Half a month later, as the rumble of cannon fire rang out, smoke and flame rose along the Songjiang region outside Yongshan City.

It took Di Wu Ya’s army a mere seven days to break through the defenses of Jiangbei City, the city facing Yongshan across the way.

West of Songjiang, on the fifth day after the fighting began at Yongshan and Jiangbei City, another battle erupted.

The Night Prince’s forces set out from Yì Cheng, their target being Northwest City, the westernmost point beyond Songjiang.

The army that departed from Yì Cheng was led by Feng Jiang and Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Qiongcang’s forces mainly held position in the northwest.

The battle for Yì Cheng and Northwest City finally ended in victory for the Night Prince’s army on the twenty-eighth of the twelfth lunar month.

After two days of regrouping, the troops finally settled down.

New Year’s Eve was normally an important holiday.

If there had been no war, on this day of family reunion, every household would have gathered together to feast and celebrate.

But because of the war, this seemingly ordinary scene had become an unusual rarity.

Feng Jiang and Feng Jiu’er were both of the Feng Clan, and even amid the risks of war, they couldn’t bring themselves to be cruel to their own people.

Where others took a city and either slaughtered without mercy or looted without end, these two siblings, upon entering a city, paid in coin even for food and medicine.

Because of this, the townspeople who’d stayed behind gradually let their guard down.

Early on New Year’s Eve morning, Feng Jiu’er led a group of people out on horseback, leaving the main camp.

Feng Jiu’er simply wanted to make sure that, within her power, the townspeople could at least have one hot meal to eat that day.

The group passed through the nearly deserted streets, splitting off in different directions.

Feng Jiu’er, Xiao Yingtao, and a few others entered a village.

Accompanying them was a couple they’d just met — a husband and wife who sold steamed buns on the street.

The day before, Feng Jiu’er had asked the brothers to seek out some of the townspeople.

Among them were some who ran bun shops, some who ran grain stalls, some who worked as cooks at inns, and some who simply wanted to help out of kindness.

The townspeople helping out were in charge of preparing the food, while the grain itself was purchased uniformly by the army.

Steamed buns, sweet potatoes, beans, flatbreads, pancakes — all simple foods.

Every small group setting out carried piping hot food with them.

A cart rolled along, carrying large wooden crates, each one covered with old cloth to keep the heat from escaping too quickly.

There wasn’t a single trace of war in the village — only a silence so deep it was almost heartbreaking.

The moment the group entered the village, the first thing they saw were three children, shabbily dressed and rather grimy.

The instant the three children spotted people entering the village, they bolted in fright, running deeper into the village.

One child ran into the nearest farmhouse; the other two kept running further in and vanished from sight in an instant.

Looking inward, one could just make out a farm wife hastily shutting the door.

Feng Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao, walking at the front, stopped before the farmhouse.

“Jiu’er.” Xiao Yingtao pulled her gaze back from the farmhouse and turned to look at Feng Jiu’er.

Feng Jiu’er, holding the reins, dismounted.

“Let’s go take a look.”

Xiao Yingtao nodded and dismounted as well.

Jian Yi leapt down too, following behind the two women.

Outside the yard, the old door hung loose and half open.

As Feng Jiu’er stepped inside, she caught sight of a pair of eyes peering out through a gap in the door not far off.

Suddenly, the worn wooden door was pushed open, and the farm wife ran out.

She came before Feng Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao and dropped to her knees with a thud.

“General, please, I beg you! Spare my youngest son, he’s only seven, he doesn’t understand anything!”