The subordinate general Zhahe who followed Prince Su Qile of the Wuluo tribe, along with his nearby personal guards, all hailed from the Nanyan tribe. They had always upheld an iron-blooded temperament of preferring to die in battle rather than submit. If Su Qile had not fallen into Qi hands, they should have fought to mutual destruction.

Zhahe had never felt the golden blade in his hand so heavy, pressing down until he could barely lift his wrist. His expression grave, under the watchful eyes of the nearby Qi officer Duan Rong, he slowly lowered his blade.

“Zhahe!”

Hearing only Su Qile’s great shout, Zhahe’s arm trembled. He suddenly raised his head to see the prince bound by a long whip, prostrate on the ground, while that masked young Qi man sat on horseback gripping the whip’s handle.

“You are a warrior of the Nanyan tribe! You are my subordinate general! If you lower your blade today, do you think these Qi people will spare me?” Su Qile glared at him furiously from the dust. “Pick up your blade! How could we men of Danqiu fear death! Today I have suffered this great humiliation and have no face to return to the royal court to see my father the king!”

“I only wish that my death today can be exchanged for the day when my Danqiu iron cavalry tramples through the gates of Great Qi!”

Su Qile had come here using Aduorong’s death as a pretext, originally intending to test Qi’s bottom line and scout Yongzhou’s city defenses. His strategists understood Song Song very thoroughly and were certain that Song Song would absolutely not dare to rashly provoke war. That was why Su Qile had only brought the advance army, but he was not entirely unprepared—at Juhan Pass he had a great general under his command with troops ready to deploy. If not for Yang Tianzhe’s suddenly appearing rebel army interfering, he would not have been trapped front and rear.

The garrison at Juhan Pass feared that Yang Tianzhe and the Yongzhou army were conspiring to encircle Su Qile, so they never dared advance. Su Qile also did not know that an advisor had joined Qin Jixun’s side, causing the Qin and Wei duo, who had always been constrained by Song Song, to actually dare to gamble with Song Song’s life and strike preemptively.

Su Qile was ultimately young and impetuous. His calculations were used on Song Song, but Song Song died in his great tent.

“Prince!”

Zhahe cried out loudly, his eyes turning red as he raised his blade and thrust upward, piercing through a Qi soldier’s chest. “Warriors of Danqiu! No surrender!”

Ni Su’s left shoulder was in severe pain, hurting until her entire forehead was covered in sweat. She leaned against the person behind her, the sounds of slaughter endless in her ears, banners swaying chaotically in the wind.

Under Xu Hexue’s mask, those eyes looked down at Su Qile below. He applied slight pressure with his wrist, clamped his legs against the horse’s belly, and the white horse immediately galloped forward at full speed.

Zhahe wanted to sever the long whip but was blocked by layer upon layer of human walls. Su Qile was dragged along, half his face scraped raw by the coarse dust and sand.

Qin Jixun had just ridden into the formation when the white horse brushed past him. The whip was tossed into his hands and he instinctively grasped it. Looking back, he saw blood stains mottling the snow-white horse’s back.

Blood was still dripping from the sleeve edge of that masked young man. Qin Jixun’s heart jumped, but then he saw the youth raise his sword and cleanly shatter a barbarian’s black armor.

“Duan Rong! You escort Young Master Ni and the others out!”

Qin Jixun immediately gave the order.

“Sons of Great Qi, charge!”

Wei Dechang rode close behind, raising his blade and shouting loudly.

The soldiers of Great Qi came shouting into this mountain hollow, scattering the neatly arrayed black clouds. The barbarian cavalry fell one by one from their horse backs, the cries between the two armies shaking the heavens.

Xu Hexue rode out of the military formation. He was almost bathed in blood from head to toe—some barbarian blood, and some his own. His vermillion robes had become even deeper in color due to the soaking blood stains. Blood droplets clung to his pale neck, sliding down along his veins into his collar.

