The scorching sun was dispersed by the river wind, and the soldiers, drenched in sweat, dried again in the breeze. One soldier, stealing a moment’s rest, glanced toward the freshly erected canopies near the city gate and found himself meeting a pair of ice-cold eyes, sending a shiver down his spine, goosebumps rising instantly on his exposed skin. A companion beside him asked quietly, “What’s wrong?” He lowered his head, focusing on fastening the clasps, and murmured, “Get to work! Prince Anqing’s young lord looks like he wants to kill someone today.”

By the time the fire was extinguished and the pontoon bridge rebuilt, it was nearly the hour of Wei. With two boats still unconnected, Liu Jue abruptly stood, and without a word, left the canopy and leapt onto his horse. The other two squadrons of Black-Clad Riders had already returned to the residence, but the Dark Corps had remained by Liu Jue’s side the entire time; seeing their master mount up, they all swiftly leapt onto their own horses in unison. Liu Jue led the charge across to the far bank.

Once across the pontoon bridge, only a single official road led south toward the other cities. The closest was Shunhe Town, and beyond that, Gu City. The Dark Corps followed close behind Liu Jue; the only sound on the empty afternoon road was the rapid pounding of hooves. Whenever they passed a side path, one rider would automatically peel off to search it.

Ten li outside the city, along the official road, stood a tea stall, run by an elderly couple with graying hair, drowsy from the scorching sun. Suddenly, the sound of urgent hoofbeats jolted the old man awake, and a gust of fierce wind rushed past as a large group of riders in dark blue-green soft armor, their faces covered, sped past like thunder rolling by. The old man’s body went limp, and he tumbled sideways off his stool onto the ground. Brushing the dust off himself, he slowly got up, only to look up and stumble backward onto the ground again. One masked rider, deliberately softening his voice, asked, “Old man, have you seen a handsome young man driving a carriage pass by?”

The old man opened his mouth but no sound came out. The masked rider grew somewhat impatient, his voice taking on a cold edge: “Early this morning, a handsome young man driving a carriage—have you seen him?”

The old man finally came to his senses, stammering, “Th-this humble stall only set up at the hour of Chen, I, I haven’t seen anyone.”

The masked rider didn’t ask further, tossed down a handful of copper coins, and cracked his whip, riding toward Shunhe Town. Once they were far off, the old man, hands still shaking, gathered up the scattered coins from the ground, muttering to himself, “How terrifying!”

Liu Jue rode all the way to Shunhe Town. The town wasn’t large, with only two streets. He gestured, and the Black-Clad Riders spread out to search through the town. Liu Jue sat waiting on his horse at the entrance. Before long, a Dark Corps soldier reported: “No one in town has seen the Third Miss and the other two, nor has anyone seen a carriage pass through.”

His horse, sensing its master’s agitation, restlessly stamped its front hooves. Liu Jue calculated the timing—A’Luo and the others should have already reached Shunhe Town long ago. Shunhe Town lay between two tall mountains, with the official road passing directly through it, with no other route around. It seemed unlikely three women could cross the mountains. If they were heading south, they would have to pass through Shunhe Town. So where could they have gone now?

Suddenly, he heard a sharp crack behind him, and a wisp of blue-green smoke spread across the sky—a signal from a Black-Clad Rider who had branched off onto a side path. Liu Jue wheeled his horse around and raced toward the source of the signal.

He entered a dense forest. Liu Jue suddenly spotted the carriage. A Dark Corps soldier had just knelt to report the situation, but Liu Jue had already passed him and walked straight to the carriage. Inside the compartment, several garments lay scattered in disarray. Liu Jue casually picked one up and suddenly noticed spots of blood on it; looking down, he saw blood spattered on the grass and leaves as well. His heart lurched, his pupils contracting sharply, as if an invisible hand had seized his heart in a crushing grip. His face went instantly pale, hot sweat cooling rapidly and clinging chillingly to his robes.

The first soldier who’d discovered the carriage said: “It’s very skilled work—no traces anywhere nearby. It’s as though the person and horse simply vanished from this spot.”

“Any suspicious activity nearby?”

“West of Shunhe Town, deep in the mountains, there’s a bandit den, but they rarely target ordinary carriages. If given passage money, they’ve never harmed anyone.”

Liu Jue sneered coldly: “So close to the capital, and there are still bandits demanding tolls? Unacceptable!”

“This particular band of bandits is strange—they seem to have some connection to the Crown Prince. Pigeon Corps watchposts in town report that aside from occasionally coming down to rob things, they almost never leave the mountains. And what they steal isn’t nearly enough to cover their expenses—it’s as if the robbery is just a front to maintain their bandit appearance.”

Liu Jue gazed at the two mountains in the distance, thinking that Shunhe Town seemed like a chokepoint into Feng City—whoever controlled this vital passage would effectively control the route between Feng City and the southern cities. If the Crown Prince had planted this piece early, it would indeed be a clever move. “When did this band of bandits first appear?”

“After Mid-Autumn Festival last year.”

