The carriage rumbled along with heavy curtains drawn tight, directly entering the unremarkable residence hidden in the deep alley.

The thresholds had been removed, allowing the carriage to pass through three gates before stopping in the depths of the inner courtyard. All around was completely quiet—not even birdsong could be heard.

The extreme silence was unsettling, as if entering a vacuum dream where all surroundings were vast and empty, with no trace of human presence.

After quite a while, Mingcheng anxiously lifted the curtain herself. The first thing she saw was the door to the study directly facing the carriage.

The door was open, but despite the bright weather, the interior was pitch black. Brilliant sunlight was blocked at the threshold, as if that place was the boundary between night and day.

Mingcheng stared wide-eyed for a long time before discovering a figure in a black cloak standing in the dark doorframe.

She let out a long breath. Just as she was about to relax, she suddenly started again—in the utterly quiet courtyard, many people were actually standing around, all soundless with rigid bodies, their faces hidden within white hooded cloaks, revealing only pairs of uncomfortable, beast-like strange eyes.

She trembled slightly, an ominous premonition suddenly rising in her heart.

The cloaked figure in the study seemed to smile, raising his hand slightly. Those outside silently walked away. Mingcheng listened intently for the sound of their footsteps, but truly, there was no sound at all.

Her ominous feeling grew stronger.

In the study’s darkness, that person smiled at her. “Has Your Majesty the Empress been well?”

Mingcheng forced a smile, her voice low. “Thanks to your blessing.”

“What do you want?” the man’s voice was gentle.

“You should know,” Mingcheng gritted her teeth, “to make Jing Hengbo die.”

“You also know this—I’ve always been consistent with you on this point. But if I can accomplish this alone, why must I bring you along?” The man’s smile became more gentle, but Mingcheng shivered involuntarily.

“Help me once more…” she said with difficulty, “What you want…”

The man smiled and opened his palm to her.

But Mingcheng hesitated. The underground palace map was her last bargaining chip. She really didn’t want to hand it over now, losing this leverage so early. How could she negotiate with this outwardly gentle but inwardly cold person?

His palm remained open, seemingly very patient, even his smile’s curve unchanged. Mingcheng smiled reluctantly, her hands twisting within her sleeves. Not daring to offend yet unwilling to surrender her treasure, she stammered, “I’ve suffered terribly and my mind is somewhat confused. I don’t remember some routes clearly. Give me some time to recover slowly and think it through carefully for you, otherwise if I get it wrong it would be a huge problem…”

Before she finished speaking.

The man in the darkness suddenly laughed.

His open white palm seemed about to close, and at that moment, his middle finger flicked lightly.

A line of green light shot out. Mingcheng screamed in agony, suddenly opening her hand. Half of her left middle finger was severed, the half-section hanging limply.

More terrifying still, between the broken finger joints, green foam-like substance writhed. Wherever it touched, her skin became rough, fine hair growing on both sides of the wound. The green spread, turning the entire finger green, even the nail slowly curving…

In just an instant, the drug on that needle had transformed her finger into a ghostly claw.

Mingcheng was so shocked she forgot pain and screaming. After a long moment she finally shrieked “Ah!” Breaking into cold sweat, she lunged forward, crashing into the study doorframe. Her knees half-bent, trembling as she was about to kneel, her words also shaking, “You… you… spare me… save me… save me…”

A hand reached over—white, slender, clean, gently pulling her with tender gestures. Like leading a beloved into a chapel.

Mingcheng no longer dared the slightest disobedience. Sobbing and trembling, she let him pull her across the threshold into that substantial darkness.

“Creak.” The study door slowly closed, sealing the darkness within and cutting off the light outside.

Mingcheng, swallowed by darkness, turned back one last time.

A ray of sunlight illuminated her tear-stained face pale. Her black, dilated pupils reflected countless terrors and despairs.

As if this step inside meant eternal damnation.

That face vanished in an instant.

“Bang.” The door closed.

The courtyard remained utterly quiet, still with that deathly silence.

Moments later, a scream pierced the sky. The sound was brief, ending abruptly.

The courtyard remained quiet. Those cloaked figures with emotionless, beast-like gazes stared straight ahead, motionless.

…

In the camp outside Lin Prefecture in Yu Kingdom, Jing Hengbo looked up at the mounted Pei Shu, momentarily moved.

This guy really could speak sweet words enough to enchant those girls raised on ancient melodramatic romances…

But it wasn’t enough to enchant her!

