That day, A’Luo let the horse gallop wildly westward, clinging tightly to its back, not knowing how long they ran before it finally stopped. She slowly opened her eyes and sat up, finding herself in a valley. She dismounted, but her legs gave way and she crumpled to the ground. The horse gave a long whinny and ran off, leaving her behind. A’Luo panicked—how could she travel onward without a horse? She watched the horse’s retreating figure with a sigh, sat and rubbed her legs for a while, resting on the ground. Suddenly she heard mountain folk songs drifting from the edge of the forest. She called out: “Is anyone there?”

The singing stopped, and before long a young girl emerged from the trees, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with a clever look about her. She glanced around, then walked over. A’Luo smiled at her: “Are you from around here?”

The girl blinked in surprise: “Sister, you’re so beautiful!” Then she laughed, two dimples appearing, round and deep, utterly adorable. “Sister, how did you get here?”

A’Luo slowly stood up, feeling an instant fondness for this girl, and said with a smile: “I’m dressed as a man, yet you can still tell I’m a woman? My name is Cheng Qing. Um, Ning Guo and Chen Guo are at war, and I fled Huai City with my family, but somehow got separated from them. The horse ran here and then abandoned me too.”

“Hehe…” The girl covered her mouth and laughed softly. “Sister, you’re dressed as a man, but your hair hasn’t changed at all.”

A’Luo touched her hair and burst out laughing too. Her body still felt weak, so she asked: “Could you tell me where this is?”

The girl smiled: “He calls me Little Bubble—Sister Cheng can call me that too. This is Black Wind Stockade, on the edge of Yilong City in Xia Guo.”

Black Wind Stockade? A’Luo instinctively glanced around—the mountains were green, the water clear, why such a name? Was there some black mountain demon lurking about? Little Bubble, perceptive, saw right through A’Luo’s thoughts and giggled: “There’s a dark noxious mist that drifts out from the bottom of this valley now and then. The mist is poisonous and smells awful, so it’s called Black Wind Stockade. But once the mist clears, everything’s fine.”

A’Luo touched her hair, where a few bright pearls were still pinned, and removed them to hand to Little Bubble: “Little sister, could you help me find a place to stay, and some clothes and food?”

Little Bubble raised her eyebrows: “Sister Cheng, no need to be so polite. Our stockade rarely gets guests—there’s no need for this.” She reached out and took A’Luo’s hand, leading her toward the stockade. Seeing that A’Luo could barely take two steps without gasping for breath, she asked, puzzled: “Sister Cheng, are you ill?”

“I just recovered from an illness not two days ago, and rode all night on horseback again last night. My body’s still weak—I’ll be fine after a couple days’ rest,” A’Luo said with a smile.

“Then please wait a moment, Sister Cheng!” Little Bubble pulled out a small bamboo whistle from her robe and blew it.

Moments later, several people came running out from the trees, and A’Luo immediately laughed—she recognized this: a sedan chair!

The mountain path wound and curved, and A’Luo slowly took in the scenery; at every bend a new view opened up, each more striking than the last. She couldn’t help admiring how strategically defensible and scenic this place was. Little Bubble, used to the mountain paths, walked behind the sedan chair without the slightest breathlessness. After about an hour, A’Luo’s eyes lit up—what an impressive stockade. It resembled the stone towers of the Qiang people. Naturally stacked stone formed a soaring gate tower dozens of zhang high. Passing through the gate, she found the mountaintop opened into a vast flat clearing, scattered with seventy or eighty low stone and wood houses. In the very center stood a three-story wooden tower. A’Luo thought—could this be the stockade master’s residence?

Little Bubble was clearly well-liked; all along the way, people greeted her warmly with smiles. A’Luo noticed that everyone treated Little Bubble with great respect, and couldn’t help but laugh inwardly—so she’d stumbled upon someone important after all; Little Bubble was likely the stockade master’s daughter.

Sure enough, once they got off the sedan chair, Little Bubble led A’Luo straight to the central wooden tower. As they entered, maidservants bowed one after another to Little Bubble: “Miss Mahua!”

“Your name is Mahua? Then why does he call you Little Bubble?” A’Luo asked, curious.

