The battle was finally over. Though a faint scent of blood still lingered over Flying Swan Pass after the fierce battle, there was already a hint of its former tranquility. The streets and city gates were empty of the usual leisurely comings and goings of people. Mo family army soldiers silently cleared the battlefield and washed away the blood stains from the streets. Some of this blood belonged to their comrades, some to their enemies. Mixed, no one could tell whose blood was whose, but both sides had paid an extremely cruel price.

In the early morning, Ye Li led Qin Feng, Zhuo Jing, and Wei Lin out of Flying Swan Pass to a hillside not far away. When they arrived, many people were already waiting there. Most of those present were wounded, some quite seriously. Every face bore a heavy, solemn expression. This was where over a thousand Qilin Guards would rest eternally. Seeing Ye Li arrive, the hundred-plus surviving Qilin Guards immediately stood straight and saluted in unison: “Greetings, Princess Consort.”

Ye Li nodded gravely and said, “No need for ceremony.”

“Thank you, Princess Consort, for personally attending our brothers’ funeral,” a middle-aged man with a weathered face stepped forward and bowed respectfully to Ye Li. He was the only surviving Qilin Guard squad leader from the defense of Flying Swan Pass. Though Ye Li couldn’t remember all the Qilin Guards’ names, she knew most of these squad leaders. Many were outstanding members of the first batch of trained Qilin Guards, and Ye Li had personally taught many of their skills. She remembered this middle-aged man was called Li Yu. Though he shared a name with the refined and talented Last Emperor Li of Southern Tang, he was a completely different person. Even when facing his fellow soldiers, he rarely spoke, so taking the initiative to speak to Ye Li now was quite unusual.

Ye Li’s lips curved in a faint bitter smile. “They were all trained by me, how could I not come? I… I’m sorry.”

The usually taciturn man’s eyes immediately reddened as he looked at Ye Li and choked out: “No, this isn’t the Princess Consort’s fault. As soldiers… being wrapped in horsehide on the battlefield is an honor. It’s just that we…” Ye Li looked out at the scene—compared to the once-immaculate and extraordinary Qilin Guards, these hundred-odd scarred soldiers now appeared somewhat desolate and bleak. Over a hundred men who had never taken a step back even against thousands of troops now stood with reddened eyes, gazing at the neat rows of graves before them. Within lay their brothers-in-arms who had faced life and death together. Perhaps just two days ago they had gathered to chat and laugh, talking about their families, wives, children, and futures. Now they were separated by the gulf between life and death.

Ye Li sighed softly and walked to a small clearing at the front of the burial ground. She bowed three times respectfully to the graves and said in a deep voice: “The sacrificial wine!”

Behind her, Qin Feng and Wei Lin stepped forward one after another, carrying wine jars to the front of the burial ground. They sprinkled wine before each grave, and the Qilin Guards watching followed their lead, moving along the graves sprinkling wine.

From the clearing in front came the low, plaintive sound of a zither. People turned to see Ye Li seated on the ground, a simple ebony zither across her knees. Her delicate fingers plucked the strings, the mournful music flowing slowly from her fingertips. The ancient melody she played carried additional notes of desolation and grief. This was the Soul-Summoning Song.

Ye Li’s zither skills were not supreme, and her face showed no trace of sorrow. But the music flowing from her fingers let everyone feel that faint melancholy and regret. Yes, not pain but regret. Regret that she couldn’t have done better, and even more, regret that so many excellent warriors had died in such a way.

Suddenly, the music changed, becoming more intense, each string seeming to pluck at everyone’s heartstrings. People couldn’t help but recall days gone by—the pride and joy of first joining the Qilin Guards, countless grueling training sessions, and those life-and-death moments shared, the passion of charging into battle together.

“A man must know the weight of national gratitude, dying in battle is an honorable end!” someone shouted deeply. “Brothers… farewell!”

