Dazzling flashes of light streaked across the city wall. Three figures shot upward and became entangled in combat. Ordinary martial artists couldn’t follow their movements—only countless afterimages flitting through the air and sword qi bursting forth from all directions. The crowd retreated to safety to watch this epic battle from below.

Only Han Mingyue could make out some details of the fight, but she remained transfixed on the three combatants in the sky, too focused to answer any questions from those beside her.

A thunderous crash rang out. Before anyone could react, a black figure plummeted from above, slamming heavily into the floor of the city tower. Han Mingyue and Qin Feng positioned themselves on either side of Ye Li. When the crowd looked over, they saw Lei Zhenting sprawled on the ground, blood flowing from his right wrist and both legs. Lei Zhenting lay there with a defeated expression, his face pale and eyes dim. Han Mingyue relaxed at the sight—Lei Zhenting’s martial arts had been crippled, and with his injuries, he posed no further threat.

Soon after, Mo Xiuyao and Ling Tiehan also landed. Neither was in good condition. Mo Xiuyao’s snow-white robes were stained with several bloody gashes, with an especially alarming wound on his left arm. Ling Tiehan’s blue cloth garment had a long tear, and a thin wound traced across his neck—any deeper and both combatants might have fallen.

“Xiuyao…” Ye Li frowned slightly at Mo Xiuyao’s injuries. But Mo Xiuyao was in excellent spirits. With Lei Zhenting dealt with, he had now settled accounts with almost everyone he’d meticulously planned to eliminate over the years. Even the dark killing intent that had lingered between his brows had largely dissipated.

“A’Li, I won,” Mo Xiuyao smiled.

Ye Li nodded slightly and said softly, “I know.”

“cough cough…” Lei Zhenting, sitting collapsed on the ground, coughed twice, spitting up blood. He turned to glare at Mo Xiuyao and asked, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Mo Xiuyao replied coldly, “This Prince said he would make you wish for death! This Prince always keeps his word!”

Lei Zhenting laughed scornfully, “This Prince didn’t expect the Prince of Ding to also enjoy torturing prisoners.”

“As long as you acknowledge you’re a prisoner, that’s fine. There’s still much you don’t know,” Mo Xiuyao smiled. “Would you like to know how This Prince plans to entertain you?” Mo Xiuyao’s eyes suddenly blazed with fierce intent, as if he desperately wanted to tear Lei Zhenting apart but forced himself to keep him alive.

Before Lei Zhenting could respond, a sword flash suddenly streaked past. Mo Xiuyao erupted in fury, “Ling Tiehan, you seek death!” Ling Tiehan’s sword had pierced Lei Zhenting’s chest, blood spurting forth. A gaping wound opened in Lei Zhenting’s chest—he was breathing his last.

Ling Tiehan had been standing closer than Mo Xiuyao, who was supporting Ye Li. The sword strike came too quickly and viciously for Mo Xiuyao to intervene. After being stabbed by Ling Tiehan, Lei Zhenting showed no pain, instead giving Mo Xiuyao a mocking smile. As if to say: Didn’t you want me to suffer a fate worse than death? This Prince shall die now instead.

“Hehe… Ling Tiehan… Thirteenth Brother… thank you,” Lei Zhenting said faintly. His dimming gaze swept over Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li, crossing with regret and worry. But he could say nothing more as the last light gradually faded from his eyes.

“Xiuyao!” Ye Li grabbed Mo Xiuyao’s hand as he moved to strike at Ling Tiehan. She said softly, “I’m tired. Let’s go back and rest.”

Mo Xiuyao’s gaze softened as he looked down at the blood still unwiped from Ye Li’s beautiful face, his eyes filling with more remorse. “Alright, let’s go rest first. General Leng, Feng San, I leave this to you.”

Feng Zhiyao nodded with a bitter expression—he hadn’t rested for a day and night either!

Ye Li turned back to Ling Tiehan: “Master Ling can stay in the city to recover before departing. Master Shen has many medicines.”

