The night was deep. Dongdan Ford, so clamorous earlier, had grown largely quiet. Apart from the soldiers on patrol, everyone had gone to sleep early — for tomorrow’s great battle was imminent, and only by preserving one’s strength could one fight at full capacity. But not everyone could settle into peaceful sleep.

In one tent, a single lamp burned like a small bean of light. In its dim, amber glow, a slender shadow was cast — slight and solitary, sitting quietly before the flame.

The tent flap was lifted gently, and a figure moved in without a sound. Taking in the person sitting alone before the lamp, a silent sigh escaped.

“Jiu Wei.” A soft call, footsteps deliberately making a gentle sound.

The figure before the lamp turned. For a moment the eyes seemed somewhat dazed as they looked at the one who had entered. Then, after a pause, that unfocused gaze kindled a small light: “Xiyun.”

“Can’t sleep?” Xiyun sat down beside him. She looked at that lean and pallid face — at those eyes so full of complexity and pain — and felt her heart clench. This was all their fault. This was all their sin. It was the sin and cause planted by their ancestors over three hundred years ago.

The corner of Jiu Wei’s lips moved, as though he wanted to smile, yet in the end could not manage it. His gaze, worn and weary with the weight of years, rested on Xiyun. “There is no use hiding it from you, and I could not hide it in any case. The moment I think of the situation before us, it is as though ten thousand armies clash inside my head — I cannot find peace of mind. After all… the circumstances at hand are so very tempting.”

Xiyun looked at him in quiet composure, her gaze gentle as moonlight and deep as the sea — capacious enough to hold all wrongs and all sins, to hold all causes and all consequences.

Meeting Xiyun’s gentle gaze, and holding it for a long while, Jiu Wei at last curved his lips into a faint smile — a smile of helplessness, of concession, of resigned acceptance: “After all, this is a grievance that has festered for hundreds of years. Xiyun — faced with the hatred of having one’s entire family and people annihilated, faced with centuries of injustice that could never be appealed, even the most calm and tolerant person cannot simply laugh it off. We of the Jiu Luozu… we of the Jiu Luozu are human too!” The final words were forced out with an inexpressible bitterness and grief — spoken softly, yet sinking into the deepest reaches of the heart with the weight of a thousand catties.

“Jiu Wei, I understand. Jiu Wei, I truly understand.”

Xiyun reached out and gently took hold of Jiu Wei’s hands. Those hands were trembling. Between the fingers, wisps and threads of pale blue spiritual energy coiled and spun with agitated intensity — as though binding the hands tightly, and yet as though straining to break free from those hands and burst howling outward. Jiu Wei… I truly do understand. I understand why… this is fury, this is pain, this is guilt… For those tens of thousands of innocent lives of an entire people, over three hundred years ago. For the injustice endured across these hundreds of years. For the hatred accumulated across hundreds of years, for the resentment of the countless wronged souls accumulated over generations… She understood. And it was precisely because she understood that she bore such a deep and heavy burden of guilt. She felt it as though it were her own.

“Xiyun…” Jiu Wei looked at those hands gripping his own. He looked at those clear, bright eyes before him — like luminous water. The heart that had been twisted into a knotted tangle suddenly began to loosen. The spiritual energy coiling between his fingers slowly dissipated, and at last lay quiet and still in Xiyun’s palms.

“If there is anyone in this world who can truly understand the suffering of the Jiu Luozu people, it could only be you. And only you.”

“Yes.” Xiyun lifted his hand. In the lamplight, both pairs of hands bore the same long, slender fingers, skin white as snow, pale blue veins visible beneath the surface. “Because we share the same blood.”

“So you truly knew.” Jiu Wei sighed.

“Of course I knew.” Xiyun smiled — a smile shot through with grief she could not hide. “Though the Jiu Luozu were annihilated and have been a forbidden name in the Dong Chao Empire for hundreds of years, our Feng Wang family genealogy records clearly and plainly: ‘Feng Wang, Feng Duying, husband of Jiu Luo Shan Jiuyao.’ We are the descendants of Feng Wang and of the Jiu Luozu.”

“Ha ha ha…” Jiu Wei suddenly burst out laughing — loudly, heedless of whether the laughter might disturb those deep in slumber. He tilted his head back and laughed. “Ha ha ha… Shi Di himself issued an Iron Decree: ‘Those of the Jiu Luozu shall be killed without mercy!’ And yet he could only watch helplessly as Feng Wang took a surviving member of the Jiu Luozu as her husband, powerless to stop it. Faced with our Feng Wang family, who carry Jiu Luozu blood in their veins, he could not issue a decree of annihilation. And every Dong Chao Emperor since, when presented with the genealogy scroll of our Feng Wang family, must have looked right past the Jiu Luo name as though it were invisible… Ha ha ha…”

Xiyun looked at the laughing Jiu Wei, and had no words of comfort.

“How laughable… Dong Shixiu… so even you had things you could not do, things you did not dare do! Ha ha… how laughable! And how pitiful! How sorrowful! Ha ha ha… and yet it cost the Jiu Luozu tens of thousands of innocent lives in exchange… let the blood of the Jiu Luozu dye our mountains red… let the wandering souls of the Jiu Luozu never find their way home! This was the fruit of your one moment of rage! And yet… in the end, what did you gain? Did you not in the end carry regret for the rest of your life and die with eyes open in anguish?! Ha ha ha… you pitiful Emperor… you wretched, hateful Emperor! Ha ha ha…”

Jiu Wei’s laughter was beyond all restraint now — he laughed until his whole body shook, until his voice went hoarse, until tears streamed down his face. That laughter rang through the still of the night, through the empty tent — and it was unbearably desolate, unbearably grief-stricken. The candleflame itself seemed to feel it, flickering and swaying in the amber light, the shadows on the tent walls rising and falling, uncertain.

“Jiu Wei…” Xiyun drew him in and held him tight — holding those trembling shoulders, holding that grieving soul. “Jiu Wei…” She murmured his name softly and gently, over and over, until at last those sounds of bitter, anguished laughter grew faint and finally stilled.