“A toast!” Everyone raised their wine jars and drained them in one gulp to the graves before them. In the music, countless tears flowed with the wine, moistening this earth where so many heroes slept. Brothers… fare thee well… take care on your journey!

As the song ended, Ye Li stood and casually placed the ebony zither on the ground beside her. Looking at the tear-streaked faces of the soldiers before her, she said in a deep voice: “Li Yu!”

The middle-aged commander called Li Yu stepped forward and respectfully said: “Your servant is here!”

Ye Li looked at him and said gravely: “From now on, you are the Deputy Commander of the Qilin Guards. This Princess orders you to lead the Qilin Guards back to recover and return to Li City immediately once everyone’s wounds have healed. Within one year, This Princess wants to see a complete Qilin Guard. Can you… accomplish this?”

Li Yu was startled for a moment. Meeting Ye Li’s firm, clear gaze, he quickly responded loudly: “Your servant accepts the command! Your servant guarantees that within a year… we will present the Princess Consort with a complete Qilin Guard again!” Ye Li’s order had truly shocked Li Yu. The position of Qilin Guard Deputy Commander was extremely prestigious and important. Even the Third Young Master Xu, who had been with the Qilin Guards for years and whose abilities and battlefield ferocity were first-rate, and who was moreover the Prince Consort’s cousin, was only one of the twelve Qilin Guard squad leaders. For the Princess Consort to promote him to Deputy Commander at this time…

Seeming to perceive Li Yu’s thoughts, Ye Li said calmly: “Those who have departed were all your brothers. This Princess hopes you can personally fill their positions again.”

“Your servant accepts the command!” Li Yu called out loudly, his tone now carrying more excitement. Ye Li nodded and said: “Everyone’s wounds haven’t healed yet. Return and rest early.”

“Yes, we take our leave!” Li Yu responded with a nod, turning to lead the hundred-plus Qilin Guard soldiers back to Flying Swan Pass.

“Princess Consort, we should return too,” Zhuo Jing said softly. Ye Li shook her head and said: “I want to stay a while longer.” Ye Li sat down again on the ground, placing the ebony zither across her knees and playing absently. There was no fixed melody, just intermittent playing that started and stopped, making people feel even more heartache in this desolate white burial ground.

On a height not far from the Qilin Guards’ graves, Mo Xiuyao and Han Mingyue stood side by side. Looking down at an angle, they could see the white-robed woman sitting in the white burial ground, her expression serene. Han Mingyue glanced at the snow-white-haired Mo Xiuyao beside him and said: “If you’re worried, why not go over and look?”

Mo Xiuyao gave him a sidelong glance and said calmly: “This Prince knows what he’s doing.”

Han Mingyue smiled silently. By now he had to admire Mo Xiuyao’s excellent judgment. In this matter, rationally speaking it truly wasn’t Mo Xiuyao’s fault, but emotionally, probably anyone else would have wanted to slap him. But from start to finish, Ye Li hadn’t spoken a single word of blame toward Mo Xiuyao. Whether she truly understood or simply accepted everything about Mo Xiuyao, this was Mo Xiuyao’s great fortune. Similarly, it was probably because of having such a Ye Li that Mo Xiuyao hadn’t become more extreme.

During these years, though Han Mingyue had little direct interaction with Mo Xiuyao, he still paid constant attention to him. After all, besides his only blood brother, Mo Xiuyao was the person Han Mingyue valued most. Several times over these years, Han Mingyue had vaguely sensed Mo Xiuyao losing control, but somehow each time at the edge of losing control, Mo Xiuyao had steadied himself again. All of this had an enormous connection to Ye Li.

