Pei Shu was still in his fury when his eyes swept past, about to rebuke this person to leave. Suddenly he paused, squinting to carefully examine this man.

Wearing such heavy clothing in this season was abnormal in itself. At this time, even while he was still angry, for someone to approach him so silently was also abnormal. Most importantly, he suddenly remembered some things Jing Hengbo had told him, where three words were repeatedly mentioned: “cloaked man.”

In Jing Hengbo’s previous journey, such a person—mysterious and unfathomable, with sinister methods—had done many deadly things.

Pei Shu stared at him, instinctively retreating in wariness, only to discover the cliff behind him left no room for retreat.

The cloaked man’s face hidden under his hood seemed to smile before speaking with a gentle voice: “Has the Young Marshal been well?”

Pei Shu didn’t stupidly ask “You know me?” Such a question would be pointless. This person had approached without reason and surely came with purpose—of course he knew him.

“I’m very well.” He sneered coldly. “You needn’t greet me, needn’t discuss the weather with me, and needn’t bring up past events. No matter how angry I am, I won’t be foolish enough to listen to an enemy’s ulterior manipulations.”

The cloaked man seemed stunned, then laughed hoarsely while shaking his head. “The world says Young Marshal Pei has a temperament fierce as fire, violent and unrestrained. Now it seems they only see the surface, not the essence. If he were truly violent and brutal, how could he have such cunning military tactics and a hundred victorious battles? I haven’t even opened my mouth yet, but you’ve guessed my intentions eight or nine points correctly and blocked all my conversational paths.”

Pei Shu crossed his arms, looking at him sideways. “There’s much you don’t know about me. For instance, you don’t know that when I want to be alone and quiet, if someone disturbs me, I want to kill them.”

His tone was calm yet overflowing with murderous intent. All the mountain winds seemed to grow bitter because of this.

But the cloaked man’s smile didn’t change. He elegantly brushed his sleeves. “Young Marshal, I’ve come today with sincere intentions to befriend you. I know you have misunderstandings about me because of Her Majesty the Empress. Indeed, for various reasons, I’ve offended Her Majesty more than once in the past. But Young Marshal, having the Empress’s trust, must have heard the detailed accounts. You’ll discover that in those events, my main target was always Gong Yin, not Her Majesty. Her Majesty simply suffered collateral damage from always being with Gong Yin.”

Pei Shu squinted. “You’re quite frank.”

The cloaked man continued gently: “Before such a perceptive person as the Young Marshal, naturally I must speak openly. Just now I was indeed nearby and witnessed the entire affair. I needn’t stir up trouble—the Young Marshal must know that you and Gong Yin cannot coexist.”

“That’s still none of your business.” Pei Shu’s attitude toward outsiders was coldly indifferent, not much better than Gong Yin’s.

“How is it not my business?” The cloaked man stepped forward earnestly. “Due to my sect’s circumstances, I must slay Gong Yin. The Young Marshal and I share the same enemy. Gong Yin is cautious—neither you nor I alone would likely succeed. Why not join hands to eliminate this villain?”

“A man of eight chi stature doesn’t engage in shameful deeds.” Pei Shu laughed coldly. “If I want to kill, I’ll kill myself. What would I become if I conspired with you?”

“A man like the Young Marshal, unwilling to wrong himself, suppresses his blood feud and continuously yields to Gong Yin—ultimately it’s only because you can’t bear to sadden Her Majesty and don’t wish to break with her.” The cloaked man said calmly. “But has the Young Marshal considered that with grudges formed and knots permanent, retreat and forbearance can only last temporarily, not forever? If you forbear and don’t kill Gong Yin, Her Majesty will never spare you a glance in this lifetime. If you forbear and don’t kill Gong Yin, what will those brothers who suffered with you and crossed life and death together think of you?”

Pei Shu’s handsome brows rose as he angrily said: “A real man distinguishes between kindness and enmity, resolving gratitude and revenge himself! I said don’t try to manipulate me!” His sword leaped out a foot from behind his waist. In the clear, ringing sound, he sneered: “Crude!”

The cloaked man didn’t retreat, only looked up and smiled: “What if I swear here that as long as you agree to cooperate with me to kill Gong Yin, I’ll never again attempt to harm the Empress?”

Pei Shu’s gaze flashed.

