At the end of September in year 372, Shen Tie also submitted a letter of allegiance to Di Ge. What made this different was that this time, the letter was personally delivered by Shen Tie’s King Tie Xinze.

The rulers of various nations and tribes rarely came to Di Ge personally, but Tie Xinze was an exception. Given his friendship with Gong Yin and Jing Hengbo, he immediately received an audience with Jing Hengbo.

In Jingting, Jing Hengbo finally learned what had happened after Gong Yin and Tie Xinze led away the Mo Army. Tie Xinze apologized repeatedly and expressed his intention to fulfill his promise by giving up the Shen Tie throne. Jing Hengbo merely smiled. “He doesn’t even want Di Ge, so naturally he wouldn’t take Shen Tie either.”

The news Tie Xinze brought made her suspect that Gong Yin very likely never returned to Di Ge after leaving Shen Tie. She immediately gave the detection bead to the Feicui Queen, asking her to send people with the bead to search among the northern nations and tribes of the Great Wilderness.

She warmly invited Tie Xinze to stay in Di Ge for some time. He agreed, still living in his former hostage residence, keeping a low profile and being cautious in word and deed. Jing Hengbo kept considering whether to bring Zirui to meet with Tie Xinze.

But she was very busy. After taking control of government affairs, she conducted a massive purge of court officials. First, she opened the gates to criticism, listening to Di Ge citizens’ evaluations of noble families. Then, based on verified complaints, she immediately carried out extensive dismissals. This move affected the deep-rooted interests of many powerful families, immediately causing enormous backlash from court officials. For consecutive days, lights burned mysteriously in various noble residences, people came and went secretly, private communications were endless. During court sessions, everyone remained silent and stood with hands bound, creating a strange atmosphere. Officials were anxious, court tension was high, yet Jing Hengbo seemed completely oblivious, pressuring when she should pressure, dismissing when she should dismiss, replacing when she should replace. Soon, court attendance dwindled daily, with the hall sparsely populated, barely filling two rows.

The Queen’s harsh pressure and severity made ministers uneasy and dissatisfied. The officials already had insufficient acceptance of the Queen due to the original Di Ge incident, and now they felt even more strongly that they absolutely could not let an angry Queen rule the Great Wilderness, or everyone would eventually die without burial ground.

This winter passed in such manner. Many court officials couldn’t even enjoy the New Year properly. On New Year’s Eve, Her Majesty ordered the confiscation of three noble family estates.

On New Year’s Eve, flickering lights illuminated groups of criminals being dragged crying from their homes. Ministers living in Gongde Ward and Xige Ward listened all night to the ceaseless crying and house-searching sounds. Facing tables full of delicacies, their faces were grim. Children no longer dared celebrate joyfully, held tightly in their mothers’ arms, listening fearfully to distant wails and disturbances. Firecracker sounds echoed from the far-off poor quarters, while dark alleys were scattered with paper flowers. Only commoners could enjoy the New Year peacefully now. All of Di Ge’s nobility couldn’t swallow their food, listening to the crying beyond their doors like hearing their own funeral bells.

At this moment, the Queen sat alone in the great hall. With doors closed, refusing all company, she slowly filled two wine cups before a table of New Year’s feast.

“We only spent one New Year together.”

“Without you, this year is just like this—hearing laughter is worse than hearing crying.”

“Next New Year, the one after that, every New Year for the rest of life—you must spend them all with me.”

“Just wait a little longer. Soon now. Very soon.”

The wine’s sound as it hit the cup was clear and bright, slowly forming a hanging silver gleam, like memories stretched through time, filtering away sorrow, leaving a trace of life’s bitter-spicy fragrance.

Another year.

In the spring of year 373, after a winter of fear and trepidation, secret meetings and rumors began to emerge restlessly from Di Ge’s soil. These rumors were mostly unfavorable to the Queen. Some concerned the Queen’s origins, claiming she came from a brothel. Some concerned her illegitimate claim to the throne, saying she used beauty to bewitch Gong Yin and all his generals. Some concerned current imperial secrets, claiming Gong Yin hadn’t met with misfortune or yielded the realm, but had lured all the Queen’s forces into Di Ge to catch them all in one net.

Especially this last type of rumor excited people most. Beneath the seemingly calm surface of Di Ge’s noble families, undercurrents surged rapidly, churning with mysteriously gleaming waves.

