vegetables to Little Gu who buried his head in his bowl, also saying: “After eating, go back. The royal court can’t do without you for a single day.”
Helian Zheng ignored her, serving vegetables into her bowl.
Feng Zhiwei blocked her bowl.
Helian Zheng’s chopsticks didn’t release, raising his eyes to look at her. His amber-purple eyes gleamed brightly, almost oppressively.
“Master Zong has already left. I cannot leave too.” He said. “I’ll crawl there if I must.”
“Your status is precious…” Feng Zhiwei tried to persuade. Helian Zheng buried his head eating rice, ignoring her.
Knowing this fellow when stubborn couldn’t be pulled back by eight oxen, Feng Zhiwei sighed. The three hastily finished eating. The simple few dishes were swept clean. Young Master Gu ate especially much—he’d missed Central Plains vegetables for a long time.
Chunyu Meng entered fully equipped. “General, we’ll depart first.”
“See you below Baitou Cliff.” Feng Zhiwei smiled.
“See you below Baitou Cliff.” Chunyu Meng’s eyes flashed with excited light. He left. Low powerful command sounds arose. Nine thousand cavalry headed straight for Bailingnao.
“We should also prepare.” Feng Zhiwei entered the rear tent, changing into tight black clothing, then emerged startled to find not only had Helian Zheng changed clothes, but even Young Master Gu who always wore sky-water blue soft flowing robes had changed into tight black night-travel clothing.
Feng Zhiwei knew such tight clothing of not particularly good material was as uncomfortable for someone like Young Master Gu as torture. She quickly said: “Brother Gu, it’s fine. Your martial arts needn’t fear discovery…”
“Your safety is most important.” Young Master Gu’s flat reply came before he flashed out in a blink.
The three hundred elite night warriors selected and led by Hua Qiong were already waiting outside the tent for Feng Zhiwei.
Looking up at the sky, night was dark and deep. Misty fog flowed across the grasslands. Before leaving, Zong Chen had predicted fog tonight—the best opportunity for action.
Ahead, wild grass parted, revealing a small path wending deep into the mountains.
People’s gazes burned intensely, waiting for Feng Zhiwei’s pre-battle mobilization. But Feng Zhiwei said not a word, only silently slashing her palm downward toward Baitou Mountain!
Her movement was vigorous and powerful, killing intent severe. In darkness, black robes flashed like a chillingly cold lightning bolt striking down!
Everyone was ignited by the wordless resolve and severity of that action, until their blood boiled and their gazes blazed.
Snow-bright light flashed. Hua Qiong’s twin blades waved, charging out first.
Over three hundred formed a serpent formation. All weapons painted black, wearing tight black clothes with soft thin-soled boots, long ropes at their waists, slightly bent at waist and knees, advancing rapidly on the grass path.
In darkness, dark shadows like wind crossing grass, sweeping past like flowing waves. Clothes rubbing long grass made *swish swish* sounds mixing with distant howling winds.
Reaching Baitou Cliff top, Feng Zhiwei made a hand signal. Everyone stopped.
Lying atop the cliff surveying below, Jin Siyu’s main camp stretched ten li continuously. Lights dim and sunken, patrolling night-watch soldiers came and went incessantly, very densely. All tents looked identical—impossible to discern which was the command tent.
Feng Zhiwei closed her eyes. The terrain map below the cliff slowly unfolded in her mind. After a long moment she opened her eyes, pointing in a certain direction.
Helian Zheng beside her nodded in approval, gesturing. Everyone tied ropes and descended in single file.
Feng Zhiwei and Gu Nanyi were at the very front, rapidly descending the cliff, landing silently.
A patrol squad approached. Feng Zhiwei silently rolled behind a tent. The soldiers passed completely unaware. Feng Zhiwei shot out like lightning.
The soldier only felt his lantern’s light and shadow flicker, as if some long black shadow swept past. Before he could turn around, he felt his throat turn cold.
His body went limp, falling into Feng Zhiwei’s arm. Feng Zhiwei, choking his neck, dragged him behind the tent, gently laying down his corpse, rapidly stripping off clothes to put on herself, but slipping a thin red cloth strip on her arm.
This was to identify their own people in the coming chaos.