The cloaked man said leisurely: “Admittedly I’m tempting and manipulating, but regardless, the fact that you and Gong Yin have irreconcilable hatred is real, and your need to kill him is inevitable. I can frankly tell you—Gong Yin and Jing Hengbo are one entity. To kill Gong Yin, I can’t avoid Jing Hengbo, so I must also deal with Jing Hengbo, placing her in danger. You should know I do have some capability.”

Pei Shu stared at him coldly, his hand gripping the sword hilt loosening and tightening repeatedly.

The cloaked man’s gaze swept over his hand, a trace of smile in his eyes. “So as long as you help me eliminate Gong Yin, I can swear not to harm Jing Hengbo in the slightest. She now holds high position with only me as a hidden enemy. If I withdraw, she’ll have no worries in the world. Young Marshal, please set aside your obsession and think carefully—is it worth giving up the chance to let your beloved woman rest easy forever for the sake of an enemy you must kill anyway?”

His voice was slightly hoarse, his tone peaceful. He didn’t deliberately stir or seduce, yet every word was practical, striking the heart.

“You’re unwilling to cooperate with me for fear Jing Hengbo will be harmed, but what if cooperating with me could prevent Jing Hengbo from being harmed?” He stepped forward again, his tone increasingly earnest. “Isn’t this exactly what you’ve wanted to achieve by following Her Majesty all this way? Kill an enemy you must kill anyway while protecting the person you want to protect—why not?”

Pei Shu’s eyes brightened as if moved. The cloaked man stepped forward again. Pei Shu suddenly stared at his boots and said slowly: “Stop.”

The cloaked man seemed to just notice and quickly retreated apologetically. “Got carried away talking. Sorry about that.”

Pei Shu ignored him, only saying: “I admit what you say makes sense. But why should I trust you?”

“I can swear—”

“Oaths are bullshit.” Pei Shu rudely interrupted. “Even national treaties can be torn up. How can moving lips up and down count for anything?”

The cloaked man thought, then smiled: “Then only one method remains to prove sincerity.” He clapped his hands. After a moment, two people emerged from behind trees, bringing out a cloaked woman.

This woman was also cloaked from head to toe, her face unclear. She walked very slowly with a strange posture, as if ill somehow.

The two delivered the woman then retreated far away. Pei Shu didn’t even glance at those people—such minor characters were like cats and dogs in his eyes. He kept his wary gaze fixed on the cloaked man.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he said.

The cloaked man pointed at the cloaked woman. “This person sought refuge with me a few days ago. Originally quite a valuable asset, I planned to use her as a weapon against the Empress. Now, to show sincerity, I present her to the Young Marshal for disposal.”

He waved his sleeve. The woman stumbled and fell prostrate before Pei Shu, trembling and not daring to raise her head.

Pei Shu looked down at her, seeing only black hair on top, and said impatiently: “Raise your head.”

But the woman refused to lift her head. Pei Shu grew more impatient. The cloaked man smiled: “An old acquaintance.”

Pei Shu lightly touched his toe to the woman’s chin. She involuntarily raised her head, the hood falling back. Pei Shu’s glance swept over her. He froze and exclaimed: “Ming Cheng—”

Instantly his face showed uncontrollable disgust and loathing.

Ming Cheng hastily lowered her head again, her greenish face pressed to the dirt as she shrank back two steps.

Pei Shu watched her crawl backward like a rat or insect without stopping her, only saying coldly to the cloaked man: “Wasn’t she in Di Ge’s prison? You rescued her? Impressive methods.”

“I told you I have considerable capability.” The cloaked man smiled modestly. “Ming Cheng’s escape and submission to me was surely meant to harm Her Majesty. Now that I present her to the Young Marshal, surely this sufficiently demonstrates sincerity?”

Pei Shu frowned at Ming Cheng. When Jing Hengbo infiltrated Di Ge and Ming Cheng was imprisoned, he was outside pursuing Xu Pingran, returning only after more than half a year. After returning, he had no interest in seeing this woman. He had told Jing Hengbo: why keep this troublemaker—just kill her cleanly. Jing Hengbo smiled without speaking, so he dropped the matter. Now this woman indeed hadn’t given up her evil intentions!

“Hand her over to me for disposal?” he asked.

“As long as the Young Marshal agrees to my small request.”

“I don’t think one Ming Cheng is worth my concession.” Pei Shu wasn’t easy to deal with.

