She pulled out that imperial edict.

“Edict for the State Preceptor’s Ascension to the Throne and the Establishment of the Mingcheng Queen as Empress”

When the short line of characters on the cover fell into her field of vision, for a moment, she actually didn’t comprehend the meaning of these words.

Her gaze lingered on the two characters “as Empress” for a long time, her eyes heavy and forceful, as if wanting to bore holes through those two characters.

Footsteps suddenly sounded behind her. She didn’t hear them. A voice behind her said urgently: “Why did you suddenly run here…” The voice stopped abruptly, and she paid no attention. The sound entered her ears but didn’t reach her heart. She stared at that cover, slowly grasped it, quickly flipped through it, as if wanting more understanding, but still couldn’t take it in. In her heart she knew this was how things were – no matter how detailed she looked, it would be the same. The most shocking news needs only those few characters to be enough.

A hand reached over and pressed down on the edict. She yielded, casually tossing aside this volume, then forcefully threw back his bedding and pillow. Another edict was turned up, falling with a “pat” at her feet, back side up.

A pair of boots quickly stepped on the edict, as if very much wanting to destroy the evidence, yet also seeming somewhat hesitant, feeling such action was meaningless. Jing Hengbo’s gaze fell on the boots. She said nothing, nor did she reach to snatch it. She raised her head to look at the face before her, saying softly: “Pei Shu.”

In Pei Shu’s dark eyes was a very strange expression. He reached out to slowly press her shoulder. “I’m here.”

Just these three short words made her heart warm. Something sharp thrust upward, and her eyes immediately reddened.

Did she appear so unseemly? So much so that even the reckless and violent Pei Shu would, at such a time, say such most appropriate and heartwarming words?

She turned her head away, sniffed, thought carefully and thoroughly, and when she turned back her expression had returned to normal. She even smiled slightly, extending her hand toward him, her fingertip pointing at the volume on the ground that he was stepping on.

Pei Shu stared at her – there were no traces of forced smiles on Jing Hengbo’s face. She could be considered calm. The slight redness in her eyes from earlier had disappeared. At this moment her smile was even still charming, like crabapple flowers newly washed by rain in spring light.

He suddenly felt that the current Jing Hengbo was sometimes even beyond his comprehension.

If before she was like a bright rainbow across the sky, visible at a glance, impossible to ignore, with seven brilliant colors, now she was like a precious pearl at the bottom of the deep sea – requiring adventurous seeking, obtained by chance encounter, suddenly discovered upon looking back, with dazzling mysterious radiance.

The more mysterious, the more beautiful.

Her palm was spread open, pure white palm center, in a waiting posture. No longer like before with loud shouting and clever plundering, she was a queen waiting with a smile for prey and tribute.

Pei Shu raised an eyebrow. With a flick of his toe, the second edict flew up into Jing Hengbo’s palm.

“Edict to Depose the Heishui Queen and Command Her Death.”

…

A moment of silence.

For an instant, Jing Hengbo still didn’t dare believe her own eyes, but after another moment, it seemed a flame “whooshed” and flashed in her heart.

That flash burned in her eyes, like wildfire consuming the lush vegetation across mountain plains.

Pei Shu kept staring at her intently. Those murderous words were like lightning and long blades, striking into her sight, but what split open wasn’t shock – or perhaps the previous edict had been enough to shock her. Her current expression was burning yet desolate, like walking on the other shore covered in green grass, turning around to see her homeland behind her gradually vanishing under the scorching sun.

That kind of anger at being unable to retain and not being informed.

“These edicts…” Pei Shu paused, then said, “are real.”

They came from the Imperial Capital, with seals and marks that were completely genuine. Just yesterday, the State Preceptor had ascended the throne, and on the day of his ascension, established the Mingcheng Queen as empress, simultaneously issuing orders to soon suppress the Daogui who dared defy court commands.

She would receive this news very soon. His concealment was already meaningless, so he hurried back.

“I know they’re real.” Jing Hengbo said woodenly. She had also been a queen and naturally knew what edicts looked like, and knew that such edicts could only come from the Quiet Court, knew that such edicts could only be personally ordered by Gong Yin, drafted by scribes with official seals, and personally arranged and sent out by the two close ministers Meng Hu and Yu Chun. Earlier when she was expelled from the Imperial Capital, the edict she received naming her Queen of Heishui was of this same format.