Beside her, two more corpses were laid down. Helian Zheng and Gu Nanyi followed suit, changing into Great Yue soldier clothing. The three silently signaled each other, separately pouncing out.
A patrol squad saw someone approaching with a lantern, face blurred in the backlight. Just about to ask the password, they suddenly felt brilliant light flash before their eyes.
After the brightness—eternal darkness.
Two more soldiers were slacking off, hiding behind a pile of rocks sharing secretly hidden rations. Suddenly seeing someone approach, lantern light shining directly on their faces, they panicked trying to hide the rations. Hands just moving behind their backs, they saw their own heads fall to the ground.
The heads fallen to ground magically still saw the rations hadn’t fallen, speared on someone’s extended sword tip.
In the dark night, the three were like demons, carrying killing intent and blood hues, soundlessly eliminating the densest patrols and hidden sentries around the command tent and important generals.
Then Feng Zhiwei raised her hand, approaching the cliff wall, making a gesture.
*Whoosh*—a light sound. Hua Qiong landed beside her. Then the three hundred who’d been waiting long continuously leaped down.
Each person’s landing sound was extremely light. Those landing off-target not reaching grass, Young Master Gu timely struck out palms, sending them to soundlessly land on grass.
Feng Zhiwei indicated several tents. Everyone received orders and dispersed.
In the night, three hundred life-reaping night travelers darted between tents. Black long blades like cold lightning, appearing and disappearing among flesh and blood. Those dull sounds of blade edges rubbing flesh and blood were drowned by autumn night’s continuously chirping insects.
Feng Zhiwei’s trio pressed close to Jin Siyu’s tent.
Though looking identical to other tents, if one dared approach, one would discover this tent’s uniqueness—most strictly guarded, best positioned, all tents subtly encircling and protecting it.
Jin Siyu hadn’t slept yet. The tent was brilliantly lit, but seemingly no one else inside. His shadow cast long on the tent curtain.
That bright lamplight made approach nearly impossible. The three practically crawled across the ground. Even with their martial skills, it took a full quarter-hour to eliminate all hidden sentries.
Lying on the grass, muscles highly tensed, Feng Zhiwei rapidly discussed with Helian Zheng using finger signals which method was best for entering Jin Siyu’s tent. Suddenly hearing hurried footsteps.
All three bodies tightened, lying even lower.
Helian Zheng rapidly signaled Feng Zhiwei: “Need to withdraw?”
Feng Zhiwei shook her head, indicating wait.
With this head shake, she suddenly felt her vision darken.
She froze, first thinking perhaps she was over-tense. Then immediately felt something wrong.
Her head somewhat dizzy, body somewhat weak, strength within flowing out like spring water. She even felt herself growing so weak she’d float upward.
Worse, because of this strange sensation, the long-silent scorching heat within roared out from her dantian, like a fire dragon scorching along her meridians. Almost instantly, she soaked the earth beneath her with sweat.
In this instant, Feng Zhiwei made three movements.
First, looking around at Hua Qiong and others still assassinating—those darting black shadows proved they weren’t affected at all.
Second, looking at Helian Zheng and Gu Nanyi beside her—both currently showed no abnormality, but Feng Zhiwei was certain that since those eating communal mess outside were fine, the problem lay in tonight’s vegetables and rice porridge. Not necessarily poison, but definitely problematic. All three had eaten it. No one could escape. Only because she had chronic illness did it attack fastest.
Third movement—she suddenly struck out, delivering a horizontal palm strike, slapping heavily against the backs of both men’s necks!
This slap used all her remaining strength. Those two, even if they suspected everyone in the world, wouldn’t guard against her one bit. Without a sound, they were struck unconscious. Even Gu Nanyi couldn’t escape.
Having knocked both unconscious, Feng Zhiwei struggled to support herself up, fixing on the person who’d just hurried over with urgent footsteps.
That person wore general’s garb, seemingly in great haste, completely failing to notice the main tent’s surrounding guards had vanished. Behind him followed another person, that person’s appearance somewhat disheveled, yet movement style somewhat distinctive.
Watching that movement style from afar, Feng Zhiwei’s heart thundered. In extreme busyness with no time to consult anyone beside her, she immediately issued a cricket chirp.