Little Bubble blushed, lowering her head with a girl’s particular shyness, then looked up, eyes sparkling: “Cang Xie says I’m a little bubble in the Long River—he always calls me that.”

A’Luo laughed heartily. Little Bubble was too adorable. Unlike the reserved women of Ning Guo, people here seemed brave and open about love. She couldn’t help thinking of Liu Jue—he too never hid his feelings. Was he still at Linnan now? Did he know she’d ended up drifting into Xia Guo? And Anye—could he hold his own against Chu Nan? The smile froze on her face, a faint shadow of worry settling between her brows.

Understanding and considerate, Little Bubble instructed the servants to take A’Luo to rest. “Sister Cheng, rest a few days until you’ve recovered, then go look for your family.”

A’Luo nodded.

After two days of rest, A’Luo’s body slowly recovered, and she was just thinking of taking her leave down the mountain when Little Bubble came running in, alarmed: “Sister Cheng, you can’t leave! Ning Guo has taken Huai City—the King has ordered the border sealed, and all the stockades must prepare for war!”

Liu Jue had finally crossed the Han River—Ning Guo’s great army would surely destroy Chen, and then… A’Luo looked at Little Bubble with a pang of guilt. Little Bubble had saved her. And yet, the man she loved would one day destroy this girl’s nation.

“Sister Cheng, the Ning army is doomed!” Little Bubble suddenly declared with confidence.

“Why is that?”

“Because Cang Xie is leading the Xia army in Chen right now—with him there, the Ning army stands no chance against him!” Speaking of Cang Xie, Little Bubble’s face lit up again.

A’Luo smiled: “Is Cang Xie the one you love? What does he look like?”

Little Bubble sat beside A’Luo, gazing at the green mountains with dreamy eyes: “Cang Xie is the King’s only son, the crown prince of our Xia Guo. He’s as beautiful as you are, Sister—any woman would be jealous of his face. Cang Xie has the finest martial skill—he can kill two leopards alone in the forest. He’s the prince every woman in Xia Guo adores!”

A’Luo thought: more beautiful than a woman? She thought of effeminate men—could such a man still be called a man? And skilled in martial arts too? The corner of her mouth curved; she couldn’t help but compare him to Liu Jue in her mind, and though she felt a bit petty for it, that was just how a woman’s heart worked—the one in her heart was always the best.

Unable to leave the border, unable to return to Ning Guo, A’Luo could only stay in the mountain stockade and wait. News of Chen kept trickling in. A month later, Little Bubble grew excited again: “Sister Cheng! Cang Xie is back! He’s already crossed the Long River! He must have won!”

A’Luo’s heart sank. Had Liu Jue suffered a great defeat? What had happened to him? The panic in her chest tightened with each passing moment. She grabbed Little Bubble’s hand and asked repeatedly: “Are you sure? Did the Ning army really suffer a great defeat? Do you know how the battle went?”

Little Bubble, bewildered by the barrage of questions, finally answered: “My father went to the palace a month ago and still hasn’t returned. I heard this from someone who came from Yilong City.”

Yilong City—the city on the Chen-Xia border? A’Luo’s heart raced; she was desperate to know the state of the war, desperate for news of Liu Jue, and once the thought took hold she couldn’t suppress it: “Little Bubble, thank you for taking care of me these past days. I need to leave the stockade and go down to Yilong City to seek news of my family.”

Little Bubble looked at her, troubled: “But things are chaotic right now. Yilong City is jointly governed by both nations—Sister Cheng, I’m afraid it’s dangerous for you to go alone.”

Dangerous or not, she had to go—precisely because the city was jointly governed by both nations, it would be easier to learn the most accurate news there. A’Luo made up her mind to go. Unable to dissuade her, Little Bubble packed a bag for her. She removed an ivory bracelet from her wrist and handed it to A’Luo: “Sister Cheng, take this as a keepsake. If anything happens, everyone in our stockade recognizes it—they’ll help you.”

A’Luo looked at Little Bubble with gratitude. In the month she’d known her, the girl had become like a little sister to her. She thought for a moment, then removed the jade pendant from around her neck and put it on Little Bubble: “This was a gift from my family. It’s all I have—let’s exchange.”

Reluctantly bidding farewell to Little Bubble, A’Luo took the sedan chair down the mountain, asked for directions, and after two hours reached Yilong City.