“Xiyun, I am full of hatred. I am in so much pain.” Jiu Wei held Xiyun, his voice hoarse, his expression wretched even as he smiled. “Our Jiu Luozu people, generation after generation, lived deep within the Jiu Luo Mountains and never made contact with the outside world, never entered into conflict with anyone outside. And yet why… why did we have to suffer such a tragedy? Tens of thousands of innocent lives gone in a single night. The lush and verdant Jiu Luo Mountains turned to mountains of blood in a single night. Nothing left but countless grieving souls whose hatred could never be appeased. For hundreds of years nothing remained but that cursed, forbidden name. For hundreds of years no one dared speak it. For hundreds of years it slowly disappeared from this world… Why was it like this?! For hundreds of years, the surviving remnants of our Jiu Luozu have hidden in the shadows, concealing their names and their origins, stealing whatever shred of life they could. And those enemies… they sit comfortably on their imperial thrones and royal seats. They enjoy their glory and wealth. Their descendants go on for a hundred generations… I hate them… I hate them…”

“Jiu Wei…” Xiyun reached up and wiped the tears from his face.

“Xiyun, I hate them! I want their families and nations shattered. I want blood to flow in rivers and bodies to pile like mountains. I want them to taste every last agony that our Jiu Luozu have tasted in all these hundreds of years! Xiyun… I can do it now… I can wipe away the hatred and grievance that has accumulated for our Jiu Luozu people over all these hundreds of years! And moreover… moreover that person of the Yu family! That person of the Yu family who wears the beautiful title of ‘Tianren’ and drapes himself in the skin of benevolence and compassion, yet aided and abetted that tyranny… that person of the Yu family who caused the annihilation of my entire people and ensured we would never again see the light of day! Xiyun, I hate them… I truly want… to kill every last one of those enemies!”

Xiyun held him, eyes closed, saying nothing. Yet in her heart the pain was almost past bearing. Jiu Wei… Jiu Wei…

“Xiyun, the armies of all the world have gathered here today. Their strength is evenly matched. They must pour everything into this battle and will have no attention to spare for anything else. I could use means to make them destroy each other until nothing is left. I could also use… Xiyun, I can make all of them sink to the bottom of Cangyou Lake. I can fill this lake with bodies. I can turn the lake water to blood that never fades, just like Jiujiu Lake of old!”

Jiu Wei’s eyes blazed with a wild, burning light. But Xiyun only looked at him quietly. Those clear eyes were like the brightest stars in the pitch-dark night — their radiant light seemed capable of reaching to the farthest edge of the sky, to the very depths of the heart, and seeing through everything in the world.

Under her gaze, Jiu Wei slowly shook his head. He sighed, resigned and helpless. “Yes — I cannot do it. I cannot look upon hundreds of thousands of lives as though they were grass to be discarded. I cannot look upon the common people as though they were nothing… And so I…”

He looked at Xiyun, and the sigh and the helplessness grew deeper still. “Xiyun, why will you not fight to claim this realm? Why are you willing to give up everything? If only you would claim this realm — then I could stand at your side without any reservation. I could help you obtain this realm. I could use the spiritual power of our Jiu Luozu without constraint to remove every obstacle in your path… But you insist on… Xiyun…” A long, powerless, despairing sigh.

“Jiu Wei, do not recklessly use your spiritual power. What is inflicted and what is received have always been one and the same!” Xiyun released him and fixed her gaze intently on him. She raised both hands and seized his. “Do not let your hands be stained with blood. You must remain clean and unharmed, and wait in peace for that day to come!”

“Xiyun, I do not fear retribution.” Jiu Wei smiled with unflinching ease — a smile that was desolate and hollow. “The Jiu Luozu have only me left. The worst retribution imaginable would only take my one life. What is there to fear in that? One person alone… it might be better to leave sooner.”

“Jiu Wei, you are not alone. There is still me.” Xiyun lifted Jiu Wei’s hand and held it to her cheek, warming those icy fingers, smiling with gentle tenderness. “Jiu Wei, we are family. We are the last family each other has in this world.”

“The last family…” Jiu Wei murmured, looking at Xiyun. He smiled — bittersweet, sorrowful. “Yes. Jiurong is already dead. And of the Feng Wang line, only you remain. In this world only you and I are connected by blood. We are this world’s last and only family!”

“Jiurong…” At the mention of Jiurong, a stab of pain shot through Xiyun’s heart. She could say nothing more.

Jiu Wei thought of that pure, shy yet brave and fearless Jiurong, and felt a sting at the corner of his eyes. “Our Jiu Luozu take loyalty as a source of pride. That Jiurong could save you — in his heart, he must have been very happy. Only…”

He drew in a deep breath, as though trying to press down the bitterness and pain rising in his chest. “In those days, the Jiu Luo King had three sons. After that great catastrophe, the people of the tribe were nearly all annihilated. Of the three princes, the third was saved by Feng Wang. The eldest, who is my ancestor, jumped from a cliff and was rescued by a master of the martial world. Only the second prince’s fate — dead or alive — was never known. From the moment I first met Jiurong, I held a feeling of certainty in my heart. I was never able to confirm it… But that Jiurong could use spiritual blood to save you — that means he must have been of the Jiu Luo royal line, and certainly a descendant of the second prince. After so much time, just when there was finally one family member… and yet…”

A single scalding tear fell between their joined palms. Whose was it?

“Though Feng Wang saved the third prince’s life, the price was the sacrifice of all her spiritual power. The royal bloodline’s spiritual essence was entirely depleted. And so the descendants of our Feng Wang line inherited none of the Jiu Luo royal tribe’s spiritual power — every generation has been an ordinary person. Though we never forgot the Jiu Luozu, in hundreds of years we never again encountered any of the Jiu Luo people. I spent more than ten years with Jiurong at my side — and never knew he was of the Jiu Luozu. In the end… in the end…” Her voice caught in her throat. She could not go on.

Xiu Jiurong had given everything to protect her, ensuring she returned safely. Yet he had also used his death to leave a wound in her heart — a pain she would never heal in all her life.

She rose to her feet. She breathed deeply. She lifted her eyes and looked around the tent. She gathered herself. After a moment she said: “Too many people have already died. From the annihilation of the entire Jiu Luozu in the early years of the empire, down through hundreds of years to this age of chaos today — countless innocent lives have been cruelly slaughtered already. And so… Jiu Wei, do not dirty your hands any further. Whatever the reason Shi Di and the Seven Kings had for destroying the Jiu Luozu in those days, however cruel and unjust that tragedy was — now the Dong Chao Empire is on the verge of its extinction. So let all the debts and grudges end together with the empire’s passing.”