This was her predetermined withdrawal signal.
A dark shadow flashed. Hua Qiong and Helian Zheng’s Eight Champions guards came to her side. Feng Zhiwei, watching those two charge into Jin Siyu’s tent, signaled to the Eight Champions to drag away Helian Zheng and Gu Nanyi.
Her signal read: “Change of plans! Rapid withdrawal!”
The Eight Champions froze there, not knowing why things suddenly changed. But Hua Qiong reacted quickly, immediately issuing another cricket chirp. Darting dark shadows everywhere all paused, then like black sand flowing back into a bottle, gathered to Hua Qiong’s side, orderly and organized, re-ascending the cliff.
Vaguely hearing sounds from inside the command tent, hearing Jin Siyu ask: “Why only now…”
Then the arrival answered: “Small hitch, got entangled, quickly…”
The voice transmitted blurrily. Then Jin Siyu quickly pushed aside the curtain emerging. Just about to speak, commotion arose at the camp’s front gate. Through firelight, someone else burst in. This time someone intercepted. From afar that person shouted and leaped, seemingly yelling something, but too distant to hear clearly.
More panicked soldiers rushed over urgently reporting multiple generals killed in their tents. Feng Zhiwei, seizing Jin Siyu’s frozen moment at the tent entrance, fiercely pushed Sanjun, hissing: “Plans changed! Quickly take the King and Lord Gu away!”
Erhu and Sanjun from the Eight Champions hastily shouldered both men, running to the cliff base. Those already climbed up lowered ropes.
But Hua Qiong wouldn’t leave, gripping twin blades watching Feng Zhiwei. Feng Zhiwei struggled to maintain composed calm expression, smiling: “I just suddenly had a better idea. See that person at the camp gate? That’s also a chess piece I planted. Just watch!”
Hua Qiong looked somewhat confused at Feng Zhiwei, not knowing what trick she had up her sleeve. Feng Zhiwei sweated profusely, secretly using her long blade to support her swaying legs, smiling through gritted teeth: “Hurry away, don’t ruin my plan!”
Then she raised her hand, fingers pulling. *Boom*—releasing the signal flag flower.
As the flag flower released, Feng Zhiwei kicked Hua Qiong toward the cliff edge. Though the massive brightness caused shocked cries and surging crowds, everyone was forced by that brilliant light unable to open their eyes. Hua Qiong, startled by Feng Zhiwei suddenly releasing the signal, instinctively scrambled up the cliff.
From the command tent rushed Jin Siyu and Kelei, both faces iron-blue. After the massive brightness, Jin Siyu whirled around sharply, immediately seeing figures on the cliff wall, including Sanjun and Erhu who hadn’t yet reached the cliff top, carrying people thus moving slowly, both only halfway up.
Jin Siyu laughed coldly, raising his hand. Already his palm held a curved bow, bow bearing heavy black arrow. He raised bow and drew arm, bowstring *creaking* as he aimed directly at Helian Zheng’s back in mid-air.
His aim was precise. Though many people still hadn’t climbed up the cliff, clearly those being carried up were likely important figures. Without thinking, he aimed straight at Helian Zheng.
Feng Zhiwei immediately raised her hand, throwing a backup flag flower. She didn’t strike Jin Siyu but threw it at torches before the tent. *Boom*—brilliant stars exploded. Jin Siyu and Kelei were both forced backward by the sound and brightness, the heavy arrow missing.
By now Great Yue’s main camp was in chaos. People rushed from camp in alarm, not knowing what happened. Jin Siyu quickly organized, pacified, commanded responses, momentarily unable to again attack the cliff. Kelei followed beside Jin Siyu. Seeing Feng Zhiwei, his eyes brightened. About to tell Jin Siyu words he hadn’t finished saying, also wanting to seize a soldier’s blade to cut the ropes on the cliff, suddenly someone nearby shrieked: “Kelei!”
Kelei whirled around. Someone covered in blood threw himself forward, hugging his neck and biting with open mouth.
Kelei cursed: “You again!”
