“My Lord—”

A mournful cry rang out across the battlefield. The troops that had been fighting desperately suddenly became like a headless bull, charging about wildly before abruptly scattering in defeat. Seeing this turn of events, the remaining soldiers of the Great Xia began planning a counterattack.

The lowly soldier who had just achieved merit suddenly raised the great banner high, waving his arms and shouting: “Follow me into battle formation!”

The Xia army responded one after another, and for a moment, they managed to push back the remaining Qian forces by half a li.

Just as the tide of defeat was falling like a collapsing mountain, Wei Zijue arrived with reinforcements at the crucial moment. With his long blade raised, he spurred his horse forward and severed that soldier’s head.

Blood splattered three feet, and he held up the severed head in his hand to clear the way: “Kill!”

His guards brushed past the fleeing troops ahead, pouncing toward Great Xia’s remnant forces like fierce tigers descending from the mountains. Seeing this, the fleeing Qian soldiers gradually slowed their pace, looked at the commander charging at the forefront, hesitated for a moment, then turned around to follow in an attack on the enemy.

The originally dark blue demonic flames died out and rekindled again. On this battlefield of bloody carnage, where one bone withers, another general achieves glory.

…

At the break of dawn, Wei Zijue found He Zeyou’s corpse.

“Wasn’t it said he was killed by a single enemy blade?” He looked puzzledly at He Zeyou’s chest. “What is this?”

An exquisitely crafted dagger, with patterns carved on the handle both carefully and intricately.

The deputy general looked down: “Isn’t this just a blade wound?”

Wei Zijue was startled, raised his hand to rub his eyes, and when he looked again, there was truly only a dried wound at He Zeyou’s heart.

“Strange.” He muttered. “I almost saw the patterns on it.”

Wind swept yellow sand across the Nine Rivers, light sand particles swirling as they brushed past the gradually quieting streets, slowly settling on the windowsill of a small courtyard.

Shen Qiyuan was packing their belongings, taking things here and there, when he suddenly pulled out the dagger he had personally forged: “How did you bring this along too?”

Ruyi leaned against the window, her pale fingertip gently tapping the sand particles on the window ledge, answering with smiling eyes: “Thought it might be useful.”

“You hardly need this.” He shook his head, touching the handle with some wistfulness. “This was something I made for you when I had lost my memory. Speaking of which, it’s strange – back then I didn’t even know your true form was a magpie, yet I still chose to carve a sparrow pattern.”

“Have you forgotten?” Ruyi turned her head slightly, saying with mild annoyance: “Two thousand years ago, I loved long sleep while you preferred early rising, cultivating so diligently you even ate half a bowl less rice than others. What did I say to you then?”

With some amusement in her eyes, Shen Qiyuan imitated her tone: “Why suffer such hardship? It’s not like you’ll advance a thousand li in a day.”

She immediately mimicked him, putting on a stern face, hands clasped behind her back, raising her head to gaze at the sky with a distant and melancholy expression: “How can sparrows and swallows understand the aspirations of swans and geese?”

After saying this, she stamped her foot in annoyance: “You were so insufferably arrogant!”

Shen Qiyuan touched his nose tip: “I was young then, somewhat reckless.”

“Over a thousand years old, and you have the nerve to use youth as an excuse?” Ruyi spat at him. “You simply looked down on me back then, and later kept calling me Little Sparrow. If I hadn’t beaten you at the trial assembly, you never would have changed how you addressed me.”

He chuckled softly, reaching out to grasp her sleeve.

“What are you doing?” She glared at him fiercely.

The person before her raised his eyes to look at her, his gaze soft and docile: “Could you not be angry with me anymore?”

Faced with such beauty, Ruyi’s lips pressed together, but she still stiffened her neck and said: “Just because you ask me not to be angry doesn’t mean I won’t be. That would make me far too easy to talk to.”

“Elder sister.” His ink-black hair cascaded like a waterfall as he grasped her sleeve, shaking it coquettishly.

