Crossing the three-thousand-foot chasm, freezing a great road before the city gates.

The soldiers on the city walls forgot even to shoot arrows.

Within a few days, they had been shocked time and again. After the Black Water Queen’s startling teleportation had stunned the city head, they now witnessed someone else who could freeze a long river with a single step.

The Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry watched their lord with the most reverent gazes, knowing that following the Queen, they too would capture the city head at the fastest speed, achieving a battle that would go down in Dragon Cavalry war history.

Gong Yin made one round trip, freezing out an ice path across the moat.

Another round trip made the ice path more solid.

On the third trip, the ice path became a black bridge, with black river water surging in waves on all sides, those underwater blades becoming the bones of the ice bridge.

During the second trip, the people on the city walls came to their senses and shot arrows in succession. Gong Yin’s protective energy burst forth, freezing the arrows mid-air so they fell with tinkling sounds as they crystallized into ice and snow.

Looking down from the city walls, there was a black ice bridge below, with a wide-sleeved man walking calmly in the middle, his protective energy like a star cluster above, floating and shining brilliantly. Countless arrows fell like rain, meeting the star cluster and being plated with silver-white brilliance, falling like broken-winged butterflies across the sky.

This scene was like poetry, like painting, like a deity displaying divine splendor.

Never before had battlefield carnage looked so picturesque.

In the dazzling confusion, the ice bridge was completed.

Gong Yin stopped, slightly lowering his eyes. No one noticed his face was faintly pale.

Even with his unparalleled snow-stepping skills, converting this three-zhang moat into an ice bridge had consumed an incalculable amount of true force.

He didn’t have much true force remaining. If he didn’t enter the city soon, there would be no more opportunities.

The upcoming battle still needed someone to command it.

He couldn’t be in multiple places at once, and the sky had already darkened.

Behind him, the Dragon Cavalry crossed the ice bridge over the moat and began scaling the city.

The winter night air was bone-chillingly cold. Officers behind him wanted to drape a cloak over him, but remembering the oath he had sworn, he waved them away.

For even the slightest danger to Hengbo, even if it was just an empty oath, he dared not test it.

He looked up at the high city walls, seeming to smell the gunpowder smoke and fierce fire scents drifting from within the city.

Hengbo, how are you?

…

“Your Majesty! The Kanglong army seems about to set fires!”

“I know.”

“Your Majesty…”

“All of you, surrender.”

“Your Majesty!”

She waved her hand, wearily exhaling a long breath, looking toward the completely darkened sky.

Tonight there was no moon or stars—the sky was dark without any color.

Was this so the firelight that would come later would shine even more brilliantly?

But no matter how brilliant the colors, no matter how bright the beacon, if someone insisted on not seeing it, nothing would matter.

Three days and nights of waiting had transformed her heart from burning turmoil to calm to this moment’s ice-cold despair.

To utter despair.

Calculating the time, light cavalry advancing rapidly should have arrived long ago.

She no longer had any expectations.

Perhaps she had overthought it. Those disguises, that companionship, that protection—perhaps they were just illusions, or perhaps just his other strategic arrangements, unrelated to love, unrelated to affection, unrelated to her.

Though she didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it, three days of empty waiting told her it seemed to be exactly so.

It didn’t matter. All she wanted was an answer. This was also an answer.

With this answer, she could sever all connections to the past.

If previously she had still harbored grand ambitions, wanting to claim kingship and emperorship, to fight her way back to Dige, when she confirmed she had always been under Gong Yin’s control, always monitored and toyed with by him, all her beliefs had already collapsed.

What was the point of being a clown, living in someone else’s arranged game? When she celebrated each of her achievements, perhaps the person controlling everything was coldly mocking her from the sidelines.

The path walked under someone else’s arrangements—where would it ultimately lead? It definitely wouldn’t be where she wanted to go.

She would rather abandon everything than be inexplicably manipulated by others.

Getting this answer, she could let everyone disperse. The soldiers would go to Cheng Gumo as compensation for indirectly causing his son’s death, while foundations, grand plans, queenship, imperial ambitions… could all go to hell.

She would wait until the very last moment, until everyone thought she was dead, then leave this place forever.