“She’s naturally worthless—she’s just my demonstration of sincerity. I’m proving my oaths are useful. When I say I won’t try to harm the Empress, I won’t.” The cloaked man kicked Ming Cheng forward. “If I recall correctly, this woman once violated the Young Marshal…”

He didn’t continue because Pei Shu’s brows suddenly rose, his sword ringing with killing intent that even made the blade sing.

The cloaked man wisely shut up.

The deep red wound between Pei Shu’s brows seemed like a fierce eye, coldly pressing toward Ming Cheng.

Under such killing intent, Ming Cheng shook like falling leaves, no longer daring to raise her head.

Fallen leaves rustled past the dark cliff. The air suddenly grew countless times colder.

Before Pei Shu’s eyes, the green trees and blue cliffs suddenly transformed into the Golden Tribe’s royal palace from long ago—towering buildings and jade halls, brocade and carved dragons.

That night the Great King had suddenly summoned him urgently to the palace.

At that time he was still the illustrious Young Marshal of the Golden Tribe and the entire Great Wilderness—victorious in every battle, the Golden Tribe’s supreme pride.

He had the right to enter and exit the palace freely, the right to ride horses before the throne, the right to command all tribal military affairs. Then he was young and spirited, utterly loyal to the royal family, pouring all his passion into training the Golden Tribe’s forces, determined to make the Golden Tribe brilliantly shine throughout the Great Wilderness.

At that time he couldn’t imagine the phrase “achievements threatening the master.”

That night he entered the palace. Entering at midnight was his privilege. Naturally his trusted guards couldn’t accompany him—they waited outside while he entered alone. In the palace’s main hall, he saw Great King Jin Zhaolong personally accompanying a distinguished guest.

The guest was a woman—veiled, expensively dressed, with a reserved bearing.

The guest personally poured wine for him, asking about world affairs and his strategic thinking. He disliked drinking with people who wore veils, finding it affected and disrespectful, so he was cold and indifferent.

The guest wasn’t angry, only earnestly urged him to drink. During the meal they discussed the six kingdoms and eight tribes, the central empire Di Ge, and the Left and Right State Preceptors. As his wine mood rose, he spoke eloquently. But he noticed Jin Zhaolong had somehow become wildly ambitious, actually thinking of attacking Di Ge directly to slay the Left and Right State Preceptors.

He disagreed, saying that Di Ge’s current Left and Right State Preceptors were supremely capable with the world’s allegiance. The hostage system forced the six kingdoms and eight tribes into dependence. The Golden Tribe alone couldn’t contend with them. Better to wait until he conquered surrounding tribes through campaigns, building military strength to new heights, then besiege Di Ge for certain victory.

During the meal he noticed Jin Zhaolong repeatedly seeking the veiled woman’s opinion with his eyes. He was puzzled—did this woman have a high status?

At that time he and Jin Zhaolong got along well as ruler and minister. Jin Zhaolong deferred to him in all matters, praising him everywhere. He was still young and thought he’d met a wise lord, wanting to repay him with utmost loyalty—heart and soul devoted. He’d risked his life to save Jin Zhaolong twice.

So he never imagined Jin Zhaolong’s inner wariness toward him, never imagined Jin Zhaolong’s complete exploitation and vigilance, ready to eliminate him the moment opportunity arose.

That night he got drunk.

The drunkenness was strange—like a line of fire from top to bottom, burning his entire body hot and scalding, his mind confused.

He cultivated pure yang energy and couldn’t tolerate blood-heating drugs. Somehow he passed out, but his heart sensed danger. He forced his eyes open to see the same great hall, but the candles had dimmed. Jin Zhaolong had left at some point, leaving only that mysterious woman guest. One hand held a cup, lazily raising it; the other tugged at her own clothing. Her red lips were like fire, her glances rippling yet contemptuous.

And he himself had somehow been stripped naked.

Greatly alarmed, he immediately knew he’d fallen into a deadly honey trap—old-fashioned yet lethal. He leaped up immediately, but when searching for his clothes found not a single piece. There weren’t even curtains nearby to cover himself, while footsteps approached from not far away—the arranged people were nearly here.

The woman was at ease, calculating that he had no way out. This place had only a front door, no back exit. The three great halls were connected and empty on all sides with people positioned everywhere. No matter where he charged out, he’d be seen naked.

She herself didn’t even need to undress—loosening one outer robe would be enough to condemn him.

Originally she hadn’t wanted to use this move. If only he’d agreed to cooperate with her and send troops to Di Ge, they would be allies needing no such base methods. But the young, spirited marshal was unexpectedly cool-headed regarding military strategy. With such a rare opportunity, she couldn’t let it pass and had to pressure Pei Shu.