Just like last night, when Leng Huai brought up the matter of the Xiling soldier prisoners, Han Mingyue sensed Mo Xiuyao’s killing intent. But it was controlled perfectly in just an instant. Then he methodically instructed Leng Huai how to handle these prisoners, as if the Prince of Ding truly was so merciful and broad-minded. Heaven knows Mo Xiuyao was never one to treat enemies kindly. At that time, among those present, only Ye Li could influence Mo Xiuyao’s emotions. So in that moment, Han Mingyue began to understand why Feng Zhiyao was so concerned about the relationship between Mo Xiuyao and Ye Li. If Mo Xiuyao was a peerless sword with an exposed blade, Ye Li was the scabbard. If Mo Xiuyao was a superior thousand-li horse, Ye Li was the reins that could control it. Between the two, neither could be missing.

Han Mingyue lowered his head and chuckled: “Xiuyao, you’re past the age of being willful. Others’ tolerance isn’t for you to squander. At least… shouldn’t you offer a toast at the Qilin Guards’ graves? These people were all personally trained by the Princess Consort… a type of troops completely different from what you and I know. I always feel that Princess Consort’s feelings toward these Qilin Guards are different. This time, for your plan, half the Qilin Guards were sacrificed at once. If someone destroyed half your Prince of Ding’s manor at once, would you be happy?”

Mo Xiuyao was silent for a long time, then suddenly said deeply: “I hate the Qilin Guards!”

Han Mingyue was startled, pondered for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh: “Do you hate the Qilin Guards, or do you hate that the Princess Consort cares especially for others or other things? The Princess Consort is different from other women, you should have understood that long ago, no? Go… don’t say you hate the Qilin Guards. They are all the most excellent, most admirable warriors. Don’t tell me you don’t feel regret.”

As Prince of Ding, Mo Xiuyao was a peerless sword of the age. He was naturally destined to love all elite soldiers, so how could he not like the Qilin Guards, the elite among elites? To tell the truth, Mo Xiuyao had still underestimated the Qilin Guards’ combat ability before this, and he hadn’t even thought Ye Li would station the Qilin Guards at Flying Swan Pass. After all, compared to hundreds of thousands of troops, a force of just over a thousand men seemed too small no matter how elite. Originally Mo Xiuyao had prepared for Flying Swan Pass to be completely wiped out, but unexpectedly it was this force he hadn’t factored into his calculations that saved all of Flying Swan Pass.

After another long silence, Mo Xiuyao finally walked toward Ye Li.

“Xiuyao.” Behind him, Han Mingyue suddenly called out.

Mo Xiuyao turned back, looking at him with a questioning raised eyebrow. Han Mingyue asked, “We’re still brothers, right?”

Mo Xiuyao gave a slight nod, then leaped toward Ye Li’s direction.

Watching his hurrying figure disappear, Han Mingyue couldn’t help but chuckle. Who could have imagined that Mo Xiuyao—once the dream of countless maidens, carefree as if untouched by tender emotions—would have such anxious moments now? Thinking of himself, the Young Master Mingyue looked toward the distance, an elegant, serene smile of acceptance and relief curving his lips.

Mo Xiuyao landed lightly not far behind Ye Li, not stirring the slightest sound. Qin Feng and the others glanced at Mo Xiuyao and silently withdrew. Mo Xiuyao watched Ye Li sitting on the ground, quietly walked over, and sat down just as she had.

“Xiuyao?” Ye Li stopped playing the zither, asking in confusion: “Didn’t you say Feng San and the others had matters to discuss with you? Why did you come here?”

Mo Xiuyao smiled faintly: “The battle is over. Even the biggest matters can wait a while, can’t they?”

Ye Li smiled and nodded. Now, except for Murong Shen and the Southern Marquis still leading Great Chu’s armies against Xiling in the south, the territories under the Mo family army were peaceful. After thinking for a moment, Ye Li said: “The arrangements for the families of the fallen and severely wounded soldiers…”

Mo Xiuyao took her cool hand in his and said: “These matters can be left to Young Master Qingchen to handle. A’Li needn’t worry. I promise every fallen soldier’s affairs will be properly arranged. The same goes for the Qilin Guards.”