She raised a hand and rested it on Jiu Wei’s shoulder. Her voice was calm and unhurried: “What I promised, I have already fulfilled. And so you must live well. Wait for the day the Jiu Luozu reappear in this world. Wait for the day the Jiu Luozu can stand with dignity in the open sunlight. When that day comes, you must return to the Jiu Luo Mountains, and in the name of the Jiu Luo King, summon all the scattered Jiu Luo people from every corner of the earth to return home and rebuild.”

“What you promised?” Jiu Wei turned his head sharply to look at Xiyun.

“Yes.” Xiyun nodded, and called out: “Zhe Di.”

The words had barely left her lips when a corner of the tightly drawn tent flap opened. A gust of cold wind rushed in and was instantly cut off. Before a blink had time to pass, a figure was standing inside the tent — a young man in silver-grey robes, upright in bearing, with regular, even features. His appearance was not particularly striking, yet a single look drew a feeling of warmth and liking. It must have been because of that smile, always beaming cheerfully on his face. The tent itself seemed to brighten in an instant because of it.

“You?”

“Feng Guo royal guard Zhe Di pays his respects to Elder Jiu Wei.” Zhe Di bowed slightly.

“Zhe Di…”

Jiu Wei had barely begun to speak when he saw Zhe Di take three steps forward, then drop to one knee before Jiu Wei, forehead pressed to the ground, and proclaim in a clear, carrying voice: “Royal guard of Feng Guo, Zhe Di, acting on the King’s command, presents this vermilion document to the King of the Jiu Luozu!” With that, both hands lifted high, presenting a silk scroll before Jiu Wei’s eyes.

Jiu Wei looked at Zhe Di in surprise, then looked toward Xiyun, who nodded. He accepted it.

“Zhe Di, your task is done. You may go.” Xiyun said mildly.

But unexpectedly, Zhe Di paid no heed to Xiyun’s instruction. He remained kneeling before Jiu Wei, raised his head to look at him, blinked his eyes and said: “King of the Jiu Luozu, do you happen to be in need of a personal guard? How about letting me be your guard — I guarantee I will protect you down to the last hair on your head! You should know that I, Zhe Di, am proficient in eighteen categories of weapons, am versed in twenty-eight styles of palm techniques, have mastered thirty-eight schools of internal energy cultivation, have defeated forty-eight first-rate martial masters, and spent sixty-eight days exchanging sword techniques with fifty-eight swordsmen on Qianbi Mountain, ultimately creating seventy-eight moves of my own ‘Qianbi Absolute Sword’ to take first place. Because of this I also took on eighty-eight clever and nimble disciples, and was in the process of planning to take ninety-eight wives. People of such unparalleled talent as myself are rare in this world, and so you should seize this opportunity quickly and invite me to be your guard!” Having finished, he blinked again and looked at the dumbfounded Jiu Wei with a beaming smile.

“You…” Jiu Wei had traveled the world throughout his life and could be said to have encountered all manner of people. But someone who talked with such smooth fluency, who had a habit of blinking, and who could manage to make the blinking — so associated with the coy expressions of young maidens — appear perfectly natural and casually dashing on a fully grown man — this was a first.

“How about it? Have you decided? Will you take me as your guard? As long as you take me as your guard, I can consider paying you ten silver leaves a day, and can furthermore consider selecting the most beautiful among my eighty-eight disciples as your personal attendant.” Before Jiu Wei could get a word out, Zhe Di was already speaking again.

“I…”

“My only condition is this: so long as you let me, your guard, remain at your side at all times and be available to protect you whenever needed, that is sufficient. You must absolutely not treat me the way a certain someone did — I served as a guard for fifteen years and from beginning to end performed only one errand. For over ten years she deposited me on Qianbi Mountain without a word or a glance, caring nothing about what became of me, leaving me to fend for myself in misery and solitude, struggling through the days. It was truly no life fit for a human being. As a result I had no choice but to practice the martial techniques of every school and sect over and over again until I could do them in my sleep. In my free time I could only go around looking for someone irritating to fight with or spar against, and incidentally sneak off to steal the precious scrolls from Shaochong Temple and snatch the mystical pills from Wulong Mountain — but because my identity is so mysterious I could only keep my face hidden, and my great name could not be made known in the martial world! A talent of such rare literary and martial accomplishments as myself was left to moulder in the wilderness — practically fated to die unrecognized with all my gifts unrealized!” Having said all this, he blinked his eyes repeatedly. Tears had gathered at the rims of his eyes, yet were not quite falling.

“I…”

“The great wish of my life is to serve as a true royal guard. If you invite me, I will fulfill every duty to the utmost, sparing no effort even at the cost of my heart’s blood! If you wish to learn any supreme martial technique, I can teach you — I can even teach you the Wuling Ghost Power of the Qi family, which it is said can keep one perpetually young and handsome. I can also introduce you to the finest mystical pills and medicines from every school and sect to nourish your vital energy, fortify your constitution, extend your years, let you have many wives and concubines, many children and grandchildren…” The voice suddenly stopped — not of his own volition, but because a sword with a gleaming, cold blade had appeared at his throat.

He blinked and looked at Jiu Wei. Then looked at the person holding the sword. Then blinked again and looked at his master, who stood to the side with folded arms. Finally, his face filled with deep sorrow as he sighed: “So you already have Xiao Mian as your guard. In that case, out of the bond of growing up together from childhood, I cannot take the livelihood from my own brother. Therefore I have no choice but to wrench my heart and reluctantly withdraw, and part in tears… ah…” The tip of the sword at his throat suddenly advanced one fraction of an inch and was already pressing against his skin, cold as a blade of ice.

“Too noisy. Crow-mouth.” A trace of impatience drifted across Xiao Mian’s cold, austere face.

“A crow?” Zhe Di’s beaming face twitched.

Xiao Mian nodded. “Make one more sound and I will cut out your tongue.”

“I am incomparably handsome, as graceful as a jade tree in the wind… ah…”

The swordtip had already moved without mercy straight for his throat. Before Jiu Wei’s startled cry could even leave his mouth, the figure kneeling before him had vanished entirely.

“A gentleman uses words, not hands!”