Molesting the Empress was a capital crime, implicating nine generations and subordinates. Even if he didn’t care about his own life and death, he had to consider his family and followers.

Candlelight flickered as the youth panicked while outside clamor approached—Jin Zhaolong’s arranged people, surely flawless with perfect timing.

She slowly loosened her clothing, removing only an apricot-colored robe embroidered with colorful phoenixes, revealing her inner bodice and long skirt with a glimpse of snow-white fragrant shoulders.

The clear wine reflected his anxiety and her composure, reflected her confident smile. She calculated the timing, about to change to a startled expression and scream.

Suddenly he pounced over, snatched her outer robe, wrapped it around himself, and burst out the door.

She was stunned.

Those outside were also stunned, expecting a naked marshal but instead seeing a gorgeously dressed woman emerge. Everyone froze, not daring to advance.

The midnight wind was cold. Pei Shu, wrapped in a woman’s robe, found his horse, cut the reins, and galloped wildly from the palace.

The woman’s robe was intensely fragrant, almost stimulating. His naked thighs rubbed against the horse’s back. He whipped the horse forward while worrying his little brother would be damaged by friction and that pursuing guards would see him exposed.

That in this life there would be a day so wretched as to flee naked in women’s clothing before crowds—he never imagined it, never could accept it. The woman’s intense fragrance was nauseating. His humiliation and fury had reached their peak.

He’d wanted to draw his sword, turn back, and split that shameless woman’s head. But he knew he couldn’t. As long as he remained in the palace, as long as he touched her even slightly, the filthiest frame-up would succeed and he’d be forced to do what he refused to do.

He could only flee first.

Racing to the palace gates, he called them open. Fortunately the night’s events were secret and the gate guards hadn’t received orders to stop him. He exited the palace where his guard officers waited at the gates, shocked to see his appearance.

Who knew Ming Cheng would pursue, leading the chase. She’d intended to threaten him into another discussion, but Pei Shu was still under the drug’s influence plus heart attack from rage—he briefly fainted and fell from his horse.

His guard officers were shocked, naturally thinking Ming Cheng had harmed their marshal. Not recognizing the Empress, they immediately surrounded and attacked Ming Cheng. When he awoke, his subordinates’ crime of “rebellion against superiors, attempting to assassinate the Empress and Great King” was established. All were imprisoned for execution in three days.

Not only these trusted followers of many years, but all his trusted generals under the Golden Army and all his family members were arrested in one day on charges of high treason. Only he was given freedom.

This so-called freedom was merely the choice between fighting and dying.

He’d wanted to rage like a commoner and die with blood splattering three feet, killing Ming Cheng then himself. But he wasn’t a commoner—he bore responsibility for his entire army’s safety. What he faced was royal wrath and rivers of blood.

Ming Cheng wanted real imperial power, Jin Zhaolong wanted greater territory. The two hit it off perfectly, but this crucial famous general wouldn’t cooperate. At that time, the Golden Army obeyed almost only his commands.

How could this be allowed?

Half a month later, he led troops to attack Di Ge.

He planned that after this battle, regardless of victory or defeat, he’d take his trusted followers far from the Golden Tribe.

Jin Zhaolong planned that after this battle, with the rabbit dead and the dog cooked, this thoroughly offended, unruly general would be completely erased from the world.

This battle was strange. His trusted followers were imprisoned while subordinates around him were all Jin Zhaolong’s people—command was inconvenient with various obstacles. Originally victory was unlikely.

But suddenly palace upheaval occurred. The Left State Preceptor wasn’t in Di Ge while the Right State Preceptor was seriously injured, personally going to the city walls to lead resistance. After three days and nights of battle, he nearly broke into Di Ge.

Finally came that counter-espionage scheme.

Trust between him and Jin Zhaolong had already reached rock bottom—how could it withstand any manipulation?

Defeat at Di Ge was actually defeat by treacherous hearts, power schemes, and royal calculations.

Afterward, falling into disgrace with ruined reputation, barely surviving in Tianhui Valley worse than death—tracing it carefully, the root was actually that night when Ming Cheng urged him to drink.

Gong Yin was an enemy, but wasn’t Ming Cheng also? She disgusted him so much that even remembering felt insulting.

Wind rustled past.

The person at his feet trembled.

