Pu Zhu suppressed the grief that welled up within her like an endless tide, hesitated at length, and finally decided to temporarily keep the news to herself, waiting until Li Xuandu returned before telling him.

She understood the consequences of this decision.

It was entirely possible that by the time Li Xuandu returned, Jiang Shi would already be gone. He would never have the chance to see his grandmother one last time.

She knew the depth of his feeling for Jiang Shi, yet she had decided this nonetheless.

To say nothing of the fact that even if she sent someone to notify him immediately, he might not be able to free himself and return. Even if he truly could return — even if he could make it back in time to see Jiang Shi one last time — that would not be the outcome Jiang Shi wished to see, nor was it the purpose for which the Supervisor of the Western Garden had transmitted this message.

Since Jiang Shi had gone to such lengths to send him out beyond the pass, she would not wish him to again find himself in danger on her account — not even now, when her own life was drawing to its end.

Pu Zhu believed that Grand Empress Dowager’s thoughts must be exactly the same as her own.

She wept silently for a long while, then at last wiped away her tears, stepped outside, and stood in the courtyard.

May that elderly woman, ten thousand li away, rest at ease. The grandson she so dearly missed — Li Xuandu — though still hacking through thorns and trudging forward with great difficulty, would surely, in this lifetime as in the last, hold up the sky and move the seas, attain success through many trials, and in the end prove worthy of his name as the Jade Unicorn. He would not fail the deep and tender care she had shown him.

Pu Zhu pressed her palms together toward the bright moon and bowed in silent, fervent prayer within her heart.

That sorrowful and heavy night passed.

Li Xuandu had not yet returned. Fearing that if this ill news spread, hearts would waver and unrest would follow, she told no one else — only passing word to Ye Xiao, asking him to quietly prepare contingency measures. No one else was informed.

In the days that followed, she kept anxious watch for news from Li Xuandu in the north, longing for his early and safe return, while at the same time keeping close watch on movements to the east. She dispatched people to notify the beacon stations along the route to increase their patrols, and to relay any news arriving from the court within the pass to her at the fastest possible speed.

Judging by the tone of the Supervisor of the Western Garden’s letter, the elderly woman’s time must be drawing very near. Now, almost two months had passed since that letter was written — perhaps she was already gone. And the moment she departed, Pu Zhu was certain that Li Chengyu’s side would respond without a moment’s delay.

More than ten days passed. The direction of Yumen Gate to the east remained temporarily quiet with nothing unusual. From the north, there finally came the news Pu Zhu had been so anxiously awaiting.

Li Xuandu had at last led his forces across the snow mountains and was on his way to reach the place where his maternal uncle was trapped.

This was good news in itself, bringing a glimmer of brightness to the gloom of recent days. But before she could even draw a relieved breath, a new piece of bad news arrived in its wake.

This bad news did not come from the east. The court side remained quiet.

The disturbance came from the north.

Scouts sent out had gathered intelligence: the various nations of the northern route and the forces of the Dongdi vassal states had assembled a combined army, setting out from Cheshi, and were now moving in this direction. The estimated target was an attack on Shuang City.

This was evidently a contingency plan left by the King of Kunling.

If he could not detain Li Xuandu at the front, he would use these northern-route nations as a vanguard to strike Shuang City. Should Shuang City be endangered, it would not only shake the morale of Li Xuandu’s forces, but if Shuang City were taken — the Protectorate headquarters toppled — that too was the King of Kunling’s desire. It would cut off Li Xuandu’s retreat, and he would reclaim the Western Regions territory that had been lost to Huhu, thereby raising his prestige among the various tribal kings of the Dongdi.

Pu Zhu immediately summoned Ye Xiao, Zhang Zhuo, and the other garrison commanders for a council to discuss countermeasures.

Though the situation had arisen suddenly and the atmosphere grew abruptly tense, no one panicked.