Liu Jue thought privately—after Mid-Autumn Festival was when the Crown Prince married into the Wang family. Rumor had it the Crown Princess was exceptionally strategic—could this move have been arranged by Wang Yanhui? The more he thought, the more alarmed he became. He suddenly recalled A’Luo’s zither playing at the Crown Prince’s banquet. Could the Crown Prince have long ago planted eyes within the Chancellor’s residence and abducted A’Luo? Liu Jue’s thoughts were now in complete chaos—if he wiped out this bandit den, he would indirectly do Zili a great favor while simultaneously destroying the Crown Prince’s scheme. And yet, if he didn’t act, how could he possibly rest easy? The resolve in Liu Jue’s eyes grew increasingly firm. The corner of his mouth curled into a cold smile. Since they claimed to be bandits, he would treat them as bandits.

“Before midnight tonight, I want this bandit den gone. Eliminating evil for the people and sharing the king’s burdens is our duty as his subjects.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Clouds slowly covered the moon. The mountains cast deep shadows. Based on information gathered by the Pigeon Corps, the Dark Corps of the Black-Clad Riders had already finalized their plan. At the hour of Xu, they silently approached the bandit den’s surroundings like clusters of quiet clouds. Liu Jue carefully observed the stronghold—just as the Pigeon Corps had reported, it didn’t resemble an ordinary bandit den at all, but more like a small military camp. Liu Jue sneered coldly—clearly the work of someone well-versed in military strategy and troop deployment. At the hour of Hai, Liu Jue let out a mournful owl-like cry from his lips. The operation began.

Shadows flickered through the darkness, Liu Jue leaping ahead at the forefront, the Dark Corps soldiers spreading out and infiltrating. Though the stronghold had defensive formations in place, they had unfortunately encountered the Black-Clad Riders, who moved with practiced ease straight to the main hall. When Liu Jue casually strolled inside, the bandits gathered in the main hall were so startled they shattered their wine bowls.

The leader rubbed his eyes in confusion, and heard Liu Jue say with a laugh, “I’m not a ghost, look, I cast a shadow.”

The leader finally reacted: “Who are you? How did you get into the stronghold!”

“That’s not something you need to worry about. I only want to know—did you rob a carriage today?”

“What if we did? What if we didn’t?”

Liu Jue suddenly struck, his sword tip dancing, flashes of silver light like the gentlest moonlight, kissing the bodies of everyone in the hall. The bandits felt a sudden chill sweep over them, and within the hall, a strange cold beauty seemed to bloom like falling snowflakes. Only when the snowflakes turned red and they collapsed to the ground did they still wonder who this smiling demon of the night truly was.

The last drop of thick blood slowly dripped from his sword tip. Liu Jue said with a soft laugh, “Answer me.”

The leader suddenly cried out hoarsely: “We didn’t! We didn’t! We were only ordered to garrison here, we’ve never seriously harmed anyone!”

The Black-Clad Riders filed in one after another; having tallied the bodies in the hall, one reported: “The stronghold held a total of one hundred seventy-three people. One hundred seventy-two dead. No sign of the Third Miss, the Seventh Wife, or the third woman.”

The leader was horrified: “Black-Clad Riders—you’re from Prince Anqing’s household! Young lord, you’re Liu Jue! You, you’ve actually killed the Grand Marshal’s elite troops, killed them all, you, are you planning rebellion?”

Liu Jue laughed heartily, laughing until his stomach ached: “This young lord eliminating bandits counts as rebellion? Hahaha!” With one sword stroke, he silenced the leader’s outcry. He stopped laughing and said coldly, “Search thoroughly, then burn it down!”

Turning to walk out of the hall, Liu Jue closed his eyes; the ache in his heart hadn’t lessened in the slightest despite the bloodshed just now. He opened his eyes, his gaze deep as night. A’Luo, where could you have gone? “Send word—starting from Shunhe Town southward, set up checkpoints with her portrait, thorough inspections, and notify every prefecture and county that someone has abducted Prince Anqing’s household’s young princess consort-to-be. Reward of a thousand taels of silver for information, ten thousand taels of gold for whoever detains the young consort-to-be.”

The next morning at court, Prince Ning’s gaunt face flushed with two spots of anger: “Who dared to set fire to the pontoon bridge with such audacity?!”

Chancellor Li stepped forward and prostrated himself, tears streaming down his aged face: “Your Majesty! Unknown persons abducted my daughter and concubine yesterday. Prince Anqing’s household pursued them out through the south gate, but the culprits actually set fire to the pontoon bridge! This old servant has served honestly for many years—how could such disaster befall me!”

Chancellor Li had always treated everyone with gentle courtesy in his official dealings; aside from being called an old fox skilled at smoothing things over, he was truly considered honest and decent. As he wept sorrowfully before the court, sighs rippled through the assembled officials.