Yilong City was truly the throat-passage into Xia Guo, flanked by two mountains with a narrow gorge running between them; Chen and Xia used this as their border, splitting the city into East City and West City. At the most dangerous point, where the gorge was narrowest, a suspension bridge had been built, beneath it a sheer drop of countless zhang. In peacetime the bridge was lowered, allowing the people of both nations to travel back and forth for trade; each day at sunset, both sides would raise their half of the bridge, and Yilong City would split into two separate, independent cities.

It was now early autumn, the ninth month. Xia Guo had entered its most beautiful season—the mountain trees a riot of color, the sky washed clean and blue, the sunlight bright but not harsh. A’Luo changed into local attire, a narrow-sleeved long robe, her sash and collar patterned in vivid colors. Her long hair tied back, she once again became a handsome young gentleman with a face like the bright moon.

Entering Yilong City from the direction of the stockade, there was no obstruction. Further along, she saw the mountain road between the two peaks now lined with soldiers, the atmosphere tense. The suspension bridge had already been raised. Upon asking, she learned that Xia Guo’s Prince Cang Xie had withdrawn his troops from the Chen battlefield, and relations between the two nations had grown tense; the King of Xia had ordered the bridge raised and the border sealed, fearing the Ning army might invade and seize Yilong City.

A’Luo gazed at the bottomless gorge, some thirty-odd zhang wide—even a martial artist of exceptional lightness skill, without wings, couldn’t fly across. She looked toward Yilong City, still technically part of Chen, and sighed. She had no choice but to remain in West City for now. She slowly made her way back into the city and found an inn to stay at.

A’Luo didn’t know whether there were any Ning people here; the people of Xia now spoke of Ning Guo with open hostility, and she dared not reveal her identity. Clinging to a thread of hope, she spent her days sitting in taverns and teahouses, listening to the locals discuss the war, hoping to hear news of Liu Jue. Each day when she went out, she quietly carved the letters “SOS” into a rock face by the roadside, deepening the marks a little each day, careful not to be noticed. She thought that if Liu Jue and the Black-Clad Cavalry ever saw these letters, they would know she was here.

From the merchants and travelers passing through, and from the talk in the taverns, she heard only of the Ning army’s great victory over the Chen-Xia allied forces at Yun City. Xia’s crown prince, seeing the situation turn unfavorable, had withdrawn his troops from Chen to preserve his strength. Tens of thousands of troops were now dispersed across the cities and the royal palace, preparing to meet the Ning army. The atmosphere in Yilong City grew ever more tense, and fragments of news about the Ning army reached A’Luo’s ears.

She often wondered—had this war truly begun because Chu Nan abducted Ning’s princess, or because Zili sought to fulfill his dream of ruling the world? Zili—he truly was no longer that melancholy fourth prince. He was now a sovereign, and a sovereign had his own responsibilities. A’Luo sighed. Not being in his position, she had no right to judge whether he was right or wrong.

A month passed this way, and then astonishing news arrived: the Ning army had breached Chen’s capital, the King of Chen had surrendered, and Chen had fallen. The tavern erupted in a clamor of discussion. One man shouted: “Ning Guo has the ambitions of a wolf—having destroyed Chen, they’ll surely come for Xia next. I’ve heard the Ning commander, Prince Pingnan Liu Jue, is utterly ruthless, killing without mercy. After breaking into Chen’s capital, he executed anyone who showed even the slightest resistance. Pitifully, only the Second Prince, Chu Nan, escaped the royal family’s fate—there’s a bounty out for his capture now.”

A’Luo gasped in shock and quickly lowered her head. A deep sorrow and sense of helplessness rose within her. War always claimed too many lives, and conquest was always built on a mountain of bones. Picturing rivers of blood, she couldn’t help but feel afraid. She was just an insignificant, ordinary woman now, and all she wanted was to survive. If the people here learned she was Liu Jue’s betrothed, Ning Guo’s Princess Qingluo, she wouldn’t even know how she’d died. She missed Liu Jue, wanted him to come quickly—yet also feared his coming, feared that someone as lovely as Little Bubble might lose her smile beneath his army’s advance.