Ye Li smiled and nodded. She wasn’t worried about the Qilin Guards. They already had a very complete system, including compensation for casualties and severe injuries, and with their small numbers, following the regulations would suffice. But the other Mo family forces had casualties in the thousands and tens of thousands, which wouldn’t be easy to handle properly.

Seeing Ye Li’s concern, Mo Xiuyao firmly promised: “I will order all generals to properly handle their soldiers’ posthumous affairs.” Seeing Mo Xiuyao make such a solemn promise, Ye Li couldn’t help but smile: “Of course, I believe you, no need to be so serious. I was just making casual remarks.”

Mo Xiuyao smiled silently. A’Li’s heart was too soft, and she thought too much. But Mo Xiuyao knew she thought these things not for so-called kindness or noble virtue, but because she believed this was simply how things should be done. Many of Ye Li’s ideas clashed with people of this era. For instance, she believed men should respect women, soldiers should protect civilians, the state should care for the families of soldiers who died for the country, and so on. It wasn’t that her beliefs were wrong, but rather that they seemed absurd and difficult to achieve for people of this era. But perhaps he loved precisely this uniqueness about A’Li. Mo Xiuyao knew of her strange experiences and even felt A’Li must have lived more happily in her former world. That’s why he wanted to give her the whole world, to make her even happier than before.

Mo Xiuyao took the ebony zither from Ye Li’s hands and placed it across his knees, beginning to play softly. Mo Xiuyao’s zither skills were far better than Ye Li’s. He played the same Soul-Summoning Song, but in his hands, it carried more passion and heart-stirring desolation. Ye Li listened to him play in a daze, finally unable to hold back her tears.

When the song ended, Mo Xiuyao set aside the zither and pulled her into his embrace, “Cry, A’Li… I’m sorry, it’s all my fault…” Ye Li leaned against Mo Xiuyao’s chest and finally sobbed aloud.

Mo Xiuyao gently patted her back, his half-lowered eyes full of tender love and distress.

As soon as they returned to the general’s manor, they were met by an almost frantic Third Young Master Feng. Seeing them arrive hand in hand, Feng Zhiyao rushed over without regard for protocol, grabbing Mo Xiuyao’s collar and shouting: “Prince of Ding! Where did you run off to?! Do you still want the Prince’s manor or not? Are you going to handle those documents in your study?! More importantly, you called us here saying you had matters to discuss, then disappeared without a trace—what exactly do you want?!” Feng San had reached his limit of frustration and forgot about rank, shouting at Mo Xiuyao.

Feng Zhiyao’s sudden outburst truly startled both Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao. Mo Xiuyao quickly recovered his composure, calmly removing the hand from his collar: “Feng San, speak slowly about whatever’s troubling you.”

Feng Zhiyao gave a cold laugh, “Speak slowly? I’d like to speak slowly, but I have to find someone to speak to first! We just finished fighting, so many matters remain unhandled, and we all put aside our work to hear Your Highness’s instructions, yet couldn’t even find your shadow!”

Hearing this, Ye Li felt somewhat guilty. After all, Mo Xiuyao had run off so willfully to find her. Stepping forward, she said softly to Feng Zhiyao: “Feng San, today’s matter…”

Feng Zhiyao raised his hand: “Princess Consort, no need to speak for him. Moreover… we dare not blame His Highness the Prince of Ding, right? Just venting some frustration, please punish me as you see fit.” One couldn’t blame Feng Zhiyao for wanting to explode. The fighting had just stopped, and it wasn’t just Flying Swan Pass that was busy—everywhere outside Flying Swan Pass was in chaos after nearly a year of warfare. Everyone was busier than during the fighting. Yet the person who should have been busiest was nowhere to be found, and even Han Mingyue, who usually could help, had disappeared somewhere. Feng Zhiyao had fumed at the empty study and mountain of documents for a long time before finally being unable to contain his frustration.