Then she raised her hand and lightly, skillfully tossed the edict into the fire basin.

The snow-white, gold-edged edict quickly curled into a ball in the fire basin, leaving a cluster of dark gray ash.

She watched those ashes, feeling as if her heart was also curling into a ball in such burning, with so many questions, so many concerns, so much turmoil being roughly rolled up, folded, and roasted, standing stiffly, making rustling sounds in the wind.

“Pei Shu, order the assembly of the three armies.”

The woman didn’t turn around. Her usually languid voice was hard.

“Already assembled.” The young commander behind her slowly said, “The Horizontal Halberd Cavalry has already set out to the Daogui border. The newly trained scout teams have sent three routes outward to reconnoiter. I’ve chosen three routes south, one of which plans to go around the Zhan Yu tribe’s periphery through the Zhan Yu marshes all the way, advancing through the marshes. At fastest, in three days we can insert behind the Imperial Capital’s rear. For this I urgently requisitioned all the Heavenly Star treasure boats from Tianhui Valley. The titled colonel guarding Tianhui Valley said he couldn’t make such large-scale requisitions without your hand orders, so I locked him up. A titled colonel stationed at Heishui Lake said with my actions, he could no longer garrison the western line of Heishui Lake and wanted to fight me, so I broke one of his legs. There was also a guard who tried to send news to the Huangjin tribe – I killed him.” After speaking he smiled, showing a mouthful of gleaming white teeth.

Jing Hengbo remembered Zirui’s earlier words and let out a long sigh.

“It’s so good to have you.” she said sincerely.

Pei Shu laughed heartily. The young commander thought that soon he could fight back to the Imperial Capital and slap those bastards one by one, and felt life was just this satisfying.

The only unsatisfying thing was feeling Jing Hengbo was too calm. He had originally thought she would cry, would make a fuss, would hystericallly throw tantrums. Then he could wrestle with her, make her calm down, and lend his embrace for her to cry and rest in when she was tired of making trouble.

The profession of queen might make women more beautiful and confident, but also more tired and less free. The young commander rubbed his chin and ground his teeth, wondering whether he should simply not let her be queen anymore, seize the throne himself, and give her a position as queen consort?

Jing Hengbo had already turned around, rotating her temporary wheelchair herself, sweeping out of his bedchamber like a gust of wind.

All along the corridor, palace attendants and servants who saw her bowed respectfully yet with some surprise. The usually lazy and casual queen was today spinning her wheelchair urgently – what urgent matter had occurred?

A large group of ministers waited at the end of the corridor to welcome the queen for council, then heard a series of commands.

“From today, Daogui enters a state of war readiness.”

“Break up and integrate into the Horizontal Halberd Army the reorganized Shangyuan Army, intensify training, expand and form a cavalry unit. Send word to Feicui, requesting Yingbai’s swift return.”

“Send word to Yi Kingdom, requesting the Yi Kingdom’s great king’s assistance. No need to be too troublesome – that army that came to our aid recently looked quite good, just let them stay. If he’s willing to contribute more effort, I wouldn’t mind either.”

“Request the Grand Sage and Master Yélu to represent me as envoys to Ji Kingdom, to purchase a batch of llamas from Ji Kingdom’s new king Ji Qiong – the most ferocious kind, which can be exchanged for Heishui Lake products.”

“Open the secret treasury. From today, the Department of Revenue and Department of War must be responsible for all military provisions, grain, grass, and equipment. No matter what methods you use, no matter how much money you spend, you must ensure the army advances smoothly.”

“The division strategies for the Fifteen Gangs have all been decided. Notify them – speed up those already being implemented, immediately implement those not yet implemented. Within half a month, I want to see results, and they must be successful results.”

“All generals still in Shangyuan, please follow me to the main hall. Later, please have the young commander conduct sand table deductions to determine attack routes.”

…

The ministers and advisors stared dumbfounded as the queen continuously gave orders while quickly rolling into the hall, their minds completely unable to keep up with this pace – they had originally come to discuss preparations for the queen’s formal coronation ceremony.

How was it suddenly time for war again? And with such great commotion – the question was, did the current queen have enemies? Fight whom? Fight the already overwhelmed Fifteen Gangs?