The Great Commander Huhu was dead, but in the neighboring Dongdi and across the vast northern route territory, the nations that had submitted to the Dongdi had not yet been fully pacified. The reason Han Rongchang had not yet returned was that he was still bogged down in the northern route. With Li Xuandu away and having taken a portion of the forces with him, everyone had already prepared for the possibility of various unexpected attacks before his return.

A brief council was held that same day. They dispatched more scouts to continue gathering intelligence on the enemy, while also sharpening their weapons and halting commercial activity within the city. Nearby civilians were moved inside the walls. Messengers were sent to notify the King of Baole, and preparations for battle began.

More intelligence arrived in rapid succession.

According to the scouts’ reports, the combined army numbered approximately twenty to thirty thousand, and was still ten or more days away from the Baole kingdom.

With such a large number, far exceeding the forces the Protectorate currently had at its disposal, a frontal battle would likely result in heavy casualties.

Outnumbered, the primary strategy was to hold steady in the capital of Baole — Yan City — and Shuang City, then wait for an opportunity to counterattack.

This strategy met with unanimous agreement and was quickly adopted without any dissent.

However, regarding the specific tactics for defending the cities, a dispute soon arose.

The Protectorate’s forces were already inferior to the enemy, and they would need to divide them between two fronts — one to protect Yan City, one to hold Shuang City. The situation was dire.

As everyone offered their opinions, Shuang Shi, who had heard the news and hurried over, put forward a suggestion: use the terrain to divert water and flood the route.

For the northern-route combined army to reach Yan City and Shuang City, they could not avoid passing through a place called Yingsa, located to the north of both cities, more than a hundred li away. It was a low-lying valley. A river ran nearby, its bed higher than the land. As long as the dam were breached and a channel dug to redirect the water — now at spring flood — the overflowing river would rush down and inundate the valley, blocking the enemy’s path without any effort at all. They could not possibly obtain enough boats; if they wanted to continue advancing, they would have to either jump in and swim one by one, or take a long detour. At that point, the defenders, rested and waiting, could intercept them halfway and were certain to defeat the combined army.

If Shuang Shi’s suggestion were feasible, it would be the ideal strategy above all others.

That same day, Ye Xiao and Zhang Zhuo immediately led men to the location Shuang Shi had described to assess the terrain.

The surrounding area was all wilderness, so even if water were diverted, it would have little impact on the population. But when they attempted to breach the dam, they ran into a problem.

The Yingsa area was low-lying and received little sunlight. The winters were long and extremely cold, and the riverbanks were frozen layer upon layer, hard as iron. To dig a channel long enough to divert water before the enemy arrived presented enormous difficulties. They tried burning firewood to thaw the frozen soil. Testing it, this did show some effect, but the speed was still far from satisfactory.

Zhang Zhuo then proposed: if fire oil could be poured over it, progress would be far more efficient.

But the Baole area produced no fire oil. Near the Pishan kingdom on the southern route, there was a field of fire oil — but the road was far too long; a round trip would take at least half a month. Even if enough fire oil could be obtained in time, it would be too late.

The plan to flood the path by redirecting water had suddenly become as useless as a fish bone stuck in the throat — too good to abandon entirely, yet if they continued, they feared the combined army would arrive before the channel was complete.

Just as Pu Zhu and Ye Xiao were in the midst of deliberating, Weidichi Shengde came rushing in with Li Tanfang, both in haste, saying that she knew of another place that also produced fire oil.

Li Tanfang had not yet fully recovered from her illness. Pu Zhu asked someone to bring her a seat. She politely declined, then explained: on the day she and her attendant had fled to this place, they had stumbled into a stretch of wilderness where a spring bubbled with black fire oil. At the time, it was specifically to avoid that place that they had gone the wrong way, wandered in circles, and ended up going farther and farther until they reached the ghost kingdom. Her attendant had since followed Li Xuandu and was no longer here, but she still remembered the approximate location of that place. As long as they did not take a wrong turn, traveling day and night at full speed, they should be able to bring the fire oil back before the combined army arrived.

She was willing to lead the way.