She really missed her three dead comrades…

The sky above was so heavy, she felt tired.

Raising her eyes, she could faintly see sparks at the city gates ahead.

Gong Yin.

You actually won’t come!

…

Before the city gates, the first round of attacks had been repelled, and the second round was underway.

In the firelight, Gong Yin’s face was pale as snow as he stood at the front lines without retreating a single step. In his daze, he remembered Yuzhao Palace years ago—there had also been a battle where he had stood wounded on the city walls without retreating.

At that time he had been struggling for his own power and position; now he was persisting for her life.

Hengbo, how are you?

…

“Hiss.” A red trail streaked across the sky, tearing a bloody wound in the black firmament.

The fire arrow landed on the half-collapsed great hall, immediately igniting the wooden structures.

More fire arrows followed like meteors crossing the sky, rushing toward the great hall. The fire spread from small to large, gradually consuming the broken walls and ruins.

The firelight illuminated the soldiers’ bewildered and frightened faces.

Outside, someone was shouting for the soldiers to surrender, promising not to kill those who laid down their weapons. Though they had already received the Queen’s orders, the soldiers still hesitated. As for the other officers, they all remained below the great hall—not one had left.

The Seven Kills were unusually quiet, sitting on the ground playing finger-guessing games, seemingly completely unconcerned about the battle’s outcome. Their game seemed to be about how long Jing Hengbo would sit up there and who would be first to drag her down. The loser wouldn’t be allowed to wipe after defecating for three days.

Apart from his stunning arrow that intoxicated the city head, Ying Bai didn’t seem like a commanding general the rest of the time, appearing to have no interest in commanding this army. He just propped up his legs, drank wine, and like Jing Hengbo, gazed into the distance.

The same phrase circled in his heart.

Why haven’t you come yet?

…

The second round of siege warfare.

Soldiers were continuously sent up to the city walls. Gong Yin could almost confirm that a considerable portion of the inner city’s forces had been drawn to the city gates.

But he couldn’t be certain whether the pressure on Jing Hengbo had completely disappeared.

Just as he was about to order another round of attacks, he suddenly felt the sky brighten. Looking up, he saw fire lighting up half the sky in the distance.

The last trace of color drained from his cheeks, and his body swayed. Officers beside him quickly steadied him.

He stared fixedly in that direction, even his lips turning white.

Fire attack!

That location—no need to guess—it was definitely Chentie’s royal palace!

The worst thing had happened. They were indeed using fire to force her out!

Her teleportation could normally fear no attack, but in her despair and rage, would she self-destruct?

The torches beside him blazed with fierce heat, yet he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

No longer caring about the army before the city, he suddenly leaped up.

With his true energy nearly exhausted, forcing his way through the city gates offered little chance of success, not to mention whether there would be further complications after abandoning his army. But he could no longer care about any disadvantages.

She was in the city, she was in the fire!

With a long howl, his figure shot up like a reverse meteor, bringing up billowing snow energy as he charged straight for the city head.

The people on the city walls were prepared, great bows and powerful crossbows creaking continuously as arrows covered him like a fierce curtain.

To reach the three-zhang city wall in one breath while resisting the first wave of arrows required extremely profound and sustained true energy that could flow endlessly.

But he had traveled far without rest, constantly fighting enemies, and had frozen ice into a bridge before the city gates.

Just three feet from the city head—

His heart suddenly ached.

As his true energy circulated, it encountered that needle in his heart and paused slightly.

In an instant his true energy leaked, his form was blocked, and his protective energy showed a gap. A black arrow tip was already spinning toward his forehead!

He could save himself, but would certainly fall from the city.

After falling, another attempt would be absolutely impossible.

Gritting his teeth against falling, he forcibly twisted his body mid-air, trying to avoid vital areas and trade an arrow wound for getting onto the city.

Suddenly there was a wind sound beneath his feet, and a pair of hands gently supported his boot soles, sending him upward.

The moment those hands appeared, a familiar voice transmitted with a low laugh, “Go, save her—I’ll handle the army!”

A surge of true force shot straight up, sending him to the clouds.

He gave a clear whistle.