Everyone present except Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao looked at Feng Zhiyao with admiration as if viewing a brave warrior. Daring to shout at the Prince of Ding in public took tremendous courage.

Mo Xiuyao, however, showed an unexpectedly good temper, smiling: “Alright, This Prince understands. Tomorrow morning I guarantee all matters will be handled.”

Feng Zhiyao raised an eyebrow, “Tomorrow morning?”

“Any objections?” Mo Xiuyao asked.

“None.” Feng Zhiyao quickly shook his head. As long as the Prince was willing to work, his efficiency was quite remarkable—how could Feng Zhiyao object?

The group entered the study and sat down. Feng Zhiyao caught his breath before asking: “Your Highness, what did you summon us for this morning?” Now that he had calmed down after drinking some tea, Feng Zhiyao felt he had been somewhat impulsive. His tone when questioning Mo Xiuyao was quite respectful.

Mo Xiuyao pulled Ye Li to sit down and smiled: “Nothing much. Just wanted to discuss handling arrangements for the casualties.”

At this, Feng Zhiyao’s expression also grew serious. Taking out a document from the pile beside him, he said gravely: “In nearly a year of fighting, the total numbers haven’t been tallied yet. But the casualties from Flying Swan Pass are known. The original garrison at Flying Swan Pass, including the Qilin Guards, totaled 237,600 men. Only 13,127 survived, including nineteen officers above the rank of Major who fell, and seven Vice Generals.”

Faced with such devastating losses, even Mo Xiuyao was speechless for a while. In all these years, such a devastating casualty rate was unprecedented except for the Mo family army’s tragedy at Huifeng Valley over a decade ago. And these troops garrisoned at Flying Swan Pass were Mo family army elites, not the newly acquired Chu soldiers. Just one battle was so brutal, not to mention the casualties from the past half year. Roughly estimated, from the siege of the Chu capital until now, the Mo family army had lost at least sixty to seventy thousand elite troops. The originally less than million-strong Mo family elite forces now had only twenty to thirty percent remaining. The rest were former Chu army remnants, the tens of thousands of Chu troops Mo Xiuyao had just acquired, and recruits from the northwest who had only recently entered training.

This war, while not mutually destructive, had exacted an enormous price on all participating sides. No wonder Mo Xiuyao no longer planned to continue attacking Great Chu and Xiling.

Looking at the shocking numbers before them, all three fell silent. The atmosphere grew much heavier. After pondering for a while, Mo Xiuyao said: “Feng San, have people transmit This Prince’s orders. Compensation for every fallen soldier must be distributed without exception. The wounded must also be properly settled. If there are any problems, they can come directly to This Prince.”

Feng Zhiyao hesitated but still nodded. Settling so many dead soldiers and wounded would undoubtedly be an enormous project for the Prince’s manor. But this was indeed what they should do, and all they could do. Let the dead rest in peace.

Ye Li said: “All the silver from exchanging prisoners with Xiling can be used for this. If it’s not enough, you can ask Han Mingshi—just let me know afterward.” Feng Zhiyao hurriedly thanked Ye Li. Mo Xiuyao thought for a moment, then raised an eyebrow: “A’Li needn’t worry. We’ll soon have other income.”

“Other income?” Ye Li raised an eyebrow.

Mo Xiuyao smiled coldly: “Of course. There’s still reparations from Northern Rong, Xiling, and Great Chu.”

Wars weren’t so easily fought—winning didn’t necessarily mean peace of mind but losing meant great misfortune. Since ancient times, the losers either submitted as vassals and paid tribute, or ceded territory and paid reparations—this was customary. Mo Xiuyao had no interest in vassalage and tribute; since it wouldn’t be sincere, there was no need for that show. But reparations were necessary.

Hearing this, Feng Zhiyao couldn’t help but clap and smile: “Your Highness speaks truly. I had forgotten about this matter.”