He had barely registered his shock when a grinning head poked out from behind Xiyun. “King of the Jiu Luozu, whenever you grow tired of that plank of wood and find yourself missing me — the most handsome, dashing, witty, and exceptional person of ancient and modern times — please send word.”

“Zhe Di.” Xiyun turned her head and cast him a glance.

“Here!” Zhe Di answered at once, looking at Xiyun with an expression of fawning eagerness. “My King, you have finally recognized how much in demand I am. Have you decided to summon me back from that wilderness of Qianbi Mountain?”

“Yes.” Xiyun nodded, and looked him up and down with a smile that was not quite a smile. “Someone as capable and outstanding as you is truly difficult to find in this world. It would be a waste not to make use of you. And yet I worry that small tasks would be beneath you. Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do?”

“Your personal guard, naturally!” Zhe Di answered without a single moment’s hesitation.

“Oh? And what might a personal guard be able to do?” Xiyun’s eyes moved with a glimmer of thought.

“So many things!” Zhe Di’s eyebrows and face came alive with animation. “A personal guard, as the name implies, follows my King at every single moment. I can go through fire and water for my King, I can clear a path through thorns and brambles for my King, I can be ruthless on my King’s behalf, and I can send every villain who harbors ill intentions toward my King flying beyond the ninth heaven with my Shadowless Palm. I can also attend to my King’s eating, dressing, bathing, and sleeping…” Just as he was growing enthusiastic, his voice suddenly cut out again.

“What is it?” Xiyun asked.

Zhe Di looked at Xiyun, then looked at the top of the tent, then looked at Jiu Wei and Xiao Mian beside him, and his brow suddenly bunched together in troubled concentration: “Wait, wait, let me think about this. Mm… though I am proficient in eighteen categories of weapons, versed in twenty-eight palm techniques, have mastered thirty-eight schools of cultivation, defeated forty-eight masters, created my own seventy-eight supreme sword techniques, have eighty-eight disciples to back me up, and have even touched the shaved head of the Shaoshi Mountain sect leader and pulled one of Wulong Mountain’s old Taoist’s beards — and yet…” He looked at Xiyun, and at last delivered his verdict with the pained resolve of someone sacrificing a precious limb: “And yet all of that combined seems still to be no match for Xi Wang’s single ‘Lan’an Tianxia’ technique. And so attending to my King’s eating, dressing, sleeping, and bathing would put me in danger… And therefore… alas, I had better return to Qianbi Mountain and become considerably more formidable before we discuss this further.” His gaze rested on Xiyun with deep sorrow. “My King, it is not that Zhe Di does not miss you — it is simply that though there are countless precious things in this world, all of those precious things combined cannot match the preciousness of one’s life. And so Zhe Di has no choice but to part from you in tears. Of course, if you can guarantee that Xi Wang will not use ‘Lan’an Tianxia’ on me, then Zhe Di is willing to sacrifice his life to attend to my King’s eating and dressing…”

“Pfft!”

Before Zhe Di could even finish, Jiu Wei burst out laughing despite himself. Even Xiao Mian’s eyes showed a hint of amusement — though the amusement carried a slight edge of mockery.

Zhe Di heard the sound, looked around, and then moved forward. His expression was now entirely serious. Though the smile was still all over his face, it now carried the composed and dignified bearing of a great house. He bowed with complete propriety: “Zhe Di takes his leave of Elder Jiu Wei. Until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again.” Jiu Wei rose and returned the bow, a gentle smile on his face.

Zhe Di studied him carefully, then broke into a grin again: “Though the features are not as handsome as mine, the smile has a beguiling power. The Jiu Luozu are truly not to be underestimated!” The words fell, and the person had already drifted away. “Whenever you wish to invite me as your guard, you may come to Qianbi Mountain. Remember — Qianbi Mountain. Not some Shenbi Mountain or Nongbi Mountain!” The voice faded before the person was gone.

Jiu Wei laughed in spite of himself and turned back — only to find that Xiao Mian had already disappeared.

“All of Feng Guo’s generals and officials treat you with the greatest respect. This kind of lively and amusing person is a rare exception — he must suit your temperament rather well.”

Zhe Di’s interlude had dispersed much of the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the tent.

Xiyun smiled: “Zhe Di’s character suits Bai Fengxi well — but not Feng Guo’s queen. And so he has guarded Qianbi Mountain all these years, protecting the ‘frail and sickly’ Princess Xiyun.”

Jiu Wei heard this and let out a sigh. He looked at the silk scroll in his hand. “What is this?”

“This is the first thing I did in my capacity as Feng Wang on the day I was enthroned.” Xiyun’s gaze passed over the scroll.

Jiu Wei opened the scroll at these words. When he saw clearly what was written upon it, in that single instant, a hundred emotions swept through his heart. A wish hoped for over hundreds of years — and yet it was being fulfilled in this very moment. But the feeling in his heart was one he could not identify. Was it bitter? Was it sour? Was it sharp? Was it pain? Was it grief? Was it joy? Did he want to laugh out loud? Or to weep? It seemed as though all of these were present, and yet as though none of them were — leaving him only able to stare at it blankly, vision blurring, without any response at all.

“This vermilion document bears the Phoenix Seal of Feng Guo, the Orchid Seal of Feng Guo, the Flame Seal of Huang Guo, and the Heaven Seal of the Yu family. You, myself, Xi Wang, Huang Wang, and Young Master Yu — one copy each. No matter into whose hands this realm falls, this vermilion document shall be proclaimed to all the world on the day of the enthronement, restoring the Jiu Luozu’s honor and clearing their name. This is the pledge of the four of us. This is also our repayment of a debt owed from over three hundred years ago.” Xiyun reached out and held Jiu Wei’s trembling hand. “No matter who wins or loses — no harm will come to you. Whatever the outcome, I have already done what I set out to do. Jiu Wei, you must not let my efforts be in vain!”

“Xiyun…”

“Jiu Wei.” Xiyun raised her hand to stop him. Her gaze moved to the single candle flame swaying and uncertain in the tent. “Regardless of whether tomorrow’s battle produces a victor, there will certainly be an outcome atop Changmang Shan. After the meeting at Changmang, whatever the result may be, please leave. Please return to the Jiu Luo Mountains and wait there in peace for a new world to come… When that time arrives… whether I am alive or dead, whether I sit in a court of state or my soul drifts to the ends of the earth… Jiu Wei, I will be genuinely happy for you. So please return safely to the Jiu Luo Mountains. Xiao Mian will guard you in my stead for the rest of your life.”