Didn’t you say you couldn’t stand the behavior of Qingyi and Zijue and their ilk?

Shameful, too shameful!

Ruyi cursed inwardly, but still leaned down, burying her face in his freshly bathed hair for a deep inhale.

The candlelight was dim and yellow, extinguishing in moments. Red blankets tumbled and rolled, stirring up a breeze that blew the sand particles from the windowsill to drift further downward.

…

With Shen Qiyuan’s assistance in summoning wind and rain, Great Qian’s momentum was like a rainbow. For two consecutive months, they won battles, not only pushing the Xia people back fifty li but also receiving news that the Great Xia had declared a ceasefire.

When this news reached the court, the emperor was overjoyed and immediately ordered scribes to draft a peace treaty overnight, hoping to take advantage and reclaim two former Great Qian cities.

However, Great Xia was only internally chaotic with no mind for external enemies – it wasn’t that they truly couldn’t defeat Great Qian. Thus this proposal was immediately rejected, and their envoy arrogantly declared that if they didn’t withdraw, Great Xia’s cavalry would surely trample Lin’an City.

When this spread, Great Qian’s subjects were furious. You’re the ones who lost battles, you’re the ones who want to stop fighting, yet you still have the gall to speak while stepping on our heads?

Several military generals immediately requested to continue the war.

However, Emperor Qian’an sat on his high dragon throne and merely shook his head: “When border conflicts arise, the national treasury empties. When the treasury empties, the realm becomes restless, and the people suffer – I truly cannot bear this. Ceasefire benefits both nations, so let it cease.”

“Your Majesty must not! Our army’s morale is at its peak now. If we cease fighting, it will be difficult to have such an advantage again!”

“In the current situation, they still speak so arrogantly – if our forces become inferior in the future, wouldn’t we have to hand over Lin’an?”

The generals knelt and kowtowed. Even a general over sixty emerged from the ranks, trembling while holding his helmet, his gray hair blindingly white in the morning light of the great hall.

Emperor Qian’an swept his sleeves and departed.

He would not let this war continue. Unable to achieve victory, it was better to quit while ahead.

Dark clouds hung over the court hall as civil and military officials looked at each other, finally only able to heave long sighs.

Shen Qiyuan received an imperial edict.

The decree was richly gracious, bestowing upon him two new residences near Chaotian Gate, ten thousand taels of gold, and promising his future wife official rank, ordering him to enter the palace for an audience of gratitude upon reaching Lin’an.

Sitting in the carriage, he toyed with the bound yellow scroll, remaining silent for a long while. Song Zhenshan, beside him, couldn’t help but ask: “What does His Majesty mean by this?”

Shen Qiyuan had always remained in the shadows and hadn’t achieved any obvious military merit, yet his rewards were more generous than even the marshal’s.

“What else could it mean?” Ruyi sat with legs crossed, leaning against soft cushions. She reached over to take the imperial edict from Shen Qiyuan’s hands: “Let me read it to you: Everyone at court wants to continue fighting, but I don’t want to raise another general whose achievements overshadow his master. I’m giving you houses and money – hurry back to help me control the situation and suppress that newly successful marshal while you’re at it.”

Supreme Lord couldn’t help but smile at this, then felt it unseemly to joke with a demon, hurriedly pulling his whiskers over his mouth to tie them in a knot.

Ruyi glanced at him and pouted, returning the edict to Shen Qiyuan: “Are you so certain that Puhua is no longer controlling that emperor?”

“No.” Shen Qiyuan said. “I don’t even know if this decree came from him or if Puhua made him issue it.”

“Then you still dare return?” She raised her eyebrows.

The person before her lowered his eyes: “How do you think the Blue God should protect the mortal realm?”

“By fulfilling all requests, I suppose.” She answered quickly, then scratched her chin with some uncertainty: “Though if everyone got their heart’s desire, that doesn’t seem quite right either.”

Shen Qiyuan fell silent, only forming hand seals to quietly shorten their journey back to Lin’an.