Ling Tiehan cupped his hands: “Many thanks, Princess Consort.”

Watching Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li leave arm in arm, Feng Zhiyao looked back at Lei Zhenting’s corpse on the ground and frowned: “How should we handle this?” Though an enemy, Lei Zhenting was still a great hero of his time. Feng Zhiyao was reluctant to dishonor him too much. As the saying goes, death settles all debts—what use was there in holding grudges against the dead? But if Lei Zhenting had fallen into Mo Xiuyao’s hands, he likely would have died in pieces.

Leng Huai raised his eyebrows, sharing Feng Zhiyao’s sentiment. As a traditional military officer, Leng Huai held some respect for famous generals. Unless necessary, he was generally unwilling to desecrate enemy corpses outside the battlefield—that was the behavior of the weak.

Ling Tiehan glanced at Lei Zhenting on the ground and said, “Would This One be permitted to take him back to Xiling?”

“Of course,” Leng Huai and Feng San exchanged looks. Feng Zhiyao added, “However… he must be cremated by the Prince of Ding’s manor. Master Ling can only take back the ashes.” It wasn’t that Feng Zhiyao was being too cautious—after Mo Xiuyao’s return from death, he simply didn’t want to risk anything.

Ling Tiehan didn’t mind. Being able to collect Lei Zhenting’s remains already showed sufficient loyalty. He nodded: “That’s fine. This One can wait a few days.”

Feng Zhiyao said, “No need to wait days, it will be done quickly.” He didn’t want Ling Tiehan waiting around. Seeing the Prince’s attitude, he hadn’t finished venting his anger at Lei Zhenting. Who knew if he might turn on Ling Tiehan once he came to his senses? Even if the Prince didn’t act directly, the manor had plenty of ways to kill an injured Ling Tiehan. But the Princess Consort didn’t want Ling Tiehan dead. If she quarreled with the Prince over it, that wouldn’t end well for any of their subordinates.

Leng Huai hadn’t thought as deeply as Feng Zhiyao. He gave Feng Zhiyao a strange look but found nothing wrong with the suggestion and nodded in agreement. Ling Tiehan nodded: “Many thanks then.”

“No need for thanks, Master Ling. If anything, we should be thanking you,” Feng Zhiyao said sincerely. Whatever his reasons, Ling Tiehan had saved many lives including the Princess Consort’s—that was fact. If Ling Tiehan hadn’t arrived in time, today’s outcome would have been quite uncertain.

After Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao returned to the general’s manor and freshened up, Mo Xiuyao emerged to find Ye Li sitting at the table, staring absently at the meal before her. Though they had just survived a battle that nearly wiped them out, the manor’s servants had dutifully prepared a delicious breakfast, serving it shortly after their return so it would be ready after they cleaned up.

Having just bathed, Ye Li had changed out of her bloodied clothes and washed away the exhaustion and gore from her face, appearing even more beautiful and elegant. Seeing her lost in thought before the meal, Mo Xiuyao frowned in displeasure, instinctively disliking her expression. He quietly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, asking softly, “A’Li, what are you thinking about?”

Ye Li came back to herself and shook her head: “Nothing… We’ve been so tense these past days, I feel a bit lost now that things have relaxed.”

Mo Xiuyao nuzzled her hair apologetically and said gently, “It’s all my fault. A’Li… nothing will trouble you again. From now on, I’ll accompany you in whatever you want to do, alright?” Yes, from now on nothing would cause worry. No one in this world could threaten his A’Li anymore. The Northern Rong were defeated and wouldn’t recover for thirty to fifty years. Lei Zhenting was dead, and most of Xiling’s elite troops remained at Flying Swan Pass. The south still faced Great Chu’s three hundred thousand troops led by Murong Shen and the Southern Marquis. Domestically, with the feuds between the Prince of Zhennan’s manor and the Xiling royal family, Lei Tengfeng would do well just to protect himself. As for Great Chu in the south, Mo Jing Li had been banished, and a child emperor had ascended—real power lay with the court officials and Grand Empress Dowager. They couldn’t stir up much trouble either. From now on… who in the world would dare harm his A’Li?