“Get down!” She grabbed Pei Shu’s trouser leg. “You don’t need to play hero. Now isn’t the time for us to retaliate. First consider how to handle their siege.”

“Hmm?” Pei Shu raised his eyebrows high.

Jing Hengbo pointed back at the tent. “Inside are quite a few sons of prominent families from Lin Prefecture and even the capital. Half are dead, with a small half remaining. Originally we could use them to constrain Lin Prefecture nobles, but with Yu Guangting here, he’ll inevitably sow discord. Soon, Lin Prefecture’s local garrison and even noble private armies will join with Yu Guangting to besiege us. If Yu Guangting is bolder still and mobilizes all nearby armies for extermination—they have geographical and popular advantage while we have so few people. The escort army has poor combat ability, the Horizontal Halberd Army only has two thousand, and Kanglong and Yuzhao armies can’t arrive quickly. How do we fight them? Even if you and I are safe, have you calculated how many of these soldiers will die?”

“So what?” Pei Shu raised his eyebrows carelessly. “Their lives were already sold to you. Dying for you is only natural. Or don’t you trust my ability? Don’t believe my two thousand Horizontal Halberd Army can sweep through Yu Kingdom?”

“Soldiers are also people. Who gave you permission not to value human life?” Jing Hengbo’s anger flared as she kicked his shin. “Get down! No rash actions! Plan carefully!”

The surrounding soldiers had been somewhat nervous. Pei Shu suddenly wanting to mobilize the army—a few thousand men wanting to attack all of Yu Kingdom—everyone thought they’d likely become cannon fodder soon. Now hearing the Queen’s words, they gradually showed moved expressions, gazing at the Queen with shining eyes.

Pei Shu let Jing Hengbo kick him a few times without pain, then actually dismounted. Jing Hengbo dragged him toward the main tent. After closing the tent flap, just as she wanted to discuss her plans with him and calm his fiery temper, suddenly a big head rested on her shoulder.

Jing Hengbo was startled. Looking sideways, she saw Pei Shu rubbing his face against her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Jing Hengbo pushed his face with her hand. “Get up, I have business to discuss with you.”

“I performed well just now, didn’t I?” Pei Shu ignored her, pushing his head forward with a smile. “Look, your words about caring for soldiers like sons—how moved they were? This escort army isn’t direct troops, so now they should have some loyalty to you.”

Jing Hengbo was stunned. So his words and actions just now were deliberate?

Thinking carefully, Pei Shu had always treated his subordinates well, otherwise he wouldn’t have led a group of trusted brothers in Tianhui Valley fighting heaven and earth for survival. Famous generals throughout history cherished their soldiers—the so-called “removing clothes to clothe them, sharing food to feed them.” Such heartless words shouldn’t have come from his mouth originally.

Had he deliberately acted rash and mobilized troops, showing contempt for human life, just so she would refute him and win over the army’s hearts because this escort army came from Imperial Song’s original garrison and lacked sufficient familiarity and loyalty to her?

Thinking it over, Jing Hengbo smiled somewhat wistfully. The Marshal was never truly a heartless crude person. His thoughtfulness was only understood by those closest to him.

“What happened to your true energy?” Pei Shu mumbled in her ear, hot breath brushing against her neck.

Jing Hengbo was ticklish and turned her head away, using both hands to push his head away forcefully. “Go away, it’s too hot.” She sat down leaning against the bedding.

“Don’t change the subject.” Pei Shu knelt behind her, reaching to embrace her waist. “What happened after you left earlier? I see your complexion isn’t right. Did you meet someone…”

“When did you become so talkative?” Jing Hengbo pushed him away and lay down on her side. She felt Pei Shu’s attitude was somewhat wrong—he seemed more intimate. Clearly recently, due to Meng Potian’s presence, Pei Shu had kept his distance, but suddenly he was acting affectionately again…

Fatigue struck her. Having no energy to think now, she simply turned to face away from him, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket, mumbling drowsily, “Let me rest a while. We’ll discuss my plan later. Oh…” She suddenly remembered something important, forcing her eyes open to instruct him, “I’m pretending to have amnesia, pretending not to remember Gong Yin. I don’t know if it worked, but you help me act it out first. Remember, I was injured by Xu Pingran and forgot about Gong Yin, only retaining some fragmented memories while searching for him. Coordinate our stories so we don’t get exposed later…”

Before finishing, she had fallen into deep sleep. Her body was exhausted to the extreme—even knowing crisis would soon descend, she couldn’t control it.