The soldiers on the city head stopped their bows and arrows, watching a figure rocket up from below the city like a fire arrow, crossing the city walls, crossing the battlements, crossing over their heads. They raised their faces, their gazes following that smoke-like trajectory, their necks turning a full three hundred sixty degrees as they watched that fairy-like, cloud-like shadow rush into the clouds, cross the city head, and fall into the darkness and firelight within the city.

They were too shocked to make a sound.

After quite a while, someone finally came to their senses and shouted, “Someone flew over the city head!”

Before the city walls, another wide-robed, big-sleeved figure floated down, landing on the horse Gong Yin had previously ridden in front of the Dragon Cavalry.

Facing the surprised and questioning gazes of the Dragon Cavalry, he opened his palm, revealing Gong Yin’s pouch.

“The State Preceptor has ordered,” he said, “from now on, you follow my command.”

Gong Yin’s pouch bore his unique marking. The generals bowed and awaited orders.

Yélu Qi put away the pouch, smiled slightly, then furrowed his brow, gazing at the red glow on the horizon.

He had arrived at the city gates one step ahead but also couldn’t enter the city immediately. He had originally planned to wait for Gong Yin to open the gates and take advantage, but who knew he would see the great fire within the city.

This was not the time for romantic rivalry and jealousy.

Of course, he would prefer Gong Yin to send him into the city, but unfortunately he clearly understood that Jing Hengbo wasn’t waiting for him.

Though he also felt Jing Hengbo’s teleportation ability meant she didn’t fear fire attacks, he also feared Jing Hengbo might do something foolish.

He had selfish motives and was unwilling to help his romantic rival, but compared to Jing Hengbo’s safety, nothing else mattered.

Even a one-in-ten-thousand chance of danger couldn’t be ignored.

Yélu Qi touched his nose, thinking this debt would definitely have to be collected with interest later.

Of course, if he made such a great sacrifice and Gong Yin still couldn’t save Jing Hengbo, Gong Yin shouldn’t bother coming back to reclaim his army.

He wondered where the Yansha army had gone. This time he had come planning to contact them to rescue Jing Hengbo together, but when his messengers found the Yansha army’s temporary camp, they discovered it was already empty.

Yansha was proud and still maintained nomadic customs, wandering across Dahuang lands from time to time. This time seemed very unlucky.

He had no choice but to lead his subordinates here, stopping before this royal city’s walls.

Great fires reached the sky at the horizon’s end.

His gaze turned slightly cold. Turning his head, he said, “Attack the city!”

…

Not far from Chentie’s royal city, in the outskirts, another team was also hurrying forward.

At the front were fierce generals, a silent young girl, and a small animal with a fluffy tail leaping on the horse’s head. The closer to the royal city, the more frantically it leaped, as if sensing its master’s great danger.

…

The great fire reached the sky.

Tongues of flame spiraled upward, licking at bricks, stones, beams, pillars, curtains, and vessels… The nearest flames were only a few zhang from Jing Hengbo.

Under Jing Hengbo’s strict orders, the soldiers had already abandoned resistance, walking away filled with frustration and unwillingness, frequently looking back.

Jing Hengbo was driving away those companions who refused to leave.

“Go on.” Facing everyone’s worried gazes, she forced a relaxed smile. “I’m just thinking about things. Now I’ve figured them out. What are you doing staying here? Soon everyone will burn to death.”

“No.” Tie Xinze said. “You came for me. If you’re lost in Chentie, I might as well die with you.”

“Who said I came for you? I had other plans, but there’s no need to discuss them now.” Jing Hengbo shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I won’t commit suicide. Moreover, I’m unwilling to cause others’ harm because of me, so you must leave. Once you leave, I’ll leave. If you don’t leave, then we’ll all burn to death together.”

Everyone stared into her eyes. After a long while, the Seven Kills chattered, “I think Bobo won’t commit suicide.”

“She has teleportation.”

“Oh my, I don’t want to get my beautiful hair burned off.”

“Then let’s go.”

Yi Qi still refused to leave and was dragged away by his silly brothers, shouting as he went, “Bobo, you mustn’t do anything foolish!”

Jing Hengbo waved, then knocked out Zirui with a backhand and handed her to Tie Xinze. “You must know the way well—take my lady-in-waiting!” Before he could refuse, she added, “I’m entrusting her to you. Will you dawdle and endanger her life?”