Then everyone stared even more dumbfounded as they saw that Pei the Young Commander had somehow already changed into golden armor, sword at his waist, appearing at the other end of the corridor even more murderous than the murderously spirited queen, with military strides marching forward, leaving a row of straight large footprints on the newly lacquered deep red corridor.

When everyone saw him, they all felt somewhat uncomfortable – recently the young commander had been quite rebellious, and the civil officials present had all impeached him, only the queen had ignored it all. Now seeing him with hand on sword advancing with deadly momentum, everyone felt their hair stand on end, staring at his sword-pressing hand, speculating when he would draw his sword as he passed by whom, forgetting to ask why he had changed into battle armor.

Pei Shu didn’t draw his sword, didn’t even look, and when passing by their side, only snorted contemptuously through his nose.

“Hurry up and get to work, you old dried sticks!”

The hall doors crashed open with a thunderous sound. Inside the hall, the generals who had arrived early at Pei Shu’s command rose with a roar.

“Your Majesty!”

The sound shook the roof tiles, dust falling down in flakes. The civil officials saw the bright gleam of the military officers’ armor flashing in the deep hall. Suddenly they all felt panicked.

Seeing her royal power established, seeing her stir up wind and clouds, seeing her suddenly turn her fair hands, halberd pointing toward heaven!

“Your Majesty!” Chang Fang stood on tiptoe, stretching his old voice to shout, “If you’re going to war and buy sheep, you should at least tell this old minister – who exactly are we fighting?”

A moment of silence in the hall, then Jing Hengbo’s voice came out firmly.

When they heard this answer, all the civil officials stumbled in unison.

“The Imperial Capital!”

…

The wind carrying gunpowder smoke from Daogui couldn’t blow to the snowy mountain peaks.

By that wooden house halfway up the mountain, there were still endless green grass and brilliant mountain flowers. Nimble snow foxes ran through the green grass and blooming flowers, their forms as agile as snow arrows, yet never shooting beyond the small range of the azure lake before the wooden house.

Ice and snow condensed on the mountain peak occasionally fell on their black noses. They would raise their heads to look at that cold place, with what seemed like nostalgia in their eyes.

That had once been their homeland. Now that place was occupied by countless humans, constantly resounding with the fierce winds of swords, the screams of combat, and the wails of the dying.

Where there were humans, there was always endless suffering, slavery, and lack of freedom. In the snow foxes’ dark eyes lurked deep fear.

The sound that made them even more fearful suddenly rang out, but today it wasn’t that gentle call, but a burst of almost shrill laughter.

The snow foxes had never heard their mistress laugh so wildly, and scattered in alarm, hiding in the grass while still looking back fearfully.

“Bang.” The wooden house door was pushed open. Snow-white skirts floated out, then floated back in, blooming like brilliant flowers on the green grass.

“Hahaha he’s ascended the throne!”

The mistress of the wooden house, also mistress of the snowy mountains, clutched a letter tightly, exerting such force that veins bulged on the back of her hand.

Inside the wooden house was dead silence, as if no one shared her nearly hysterical joy.

The other people on the snowy mountain could not enter this paradise without being summoned.

Xu Pingran gripped the letter and read it three more times, then released her hand and the letter flew into the air and disappeared.

She suddenly spun around and had already thrown herself into the house, crashing heavily into that wooden bed that always had curtains drawn. The wooden bed creaked and swayed, wall plaster crashing down in pieces.

She paid no attention, lifting the curtains and crawling into the bed on her knees.

“Murong, I succeeded! I succeeded!” She grabbed the person inside, suppressing her voice to shout low, dark light flashing in her eyes. “He ascended the throne! He finally ascended the throne!”

The person on the bed made no sound.

“These two years he’s become increasingly disobedient, mysterious and secretive. I kept worrying he had other intentions. I’m not afraid of him having other intentions – I only feared he wouldn’t ascend the throne.”

She embraced his shoulders, gently caressing his face, her fingers slightly trembling as if unable to control her strength. From within the curtains came low “puff puff” sounds, as if something was being punctured.

“Haha, that curse from the Longying aristocratic family back then – now it’s about to be broken by their own people. How about that? How about that? The way of heaven cycles, bloodlines are unbroken. My founding empress lineage’s essence blood and unlimited ambition – how could we possibly be trapped to death by that arrogant and frivolous aristocratic family for generations?”