Pei Shu’s hand, which had been about to tuck in her blanket, stopped mid-air.

His thick black eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Jing Hengbo’s back in disbelief.

What was this woman saying?

Gong Yin?

She had found Gong Yin? When? Was it just earlier? So that’s why her true power was gone and she was acting so strangely?

She had clearly been willing to accept him, so why was she still obsessing over Gong Yin?

He had finally seen a glimmer of hope—why did he have to hear that name again?

This woman stirred up trouble like ripples in a spring pond—what was she trying to do?

He glared at Jing Hengbo’s shoulders and back, wanting to immediately turn her over, question her thoroughly, and warn her not to be fickle! Make her explain clearly!

But hearing Jing Hengbo’s even breathing that started within moments, that hand could not extend no matter what—she was too tired, having lost all true energy, covered in wounds, utterly exhausted, desperately needing restorative sleep.

After staring blankly for a long while, Pei Shu suddenly rose and strode out of the tent, shouting, “Anyone breathing, come here!”

His personal guard, also an old subordinate from their Tianhui Valley days, immediately hurried over and stood three feet behind him. “Marshal.”

“Tell me!” Pei Shu gritted his teeth viciously, “Are there any drugs that can cause amnesia!”

“Ah?”

“Amnesia… pretend amnesia… what pretend amnesia—might as well really forget!”

“Ah… Marshal, what are you saying?”

“I’m just asking if there are any!”

“Reporting to Marshal, yes! Deep in Tianhui Valley there’s a grass called Forget Dust. Combined with viper blood, Seven Step Grass, Soul Forgetting Powder, then having a renowned alchemist adjust proportions, it can create Great Forgetting Pills.”

“What’s the effect?”

“Sufficient to make the taker forget even his own mother completely!”

“Excellent, go do it immediately!”

“Yes!”

“Wait… if he forgets his mother, does he still remember his father?”

“Of course not. Complete great forgetting means all things cease. His father, mother, sister, wife—everyone he’s known this lifetime must all be forgotten!”

“…Bastard! Who told you to forget so many!”

“Marshal…”

“Just forget one person—whoever I point to. Is that possible?”

“Reporting to Marshal, the difficulty is too high. It requires time to develop!”

“…Get lost!”

…

The loyal subordinate left to return to Tianhui Valley to research high-difficulty amnesia drugs.

Leaving Pei Shu standing alone before the camp, extremely irritated as he polished his sword.

The sword light was like snow, unstained by dust. Pei Shu’s finger moved slowly up that pool of autumn water, lightly pressing at the tip. A trace of blood entered the blade, vanishing instantly. The blade remained brilliantly lustrous, like snow, like moon.

This sword drank blood eagerly, so much so that blood left no trace.

Pei Shu’s face was also cold as the sword, showing heart-stopping whiteness.

The blade like a mirror seemed to reflect myriad human affairs. Vaguely it showed years past beneath Imperial Song city walls—golden armor and iron horses, him knocking at gates below the city to offer his sword, that white-clothed person above refusing horses and guarding the pass.

In a blink it was a desolate long street, prison carts rolling, streets emptied as everyone watched him, this “traitorous traitor.” No one knew his grievance, no one knew he’d fallen victim to another’s counter-intelligence plot. Rotten eggs and vegetable scraps rained down like drops. The former flower-adorned young hero had become a great traitor cursed by all. A journey of shame, never to be forgotten.

In another blink came Tianhui Valley’s gray sky and black mud. He crawled and struggled in mud, dust, and poison gas, fighting for survival. Occasionally looking up at the gray sky, he would think of that unstained person. One counter-intelligence plot had destroyed the Golden Marshal’s reputation, causing the Golden Division to destroy its own Great Wall. Now as he barely survived in poison gas, was that person celebrating with raised cups in Yuzhao Palace?

The greatest harm to a person isn’t seizing their wealth and status, but stripping away their dignity and reputation, casting them into dust to bear lifelong infamy and die in depression.

The deep hatred was already irreconcilable. He had originally wanted to let go, spending his life following that woman through joys and vengeance. But some things, some people, always couldn’t be bypassed or avoided.

As if owed from previous lives, this life constantly being plundered by him. Reputation, success, status, even… the beloved woman.