Ye Li looked at him in surprise. Mo Xiuyao blinked and smiled, “Why is A’Li looking at me like that?”

Ye Li asked, “You plan to withdraw the troops?”

“We’ve fought all we needed to fight. What else is there to do if not withdraw?” Mo Xiuyao smiled.

Ye Li remained silent. She hadn’t expected Mo Xiuyao to be ready to stop so soon. His plans and decisions lately had given her an uneasy feeling. It wasn’t that having ambition was wrong—Mo Xiuyao had the ability and qualifications to vie for the throne, even to unify the realm. But perhaps it was these increasingly brutal battles that had given her an uncontrollable aversion to war. She had seen far too many deaths these past few years.

Holding Ye Li in his arms, Mo Xiuyao’s handsome face bore a gentle smile. He lightly patted her back and said softly, “Is A’Li tired? Why don’t you rest a while, hmm?”

Ye Li nodded unconsciously, leaning against Mo Xiuyao as her eyes gradually closed—she was indeed quite tired. Once Ye Li was sound asleep, Mo Xiuyao carefully lifted her and carried her to the inner chamber bed. Bending down to look at her delicate brows still slightly furrowed in sleep, Mo Xiuyao tenderly traced her features with his hand, chuckling softly: “Silly A’Li, how could This Prince not know what you’re thinking? Besides… if This Prince had finished fighting, wouldn’t that make Mo Xiaobao a wastrel?”

After gently tucking Ye Li in, Mo Xiuyao turned and left. In the outer chamber lay a piece of official paper with some hastily written lines, apparently forgotten by their author in their hurry:

The battles cease on Huai’s frontier, roads open again, 

Wild crows come and go, crying in the cold void. 

Pitiful white bones pile in lonely graves, 

All for generals seeking glory in war.

Using this poem to describe the Mo family army might be somewhat biased, but it reveals the writer’s view and feelings about the current situation.

Ye Li was indeed exhausted. When she woke up, the sky outside had already darkened again. If not for Mo Xiuyao worrying that going too long without food would be bad for her health, she might have slept even longer.

Ye Li sat up and looked at Mo Xiuyao, who sat serenely by her bedside exactly as he had before she fell asleep. She knew he hadn’t rested at all. In truth, Ye Li and Flying Swan Pass’s defenders weren’t the only ones who had endured this grueling day. When Mo Xiuyao heard mid-journey that Ye Li remained at Flying Swan Pass, he rushed back with his men at full gallop, followed by the great battle with Lei Zhenting. It was impossible that he wasn’t tired.

“Why haven’t you rested?” Ye Li asked softly, her delicate brows furrowed.

Mo Xiuyao shook his head with a smile and said gently, “Watching A’Li, I’m not tired… A’Li has slept for a long while, you should get up and have some dinner.”

Ye Li gazed wordlessly at the tenderly smiling man before her, as if his earlier dark rage toward Lei Zhenting and Ling Tiehan had never existed. Seeing her silence, Mo Xiuyao’s smile faded slightly. He reached out to pull her into his embrace and asked softly, “Is A’Li angry with me?”

Ye Li was quiet for a moment, then sighed slightly and shook her head: “No, I know… you’re right.”

Mo Xiuyao also fell silent, and after a while looked at Ye Li with a smile: “You just can’t accept it, right? Yes, this time… I did it deliberately. How could those incompetents under Mo Jingli truly hurt me? Actually… I had this plan from the moment A’Li had someone give me the list of Cangmang Mountain spies. I understand Mo Jingli. I knew what he would do when pushed to desperation. You see, A’Li, everything has developed exactly as I imagined. Only… I didn’t expect you wouldn’t heed my words and leave Flying Swan Pass. If Ling Tiehan hadn’t arrived in time… Fortunately, sparing Ling Tiehan’s life proved to be the right choice…” Mo Xiuyao’s hand around Ye Li’s waist trembled slightly, but his eyes gazing down at her and his soft voice still held a faint smile. This stubborn smile only made Ye Li’s heart ache more.