Among those around Jing Hengbo, except for Pei Shu who shouldered everything single-handedly, the rest were quite worried. The group of old ministers especially advised daily, strongly urging Jing Hengbo to proceed gradually and gently, prioritizing appeasement, not acting too hastily to avoid causing Di Ge unrest.

“Ridiculous. How dare they? Don’t they see all of Di Ge’s military power is in my hands?” the Queen replied.

The ministers all shook their heads and sighed, privately grumbling that the Queen had become arrogant after victory, too reckless and proud, yet they dared not speak further.

Such conversations gradually spread out, making the uneasy ministers even more anxious, their private activities increasingly frequent. Jing Hengbo didn’t mind, nor did she control it. Presently Di Ge’s surface public order was becoming increasingly peaceful. She even ordered the lifting of Di Ge’s curfew and gradually relaxed control over court officials.

Subsequently, several minor incidents occurred consecutively in Di Ge. A few officers from the Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry and a deputy general from the Kanglong Army had conflicts and fought, both being confined by their respective commanders. Several major competing financial conglomerates in Di Ge suddenly made peace and established a merchant alliance. The Kanglong Army’s commander had a son in his old age, and so forth.

These matters seemed unrelated to court politics, so no one noticed that recently many noble families in Di Ge had sent their direct descendants away for business or study, leaving Di Ge.

Such minor matters naturally couldn’t disturb the Queen. Gradually rumors spread in the palace that Her Majesty had recently become obsessed with drink, frequently getting drunk, nightly inebriated in Yuzhao Palace. Palace servants saw her drunkenly playing with some strange round object in her hands at midnight, or climbing onto the swing frame in her chambers to swing higher and higher, frighteningly high. Once she let go and suddenly disappeared—the next moment came the sound of breaking windows, and she was found sprawled on the desk in Jingting’s former State Preceptor’s study.

As such incidents multiplied, more rumors emerged, saying this Di Ge had originally been yielded by the former State Preceptor. Though the State Preceptor had once expelled the Queen, deep in his heart he never forgot her and had long planned to compensate with the realm. But the Queen’s heart wasn’t set on seizing Di Ge—she only wanted to return to the past with the State Preceptor. Now that she had returned to Di Ge but the State Preceptor had left, the Queen was deeply affected, abandoning herself to despair.

This news was infinitely close to the truth. Some were delighted, some worried, but regardless of others’ joy, shock, scheming, or thoughts, the Queen continued acting as she pleased—increasingly harsh and tyrannical in court politics, but after court sessions engaging in various leisurely drinking bouts. Tonight drunk in Jingting, tomorrow night drunk in Yuzhao Palace, the night after simply drunk atop the palace walls, laughing at the three flagpoles. Ministers who rushed over upon hearing pointed upward, old ministers wept and knelt begging the Queen to return to the palace, while more people lurked in shadows with grim expressions and flickering gazes.

But the Queen lay motionless, gazing up at the three flagpoles under the starry sky. The founding empress’s flag fluttered as before. Her own queen’s flag hadn’t been replaced with a new one—she had truly mended and patched the old flag. The darkened red banner with its ferocious large X could be considered history’s ugliest queen’s flag.

The flagpole belonging to Gong Yin had no new flag, remaining empty.

In everyone’s minds, that flag naturally had no need to be raised again, and that flagpole would eventually be cut down. No one knew that the flag had long been prepared, even its design completed, hidden deep in Yuzhao Palace’s storehouse. Only the timing for it to unfurl in the wind hadn’t yet arrived.

Jing Hengbo lay on the cold blue brick ground, looking up at that empty flagpole, but before her eyes floated that flag she had personally designed. Only on that flag was her hope fully loaded, telling herself and the Great Wilderness what true completeness would be.

Just as now she gripped the wine jar, leaning against the city wall, looking at the starry lights of Di Ge below, then extending far beyond Di Ge—beyond the mountains and marshes lay the already surrendered Xiang Kingdom, Huangjin Tribe, Dai Mao, Feicui, Yi Kingdom… and the territories of those nations and tribes not yet under foot. The sum of all those mountains and marshes was the world.

Footsteps sounded behind her, heavy—it was Pei Shu. Now, among her trusted confidants, only Pei Shu still wanted to come drag this elusive drunk around daily. Though he cursed more fiercely than anyone, raging as if he wanted to crack her skull from the first time, in the end, he persisted longest.

A pair of strong arms reached over, dragging her up in one motion, skillfully locking her legs to prevent her from whooshing away to some corner.