“So… you had already arranged everything!” Jiu Wei suddenly understood. He shot out a hand and gripped both of Xiyun’s shoulders. “No wonder you assigned Wuhan, Xiaozhan, and Zhanlou as deputy commanders to Qi Shu, Cheng Zhi, and Xu Yuan. Rather than call them deputy commanders, it would be more accurate to call them guards! Whether in victory or defeat, you have forbidden them from being harmed. You… you have kept us all safe. But you yourself… you…” Jiu Wei’s eyes turned red. He stared at Xiyun with intense pressure, and in that instant his heart felt soft and aching, his chest tight and difficult to breathe.

“Jiu Wei!” Xiyun patted the hand gripping her shoulder hard enough to make her bones ache. “You underestimate me too much. Know that I am not only Feng Guo’s queen, with countless soldiers and guards protecting me — I am also Bai Fengxi. Given my martial skill, who in this world could harm me? So rest easy — I will absolutely be fine. I simply need your safety to set my mind at ease. Do you understand?”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’!” Xiyun said with absolute finality. Her brow sharpened, and in that moment she was Feng Guo’s queen — the sovereign’s confidence and authority emanated from her with quiet force, something no one dared defy.

“Jiu Wei, trust me.” Xiyun softened her tone, took the hand from her shoulder, and squeezed it firmly. “Whatever happens — whether victory or defeat, whether life or death, whether we are separated to opposite ends of the earth — we will always be able to feel each other. We are this world’s only family, bound by blood!”

Jiu Wei looked deeply at her. He looked at that calm and self-assured face before him. The panic in his heart gradually settled into stillness. “Xiyun, I trust you. And so I will wait for you at the Jiu Luo Mountains! No matter how many years it takes, I will wait for you to come and eat the Jiu Luo dishes I will have prepared for you!”

“Good!” Xiyun laughed. She released Jiu Wei’s hand. “It is already very late. Time to sleep.” With that she turned to leave.

“Xiyun!” Jiu Wei called out to that retreating figure.

“What else?” Xiyun stopped and turned back.

“Why? Why must there be battle tomorrow? There are many times and many places and many ways to claim the realm — so why must it be decided in a battle at Dongdan Ford? Why must one battle determine the outcome? The outcome of a single battle is not sufficient to determine true victory or defeat — so why is it that all of you want only this one battle?” Jiu Wei put into words the last question in his heart.

Xiyun looked at him. After a long silence she said: “Given Xi Wang’s nature, there should by rights be no battle at Dongdan. But…” She paused briefly, then continued: “The battle at the foot of Changmang Shan — he seems to have been looking forward to it for a very long time.” Seeing the questioning look in Jiu Wei’s eyes, she could not help but smile. “Or perhaps there is a certain agreement — regarding the game of chess at the summit of Changmang Shan.”

“The chess game at Changmang Shan… would they truly decide ownership of the realm by that game?” Jiu Wei’s eyes flew open. What kind of contest for the realm was this — it was practically absurd.

“‘The unfinished game of Changmang waits with empty seats; one day a gathering of clouds will contend for Zhizun.’ This line has been in circulation for a long time. And the unfinished game atop that summit — you have most likely seen it yourself — it truly exists. So it is not beyond possibility that the game’s outcome might determine who owns the realm.” Xiyun smiled with complete unconcern. In that moment, Bai Fengxi’s bold and uninhibited spirit seemed to flicker back. “To dare wager the entire realm on a single game — now that is true boldness!”

“But that is ten thousand li of rivers and mountains. It is not some trifling sum of gold and silver. If the loser truly gives it up at that, they must be mad!” Jiu Wei could not believe it. Looking across all the dynasties of history, for that one dragon throne, which among them had not required rivers of blood and mountains of bodies before it was won? And which among the defeated had not fought to the last soldier and the very end of every option before accepting defeat?

“The one who must fight to the last soldier and final option is the true madman!” Xiyun said in a cold, crisp voice.

Jiu Wei fell silent. After a long while he said: “If a great battle is fought at Dongdan, given the current situation, the most likely outcome is…” The rest of the words were suddenly swallowed back down. He looked at Xiyun. “From a military standpoint, Kang Cheng is the essential ground that must be taken.”

“Kang Cheng… Qing Cheng…” Xiyun’s brow gave a sudden twitch. “Kang Cheng — there is also…” But she caught herself halfway through, lowered her head, and seemed to sink into thought.

Jiu Wei made no move to interrupt her thinking.

After a while, Xiyun seemed to have worked something out. She raised her head and looked at Jiu Wei. “If the realm truly could be decided by a game of chess, that would be the best outcome. Otherwise…” Her eyes grew heavy and dark. “It would be a land of wailing stretching to the horizon, and white bones for a thousand li.”

Jiu Wei’s heart gave a start at these words. He looked at Xiyun in a daze.

“Jiu Wei, what is the condition of the common people in the realm today?” Xiyun asked.

“Though war has been constant, the four kingdoms of Huang, Hua, Feng, and Mo have always been powerful, and with the alliances among them, the people of the four kingdoms have lived in relative peace and contentment. Only the people of Bai, Nan, and the Wangyu region have suffered the full harshness of war. However, Huang Wang and yourselves are not cruel people who delight in killing, and though you have taken cities and seized territory, your military discipline has been strict and your relief efforts frequent — so the suffering of the common people has been reduced to the minimum.” Jiu Wei answered.

“Ah, even so — those who die in war are not only soldiers. The innocent civilians caught in the harm number not just in the tens of thousands.” Xiyun sighed. She thought of how, whenever she entered a city, she had seen the terrified and fearful faces of the common people along the way — those cries of anguish for lost family members, those eyes filled with absolute despair. Her heart sank to the very bottom. “Since I took the throne, it has been war without end. Every direction I look is filled with casualties. And the killing and the guilt I have created with my own hands could not be washed clean if you poured out all the water of the Eastern Sea. And so if this age of chaos could be brought to an end here… why would that not be good…” At that she stopped herself, and with a self-mocking slap to her forehead said: “A sovereign of a nation entertaining such naive thoughts — truly… thank goodness it is only Jiu Wei listening.”