Just as she sat lost in thought, a group of soldiers poured into the tavern, their leader shouting: “Having destroyed Chen, the Ning army is now massing and marching west! Yilong East City already belongs to Ning Guo. By order of the Crown Prince, a curfew begins in West City from this day forward! Any household harboring suspicious persons must report immediately, or be executed as spies!” The soldiers began checking identities one by one.

Had Liu Jue arrived? Would he soon appear on the other side of that gorge? Longing gnawed restlessly at A’Luo’s heart, and she wished she could fly across. But hearing the second half of the soldier’s announcement, she tensed, her hands instinctively clasping together—until they brushed against the bracelet Little Bubble had given her, and she settled at once, calmly sipping her tea. Before long, two soldiers approached her table: “Young master, where are you from, and what brings you to Yilong City?”

A’Luo looked up with a faint smile: “I come from Black Wind Stockade. I admired the scenery here and decided to stay a while.” The soldiers were momentarily dazed by her smile, stammering: “D-do you have any papers or identification?”

A’Luo gently raised her hand, the ivory bracelet on her delicate, jade-like wrist swinging elegantly: “Miss Mahua of Black Wind Stockade is my sister!”

The soldiers froze, then bowed respectfully: “Forgive the disturbance, young master!”

A’Luo let out a breath of relief, but felt a gaze fixed on her back. She turned slightly—nine out of ten people in the tavern had already left. In a far corner sat a slender figure, still drinking tea. She could only see his back and a head of jet-black hair. Was he watching her? A’Luo couldn’t be sure. She stood, paid for her tea, and slowly walked out.

She hadn’t gone far when a voice sounded softly behind her, extremely light and gentle: “I couldn’t help but overhear—you know Mahua of Black Wind Stockade?”

A’Luo slowly turned. From his build, it was the young man who had been sitting with his back to her. His face was covered by a silver mask, revealing only thin lips; his voice was low and soft, yet a sharp glint flickered in his eyes. Seeing her turn, he seemed to freeze for a moment, then his gaze cleared again.

“Yes, I know her.” Not knowing this person’s identity—and startled that a man could have a voice like a silver bell—A’Luo answered in the calmest, gentlest tone she could manage.

“Your accent doesn’t sound like Xia Guo’s.”

A’Luo was startled—he’d not only recognized she wasn’t from Xia Guo, but had also seen through her disguise as a man. She countered: “Who are you to Mahua?”

A soft laugh escaped him: “I’m her brother, Ya Er.”

A’Luo’s brow furrowed slightly: “I don’t recall ever hearing that Little Bubble has a brother.”

At the mention of “Little Bubble,” Ya Er’s gaze softened: “I’m her distant cousin. When did you become her sworn sister?”

A’Luo grew wary and said carefully: “I’m from Chen. Ning Guo attacked, and I got separated from my family and ended up in Xia Guo. Little Bubble took me in.”

“I see. From the way you speak, you must come from a good family, and to be stranded here like this, your family must be worried. I happen to know Chen well—since you’ve become her sister, why not tell me about your family’s situation? I could help look into it.”

Good heavens, this Ya Er, Little Bubble’s so-called cousin—how was he pressing so relentlessly, step by step? A’Luo didn’t know what to do, and forced herself to keep lying: “Cheng Qing’s parents died long ago. That day, when Huai City was ambushed by the Ning army, I fled the city alone with a few household retainers, and we got separated along the way. I have no home to return to now.”

“I see,” Ya Er’s eyes carried a touch more scrutiny. Just as he seemed about to press further, a soldier approached and whispered something in his ear. A faint, wicked smile spread across his lips—A’Luo froze; his face was hidden behind the mask, yet that smile alone was strikingly captivating. Ya Er cupped his hands toward A’Luo in a bow: “Miss Cheng, the Ning army is marching straight for our Xia Guo. Yilong West City—now that Chen has fallen—has been taken over by Ning Guo, and it’s no longer safe here. Let me escort you back to Black Wind Stockade.”

A’Luo had no reason to refuse, so she answered calmly: “Then I thank you, Young Master Ya Er.”