Tie Xinze had no choice but to grit his teeth, carry Zirui on his back, and pick his way downward while earnestly instructing, “No matter what, life is most important. You must leave in time…”

“I know, such a nag!” Jing Hengbo looked at Tian Qi and Ying Bai. Before she could speak, Tian Qi turned and left, saying, “I feel something’s not quite right. I need to go out and calm down first.” His figure flashed and disappeared.

Finally, she looked at Ying Bai.

“It’s not like that.” Ying Bai picked up his wine jug and stood up. “Don’t fall for someone’s trick.” He pointed at that pile of clothing. “Don’t you think these are very suspicious?”

She slightly curved her lips.

Of course they were suspicious.

These things obviously weren’t given to her by Gong Yin. If Gong Yin was determined to hide everything, how would he expose it before her?

If someone had deliberately collected them along the way, that would be too frightening. Could Gong Yin and her entire journey have been under others’ observation? If that person was really that capable, they would have acted long ago.

Besides, some things Gong Yin would never have left behind.

After three days and nights on the palace roof, once she calmed down from her激越情绪, she began thinking coolly, examining those clothes and discovering that many things actually didn’t match up.

Clothing could be replicated, scents could be confused. For instance, the red mud on the hem of the Xiang Kingdom eunuch’s robe—careful examination revealed it wasn’t the elixir furnace mud from that secret room. That Earth God mask, upon close inspection, was also different.

Even that Luoyang shovel, when carefully examined, was different—not as exquisite as the one Gong Yin had originally given her.

She thought this pile here was probably all fake.

So much time had passed—how could those scents still remain on clothing? This was recent work.

But the other party definitely understood her well, knowing her inner suspicions had reached their peak. They didn’t need originals—just similar items to provide hints, and she would automatically make the connections.

The other party absolutely couldn’t have been controlling Gong Yin’s transformations all along. She felt it was more likely post-facto deduction. The other party was probably also exceptional, synthesizing various clues to deduce most of Gong Yin’s transformation situations, using similar objects to evoke her confirmation, driving her to madness.

Being able to deduce accurately to this degree still represented a major problem. There must be some improprieties she couldn’t currently understand, but she didn’t want to think about it now.

The other party had underestimated her.

Fearing she wouldn’t go mad, they pulled this trick, not realizing she was already a madwoman.

A soul from another world, ignoring this era’s various constraints, she had her own thoughts and principles. She didn’t hesitate to ignite this great fire to dispel the fog before her eyes.

“Don’t be stubborn.” Ying Bai was rarely so serious, gazing into her eyes. “Come down with me first. He will come.”

“I will leave. No one is worth me committing suicide for.” Jing Hengbo’s heart was both cold and hot, not knowing if it was pain or sorrow. She just wanted to sing wildly and cry bitterly, yet seemed unable to vent. She reached out and grabbed Ying Bai’s wine jug, lifting her head to drain most of it. Ying Bai couldn’t rescue it in time and cried out repeatedly—whether lamenting the wine or fearing she’d get drunk was unclear.

As a wine addict, Ying Bai kept only the strongest liquor in his jug, which even the Seven Kills didn’t dare try easily. He stared at Jing Hengbo, thinking getting drunk might be good—he could just scoop her up and leave, saving trouble.

After half a jug of liquor, Jing Hengbo didn’t feel the burn, but her head spun. She closed her eyes, struggling to steady herself, not wanting Ying Bai to see she was already drunk.

Having eaten almost nothing for three days, she couldn’t withstand the strong alcohol’s assault.

“Go!” She waved. “If you want me to trust him, then go meet him and bring him before me—then I’ll believe.”

For the first time, Ying Bai showed hesitation.

He also knew the situation was urgent and wondered why Gong Yin hadn’t arrived yet, but he was certain Gong Yin must have encountered trouble.

He very much wanted to go meet Gong Yin.

“Go.” Jing Hengbo laughed loudly, her figure flashing as she leaped onto a vertical pillar ahead.

The great hall was half-burned and half-collapsed, already mostly destroyed. The roof was almost completely gone, with a few beams and pillars standing forlornly crooked among the broken walls and ruins. The fire was smaller at the heights, but flames still wound around those pillars, climbing up lingeringly.