In firelight, utter chaos. For an instant everyone froze. Only Feng Zhiwei remained clear. Seizing Kelei and Jin Siyu’s inattention, she rolled toward the cliff rear, pushing aside wild grass, finding that previously mentioned hidden cave, diving headfirst inside.
Peering out through cave crevices, she discovered the one who’d rushed into camp in chaos was actually Dapeng, one of Helian Zheng’s Eight Champions—covered in blood, clothes disheveled, expression crazed, deadly entangling Kelei. How he’d appeared here, how he’d become like this in mortal struggle with Kelei, she didn’t know.
Kelei also cursed his bad luck. He’d used his sect’s mind-control technique on Dapeng to learn where Helian Zheng was going, vaguely guessing what they planned, immediately rushing to report to Jin Siyu. Who knew Dapeng’s will was so resolute—after being controlled, he actually woke himself, but his mind consequently became unclear, only remembering he’d betrayed his king. In agonized regret, he hated Kelei extremely, actually pursuing him this whole way. His martial skills were already the best among Helian Zheng’s subordinates. After going berserk, his strength surged. Kelei was actually entangled by him the entire way, delaying arrival at camp. Otherwise Feng Zhiwei’s forces would have been completely annihilated long ago.
Now with camp in turmoil, Dapeng had charged all the way in. Recognizing his master on the cliff, seeing Kelei added new hatred to old grudges. He threw himself forward embracing Kelei, opening his mouth and chomping straight at Kelei’s throat!
Kelei, caught off guard, tilted his head. His throat was already bitten open by Dapeng’s sharp teeth, blood spurting. Overwhelmed by sudden fury, he grabbed a blade and stabbed wildly at Dapeng. Dapeng roared *ao ao*, flesh becoming pulp yet refusing to let go, only bringing his mouth closer, desperately tearing and biting.
Both rolled to the ground like wild beasts, struggling and biting, *whoosh whoosh* gasping amid flying flesh and blood. Blood marks rolled out across the ground in sheets—so brutal even Jin Siyu froze there.
“Big brother!”
Heart-rending roars came from the cliff. Sanjun and Erhu whirled around sharply, eyes bursting with bloody tears. Releasing their grips they wanted to jump down, yet halted mid-action, fingers gripping cliff rocks splitting their nails!
“Shoot!” Jin Siyu pointed at the cliff, coldly commanding.
Feng Zhiwei looked up and saw Sanjun and Erhu already at the edge of the cliff, only an arm’s length away from their supporting party. She immediately tore off her mask, her hair falling loose across her face, and rushed out from her hiding cave.
Rather than saying she rushed, more accurate to say she rolled. Strength already drained completely, yet the inner fire still blazingly burned. This roll sent her rolling toward Jin Siyu’s feet. Jin Siyu only saw a black shadow flash, then blade light poured out like snow!
Greatly shocked yet startled, but not flustered, Jin Siyu leaped up. But Feng Zhiwei seemed to have anticipated his movement—after a horizontal slash, she immediately turned the blade vertically, the tip viciously aiming straight at Jin Siyu’s groin above her head!
Jin Siyu shocked again, mid-air hastily pressed legs together rolling backward, landing awkwardly. He danced out a sword flower *whoosh whoosh*, preparing for Feng Zhiwei’s next vicious move. But saw Feng Zhiwei lying lazily on the ground, limply waving, making a “you can rest now” gesture.
Jin Siyu’s face turned iron-blue. Looking up, he saw that Sanjun and Erhu had climbed the cliff, swiftly vanishing into the night with their backup.
He snorted angrily, striding forward, long sword unsheathing. Cold light flashed, slashing straight toward Feng Zhiwei’s back!
Feng Zhiwei didn’t move. She had no strength left. Lying on the ground hearing ten thousand galloping horses like drums—whether her own heartbeat or Yao Yangyu’s cavalry about to arrive, she didn’t know.
Though tonight went wrong, the plan wasn’t completely failed. Pity she herself wouldn’t survive.
This body of heavy concerns carried since Mother’s death—seeing it about to scatter to ash with her own death, Feng Zhiwei now felt no regret. Instead, faint relief—dying was also good. No longer facing so many burning pains and impossible dilemmas.