Ya Er summoned two soldiers to escort A’Luo back to the inn to collect her belongings. A’Luo noticed the soldiers’ respectful yet wary bearing, and inwardly cursed her luck. Little Bubble had believed her story without the slightest doubt, but this distant cousin of hers had grown suspicious. How had he come to doubt her? A’Luo recalled the strange look he’d given her when the soldier whispered in his ear—could someone here actually recognize her? She walked slowly back to the inn and said gently to the two soldiers: “I’ll go pack my things—please wait a moment.”

The two soldiers stood ramrod straight at the door, hands still resting on their sword hilts. This only confirmed her suspicions further. She shut the door and paced anxiously. Running was useless—where could she even run to, a stranger in this land? With no other option, she thought of the direction of Black Wind Stockade and used ink to splash several large “W” shaped lines across the room, leaving behind a thread of hope.

Stepping out of the room, she found a palanquin waiting at the door, a troop of soldiers standing beside it. With no other choice, A’Luo lifted the palanquin’s curtain, and just as she bent to climb in, she caught sight of someone already seated inside! A’Luo let out an involuntary cry of alarm and instinctively tried to pull back. But the person inside had already seized her wrist and pulled her in, arms closing around her.

A’Luo’s blood ran cold. Chu Nan’s low, soft laugh sounded beside her ear: “My princess, we meet again.” His arms tightened around her like iron bands, his breath brushing against her neck: “This is the first time I’ve seen you tremble—are you finally afraid?”

A’Luo closed her eyes—when misfortune strikes, even water chokes you. Once the fear passed, her voice returned to calm: “Men and women should not touch. I can’t escape anyway—please, Your Highness, get out and ride your horse instead.”

“I prefer this. A palanquin is so much more comfortable.” Chu Nan’s mood finally lightened. When the Ning army breached the capital, he’d wanted to fight to the death, but his weak-willed father had chosen to surrender.

Bow to Liu Jue and submit? He’d rather die by his own sword first! Chu Nan had fled the capital with a few dozen loyal guards, heading west to seek refuge in Xia Guo. The King of Xia, understanding that Ning’s next target would be Xia itself, and having long heard of Chu Nan’s exceptional martial prowess, welcomed his defection and treated him as an honored guest. Chu Nan wanted revenge, and the King of Xia needed a skilled general—the two needs aligned perfectly. After Chen fell in the tenth month, the King of Xia, concerned for Yilong City’s safety, had specifically ordered Crown Prince Cang Xie to garrison it with a substantial force, and Chu Nan had come along. He hadn’t expected to unexpectedly encounter A’Luo here, and was overjoyed beyond words. The joy of recovering what he’d lost filled him completely, and he refused to let her go.

A’Luo said coldly: “I’m uncomfortable. This palanquin is too small, and Your Highness is too fat. If Your Highness won’t get out, then Qingluo will get out and ride a horse instead! Save the bearers the trouble—wouldn’t want the palanquin to tip into a ravine!”

“Fat? You’re calling me fat?” A’Luo’s words sent Chu Nan into a fury. He was a bit tall, a bit broad, sure, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him! Countless women across Chen had swooned over his masculine physique, and she dared call him fat? Chu Nan shouted: “Stop the palanquin!” He climbed out, mounted his horse, and rode alongside the palanquin instead.

Turning back, he caught sight of the bearers’ visibly relieved expressions, and furiously cracked his whip at them: “Faster!”

A’Luo covered her mouth, stifling a laugh, but soon grew worried again—Liu Jue had no idea she’d fallen into Chu Nan’s hands once more. This time, there truly seemed no escape.

Back at Black Wind Stockade, Little Bubble was astonished to see A’Luo return with Chu Nan and a troop of soldiers. A’Luo sighed, then smiled and said:

“I’m sorry, Little Bubble. I’m from Ning Guo. You can still call me Cheng Qing, or… you can call me Qingluo.”

Little Bubble’s mouth fell open in shock: “Ah! Ning Guo’s Princess Qingluo!”

Chu Nan glanced at A’Luo, then bowed to Mahua: “My honored lady, I am Chu Nan. His Highness Cang Xie is garrisoned in Yilong City. Since the stockade master is unable to return from the palace, I am taking charge of Black Wind Stockade for now. Might I ask where the stockade’s prison cell is?” His tone was gentle and courteous.