Pei Shu’s brow was tightly furrowed as he clamped her firmly under his arm—last time he carelessly let her escape, he finally found her after searching half the palace, discovering her hanging upside down from a low wall on the roof of the women’s latrine in the side palace where palace maids lived, facing the cesspit and retching. When he dragged her down, she smiled drunkenly with misty eyes: “This pit is good, so big, so convenient!”

Thinking of that night under starlight—Jing Hengbo reeking of alcohol and filth, pale-faced with red eyes—then thinking of the previous lazy and seductive Jing Hengbo who was always beautifully adorned and clean as jade, Pei Shu couldn’t help clenching his fingers tighter and tighter.

After enduring for a long time, he said: “Did you drink a little less today? I’ve had something to tell you…”

Before he finished speaking, his arm felt heavier. Looking down, he saw Jing Hengbo’s head resting on his arm, thick eyelashes drooping, breath carrying heavy wine fumes.

She had fallen asleep.

Pei Shu gazed at her for a long while, could only sigh, shift her to his back, and carry her back to the palace before returning to his own residence—Jing Hengbo had granted him the former Minister of Rites’ mansion.

With Pei Shu’s nature, he would prefer staying in the palace to care for her, but now with rumors flying throughout the city and endless criticism of the Queen, including insinuations that the Queen relied on feminine wiles to capture famous generals and gain the world, Pei Shu didn’t care about being accused of coveting female beauty, but he didn’t want Jing Hengbo’s reputation stained.

The palace was silent in the night, lights unlit, atmosphere sparse. Pei Shu carried Jing Hengbo all the way to her chambers without seeing a single guard. Frowning, he threw Jing Hengbo onto the couch and was about to find Ying Bai to have him properly manage the palace guard when suddenly Jing Hengbo rolled over on the couch and reached out to pull him back.

Pei Shu’s body stiffened.

For that instant, his heart pounded heavily, so heavily it seemed about to leap from his throat.

The palace doors stood open, midnight’s cool breeze entered uninvited. Though the bone-piercing cold should have brought clarity, his mind suddenly became chaotic.

Why did she pull him back in this moment?

Was it vulnerability after drunkenness?

Did she need comfort?

Did she mistake him for Gong Yin?

Though his back was to her, he could feel her slender fingers like flower petals, softly resting on his garment’s hem, her posture in the moonlight as serene as a newly bloomed night-blooming cereus.

He felt her breathing slightly quickened, scattering wine’s sweetness and her rich fragrance into the air.

He felt murmuring sounds in her throat, extremely faint, like midsummer night’s whispered dreams.

His body tensed, making his senses extraordinarily sharp. Her breathing, her movements, her whispers all seemed like gentle invitations, responding to the longing deep in his heart—he had desired to be close to her for too long, too long.

Pei Shu slowly turned around.

Under moonlight the woman lay sideways on the couch, half her body restlessly hanging off the edge, long hair scattered, falling to the floor, its luster rippling like black silk under the moon.

He suddenly wanted very much to stroke her hair, truly approach her fragrance. Since they’d known each other, she had always been like a big sister, laughing and playing around, dissolving all ambiguous feelings with laughter. He had never had the opportunity to calmly approach her as a man who admired her.

He slowly knelt beside the couch, reached out, slowly stroking her hair. It felt soft and smooth—her uniquely slightly curled long hair had a peculiar undulating texture, matching his similarly undulating emotions.

She showed no reaction, still murmuring something. He gazed at her half-revealed forehead for a long time, brushed aside her bangs, and slowly leaned closer.

Just two inches away were those red lips, bright crimson, stained with crystalline wine like dew-dropped roses at dawn.

Then he heard clearly what she was saying.

“…Potian is coming soon, just these few days… gave me a message, you go meet… meet…”

Like cold water suddenly poured down, he actually trembled all over. Though so close at this moment, he could only feel her breath hotly against his face, while he himself suddenly stopped breathing.

The fingers brushing her hair trembled slightly, nearly pulling out her hair. He abruptly withdrew his hand and stood up sharply.

Jing Hengbo remained oblivious, still murmuring softly. Under moonlight the woman’s figure was exquisite, but he no longer wanted to look, no longer wanted to listen.

Wind passed over palace walls, moon filled cold windows, silver light flooded the hall. A uniform frost-white spread from the palace entrance to his feet, as if snow had fallen everywhere.