She smiled faintly. In the snow-bright blade light, she saw magnificent halls, jade stairs layered a thousand-fold, and a dragon-and-phoenix gilded treasure throne slowly seating a splendid yet refined man…
Or perhaps atop pure white snowy mountains, the sky-water blue youth holding a babbling adorable little girl, smiling vastly at the four seas and broad world.
Or perhaps a brilliantly dashing man, mounted and galloping, flying across ten thousand grassland li…
*Clang!*
Ear-piercing metal scraping sounded at her side. Sparks flashed before her eyes, forcing Feng Zhiwei to squint.
Someone rolled down beside her, gasping. Feng Zhiwei turned her head, seeing mud-covered Hua Qiong.
She stared at Hua Qiong, not asking why she had returned. But Hua Qiong, displaying a fearless smile on the muddy ground, said in a clear voice, “Hey, playing hero without taking me along?”
Feng Zhiwei gazed steadily at her. Two mud-and-blood-covered women smiled at each other on the ground. Overhead, thousand blades forming nets, ten thousand swords pointing at hearts—as if unseen.
At this moment, some subordinates who hadn’t managed to climb up saw Feng Zhiwei and Hua Qiong trapped, all cutting their own ropes and turning back to charge over.
Feng Zhiwei gritted her teeth supporting herself up on elbows. Hua Qiong supported her. Both mutually supporting, using blades to support the ground, coldly smiling at surrounding enemy forces ten thousand times their number.
Then, defiantly swinging blades.
Blood splashed—one blade one life, one step killing one person. Feng Zhiwei knew at this moment Bailingnao cavalry hadn’t arrived. If Helian Zheng and Gu Nanyi were caught up to, those people couldn’t protect their lives. She’d never loved fighting desperately, yet now had no choice but to fight.
She had no strength, using feints to lure people close, then Hua Qiong striking to finish them. Both cooperated seamlessly. Soon corpses layered at their feet. That blood and minced flesh splashed on faces, yet no time or strength to wipe away.
And outer circle—Huzhuo warrior corpses also layered and layered.
Just as they backed against each other, strength exhausted yet continuously swinging blades, only to echo brothers’ desperate charges.
Huzhuo elites also repeatedly futilely yet never abandoning charges toward Great Yue army encirclement, not hesitating to pave roads with flesh and blood, only to approach them one fraction closer.
Life and death entrusted, no retreat.
Those bodies throwing themselves at blade and arrow, those deaths unfearing cold steel.
That battle’s tragic fierceness and death’s heroism.
“Good sister…” In fierce battle, Feng Zhiwei lightly turned her head, gasping in Hua Qiong’s ear: “Chunyu Meng and Yao Yangyu are coming soon, hold on a bit… Behind here is a cave, when the moment comes amid chaos… hide a while… there’s still hope…”
“Go together, wait together.” Hua Qiong’s blade slapped away a thrusting spear. Her arm weakened. A long blade like a viper drilled toward her heart. Feng Zhiwei lightning-fast raised her sword, striking with all strength. The long blade deflected. Feng Zhiwei spat blood, yet smiled: “Aim… poor!”
Hua Qiong immediately slashed that soldier frozen by Feng Zhiwei’s smile, blade severing his arm. Blood splattered as she coughed up blood from exhaustion but laughed loudly: “Mine is called… accurate!”
Jin Siyu stood distant outside the crowd, fixing on those two women. Earlier he hadn’t again ordered arrow volleys because in angry fury he intended to exhaust both to death. Unexpectedly they fought so courageously—their desperate fierceness surpassed men!
When did Tiansheng produce such women?
He stood at a distance outside the encircling firelight. The shifting light and shadow seemed to sway his emotions, too—shocked by the fearless Huzhuo warriors advancing relentlessly, shocked by that near-gentle smile amid the blood rain, shocked by the vivid, resolute woman’s fearless yet sorrowful eyes in a single glance.
He suddenly strode forward, backhand drawing blade.
*Smack!*
Blade back fiercely struck Feng Zhiwei’s forehead.
Brain pain, vision blackening. Feng Zhiwei’s last glance at Hua Qiong beside her. Hearing distant cavalry hoofbeats finally breaking through camp gates.
Sinking into darkness, she told herself:
I must survive.