Liu Jue stepped forward and knelt, lifting his robes: “Your Majesty, the Chancellor’s Third Miss has already been betrothed to this subject. Last night, this subject tracked the trail west of Shunhe Town into the mountains, and indeed found a bandit stronghold hidden there. A den of bandits, mere dozens of li from the capital, operating with such impunity—this subject has already eliminated the stronghold, but heard from one of the bandits that the Third Miss and the Seventh Wife had been taken south. I beg Your Majesty to decide how to proceed!”

A sharp gleam flashed in Prince Ning’s eyes, and he smiled: “Well done, Yunzhi. Such brazen bandits cannot be tolerated right beneath the capital’s nose. I hereby appoint you General Pingnan, to patrol the southern cities. The south has many mountains and treacherous roads—when you encounter such bandits, execute first and report later. Chancellor Li, do not grieve. General Pingnan will head south and surely bring your daughter back safely.”

Prince Ning, having spoken so much in one breath, found himself slightly short of breath. His gaze swept over Chancellor Gu and Zili, seeing concern on their faces, and he nodded slightly. After a pause, he continued: “Grand Marshal Wang, for General Pingnan’s mission south, hand over the southern army’s tiger tally to him. Let the southern army be under his command.”

Grand Marshal Wang was stunned—he had been fretting over the elite troops planted in the mountains, only to learn they’d been mistakenly wiped out as bandits. Now Prince Ning was directly and immediately stripping him of the southern army’s command, right there in open court, before everyone’s eyes—how could he possibly refuse? Left with no choice, he replied: “Earlier this year, intelligence reported that Chen Guo has been showing signs of unrest. Currently, Chancellor Gu’s son, General Tianxiang, commands the southern army’s naval forces, and my subordinate General Wang Lie and General Tianxiang are in the midst of coordinating an overall strategy. Changing commanders at this time would be detrimental to military operations. Your Majesty, please reconsider!”

Prince Ning laughed: “I recall Yunzhi and Tianxiang grew up together and are close friends. The two working together should present no conflict. Don’t worry, Grand Marshal. It’s settled. Yunzhi, you depart tomorrow, and quickly coordinate the handover with General Wang. Keep close watch on Chen Guo’s movements, and don’t forget to clear out any other troublemakers along the way.”

Liu Jue, unable to fully suppress his smile, answered loudly: “This subject obeys, Your Majesty is wise!”

Zili and Chancellor Gu exchanged a glance, both their eyes flickering with a trace of amusement.

The Crown Prince pressed his lips tightly together, his face expressionless.

After court adjourned, the Crown Prince returned to the Eastern Palace and sighed heavily: “Father has begun positioning his pieces.”

Wang Yanhui, holding a scroll and reading unhurriedly, glanced at the Crown Prince and said, “Of Ning Guo’s military forces, the Right Flank Army is under Prince Anqing’s command, and the Left Flank Army’s main force is the Southern Army—now the majority of the military strength has fallen under Prince Anqing’s household. If Liu Jue and his father wanted the throne, it would be easiest for them now.”

“But doesn’t this put the Right Flank Army directly into Zili’s hands?”

“It’s a risky move—trading military authority to keep him far from the capital. You are the legitimately named Crown Prince, and it’s only right and proper that you ascend the throne. Prince Anqing, retired at home to enjoy his old age, has spent years carefully building up the Right Flank Army—how could he hand it over so easily to Prince Li? Even if he didn’t rebel outright to defend his position, it would still depend on Prince Anqing’s own wishes. This Prince Anqing is the shrewdest of all—going early to the border city puts his true intentions ambiguous, and that Crimson Dragon Token in his possession makes even your father wary of him. Besides, Gu Tianxiang commands only the southern army’s naval forces; the southern army is mostly composed of my father’s own troops. General Pingnan may not find it so easy to win over the southern army after all.

“What’s more, my father still holds the Eastern Route Army—fewer in number than the Southern Army, but truly elite forces. As for the Northern Route Army, hidden deep in Heishan Forest—that, I suspect, even your father doesn’t know about.”

The Crown Prince was both startled and delighted: “My beloved consort’s strategy is truly brilliant. When did Ning Guo acquire a Northern Route Army?”

Wang Yanhui smiled: “These are my own personal troops. Since I was young, I’ve loved military affairs, and year after year I petitioned my father to allocate elite soldiers to my command, hidden away in Heishan Forest—twenty thousand strong. Under my training, they can each hold their own against ten.” Wang Yanhui turned serious, addressing the Crown Prince: “You and I are of one body as husband and wife. Today I’ve told you the truth. From now on, fortune and misfortune shall be shared equally. Your Highness must never betray Yanhui’s devotion.”

The Crown Prince let out a long breath, his worries swept away entirely. He suddenly asked, “Does my beloved consort dislike Consort Liangdi?”

Wang Yanhui smiled charmingly: “The Right Chancellor’s daughter—how could I dislike her? I only, well, I don’t care for her zither playing. Though, I do rather like her younger sister, Qingluo. If only she were my own little sister—I’m quite fond of her, truly. I’d love nothing more than to arrange her marriage to General Pingnan soon. Then I’d gain a sister, and you’d gain a brother-in-law.”