His shadow stretched long and black behind him. Heaven and earth seemed to hold only black and white.

All around was silent. The woman’s drunken murmurs and whispers only made this vast palace chamber feel even more unbearably lonely and desolate.

After an unknown time, footsteps suddenly arose—quick and decisive, moving steadily away.

No hesitation or lingering.

Palace lanterns in the corridor were blown spinning by the quickly passing wind, casting swaying light and shadow on the couch.

The person on the couch lay with hair trailing to the ground, completely motionless.

…

That night swift horses shattered Di Ge’s quiet streets, galloping all the way out the city gates.

The city guards initially moved to stop them—not everyone could leave the city at midnight. However, the token thrown at them made them immediately shut up, hurriedly opened the city gates, and respectfully watched those dozen riders gallop away.

“What’s Brigadier Pei rushing to do in the middle of the night?”

Cold wind blew, making the soldier shiver. He looked up at the sky and muttered, “This weather, unseasonably cold, looks like it might snow…”

…

Pei Shu didn’t return that day after leaving the city. The next night, just as that soldier was about to finish his shift, he suddenly felt the ground trembling slightly. This familiar trembling alarmed his heart. He quickly ran up the city wall, first looking outside—the dark plains were silent. Then he looked back at the city and suddenly saw half the city in flames.

Half of Di Ge’s eastern city, concentrated with all ministers’ and nobles’ residences, all government offices, and Yuzhao Palace at Di Ge’s center—now those streets that should have been dark were filled with flowing firelight. Fire suddenly ignited from somewhere and flowed in one direction, converging at the center—precisely Yuzhao Palace!

That soldier was so shocked he nearly fell—this scene was almost identical to the palace coup that expelled the Queen over two years ago!

No, it was different. This time the scale was larger with more people, and clearly not peaceful petitioning, because the wind carried the scent of iron weapons and blood, horses’ neighing and people’s shouts, and the clashing sounds of metal weapons.

Looking at the western city, there were also vast, vague white torrents flowing forward, but obviously slower than the eastern city and seemingly blocked by something. At various horse-accessible streets throughout Di Ge, dark masses of people appeared like iron nails, nailed into all the routes leading to Yuzhao Palace, determined to break the charging cavalry’s legs.

Eastern city was the Kanglong Army’s garrison area, western city was the Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry! Inside and outside Yuzhao Palace was the Hengji Army.

That soldier stared blankly at Di Ge, which had instantly become a chaotic mess, looking at those noble residences in Gongde Ward and Xige Ward that had suddenly almost all lit up, then looking back at the cold, dark area outside the city. He immediately understood—Di Ge had rebelled!

On the ninth day of the third month in year 373, rebellion erupted within Di Ge city. This was the first time in Great Wilderness history that internal uprising occurred in Di Ge without external enemies, and the first time rebellion was organized and launched by Di Ge’s nobility and inner ministers.

That night, thirty-seven noble families and court officials led by the Xuanyuan clan, taking advantage of Hengji Army Commander Pei Shu being outside the city and Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry Commander-in-Chief Ying Bai traveling to the Feicui tribe on business, suborned the Kanglong Army and mobilized family private troops. The Kanglong Army was responsible for blocking the Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry’s rescue attempts, while the remaining twenty thousand private troops attacked the Hengji Army stationed inside and outside Yuzhao Palace, directly assaulting Yuzhao Palace.

The rebel forces declared the Queen tyrannical, treating human life as grass, disrupting court governance, harming the Great Wilderness, and must be immediately deposed and executed. They commanded secretly united private armies in a full night’s assault on Yuzhao Palace.

Because the area around the palace walls was limited, only ten thousand Hengji Army troops were stationed in the city—sufficient to guard the imperial city but somewhat strained against the sudden rebel army. Moreover, these deeply rooted noble powers knew palace conditions intimately and had bribed many palace servants. After a night of fierce battle, when countless corpses again lay across the plaza and blood stained the white marble floor red, suddenly came a thunderous boom. Everyone turned to see the deep red palace gates slowly opening. A ray of morning sunlight slowly opened like a giant fan between the two enormous red doors.

Behind that ray of sunlight, standing in shadow, were several palace servants with cowering expressions. Facing the aggressively approaching rebel army, they showed fawning, life-seeking smiles.

On the tenth day of the third month in year 373, palace servants secretly opened the palace gates to welcome the rebel army. Yuzhao Palace fell.