“Wang Fei, Deputy Protector Ye — I dare not guarantee that I will certainly be able to bring the fire oil back before the enemy army arrives. So after I leave, as a precaution, whatever other countermeasures you need to arrange — please still arrange them. But I can swear before Heaven that I will do my utmost to guide them there. If by good fortune I am able to accomplish this, it will also count as my own small contribution. Please grant me permission!”

Her voice was not loud, but her tone was resolute.

The council chamber fell quiet. Everyone looked at her; she looked at Pu Zhu.

“Wang Fei, I know you are concerned about my health, but I truly am all right. Please allow me to do something within my ability — only then can my heart be at ease.”

She held Pu Zhu’s gaze and spoke, word by word.

Pu Zhu looked at her for a moment and knew she could not stop her.

Nor should she stop her.

She truly wished to contribute her strength.

This much, Pu Zhu could see plainly in her eyes.

“Very well. I entrust this matter to you. Take care on the road.”

Pu Zhu relented and instructed Ye Xiao to immediately help her select troops to accompany her on the journey.

Li Tanfang did not delay a single moment. Once the forces were prepared, led by Weidichi Shengde, she set off with them in great haste.

After that group departed, Pu Zhu and Ye Xiao continued to deliberate on contingency plans, finally settling on two courses of action.

If Li Tanfang could, as she said, bring back the needed fire oil in time — all the better: they would proceed with the original plan.

If she was delayed and the channel remained incomplete when the time came, they would proactively abandon Shuang City, relocate all its residents to Yan City, concentrate their forces to defend Yan City, and leave part of their forces in the fortresses here, using the terrain to hold firm to the last.

Once the plan was decided, they acted immediately. They relocated the residents, mobilized troops, and the work at Yingsa continued its difficult progress. Pu Zhu was busy from morning to night, unable to sleep through the night — after only seven or eight days, she had already lost a noticeable amount of weight.

A’Ju and Luo Bao looked on with aching hearts but were helpless. Each day, they could only hope that Li Tanfang would find the needed fire oil soon and return quickly, so that the burden on Wang Fei’s shoulders might be lightened somewhat.

This was not only A’Ju and Luo Bao’s wish — it was the shared wish of Pu Zhu, Ye Xiao, and all the others.

After many agonizing days of waiting, on the morning of the eighth day, Pu Zhu received news.

Li Tanfang had done it!

Traveling day and night, relying on her astonishing memory, she had truly found the fire oil and successfully brought it back. The fire oil that had been retrieved was now being transported directly to Yingsa.

With the aid of the fire oil to accelerate combustion, the frozen soil melted smoothly. The construction work proceeded well. Everything was progressing tightly and in an orderly fashion, exactly as planned — they had only to wait for the northern-route combined army to arrive.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

But there was also one piece of bad news.

Li Tanfang’s body had not yet fully recovered. These past days of travel by night and day, combined with the strain of finding the route — the exhaustion of mind and body — had finally taken their toll. On the way back, she had collapsed and was unable to continue. She had fallen ill again.

This time, her condition was more serious than before. The fever had returned, and she had been in a daze throughout the journey home.

Pu Zhu went out of the city in person to meet her and bring her in.

As they entered the city, word spread among the residents that it was she who, despite her illness, had led the team to find the urgently needed fire oil in time, saving them from having to relocate to Yan City to take shelter. Every single one of them was filled with gratitude, cheering loudly and following the carriage for a long while, unwilling to leave.

Li Tanfang lay in the carriage, her face drained of color. She had had her eyes closed, but was gradually roused by the cheering sounds from outside.

She slowly opened her eyes. When she understood that those cheers were meant for her, she looked toward Pu Zhu, who sat beside her, and her expression showed unease.

She struggled to sit up, as though wishing to explain: “Wang Fei…”

“You are gravely ill — lie down, don’t move. The residents’ gratitude toward you is right and proper. You protected their homes. In fact, it is not only they — I too am deeply grateful to you.”

“If this battle is won, it will be largely due to your achievement.”

Pu Zhu gently pressed her back down, and smiled as she spoke.