The empress who had once raised cups and removed clothing with smiling lips now shivered in dust before him.

He remembered her frivolous pride under those lights that night—those lights had never been extinguished, still burning in his eyes now.

Opposite him, the cloaked man smiled and watched, completely unconcerned.

Pei Shu stared at him and suddenly said: “Fine, I agree.”

With a ringing sound, autumn water in a pool, bright on the blue cliff.

Pei Shu’s long sword pointed at Ming Cheng’s crown.

“I never kill women in my life.” His voice was colder than the sword. “But you don’t count as human—an exception.”

Ming Cheng looked up in despair, her face covered in dust. She struggled on the ground, extending both hands as if to embrace his legs and plead.

Her sleeves were strangely long, hanging to the ground, concealing her hands.

Before she could move, Pei Shu’s sword flashed down. Ming Cheng screamed as both hands and sleeve sections were severed together.

The sleeves were cut very long—probably reaching the palms—but being so long, it was unclear exactly where they were cut. Only dark liquid slowly seeping through the black sleeves was visible.

“Approach one inch, lose one inch.” Pei Shu didn’t look at her, only at his sword tip. “Don’t dirty the ground before me.”

Ming Cheng dared not move again, slowly drawing her arms inward in a strange self-protective posture.

She seemed to know that whether pleading or acting tough would be wasted effort before Pei Shu, who bore blood hatred and extreme disgust for her.

So she only huddled in the dust awaiting death, her gray eyes gleaming coldly—whether from despair or mockery was unclear.

Pei Shu’s sword was bright as flowing water, its momentum also like water, sliding toward Ming Cheng’s forehead.

Killing intent shared the sword qi’s severity. The blade shone bright as dawn. Just then the evening sunset gathered its last traces of rosy clouds, lifted by the sword light like countless rainbows suddenly exploding before them.

Ming Cheng’s long hair flew up while even the cloaked man was forced to close his eyes slightly by that brilliant sword light.

Just in this instant of closed eyes.

Pei Shu’s sword tip suddenly flicked upward, sliding past Ming Cheng’s scalp and stabbing straight at the cloaked man’s heart!

In the flowing water and blazing sun sword light, his laughter echoed through the mountain forest.

“Sorry, I always wanted to kill you!”

Killing him would make Jing Hengbo truly safe, wouldn’t it!

Sword light like blazing sun covered the mountain peak. The foremost ray had reached the cloaked man’s forehead.

But the cloaked man didn’t cry out.

In this instant, he actually smiled too.

A light, weathered, knowing smile.

The world’s heroes, before making choices, actually shared the same aspiration.

He suddenly said softly: “Go!”

Just one word.

On the ground, Ming Cheng’s severed sleeves suddenly moved by themselves, leaping out like two small beasts with “ka-ka” sounds, grasping Pei Shu’s ankles!

Looking carefully, one could see fine threads still connected under the cut sleeves. Ming Cheng, who had shrunk back with arms folded, wasn’t awaiting death but using her arms to control those “severed” sections.

A strange smile curved her lips as her arms twisted from afar.

With his feet trapped, Pei Shu’s body tilted. His sword swept past the cloaked man’s forehead, cutting an identical wound to his own.

The cloaked man’s laughter echoed through the mountain forest like his.

“Sorry, actually I always wanted to kill you too!”

The negotiation was fake, the psychological attack was fake, offering the enemy was fake.

From the beginning he knew Pei Shu was impulsive but not reckless, even somewhat cunning in his actions. Persuading him was impossible.

What he wanted from the start was Pei Shu’s death!

“Go!”

Another command.

Ming Cheng’s arms suddenly pulled back sharply, then pushed forward violently.

There was a faint sound of powerful springs snapping.

The hands gripping Pei Shu’s ankles hurled outward with great force!

Pei Shu was already standing at the cliff edge. This throw sent him directly over the precipice!

The moment half his body hung in air over the cliff, the cloaked man waved his sleeve, sending a shower of ice crystals and broken snow over his head.

His laughter now sounded especially pleased.

“Look, doesn’t this move resemble Gong Yin’s technique?”

“Golden Young Marshal Pei Shu, killed by State Preceptor Gong Yin’s assassination.”

Pei Shu’s body flew from the blue cliff with endless sunset clouds behind him as he fell in the rosy light.

The cloaked man faced the sunset glow, squinting with shallow smile and light madness in his eyes.

“Tell me, will our Empress Majesty go mad?”