The “puff puff” sounds grew louder, the golden hooks on the curtains jingling and swaying.

“Why should the empress be a slave to your Longying family for a single day, then be enslaved for life? Why should this world still belong to your Long family when she seized this Great Wilderness realm by her own power? Why should she hand over these vast rivers and mountains? Just because your bloodline is noble, you take Longying as your name, you were once her masters? But there are no natural kings and nobles in this world – whose heart’s blood was not once equally red!”

“You forced her to be unable to pass the throne to her children, or her descendants would be cut off – so I will take the throne from your Longying family bloodline, making you break your own oath!”

“Murong! Murong!” She shook his shoulders forcefully. “After fourteen generations of long dormancy and waiting, I finally did it, I finally did it!”

She trembled violently, no longer showing her usual graceful and noble demeanor, until her hair ornaments shook loose and dark hair cascaded from her shoulders, entangling with a strand of white hair.

Like ebony illuminated by bright moonlight, solemn and cool in the quiet night.

She laughed with a rattling sound, raising her face. The wooden house roof had somehow developed cracks, leaking a ray of pale golden sunlight. Light spots traveled across her smooth face, illuminating the tears streaming down her cheeks.

These were tears of joy, and also tears of sorrow.

Joy that this painstaking scheming and waiting finally had results; sorrow for what price she had paid for these results.

Those years of youth melodious as delicate orioles, those carefree springs accompanying Kunlun, those moonlit sword dances among willows, those wild geese beyond clouds carrying messages. Those sixteen years of radiant youth, forever drifting in the swaying white mist of Kunlun Palace. Through the mist came the deep and shrewd eldest senior brother, the capable and efficient second senior brother, the third senior brother skilled in medicine, the honest and reliable fifth senior brother, the clever and talkative sixth senior brother, the silent and gloomy seventh senior brother, the lively and frivolous eighth senior brother… and him.

Years later, purple robes wandered the ends of the earth, also wandering in her longing and avoidance. This valley basin with four seasons like spring forever grew purple flowers.

Years later she could no longer remember clearly whether she loved the purple flowers or the purple him, could no longer remember which came first, or perhaps both were just love – love that couldn’t be obtained.

She only remembered that day when mist was thick, she held Murong’s hand and stood at the forest’s edge, watching the pit half-bury him. Murong wanted to go up and give him another sword thrust. The moment he stepped forward, she pulled his hand back.

“He’s definitely dead,” she said.

“If you don’t eliminate weeds by the roots, they’ll grow again in the spring wind,” Murong answered indifferently.

Her voice was even more indifferent. “Then you might as well kill me first, then kill yourself.” She smiled mockingly. “Forgot? The young sect leader of Nine Heavens Gate is also the youngest disciple of my Kunlun Palace.”

Murong laughed softly and walked away holding her hand.

“No,” he strode away, gazing at the endless sky, the snowy peaks white at their summits.

“Kunlun Palace, from now on, no longer exists.”

Kunlun Palace no longer existed, her love withered from then on.

She turned and left without looking back, only singing that fox song over and over.

“The big fox fell ill, the second fox looked, the third fox bought medicine, the fourth fox brewed, the fifth fox died, the sixth fox carried, the seventh fox dug a pit, the eighth fox buried, the ninth fox wept, the tenth fox asked why do you cry? The ninth fox said the fifth went away never to return…”

“I won’t ask you why you cry.” Murong’s voice drifted from outside the forest. “There’s nothing worth crying about either. Rather than saying Kunlun Palace was destroyed by my infiltration and your internal cooperation, it’s better to say it was destroyed by their own power struggles. If it weren’t for eldest senior brother being jealous of fourth brother, wanting to kill him and fifth brother, seize the Moon Blood and Bodhi Heart to achieve divine martial arts, and seize the palace master’s position, where would we have had the opportunity to take advantage?”

She didn’t answer, only hummed the song lowly – if he could understand, he would eventually understand.

What she did, she didn’t plan to hide. She bore the heavy responsibility of bloodline, the resentment and expectations of fourteen generations of royalty, lurking in her blood, never to be freed in this lifetime.

In this life, she would not be his person. Then let them cut each other cleanly – under the sword of wisdom, see ten thousand lengths of blood, such ambition.

That year, in that place, the purple flowers dyed with blood bloomed so beautifully. She picked one and brought it back to the snowy mountains. From then on, in the halfway mountain basin, only that one kind of flower bloomed.