She couldn’t blame this man, Ye Li thought silently as she leaned against Mo Xiuyao’s chest. No matter how many of his actions and thoughts she couldn’t agree with or accept, she could never blame him. This wasn’t his fault—he wanted revenge, wanted to protect his family and loved ones, wanted the Prince of Ding’s manor to continue in this world, and wanted to achieve the greatest gains with minimal losses. From any perspective, he wasn’t wrong.

Mo Xiuyao held Ye Li gently, kissing her hair as he said softly with a smile: “How I wish I could hide A’Li in the safest, most beautiful palace in the world, where no one could see you, where no one could ever harm A’Li. But I can’t do that… I know A’Li wouldn’t like that. So… I want A’Li to stand beside me, and face everything together, even the things A’Li doesn’t like. A’Li, please don’t hate me, alright?”

Even knowing you hate these things, I would rather tear open the most cruel aspects before your eyes to show you. Because this is who Mo Xiuyao is… Mo Xiuyao is not some refined noble young master, nor an otherworldly immortal—Mo Xiuyao is an asura who crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Though A’Li was never a delicate flower raised in a greenhouse, the depths of A’Li’s heart would forever remain so kind and gentle. How could she like such bloody, cruel calculations and battlefields flowing with blood? But… what could be done? Mo Xiuyao only wanted her by his side.

“Xiuyao…” Ye Li sighed softly, raising her head to look into his eyes, gentle yet full of stubborn determination. She lightly touched his snow-white hair and said quietly: “It’s not your fault, why would I blame you? I’m just… a little sad, that’s all. I want to convince myself their sacrifices were worthwhile. Even if Flying Swan Pass’s two hundred thousand defenders all died, at least it could shorten years of warfare. During that time… how many more soldiers and civilians would be sacrificed, far beyond two hundred thousand? Besides… what does my sadness count for? I don’t even know most of their names, how deeply can I truly grieve for them? With so many people, even if I grieved myself to death, one person’s feelings wouldn’t amount to even half a quarter-hour per person. And my little bit of sadness, what could it mean to them? It’s just… each of them had family, loved ones, children—their pain will last a lifetime. So… Xiuyao, I’m fine. I’m just a little sad. I’ll be better soon.”

Mo Xiuyao lowered his head, gently patting Ye Li’s back to silently comfort her. Seeing everything so clearly made Ye Li seem more fragile than ever before. Mo Xiuyao held her in his arms, his thin lips bearing stubborn persistence and painful pity.

“I’m sorry, A’Li,” Mo Xiuyao said heavily. He felt sorry for her, but he wouldn’t admit being wrong. Like Ye Li, as supreme commander of the Mo family army, he hadn’t made any wrong decisions. Even if the Mo army couldn’t arrive in time today, even if all of Flying Swan Pass’s soldiers died, even if Xiling troops rampaged within Flying Swan Pass, no one could say the Prince of Ding’s decision was wrong. He led the Mo army, vastly outnumbered by the enemy, against attacks from three countries, and this time achieved complete victory in a single battle, greatly shortening the time of warfare. As a ruler, he was correct.

The only one he had wronged was his wife, his beloved. He made her bear so much pain and difficult choices that she should never have had to bear, made her send to their deaths the Qilin Guards she had trained and built herself. From beginning to end, Mo Xiuyao had only wronged one person—Ye Li, his most beloved wife whom he had once determined to forever protect and keep happy without worries.

“It’s alright,” Ye Li said softly, her heart tangled in countless knots. No matter what he did, she would forgive him, Ye Li smiled faintly in her heart. It seemed that sometimes without her knowing, she had come to love him so deeply.

“A’Li, it will never happen again.”