But Jiu Wei did not answer in response to her words. Instead he looked at Xiyun in a peculiar manner. That gaze made Xiyun deeply uncomfortable — because very, very few people had ever looked at her with a gaze like that. There was probing in it, suspicion in it, and examination… In the past, that black fox would occasionally look at her this way, but she could usually choose to ignore it. Jiu Wei was different — she could not simply ignore it. And yet she was sincerely hoping he would stop.

“Xiyun, what you truly care about is not which house this realm’s position of supreme authority falls to. What you care about is the common people under heaven.” Jiu Wei fixed his gaze on Xiyun’s eyes, not letting any emotion that passed through them escape his notice.

“What is so remarkable about the position of supreme authority? It is nothing more than a filthy, worn-out chair that countless people have sat upon.” The feeling that she was about to fall into a situation from which she could never escape came over Xiyun with a sudden, instinctive panic under Jiu Wei’s gaze. Some dim premonition stirred in her heart — as though the next moment, she would be plunged into an abyss with no way out.

“Since you care nothing for the royal seat and the imperial throne — then why did you not lend your strength to Huang Wang? With the combined might of your three kingdoms, plus the three of you personally along with the celebrated generals under your command, Xi Wang — however formidable — would certainly have been at a disadvantage, and the chaos of this age might have ended sooner. So why have you stood unfailingly and without hesitation at Xi Wang’s side? Given your nature, you could also simply have entrusted your kingdom to either Huang Wang or Xi Wang and then departed freely wherever the wind took you. Why did you choose to remain when you clearly knew it would bind you to your kingdom and its throne — and went even further, entering into a betrothal?” Jiu Wei’s eyes were bright and sharp, blazing as a drawn sword, pressing directly at those eyes with no guard up and no time to raise a guard — shooting straight from those startled eyes into the very bottom of the heart.

Xiyun’s face went pale. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She looked at Jiu Wei with blank incomprehension, utterly at a loss.

Jiu Wei gave her no time to catch her breath or collect herself. He delivered the final line with firm, pressing force: “Bai Fengxi is free-spirited and uninhibited — she can look at any person and any situation with a smile and let it go. Yet toward one single person she is endlessly demanding, endlessly critical, endlessly unforgiving! Feng Wang Xiyun is generous and magnanimous — she cherishes every one of her subordinates, and is merciless toward her enemies. And yet even when that person caused the deaths of subordinates she loved as herself, even when that person did so many things that disappointed, enraged, and hurt her — she still stood at that person’s side. She never once thought of turning away from that person. She never thought to act against that person, to take revenge on that person, to harm that person! Xiyun — tell me why all of this is so!”

Like thunder striking overhead, deafening and mind-shattering — everything she had refused to listen to now rang through her with perfect clarity. Like ten thousand surging waves crashing in, smashing through solid walls of iron — everything she had refused to acknowledge was now pressed squarely before her. Like lightning splitting the sky open, splitting apart a thick and heavy fog — everything she had refused to look at was now spread directly before her eyes. In that moment, there was nowhere to hide. In that moment, those eyes across from her blazed with light — like bright swords suspended above her head, forcing her to lift her face and meet it.

Her face went white. Her whole body trembled. She was helpless and stricken. She staggered backward.

This was something she had never in all this time allowed herself to think. This was something she had never in all this time permitted herself to think. This was something she had never in all this time dared to think. Because she simply would not, would not, did not dare. This was the thing she was most unwilling to acknowledge. This was the thing she could least forgive herself for.

And yet in this moment — whether she was willing or not, whether she dared or not — it stood before her eyes with crystalline clarity, pressed into her heart with unmistakable certainty, and in towering, immovable presence, it demanded she face it.

Step by step she backed away — body trembling faintly, eyes wide, face drained white — all the way back to the tent entrance. She leaned there, steadying herself, trying to calm her breathing. After a long moment she raised her hand and pointed at the figure across from her: “Jiu Wei, you’re bullying me!”

The curtain swept aside. She was gone.

“In the end — are you the one who has wronged him, or has he wronged you? Or is it only yourself who has wronged yourself?” Jiu Wei sat down with easy, unhurried calm, smiling with perfect tranquility. “You should also see it clearly by now. You should decide. You want our safety to set your heart at ease — then I want your safety to set my heart at ease.

The eighth day of the first month.

The sky was clear. The wind was fierce. The war drums thundered. The banners danced.

Black and white, sharp and distinct. Purple and gold, blazing bright. Blades and swords gleamed cold. Killing intent surged to the heavens.

The last, the most fierce, and the most celebrated great battle at the end of the Dong era unfolded here at Dongdan Ford. In later generations, it would be known as “The Decisive Battle of Dongdan.”

“This battle — I believe both of us have been looking forward to it for a long time. Looking forward to this decisive confrontation that will determine our fates and the final outcome!” Huang Chao said to Yu Wuyuan at his side, his golden eyes blazing and brilliant as he gazed at the adversaries across the field.

“Yu Wuyuan holds first place among the Four Young Masters — this battle will test whether he truly deserves the title of ‘foremost in all the realm.’ We shall see which of us can claim the throne that stands as ‘foremost in all the realm’!” Lanxi said calmly to Xiyun at his side, his black eyes gazing steadily toward the adversaries across the field.

The sovereigns’ hands came down at the same moment. In that instant, the war drums rang out all at once — like thunder rolling through every ear! The warriors surged forward together — like an enraged tide! The banners swirled and pitched — like clouds gone wild!

“Qiao Jin! Qi Shu! Qishu! Xu Yuan!” Lanxi called out.

“Here!” The four bowed.

“East, South, West, North — four flank commanders!” His hand pointed toward the front formation.

“Yes!”

“The Jintian Cavalry of a few months ago is no longer what it was — Huang Chao’s ability to command troops is without peer in this age!” Xiyun’s gaze moved over the gleaming gold-armored soldiers on the battlefield, and she said with feeling: “Today is truly the meeting of all four great cavalry forces!”

“Duanmu! Cheng Zhi! Chuanyun! Rear triangle!” Lanxi called again.

“Yes!”

Xiyun turned to look at him: “With this deployment, I truly cannot tell what formation you intend to use for the decisive engagement.”