Behind him, dust rolled. The sounds of slaughter on the battlefield grew more and more distant, while the sound of galloping hooves grew clearer and clearer.

“Ni Su.”

He called to the person in his arms, his voice tight.

“Mm.”

Ni Su’s reaction was very sluggish, but she instinctively responded to him.

Perhaps it was the bitter wind blowing painfully against her ears—her consciousness grew increasingly unclear. She struggled to raise her eyes in his embrace, seeing only clear daylight falling on his mask, glinting with cold light.

“I’m truly fine, so you must not blame yourself in your heart. I came to make you feel somewhat better, but I also came as a person of Qi.”

To seize back the initiative from Su Qile’s hands, to legitimately preserve Yang Tianzhe and his rebel army, there was only one road they could take—borrowing Su Qile’s hand to kill Song Song. And the only person who could kill Song Song in Su Qile’s tent was Xu Hexue.

But the pain Xu Hexue had to endure because of this, only Ni Su knew.

She also understood clearly that if they lost this opportunity and Song Song did not die, then the lives of Qin Jixun and Wei Dechang could not be preserved.

“But you still… suffered.”

Ni Su hurt until her lips trembled. Her fingers moved slightly, wanting to touch his arm, but she could not lift them no matter what.

Blood had almost soaked through the wrist guards binding his sleeves. Without looking, she knew that underneath must be chapped abrasions. Although he had not used sorcery when killing Su Qile, that sandstorm that made seeing nearly impossible was caused by him casting spells to conceal himself.

Because she was present, he did not have to bear greater risk of having his ghostly body discovered, but this could not allow him to avoid punishment from the Netherworld.

Xu Hexue was very silent. All around, the wind blew. He barely lowered his eyes, only to discover she was leaning against his chest, eyes already closed.

He instinctively raised his hand, his ice-cold fingers sensing her warm breath.

The blood-stained long sword shattered into luminous dust, bit by bit merging into his body. He moved his finger joints numbly, looking at her with those eyes beneath his mask.

Slowly,

his arms drew together, encircling her waist.

She lay unconscious, unaware that he was holding her so tightly like this, and could not hear the wind howling across this plain.

Xu Hexue lowered his head, burying it in the hollow of her neck.

Like embracing the world’s most precious treasure.

The white horse galloped freely, letting out joyful snorting sounds, its silver-gray mane flying in wild disarray.

Very few soldiers remained in the Qin family army camp. Fan Jiang was chatting idly with the cook by the fire pit where meat was stewing when he suddenly heard the sound of hoofbeats. Turning his head, he saw a white horse charge into the military camp. Fixing his eyes on the two people on horseback, he immediately rose with his crutch. “Young master!”

Fan Jiang hurried closer, only then discovering that Ni Su’s face was covered in blood and she had lost consciousness. Startled, he anxiously asked, “What happened to Miss Ni?”

“Her shoulder is injured.”

Xu Hexue dismounted first, then immediately lifted Ni Su down and walked quickly into the tent.

“Old Ma, help boil some hot water!”

Fan Jiang called back to the cook who was watching from not far away.

Qingqiong was dozing in the tent. Hearing the sound of the tent flap being lifted, he startled awake. Raising his head, he saw Xu Hexue carrying Ni Su inside and placing her on the bamboo bed within.

“Miss Ni…”

Qingqiong hurriedly stood up.

Fan Jiang came in with his crutch, leading a medical orderly. That military medical orderly looked at the woman on the bamboo bed and said carefully, “To examine this injury I must remove clothing, I… I cannot presume to offend this young lady…”

Xu Hexue clearly felt that the abrasions on his knees had also appeared. He endured the pain without showing it, sat down by the bedside, removed his mask, revealing a pale face.

“Bring your medicine chest here.”

Xu Hexue’s voice was soaked with endured hoarseness.

That medical orderly quickly handed his prepared medicine chest to Qingqiong, then said, “First see if it’s an abrasion. Treat the abrasion first. If there’s damage to tendons and bones, that will take some time to heal. I’ll write a prescription shortly…”

“Well, let’s go out first.”