Pei Shu’s finger, intentionally or not, pressed hard on the sword edge.

A trace of blood dripped down.

…

Jing Hengbo woke quickly—she had matters on her mind and couldn’t sleep soundly.

Upon waking she immediately sent someone to fetch Pei Shu. He arrived quickly with a normal expression. Jing Hengbo had been somewhat uneasy, but seeing him so normal, she felt she was making too much of things. Some matters became more anger-inducing the more they were explained—better not to explain and let them pass.

Pei Shu brought not-so-good news: military traces had been discovered in all directions thirty li outside their camp.

Jing Hengbo asked Pei Shu, “Did you bring the elite small units specially trained by the Horizontal Halberd Army?”

“Brought one hundred-man unit.”

“Split them into two batches and send them out. One team to Si Water Prefecture, one team to Qian Chuan Prefecture, to help me confirm something.” Jing Hengbo took out a section of hand bone from her chest, murmuring, “Sorry, sorry. Digging graves and splitting bones isn’t my wish—it’s all to help you clear your name. Don’t blame me, don’t blame me.” Taking a knife, she split the hand bone in half and handed it to Pei Shu. “Si Water and Qian Chuan are the fiefs of Yu Kingdom’s two princes. Have our people take the hand bones and infiltrate the prince residences to first look at those two princes’ hands.”

“Hands?”

Jing Hengbo pointed at the rather long finger bone. “This finger bone is a distinguishing feature. I want to verify if it matches my suspicions.”

“You mean…” Pei Shu’s eyes lit up.

“If the princes’ hands also appear particularly long, then leave this hand bone for them to see and tell them it was dug up from Yelu Estate. If those two are clever enough, they’ll know what to do.” Jing Hengbo smiled. “Our military strength is insufficient and we can’t mobilize troops in time. Yu Guangting will definitely use all his power to crush us in Yu Kingdom, but he’s forgotten that the two princes’ garrison troops aren’t far away.”

“Excellent—I most love chaotic battles.” Pei Shu grinned, his teeth bright and dazzling.

“Report!” Someone outside loudly reported, “Unmarked armies appeared ten li away! Approximately ten thousand people have surrounded the camp. Please decide, Your Majesty and Marshal!”

Jing Hengbo chuckled.

“No identification? He acts sneakily while I’ll be open and aboveboard. Someone, raise the Queen’s flag! Send Imperial Song Black Feather fast cavalry carrying royal banners and edicts to break out from behind, cross the river to Yu Kingdom’s capital, proclaiming all along the way that the Queen has arrived in Yu Kingdom and ordering Yu Kingdom’s civil and military officials to come out and welcome her along the route!”

“Yes.”

“Indeed!” Pei Shu praised. “He wants to secretly exterminate you, while you openly announce it. No matter what, Imperial Song remains the center of Dahuang, and Yu Kingdom is still under Imperial Song’s jurisdiction. Though the Regent Prince wants to exterminate you at any cost, Yu Kingdom’s ministers may not be willing to battle Imperial Song.”

“Let them fight if they want. His neighbor Xiang Kingdom, and beyond that the Floating Water tribes, would love nothing more than for Yu Kingdom to have troubles so they can share some benefits.” Jing Hengbo smiled charmingly. “Dahuang is scattered sand. Without breaking it up for reorganization and re-melting in the furnace, how can it solidify into a unified iron plate again?”

“Also go to that tent holding prisoners and take one piece of jewelry from each of those young masters, sending them by fast horse to that army.” Jing Hengbo continued instructing the outside soldiers. “Tell them I wish to host a grand feast with famous dishes—the main courses being stir-fried young master liver and braised rich boy head. I invite all gentlemen to come taste, but they must come themselves. The time limit is one hour. If guests don’t come to the door in one hour, I’ll eat alone, mwah mwah!”

The soldiers accepted the disgusting orders and left the tent.

Pei Shu gazed at Jing Hengbo with bright eyes—this Queen strategizing with sparkling eyes was the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

The most beautiful Queen had happily ordered, “Someone go buy pigs from the village, slaughter them—intestines, liver, heart, lungs… bring all the pig organs! We’ll make a complete organ feast later!”

“Why all pig organs?” Pei Shu asked curiously.

Jing Hengbo turned back with a smile—warm, gentle, and enchanting, except her eyes seemed to hold some malicious intent.

“Because… Gong Yin vomits whenever he sees pig organs.”