Little Bubble froze, then came to her senses and called for an attendant. Chu Nan gave the order directly: “Take the princess to the cell. No one is to approach her without my command. Seal the stockade gates—no one enters or leaves without permission.”

Little Bubble froze again, then cried out in shock: “How can you treat Sister like this!”

Chu Nan smiled: “I’d like a few more nights of peaceful sleep.” A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and Little Bubble shuddered, not daring to say another word. Chu Nan thought to himself—this time, if Liu Jue dared attack again, he would use A’Luo as a hostage without hesitation!

A’Luo entered the stockade’s prison cell and found that, compared to the imperial dungeon, this was like comparing a five-star hotel to a dockside flophouse. The stench nearly made her eyes water. The cell was half-buried underground, dark and damp. In the corner lay a pile of dried grass that passed for a bed; she noticed centipedes crawling through it and shuddered, goosebumps rising. The floor was mud, and with each step her foot sank into the muck. A’Luo wanted to cry—she didn’t even have a place to sit. After looking around for a long while, she finally retreated to the wooden bars of the cell, the driest spot available, and slowly sat down.

Night fell gradually. Out in the corridor, something was burning in an iron bowl, giving off a choking smell. A’Luo listened for a while, saw no one around, and assumed everyone had gone to sleep. She reached out and touched the wooden bars—thick as an arm—then stepped back and, taking a deep breath, kicked at them with all her strength. Her leg throbbed with pain. Wincing, hissing through her teeth, she moved closer to examine them. The bars hadn’t budged an inch; the wood was solid. Dejected, she rubbed her leg and sat back down, leaning against the bars, closing her eyes to try to sleep.

After a while, she heard a faint squeaking sound and thought of rats. It was normal for rats to be here, so she paid it no mind.

“Squeak! Eeeee—” A rat let out a shrill, terrified scream. A’Luo’s eyes snapped open, every hair on her body standing on end. A few steps away, a snake had appeared from who knows where, in the middle of swallowing a fat rat. She couldn’t hold back any longer—she leapt up and clutched the wooden bars, screaming with all her strength, over and over: “Ahh! Ahh! Ahhh—”

Chu Nan, lying in bed, faintly heard the terrified screaming and was about to ignore it when his heart suddenly clenched—it was Qingluo! He leapt from the bed, grabbed his outer robe, and ran toward the cell. The screaming grew louder and louder; too panicked to wait for someone to unlock the door, Chu Nan smashed through two sections of the wooden bars and rushed in. He found A’Luo clutching a wooden post, eyes shut, still screaming, her face deathly pale, her whole body trembling. He closed the distance in a few strides, shouting: “Qingluo, what’s wrong, Qingluo?”

A’Luo could only keep screaming, still convinced the snake that had half-swallowed the rat was about to crawl toward her—she couldn’t even hear Chu Nan calling her name. The attendants who’d come running behind him fumbled with shaking hands to unlock the gate. Chu Nan pulled A’Luo close, and the moment he touched her, he felt her entire body rigid with fear, eyes still shut, still screaming.

Chu Nan pressed her head against his chest: “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, I’m here, Qingluo, I’m here.” His eyes flicked toward the cell—the ratsnake still had a rat’s tail hanging from its mouth, utterly repulsive. He looked down at A’Luo in his arms, a pang of pain in his chest, and carried her out. For a moment he was consumed with regret—how could he have thrown her into a place like this? What kind of prison cell was this stockade running?

Once outside the cell, A’Luo’s screaming gradually subsided, and she lay curled motionless in Chu Nan’s arms. Chu Nan sighed, carried her back to his room, and laid her on the bed. She automatically curled into a ball, staring up at him with frightened, wronged eyes. Chu Nan softened his voice: “It’s alright now. I won’t throw you in a place like that again. Get some good rest.”

A’Luo just kept staring at him, then blinked, and tears began to fall. She thought of Liu Jue—no matter how angry he got, he had never treated her this way.

Seeing her nerves still wound tight, Chu Nan had no choice but to reach out and press her sleep acupoint. He gazed at her silently for a long moment, then sighed deeply—in the end, he simply couldn’t bring himself to be cruel to her.

Little Bubble, woken by the commotion, came to the room to look. Chu Nan smiled wryly: “I can’t even get one peaceful night’s sleep.”