Fan Jiang and the medical orderly exchanged a glance, then gestured to Qingqiong who had set down the medicine chest.

The military tent quieted for a moment. Xu Hexue removed his wrist guards—the wound rubbed by the fabric only lessened the pain by a fraction. A lamp still burned in the tent, lit by Ni Su before she left.

Xu Hexue extended his hand. His fingertips had just touched her collar when he paused, seeing her brow still tightly furrowed even in unconscious sleep. His fingertips trembled lightly as he pulled open half her collar.

Her originally fair and lustrous shoulder was covered with a glaring patch of bruising. The bright candlelight illuminated the fine strands of hair by her ear, lightly brushing along her neck against her collarbone, further accentuating the fragility of the blood vessels beneath the delicate skin of her neck.

Above the bruising, the abrasion was even more severe.

Xu Hexue took out a medicine bottle, using a bamboo strip to extremely gently apply ointment to her injury. Perhaps the ointment was too cold—her shoulder trembled in her sleep.

“It hurts…”

She murmured softly.

It was not only the pain of the abrasion, but more so the pain of contused tendons and bones.

Her reddened eye corners unconsciously welled with tears. Xu Hexue’s fingers tightened around the bamboo strip. His movements applying the ointment became even lighter, then he suddenly leaned down.

The scent of the medicine was very close. Her neck and shoulders were like delicate jade, making that large patch of bruising and abrasion appear all the more shocking.

Xu Hexue gently blew on it.

Cool wind brushed across Ni Su’s shoulder. She involuntarily shrank back, struggling to half-open her eyes. Candlelight bright, and his pale cheek was close at hand.

“Xu Ziling.”

Luminous dust floated. She called out numbly.

Xu Hexue paused, raising a pair of eyes, his blood-pale lips parting slightly: “Does it hurt very much?”

“Mm.”

Ni Su didn’t know why her nose suddenly felt sour. Feeling somewhat wronged, she used the hand she could still lift to grab his blood-stained sleeve, but quickly closed her eyes again.

She had only briefly regained consciousness for a moment, yet her fingers never released his sleeve.

When Fan Jiang and Qingqiong reentered the tent, Xu Hexue had already tidied Ni Su’s collar for her. He used the hot water Qingqiong brought to dampen a cloth, slowly wiping away the waxy yellow mottled face powder and blood stains from her face.

Her fingers kept their grip, so he could only sit by the bedside, going nowhere.

Occasionally hearing her sleep talk, he would raise his eyes to stare at her for quite a while.

“General Xu, have some tea.”

Qingqiong brought hot tea brewed with reed flower dew. Only when Xu Hexue reached out to receive it did he notice the half-exposed wound beneath his sleeve. Qingqiong immediately widened his jet-black eyes. “General Xu, how did you get injured…”

Could ghosts also be wounded by weapons?

“It’s nothing.”

Xu Hexue lowered his eyelids.

Qingqiong dared not ask further. He watched as Xu Hexue took a few sips of tea then set it aside, still sitting quietly by the bedside. He couldn’t help but shift his gaze to the young woman on the bamboo bed.

“General Xu.”

Qingqiong looked at how she clutched Xu Hexue’s sleeve tightly even in sleep, the blood on her knuckles that had gotten onto the sleeve also wiped clean by Xu Hexue.

He couldn’t help asking: “In your heart, how do you regard Miss Ni?”

How does he regard her?

Being asked this by him, Xu Hexue’s gaze unconsciously fell on Ni Su’s face again. Her features had been wiped completely clean, her eyelids tinged with faint red.

She had nearly died beneath trampling hooves.

Perhaps fierce battle still raged at the mountain hollow beyond the poplar grove, but it could not be heard here. Candlelight flickered in the tent. Xu Hexue sat quietly in this warm yellow light and shadow, listening to her shallow breathing.

After a long while, he spoke:

“I dare not destroy her.”