Huang Beishuang looked back at them and smiled, “Are you still following me?”
The thirteen people exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
Huang Beishuang also smiled, and they all began riding towards Fen Tian.
Neither Tiandu nor Yunpei would attack E’nati anymore. Who won or lost made little difference to E’nati. The only concern was the Wild Blood King Ruo Wen, stationed at Ruo Shui. If the Blood Cavalry entered, E’nati would surely suffer.
Of course, this was Huang Beishuang’s somewhat selfish thought. In reality, if she succeeded, it would undoubtedly remove a threat to the entire desert world. Although she wasn’t sure if she could do it, she could at least try.
In the 332nd year of the Common Era, Spring Equinox, Yinguang.
The Northern Jing Heavenly King dispatched troops, moving from north to south, eventually stationing at his vassal state Huhe. They set up formations for three days, beating drums nightly to boost morale. Meanwhile, the Southern Zhan King also divided his troops into three groups to defend, inspect, and prepare for battle daily. The only one whose movements remained unclear was the Wild Blood King Ruo Wen, who stood like a needle between them, his intentions difficult to discern. This made both Tiandu wary and Yunpei vigilant.
At this juncture, the drought-stricken desert world was on the brink of collapse.
Qingyun flies across the vast desert,
Beishuang sings at dawn on the sandy ridge.
Ruo Wen’s blood-stained cavalry reflects the clouds,
That Zhan’s life cannot match in this lifetime.
…
At this stage, between them, who will win and who will lose? Where will they go? Will it soon be revealed?
Today we laugh, at how many arrows break through the sky,
All flowing with the sea of karma…
Epilogue: That Zhan · Following Heaven’s Will
Zhan first came to the Guanghan Palace at eight years old, thinking it was a dream. He didn’t close his eyes for three days, fearing he would wake up.
Eleven years later, he sat in the great hall, receiving the court’s homage. That dream had become a reality he couldn’t wake from even if he wanted to!
…
In the 287th year of the Common Era, Yunpei’s Crown Prince Na Jing ascended to the throne at nineteen, honored as King Rong.
King Rong’s father, Emperor Emeritus Na Qida, shed his royal robes during his son’s coronation ceremony and left Guanghan Palace with only two attendants. No one knew where he went or if he would return. That day, Ningdu’s Shaman Priest Fa Tian, dragging his long white robe, sighed to the young king sitting angrily on the throne: “O King! In this world, people can hold onto prosperity, but prosperity cannot hold onto people.”
Na Jing was very confused. What dissatisfaction could his father have to abandon this glorious realm?
Hearing this, Fa Tian kowtowed three times, then retreated to the side, observing the stars in silence.
Na Qida was only thirty-six, in his prime. Why was he so eager to relinquish the imperial seal? As he left, he only left his son Na Jing four words: “Take care of yourself!”
“Take care”? What did this mean? The 32nd King of Yunpei, Na Qida, was never a good ruler. Although he possessed profound wisdom, he could not govern effectively. A ruler needs three “cruelties” – cruel heart, cruel sword, and cruel self. A cruel heart can make ruthless decisions, implement measures swiftly, and establish authority. A cruel sword fight fiercely, maintains physical strength, and kills enemies without mercy. Lastly, and most importantly, a cruel self understands human nature deeply, can exercise self-control, prioritize the people, and follow reason, rules, and the greater good. Na Qida knew he couldn’t achieve these three “cruelties.”
Of course, not many kings in this world could achieve this. The difference was that others couldn’t do it and weren’t aware of it, while Na Qida couldn’t do it but was aware of it. This awareness made him feel powerless and even ashamed. So, he pondered day and night, growing thinner, until one day, when his eldest son Na Jing came of age, he unhesitatingly shed his royal attire and set off on a journey.
Because he felt his achievement lay not in ruling a country, but in recording history.
For a historian, prosperity is but a dream!
In the 307th year of the Common Era, Na Qida, Rong Ruo, and Rong Hua, master, and servants, spent twenty years traveling, traversing large and small oases, and recording the customs and cultures of various ethnic groups along the way. In twenty years of wind and rain, they not only saw the world’s beauty but also became intimately familiar with the desert land.
That year, news came from Yunpei that King Na Jing was gravely ill. The court ministers knelt, begging him to establish a crown prince. Guanghan Palace was silent for thirteen days, with Na Jing firmly refusing. Hearing the news, Emperor Emeritus Na Qida returned to the country.
“Greetings, Father!”
A thin boy, looking no more than nine years old, knelt by the magnificent bed, his eyes bright and demeanor composed.
Na Jing lay in bed, his face cold, and smiled, “Why don’t you call me Royal Father?”
The boy kowtowed once, “Father and son enjoy only familial love; King and son inevitably involve succession to the throne. Zhan knows his place!”
Na Jing was pleased to hear this and laughed, “Good, good, this child is very clever. Royal Father lets you acknowledge me as your father, and I shouldn’t shortchange you either. What’s your full name?”
The boy replied, “I originally had no name. After meeting the old man in the snow plains, I took the name Zhan!”
Na Jing pondered for a moment, then said, “Yunpei is the realm of our Na family. Since you’ve become my son, from now on, you’ll be called Na Zhan!”
The boy looked up at Na Qida sitting to the side, who nodded, signaling him to quickly thank the king.
The boy kowtowed again, “Thank you, Royal Father!” This time, he called him Royal Father.
That was Na Zhan’s first time entering Guanghan Palace. After meeting Na Jing, Rong Hua led him, under the protection of a large group of palace guards, to the Founding Ancestors’ Tomb to pay respects.
A month later, King Rong issued a proclamation: My son Na Zhan, whose mother was Consort Su, was exiled years ago for a grave mistake, unaware she was with child. This led to the Seventh Prince being lost among the common people. After much searching, by heaven’s grace, my son has returned to Guanghan, acknowledging his ancestors. This proclamation grants him residence in the Heguang Prince’s Mansion and establishes his inheritance rights as fifth in line.
In truth, Na Zhan was not, as the proclamation stated, Na Jing’s illegitimate son. He was well aware that he was merely a nameless orphan from the snow plains, without any royal bloodline. Yet, faced with this proclamation, he never questioned it. Without doubt, without concern, without excess action, the eight-year-old quietly observed everything before him.
Na Zhan grew up in Guanghan Palace, but no prince there was as humble and studious as he. He was also adept at winning people’s hearts. In less than a year, the Heguang Prince’s Mansion became a frequent haunt for the young princes.
The 57-year-old Emperor Emeritus Na Qida greatly favored Na Zhan, even personally teaching him governance and history, and inviting the court’s top military general to instruct him in swordsmanship and martial arts.
Ten years later, at eighteen, Na Zhan welcomed his first consort, Yu Jie, to the Heguang Prince’s Mansion.
Before the wedding night, Na Qida asked him, “Have you fallen in love with this woman?”
Na Zhan smiled, “Of course I love her!”
Na Qida said, “But Grandfather heard you prefer Yu Hao!”