“Ying Bai.” Standing on that pillar, Jing Hengbo looked down at Ying Bai who was staring up at her. “Two years ago, I came to Dahuang. At that time I hadn’t yet met Gong Yin. I was still the top courtesan at Fenglai Qi. Looking back now, that was truly the most carefree period of my life so far.”

She raised her chin, looking ahead. Below the ruined hall, the Kanglong army had stopped fighting and was looking up at their queen with bewildered gazes.

Only now did ordinary soldiers finally know that the “bandits” they had been ordered to eliminate after traveling far and capturing supply wagons within Chentie territory was actually their queen.

Kanglong soldiers knew about their commander’s grievances with the queen. Most had seen her and knew that last year’s palace coup in Dige had been orchestrated by Kanglong forces, using the entire camp’s mutiny and seven lives’ suicide in the square to push the queen’s banishment to its peak.

Though most soldiers had participated in that incident, they hadn’t witnessed the woman’s pale face in the square under that year’s heavy snow, so their emotional impact wasn’t strong. However, now, facing the ruined great hall with raging fires, and the red-robed woman above the ruins and flames, seeing her robes fluttering above the palace roof, her posture straight yet expression sorrowful, they suddenly felt desolate in their hearts.

They were iron troops, imperial forces, glorious and loyal armies born only to protect home and country. Now, however, for their commander’s personal grievances, they repeatedly pressed this blameless woman.

Those drawn blades, those battle cries—they had long lost any righteous support.

But Jing Hengbo wasn’t looking at them, not even at Ying Bai—only straight ahead.

“I once had countless grand ambitions, but now I find myself very boring. I suddenly remember when I first arrived, with one dance I won the chance to survive at Fenglai Qi. That was the most joyful dance I’d ever performed. After becoming queen, I never danced like that again. Now I want to leave, and before leaving, I want to dance joyfully once more.”

When I first arrived, I came joyfully, beginning my otherworldly life with a dance.

Finally, I want one more joyful dance to bid farewell to life’s vanity and illusion.

She raised her hand and cast off her red cloak, revealing a red modified long dress underneath—form-fitting, outlining her body’s curves.

Under the long dress were tight-fitting long pants—suitable attire for dancing.

A surge of alcohol rushed up, making her mood激越and brain dizzy, but her eyes grew ever brighter, brighter than the stars.

Ying Bai was continuously forced back by the burning flames, retreating while looking up at her, having no choice but to move farther and farther away.

Only she remained, standing atop the pillar, overlooking this majestic royal city and silent world.

Once at Fenglai Qi she had used a stick as a pole, moving the pleasure house with one dance. Now she used the ruined great hall as her stage, the main hall’s beams and pillars as her pole, and thousands of soldiers as her audience. Who could this dance move?

If the person she wanted to see it didn’t see it, then nothing would be meaningful.

Raising her hands, rising on her toes, she began to dance.

An instant of spinning.

In an instant, her deep red skirt spun open like flames, blazingly illuminating the night sky. Her extended arms possessed the most beautiful arcing posture in the human world, like a phoenix in nirvana raising its head at the horizon’s end.

The clamor and disturbance below gradually ceased. Everyone looked up, holding their breath, their gazes burning.

…

He raced wildly through Chentie’s streets.

Finding his horse too slow, he transformed himself into wind.

Throughout his life of quiet composure, mountain-like immobility, he had never run like this—like Kuafu, using his life to chase the sun.

…

She leaped and soared atop the palace pillar, carrying slightly drunken wildness, dancing out the most intense posture of her lifetime.

A split leap and great spin, her waist curling and turning with the fierce flames and winds of this world. Below her, the fire was blooming red lotus, and she was the crystalline dewdrop rolling in the lotus heart, stained with sunset’s brilliance, burning brightly in all beings’ sight.

The softness of a woman’s form, the absolute beauty of a woman’s figure, the most beautiful curves and flexibility honed through long training—achieving the brilliant radiance of a dance.