Like her life – doing only one thing, loving only one person. Even though it was a path of opposite directions, she left her soul within it, her person moving forward.

“Murong, Murong…” She lay against his chest, murmuring low. This was the tenderness she hadn’t given him for many years. “I can finally go down the mountain, I can finally be myself for once. Right and wrong, success and failure – even if only for one day, the curse from back then can be broken in this generation… Afterward, afterward there will be no more curses…”

She didn’t know what she had bumped into – from within the curtains came a series of empty wooden “bang bang” sounds.

She seemed to finally gradually calm down, slowly backing out from the curtains.

The tear tracks on her face had dried. The skin under her eyes was tight from crying. She slowly arranged her hair, her posture serene and dignified, like carved beautiful jade.

Having human appearance, lacking human heart.

“Originally worried that the sect master’s six-year seclusion period was approaching, still troubled about excuses, troubled about how to deal with that boy doing his training. Now,” she slowly smiled, “you should continue cultivating slowly. This snowy mountain is yours, this world is mine.”

The curtains hung low. The air carried a faint putrid smell.

She turned, pushed the door, beckoned with one hand. A snow crane soared into the sky, tracing graceful arcs across the azure sky.

Clear crane calls rang out. White snow fell among the mountains. Countless white figures streamed straight down.

She raised her head, sleeves fluttering. Her snow-white, wide skirts spread far across the green grass in sinuous curves.

The figures fell like an avalanche, covering the entire valley. This was the army of Deep Snow death warriors she had spent decades of painstaking effort cultivating for herself.

Not seeking success, only seeking to break the oath. Not seeking a hundred years on the throne, only seeking freedom in the next life.

She believed she could do it.

“Bring one from that family,” she said. “Down the mountain.”

…

At the moment when the snow-colored figures were streaming down the mountain path, Murong Zhen was gasping a hundred li away from the snowy mountains.

He looked quite bedraggled now. Of the twenty-odd followers originally beside him, only five or six remained, and these five or six were all wounded, their snow-white garments unrecognizable in their original color. The clothes of the snowy mountains were specially made – with just a little treatment with medicinal water, they could maintain cleanliness and whiteness to preserve the almost sacred image of the snowy mountains. For them to wear their clothes this dirty meant they had never had respite, not even a moment to stop and treat their garments.

Murong Zhen looked slightly better, but this “slightly better” was actually just maintaining dignity by putting on a fat face when thin – the consequence of keeping external wounds away by taking internal injuries. Now with every step he took, his internal organs felt burned by fire.

Murong Zhen looked back at the empty marshes, and a curse word he’d never uttered in his life almost escaped his lips.

He’d really never seen such a person!

He’d really never thought there could be such a person in the world!

He was certain Gong Yin had pulled out the needles – even if he hadn’t pulled them out, they would definitely be shattered needles. Either way this was severe injury, yet this person could still lead them wandering thousands of li, constantly moving and fighting in these Great Wilderness marshes.

Gong Yin had accomplices too. These accomplices didn’t know when they’d been contacted or when they’d appear. In this pursuit, at first he thought he was hunting Gong Yin, but now, looking at the dwindling people beside him, he finally began to suspect – who exactly was hunting whom?

Three days ago, he had suffered a life-threatening attack. If the other side had been slightly more ruthless, with slightly more people, perhaps he would have been completely annihilated. Yet ultimately he escaped with just a few people, which made him both grateful and puzzled – could it really be such a coincidence?

Behind him came heavy gasping sounds. He turned back to look at his subordinates’ scarred faces and their pleading eyes.

Beyond his subordinates’ shoulders, at the limit of vision, the snowy mountains’ white peaks were visible.

Looking back again, at the horizon’s end, a mysterious snow mist seemed to be rising again. Gong Yin was not far away.

Looking at these snowy mountains, looking at this direction, looking at that elusive snow mist, his eyes narrowed like needles.

Gong Yin seemed to want to drive him back to the snowy mountains…

What, wanting to reclaim what he’d lost on the snowy mountain?

At least Xu Pingran was still on the mountain. That woman had always only taken, never yielded.

Want to go seek death?

When two tigers are about to fight, why not provide the venue?

He smiled coldly and turned around.

“Return to the mountain!”