“Why rigidly adhere to a single formation? On the battlefield, shifting in a thousand unpredictable ways is precisely what makes one impossible for the enemy to anticipate.” Lanxi smiled faintly.

Xiyun’s lips curved slightly, her expression half-smiling: “And you are not afraid that no matter how you shift and change, you still cannot escape a single Five Finger Mountain?”

“I rather intend to test that.” Lanxi glanced at her sidelong.

“Huang Yu!” Huang Chao’s gaze did not stray from the front.

“Here!” Huang Yu moved swiftly forward.

“Go — center army vanguard commander!”

“Yes!” Huang Yu accepted the command.

“Xue Kong! Jiu Shuang!”

“Here!” Snow-white long hair danced in the wind. Dark-feathered arrows filled the quivers.

“Left and right flanks!”

“Yes!”

Both sides had deployed their formations. The commanders of each army had taken their positions. Both sides’ kings stood upon their high command platforms. The decisive battle was about to begin.

“Transmit the order — the north advances in crossbow formation!” The command rang out beneath the black banner.

“Yes!”

The messenger rapidly transmitted the order. In an instant, the Fengyun Cavalry in the north shifted formation, moving like a drawn longbow with an arrow ready to fly, lunging forward at speed — and the Jintian Cavalry that bore the brunt of the charge was immediately swept down in a swath!

“Center army — arc-sea defensive formation!” The order came from beneath the purple flame banner.

“Yes!”

The messenger relayed the command at once. The lead of the Jintian Cavalry at the center army’s position fell back in rapid retreat, and in moments had transformed into a curving arc like a vast deep sea. The Fengyun Cavalry, which had charged out like a crossbow bolt, was swallowed by the deep and wide golden sea as a stone sinks in water.

“Transmit the order — east army double-blade formation!” Lanxi smiled mildly at the changes on the battlefield.

“Yes!”

The messenger passed down the order. The Mo Yu Cavalry on the eastern flank transformed in an instant into a double-edged blade, and with the Mo Yu Cavalry’s unmatched speed shot forward like lightning — catching the Zhengtian Cavalry on the left flank completely off guard!

“Transmit the order — left flank open-flow formation!” Huang Chao responded swiftly.

“Yes!”

The Zhengtian Cavalry on the left flank transformed into a surging river current. The Mo Yu Cavalry’s blade thrust straight through — but struck only empty air. The Zhengtian Cavalry had already split to either side. Like a river current crashing against a shore and rising up, it poured back in from both sides and encircled the Mo Yu Cavalry — and the Mo Yu Cavalry was suddenly like a sword enclosed within its sheath, unable to move.

“Transmit the order — Chuanyun long spear formation!” Lanxi showed not a trace of alarm.

“Yes!”

In an instant the Mo Yu Cavalry at the right corner thrust out like a long spear. The sharp ink-colored spear slashed across the purple sword-sheath, and in a moment blood-colored sparks flew in all directions! Meanwhile the Mo Yu sword within the sheath swept horizontally across, breaking free of the sheath and pressing straight toward the center army Jintian Cavalry — rescuing the Fengyun Cavalry that had been sinking into the golden arc-sea!

“Transmit the order — center army pillar-stone formation, left flank wind-shift formation!” Huang Chao gave the order.

“Yes!”

The Jintian Cavalry’s front line at the center army position immediately raised up a multitude of shields and armor, standing like heaven-supporting pillars — immovable as stone walls regardless of how the Fengyun and Mo Yu cavalry surged against them like tides! The left flank transformed into wind-swaying purple willows — when the Mo Yu long spear stabbed forward, they simply withdrew with the wind!

“Huang Chao is truly well-named.” Lanxi smiled approvingly, yet issued new orders without delay. “East and north flanks have no major difficulties — west army rain-downpour formation!”

“Yes!”

No sooner had the order been issued when the Mo Yu Cavalry positioned in the west already had longbows raised like the sun. The lead general He Qishu gave a great sweep of his hand, and in an instant a storm of ink-black arrows shot outward — and the Zhengtian Cavalry on the right flank, before they could react, were struck down in a great sweep!

“The commander of the Zhengtian Cavalry’s right flank appears to be that one known as a divine archer — Qiu Jiushuang. The right flank force she commands must also be particularly skilled at mounted archery.” Lanxi looked at the banner in the formation bearing the large character “Qiu,” a small smile on his face. “But to overcome the enemy one must seize the initiative first. I would rather like to see how Huang Chao will break this move — and see what this female general whose name rivals yours can do.”

“When it comes to archery, Qiu Jiushuang… is already without equal in this world.” Xiyun’s gaze was on the battlefield. The Mo Yu Cavalry’s arrows fell like a relentless downpour, the torrent like a flood, and countless Zhengtian Cavalry struggled and fell in the storm of arrows.

At her words, Lanxi looked at her, a flicker crossing his eyes — as though about to say something, yet in the end he only lowered his gaze and turned his head.

“Transmit the order — right flank wall-blade formation!” Huang Chao’s resonant voice could faintly be heard even across the distance of several thousand meters.

“Yes!”

As the order was given, from within the Zhengtian Cavalry on the right flank a single arrow suddenly flew, a dark jade rainbow arcing across ten thousand troops, shooting straight into the Mo Yu Cavalry formation — swift and fierce and unstoppable. Before anyone could even marvel at that arrow, a black helmet was already spinning up into the air. Thud! It was pinned firmly to the flagpole of the banner bearing the large character “He.”

“General!” A cry of alarm rang out from within the Mo Yu Cavalry formation. On the command platform, Lanxi’s brow gave an almost imperceptible movement — but in the next blink, it had subsided into trackless composure.

“I am unharmed! Hold your positions — maintain the formation!” The figure that had been bent over his horse rose upright. Apart from the loss of his helmet, there was not a single mark on him. He raised his eyes and gazed toward the enemy position, grinding his teeth inwardly: Well played, Qiu Jiushuang! If I had not dodged in time, what would be pinned to that flagpole right now would not just be a helmet — it would be He Qishu’s head!