The leaping flames couldn’t match the madness in her spirit, the decadence in her allure. Her hair scattered in the intense dance, her red hair ribbon flying into the fire and turning to ash. In that instant, her black hair dyed the night with ink, and stars and moon retreated behind clouds to avoid the brilliant color.

…

The palace gates ahead were in sight. Though nearly exhausted, his speed didn’t decrease at all. The guarding soldiers only vaguely saw a flash of white light. Before they could call out in challenge, he had already stepped on their heads and passed over, snowflakes falling on their heads in that instant.

…

She suddenly spun, bending backward at an almost impossible angle like an inverted lotus, her hanging hair meeting the flames and disappearing by half with a hiss. Though the crowd cried out in alarm, she acted as if nothing had happened, dancing and leaping above the flames’ peak, as if wanting to burn this dance to ash, as if wanting to burn herself to ash in such wildly intense dancing.

Deep feelings were always wasted; the heart had already turned to ash.

…

He burst through the palace gates. After entering the palace, his speed actually increased because all the soldiers had surged toward the rear hall to watch that peerless dance in the fire. Even those ordered to remain at their posts were inattentive, all craning their necks to look toward the fire in that direction.

Everyone’s eyes showed regret for this beautiful thing of the world that was about to disappear forever before their eyes.

A heaven-shaking song would become eternal silence.

…

Flying, spinning, clinging, rising and falling in the graceful wind—she could already feel the fire’s heat. The flames that had been distant were now climbing up the beams and pillars. The pillars around her were also on fire, and the pillar beneath her feet no longer felt as solid and strong as before—it could break at any moment.

Her hair was silently turning to ash. It was very hot. She constantly regulated her Bright Moon Heart technique, protecting herself from being suffocated by smoke or roasted to death.

But the final moment had arrived. If she didn’t leave now, she would perish in the sea of fire.

Leaning forward and circling the pillar once, her red dress flew up like gorgeous tail feathers, passing over the fire sea’s red clouds.

This dance in fire.

This farewell dance in fire.

Crack, crack—faint sounds came from beneath her feet.

She looked up, her eyes suddenly contracting as she saw a figure approaching at an indescribable speed like lightning.

…

Gong Yin had reached the front of the main hall.

Before even approaching, he could feel heat waves hitting his face. Looking up, he saw her still dancing on the palace roof.

That dance was both strange and beautiful, each movement showcasing the ultimate beauty of a woman’s body’s flexibility and grace, the ultimate feminine allure—like a touch of brilliant red lips awakening all the world’s innocence and hidden desires with just a light hook, enchanting the human world.

Under this great fire’s backdrop, it generated a different kind of tragic beauty and poignancy that was heartbreaking.

But he had no mind to appreciate it, leaping toward the mass of dark heads. Someone had already seen his arrival and shouted, “Who comes! Shoot arrows!”

He heard but didn’t listen, stepping on the outermost ring of heads and flying high.

Arrows flew like rain, rushing from the fire toward him.

Several figures leaped out—Ying Bai, Tian Qi, and others—intercepting this endless arrow rain.

He didn’t even look, only toward that fire.

Hengbo, I’ve come.

Just wait and see me—

…

She widened her eyes, one arm still raised high, but forgot the next movement.

But the next instant her gaze dimmed.

The billowing smoke made it impossible to discern the newcomer’s face, but she could roughly make out his clothing. Dark-colored garments, wide sleeves, very low neckline exposing straight collarbones and even half his chest…

Yélu Qi.

Gong Yin would never dress like this.

Hope bursting after despair, then despair again after hope. This taste was the hardest to bear.

In this instant her heart was ashen as death, her steps faltered.

Crack—not far overhead, an angled section of beam suddenly broke and fell, blocking her path. As she tried to leap and dodge, another crack—the beam and pillar, already burned soft, split in two. The ground beneath her feet gave way.

Fierce flames pressed close, alcohol surged up, there was nothing to rely on beneath her feet, and her whole body was weak.

She fell amid the crowd’s alarmed cries.

Below her was the fire.

Cries rang out like a tsunami.

Suddenly a figure rushed through the high crowd, shot into the blazing fire, crashed into the collapsed beam, kicked aside the exploding pillar, and caught her in his arms.

Then.

Together, they fell into the fire.

※※※

(End of Volume)