During the New Xia court session, Prime Minister Wang Yuan also stated: “The heavens are not favorable. The Yan army’s battle line cannot advance further. The wisest choice would be to retreat to the fortress and wait until spring to resume fighting.”

With no natural defenses on the plains, the best way for the Yan army to spend a peaceful winter would be to withdraw to the Tulun Mountain fortress. Although this meant pulling back more than a hundred li, holding the mountain pass would allow them to safely survive the winter.

This time, even Fu Lingchuan agreed with his view, but Feng Miaojun shook her head, her expression grave: “I’m afraid you’ve all misjudged. If the King of Yan were so conservative, he would have withdrawn in autumn already.”

Everyone verbally agreed but remained skeptical.

However, not long after, new battle reports arrived, confirming Feng Miaojun’s prediction:

The King of Yan, ignoring the advice of his officials, had ordered the army to station in the frontline cities they had captured, waiting for spring to resume the battle.

The Queen had foreseen it correctly.

Regarding the King of Yan’s actions, high-level officials from various countries could only give a thumbs up and sigh: “Rich and willful!”

An army stationed on the frontline in enemy territory for three months was not simply a matter of closing the gates and sleeping soundly. For a force of one hundred thousand, the daily consumption of food and drink for the men and fodder for the animals amounted to astronomical figures, not to mention other expenditures.

Wei had made thorough preparations for this hegemonic war, conducting thousands of military simulations and knowing the Yan army’s routes of advance like the back of their hand. After the war began, all cities along the Yan army’s path implemented a scorched earth policy, ensuring not a single grain of food was left for the enemy. This autumn, the two armies had even fought a battle over the harvesting of wheat fields.

Of course, the seized grain would only last a few days, so the Yan army’s supplies within Wei territory were primarily transported from their own country. Experienced generals knew that the longer the battle line, the less food would reach the frontline. New Xia’s Red General had calculated that even if supplies were transported from the nearest Xi territory across the border to the front, the logistical food supply would become increasingly difficult as the battle line pushed northward. Considering the supplies consumed by the transport teams themselves, the Wei army’s interference and burning of resources, and the damage caused by snow and wind, it would be considered highly efficient if one-tenth of the supplies that set out reached the frontline safely.

At least a ten-to-one loss ratio, not to mention the Wei army’s harassment and plundering based on their home advantage, and so on. The King of Yan dared to issue such an order, relying on nothing but Yan’s tremendous material and financial strength.

“I have money, I can afford to waste it. What of it?”

On the wind-howling plains, forty days passed quickly, officially entering the coldest month of the year.

In such weather, even cultivators were reluctant to move about. The two national armies confronting each other on the plains suffered tremendously, forced to keep their gates tightly closed daily to avoid the severe cold.

Under these circumstances, Yan’s logistics teams undoubtedly suffered more losses, with countless supplies lost along the way. In the frontline Yan-held cities, food began to run short.

At the Wei-Yan front, a brief ceasefire arrived amid the wind and snow.

By now, it had been more than nine months since Yun Ya had last left Ursul. Even with the calm at the front, he hadn’t secretly crossed the border to see her.

As State Preceptor, he couldn’t leave his post during such critical times.

Time passed so quickly. During the last New Year, they had seemingly spent it together. Feng Miaojun sighed softly, causing Princess Han Yue, who was having tea with her, to complain: “Thinking about that man again?”

“As a princess, your speech is so crude,” Feng Miaojun said helplessly. “How do you teach your child?”

Princess Han Yue snorted: “Even Feng Xian doesn’t mind my way, so Your Majesty needn’t worry.” The warm chamber was toasty; both women had removed their heavy outer garments. Feng Miaojun’s appearance still retained the beauty of an eighteen-year-old, requiring no makeup. Her skin was white with a thin layer of blush, so delicate that a light pinch would draw moisture. With phoenix eyes and long eyelashes, a few blinks could enchant anyone’s soul.

Princess Han Yue couldn’t help touching her cheeks, enviously saying: “Being a cultivator is advantageous. Look at me.”

Feng Miaojun looked at her well-maintained fair face and smiled: “You’re only twenty-seven.”

At that moment, Miao Hansheng slipped in to get a piece of cake, and after finishing it, wanted to lead the servants in a snowball fight. Feng Miaojun grabbed him and instructed: “Put on two more layers; it’s very cold outside.”

It was scorchingly hot inside, and Miao Hansheng’s forehead was almost sweating. If it had been his mother speaking, he might have pretended to comply while secretly disobeying, but although the Queen doted on him, her authority was such that he dared not defy her.

So he nodded obediently, taking the outer garments handed by the servants before running out.

Princess Han Yue noticed her staring at the child’s back for a long time before casually saying: “If you like, why not secretly have one of your own and raise it outside first?”

Feng Miaojun was startled: “What?”

Princess Han Yue gestured toward the door: “A child! It’s a pity Feng Xian has already… otherwise, after giving birth, you could entrust the child to me to raise first.” But now that was impossible.

Feng Miaojun rolled her eyes: “You always have such wild ideas!”

Princess Han Yue ate a candied date: “How is it wild? You and Yun… and him are both so beautiful, wouldn’t it be a shame not to have a child?”

“With Wei and Yan at war, how long do you think New Xia can stay uninvolved?” Feng Miaojun scoffed. “At such a critical time, where would I find the energy to have a child?”

Princess Han Yue was even more contemptuous: “Then what were you two doing in previous years?”

Feng Miaojun closed her mouth, feeling there was no reasoning with a woman whose mind was filled only with thoughts of children.

Just then, Chen Dachang rushed in, his face serious: “There are changes at the Wei-Yan front!”

Feng Miaojun took the battle report, opened it, and after a glance, her fine eyebrows furrowed.

Princess Han Yue, seeing her troubled expression, asked softly: “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“A Yan force has circled behind the Wei troops and, coordinating with their comrades at the front, launched a pincer attack to capture several cities.” Feng Miaojun shook her head. “It’s no small force—preliminary estimates exceed thirty thousand men. How did they manage this?”

Setting aside the terrain of the plains and marshes, how could the Yan force possibly circle the front lines to launch a surprise attack on Wei’s rear camp? That would require taking a long detour of a full seven hundred li. Not to mention whether the Yan forces could make such a detour, hadn’t any Wei scouts spotted and reported them along the way?

This was wartime, with scouts active throughout the front lines and rear areas.

“No wonder the King of Yan insisted on keeping troops at the front against all advice—he had prepared this move in advance.” Feng Miaojun mused. “In such weather, the Wei forces never imagined the Yan army would dare to attack, yet they succeeded. The situation at the front may well be reversed.”

Events proved the Queen’s sixth sense to be remarkably accurate.

Before long, more detailed military intelligence arrived, showing the situation was indeed grave.