That the morale of the Mo Yu Cavalry was shaken by that arrow was only a matter of moments — but the Zhengtian Cavalry across the field had already used that opportunity to shift their formation. By the time the Mo Yu Cavalry came back to their senses, the front of the Zhengtian Cavalry formation had drawn up horses in full armor in a solid line. Before those horses stood thick, heavy long shields — dense and orderly, rank upon rank. Every arrow fired by the Mo Yu Cavalry struck uselessly and fell. Under the protection of the long shields, the Zhengtian Cavalry advanced in perfect unison toward the Mo Yu Cavalry. Arrows were useless now — the Mo Yu Cavalry swiftly drew their blades to meet the enemy. The two armies clashed, and the Mo Yu Cavalry’s blades struck against the long shields — and then from within the shields and armor of the Zhengtian Cavalry, a long line of sharp blades suddenly extended outward. In an instant, a great swath of Mo Yu Cavalry soldiers fell in pools of blood!

“Strike the enemy’s momentum before striking the enemy itself — well done! Qiu Jiushuang lives up to her name as a great general!” Lanxi spoke in admiration, his brow sharpening. “Duanmu — hammer-blade formation!”

“Yes!”

The Mo Yu Cavalry at the left corner moved on the order and charged straight at the Zhengtian Cavalry. At the moment of impact, they swiftly shifted formation — the head becoming a hammer, the tail like a blade. Before the Zhengtian Cavalry had even understood what was happening, the ink-colored iron hammer had driven into the solid long shields with the force of rolling thunder, while the tail-blade swept along the ground, targeting the hooves of the war horses where their armor did not reach. Cries rang out without end. Zhengtian Cavalry soldiers fell from their horses one after another. The solid wall of shields crumbled in an instant.

“Outside of Feng Xiyun, I have never met so formidable an adversary. Feng Lanxi is truly the opponent I have long awaited!” Huang Chao said in a low voice, his gaze blazing as it fixed upon the enemy formation, sharp energy evident at his brow. “Transmit the order — right flank sparse-forest formation, center army mountain-collapse formation!”

“Yes!”

The order was transmitted. The Zhengtian Cavalry on the right flank moved rapidly in all directions, scattering in an instant like trees of a sparse forest — the iron hammer swung down, but struck barely anything! The heavy cavalry at the center army spurred their horses to full gallop and charged toward the enemy with total abandon, like golden boulders hurled into wave after wave of surging silver and black tides — countless stones falling, holding the enemy outside, destroying the enemy within!

“Transmit the order — north army eagle-strike!”

“Transmit the order — left flank leopard-charge!”

“Transmit the order — east army wolf-sprint!”

“Transmit the order — right flank tiger-leap!”

One order after another issued from the mouths of the two commanders. The great armies below executed them swiftly and without the slightest deviation.

The formations of both armies shifted in patterns beyond prediction. Across the battlefield, dust and sand rolled in clouds, war horses screamed in the wind, blades rang and clashed, war cries shook the heavens! The battle raged from sunrise through noon, and from noon through the slanting afternoon. Countless warriors charged outward, and countless warriors fell. Looking across the field, silver-armored, black-armored, purple-armored, and gold-armored soldiers filled every direction — fallen, standing, swinging blades, lifting spears… Every pair of eyes was crimson red — whether from the reflection of blood or from having breathed in blood, no one could say. The wind swept ferociously, the wind howled furiously, lifting the long capes of the warriors, sending blood-soaked battle banners flying high — yet unable to extinguish the flames of battle raging below. Blood flew and fell, voices rose and fell. The wind came, the wind passed. Across the battlefield the drums still thundered, the blades and swords still ran cold, the screams and battle cries still split the air.

“Transmit the order — left flank Five-Element seal!”

“Transmit the order — west army Eight Trigrams sky-piercing formation!”

The commanders on the platforms maintained their cold and clear minds without pause, responding with speed and agility. For this battle that would determine the ultimate fate of the realm, for this adversary that the world could rarely produce — both sides poured in the full learning of a lifetime and every last ability they possessed.

Huang Chao’s gaze blazed with heat, his sword-like brows soaring, issuing orders with laughing ease, his overwhelming pride evident in every gesture!

On Yu Wuyuan’s face — ordinarily without a ripple — a solemn gravity settled now. His brow drew inward in a faint furrow.

Xiyun stood with hands clasped behind her back, observing the battle in stillness, her expression entirely composed.

“Transmit the order — center army serpent-advance…”

“Do not!” Yu Wuyuan, who had been silently observing until now, spoke suddenly. “Center army finger-peak formation, left flank turtle-defense, right flank crane-soar!” He delivered it all in one breath, then turned to look at Huang Chao. “Xi Wang is a thrilling and absorbing adversary, but do not forget his tendency toward concealment. The south army and the rear corner have not moved at all!”

“Yes.” Huang Chao gave a nod, exhaled a long breath, a touch of self-mockery in his expression. “An adversary like this is too exceptional — I lost myself in it. From here you take command.”

“When it comes to troop movement and formation deployment, you are no worse than him. But when it comes to depth of strategy and density of calculation, there is no one in this world who can rival him!” Yu Wuyuan looked down in deep concentration. Both sides’ formations had shifted and counter-shifted many times over, each deeply interlocked with the other, of extraordinary complexity — one careless move and it would mean total defeat.

Across the field, Lanxi saw the movement of the Zhengtian Cavalry and lifted his brow in mild surprise. But then he smiled faintly: “East army flounder-swim formation, west army dragon-march formation!”

“He has…” Yu Wuyuan’s brow gave a startled lift and then immediately drew inward again. “Right flank four-sea formation, left flank eight-desolations formation!” His voice was crisp and steady, and those usually elusive, hard-to-read eyes blazed bright as the coldest stars.

“Mm — so I’ve been seen through?” Lanxi murmured quietly to himself. He looked at the formation below, and then smiled with perfect confidence. “But it is already too late.”

“Transmit the order — rear corner extreme-heaven formation.”

“What a deeply calculated Feng Lanxi!” Yu Wuyuan looked at the formations of both armies and said with feeling. “He did indeed have a plan all along! Left flank — inactive formation!”

“South army star-shift formation. It is done.” Lanxi exhaled lightly, a smile of satisfaction and accomplishment on his face.

“Center army return-to-origin formation. It is accomplished.” Yu Wuyuan exhaled lightly, and the furrow at his brow smoothed out.

But in the next moment, both men, looking at the formations, simultaneously froze — then simultaneously smiled with wry resignation.

Xiyun looked at the battlefield. She tilted her head and sighed: “If this were a game of chess — would this be called a dead game or a draw?”