“Alright, I understand.” The faint pain in her heart might never disappear, but it would gradually fade. Life never had anything perfect, and now, things were already very good. A man who could command the world yet fretted over her moods, several clever and lovable children, a group of sincere relatives who always thought of her, and a band of loyal friends and subordinates. What more could one ask for in life? Perhaps some of her and Mo Xiuyao’s thoughts would never align—like how she disliked schemes and plots while he excelled at defeating people without paying the price. Or how she always believed in the preciousness of life, while he didn’t mind using uninvolved people’s lives as bargaining chips. But he would yield for her, and she would accept him. That was enough.

“Your Highness, Princess Consort. Your subject requests an audience.” Feng Zhiyao’s voice came from outside.

Soon after, Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li appeared together in the outer reception hall. Feng Zhiyao wasn’t alone—Leng Huai, Han Mingyue, He Su, and even General Yuan Pei who had fainted that morning were all present. Seeing the two arrive together, Feng Zhiyao secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Feng Zhiyao wasn’t just Mo Xiuyao’s childhood brother and friend but had also become Ye Li’s good friend over the years. The Third Young Master Feng naturally understood these two people better than most. He had originally thought there would certainly be some conflict between them upon returning this time, yet unexpectedly nothing had happened. Feng Zhiyao couldn’t help but look at Ye Li a few more times, his estimation of her rising even higher.

Only after receiving Mo Xiuyao’s warning glance did Feng Zhiyao clear his throat and withdraw his examining gaze, smiling: “Your Highness, Princess Consort, pardon the intrusion.”

Mo Xiuyao gave him a faint glance: “So you know, what are you doing here so late?”

Ye Li helplessly tugged at his sleeve, then smiled at Yuan Pei: “General, are you feeling better?”

Yuan Pei hurriedly replied: “Thanks to the Princess Consort’s concern, this humble official is fine. It’s just that I’m getting old and useless—I’ve made a fool of myself before the Princess Consort.” Ye Li smiled: “How can the General say that? We were greatly aided by the General’s leadership this time.”

“A’Li speaks truth. General Yuan, please sit,” Mo Xiuyao said smoothly with a smile after seeing Ye Li glance his way. “None of you have had dinner yet, right? Why don’t we eat together?”

Feng Zhiyao silently rolled his eyes: You mean you and the Princess Consort haven’t eaten yet, right?

With the Prince personally inviting them, naturally, no one could refuse. In a moment, maids brought out prepared evening meals. All the dishes were very light—everyone had been too exhausted these past days to eat properly. For once, everyone’s appetite opened up, and they enjoyed a sumptuous and delicious dinner.

After the maids cleared away the remains, Mo Xiuyao asked: “Coming so late, do you have an urgent business?”

Leng Huai stood and said: “Reporting to Your Highness, we wanted to ask… how should we handle the Xiling prisoners?” This wasn’t truly urgent, but they had been dragged here by Feng Zhiyao, who was now pretending to be contentedly full and dead to the world. Leng Huai had no choice but to bring up this matter.

Though not urgent, it wasn’t a small matter. The captured Xiling soldiers numbered nearly one hundred thousand. Such a large number would be a major problem anywhere, and dealing with them would be troublesome no matter what.

Hearing this, Mo Xiuyao’s eyes flashed. He was about to speak but paused when he saw Ye Li beside him. After pondering for a moment, he said: “Send people to return them to Xiling. We won’t ask much. Fifty taels of silver per soldier.”

Leng Huai hesitated: “Will Xiling agree?” Fifty taels wasn’t much, but it added up to a huge sum for tens of thousands of men. Moreover, raising an army of one hundred thousand men wasn’t difficult. It certainly wouldn’t cost five or six million taels of silver—this wasn’t a very profitable deal for Xiling.

Mo Xiuyao gave a cold laugh: “Announce this matter to the world—they’ll have to agree whether they want to or not. If they still don’t agree… then send everyone north to farm the land.” The north had been ravaged by the Northern Rong and desperately needed people to reclaim and farm the land.

Leng Huai thought about it and couldn’t help but smile too. The Prince of Ding was truly resourceful. “Your subject obeys.”