“I advise you to put that idea away.” Qiao Mu’s words made Mu Mu’s heart sink. He fixed his gaze on Feng Jiu’er, his expression turning grave.

“The mountain bandits here are not the same as those within Bei Mu’s borders.”

“How are they different?” Feng Jiu’er swept her eyes over the surrounding scenery, her thoughts unreadable.

Mu Mu said, “By comparison, the bandits in this region are far more ferocious, and their martial skills are considerably superior.”

“Doesn’t that make them even better?” A great host of highly skilled fighters — she couldn’t even begin to count them!

Feng Jiu’er’s eyes lit up as though she had just laid eyes on a mountain of gold.

If they could be made to serve her, what great undertaking could possibly fail?

“Stop letting your imagination run wild. They won’t submit.” Mu Mu’s expression darkened. “I’m not joking. Don’t entertain such notions.”

“What notions am I entertaining? I have no connections and no money — even if I wanted to, I couldn’t act on it, could I?”

Feng Jiu’er was all smiles, and she took Mu Mu’s warning not the slightest bit to heart.

Though, what she said was not entirely wrong.

Although the Ninth Prince had gifted her a substantial amount of rewards before, and the money was indeed considerable, the kind of wealth required to recruit and muster an army was beyond what anyone could readily imagine.

Even if she truly had the funds, trying to bring these mountain bandits to heel would still be far beyond the realm of possibility.

“This mountain range covers an area of at least half of Bei Mu’s territory. Beyond the peaks themselves, the flat plains region is certainly the size of five city territories combined.”

“That large?” The scale genuinely surprised Feng Jiu’er somewhat.

“That’s a conservative estimate.” Mu Mu, during the years before he enrolled at the Imperial Academy, had traveled to no small number of places.

“Meaning it could actually be even larger?”

The gleam in Feng Jiu’er’s eyes grew even more radiant — they were practically sparkling.

“And the population?”

“Impossible to count.”

“Then why are you so certain no one could ever bring them to heel?” With enough money, why not try? — Even if she really was quite poor.

“Long ago,” Mu Mu said, his gaze drifting to the distance, his voice taking on a slow, drawn-out quality, “a tragedy took place.”

Feng Jiu’er said nothing. Qiao Mu murmured softly, “You mean the extermination of the Zhao Yu people?”

“What is Zhao Yu?” Even Feng Jiu’er could feel the atmosphere around them turning heavy.

“Zhao Yu was a people from the past. Over a hundred years ago, they were the most formidable bandits in this region — and the largest in scale.”

“At that time, the imperial court dispatched a prince who offered a generous sum to persuade them to surrender.”

“The chieftain of Zhao Yu had grown weary of the outlaw life by then, and hoped that the next generation of children could have something better. In the end, he was persuaded, and Zhao Yu submitted to the court.”

Feng Jiu’er had been about to say — wasn’t that a good thing?

But on second thought, her heart turned cold all at once.

If it had been a good thing, why had it become a forbidden subject? Surely the court hadn’t gone back on its word?

“Your guess is not wrong. And the place you now know as Fenghuang City…”

“Fenghuang City was the land the Zhao Yu people once occupied?” Heavens — she had never imagined that Fenghuang City carried such a history.

“Precisely. That prince led the Zhao Yu chieftain and over a hundred of their key figures away, saying they would return to the capital together to receive honors and rewards — but the moment they stepped away, an imperial army surrounded and attacked Zhao Yu’s lands.”

“As for those hundred-odd men, they were drugged along the way, and every last one of them died of poisoning…”

Feng Jiu’er felt her chest clench, her breath catching as though the air itself had suddenly grown scarce.

Despicable. Truly, utterly despicable.

An entire people — with widows, orphans, and helpless children among them — how could the court have brought itself to do such a thing?

“Jiu’er, are you feeling unwell?” Qiao Mu grew worried — she was pale, and something looked wrong.

“I’m fine. It’s just… a little… shocking.”

Feng Jiu’er tightened her grip on her own palm and exhaled a long, slow breath. “I’m fine. Go on.”

She looked at Mu Mu and asked again, “Does Zhao Yu still have any descendants today?”

“It is said that a group of Zhao Yu’s people survived the disaster back then. However, every one of them left the land of Zhao Yu and scattered throughout this region.”

Feng Jiu’er’s gaze drifted once more to the distant mountain ranges.

No wonder Mu Mu had said just now that unifying this place was impossible — because everyone feared that what happened to Zhao Yu would happen again.

The imperial court of over a hundred years ago was not the present Zhan Dynasty, nor was it the Di Dynasty of the preceding generation.

Whoever had held power in that era’s dynasty — she did not know.

And that prince who had been dispatched — truly despicable beyond all measure.

How many Zhao Yu people had once lived within the vast expanse of Fenghuang City?

An extermination that spared not even children, not even the elderly, not even women without the strength to bind a chicken.

She closed her eyes, and it was as though she could see a crowd of innocent children being slaughtered without mercy.

She opened them at once — she dared not imagine it. The image that rose in her mind was too harrowing.

“All right — just ahead is the entrance into the mountain ranges. Everyone be careful.” Mu Mu said suddenly.

He pulled back on the reins and glanced at Feng Jiu’er. “Although we don’t need to venture deep into the mountains, we will still pass through part of the range. There are bandits everywhere in there — it is extremely dangerous.”

“Be careful. Protect yourself.”

“Understood.” Feng Jiu’er touched the cold blade strapped to her leg — the one Jiuqing had returned to her only yesterday — then cast another glance toward the entrance of the mountain ranges.

In truth, she had not the slightest wish to harm the bandits here.

She could only hope that they, too, would cause no trouble — so that both sides might pass in peace.

Mu Mu rode to the rear to attend to arrangements.

When Feng Jiu’er looked back, she could still see Jiuqing not far behind her.

All along the road, he had ridden at a measured distance behind her, and for an entire day he might not speak a single word.

Since the moment she had begun to suspect she had developed certain feelings for him, Feng Jiu’er had rarely taken the initiative to seek out Jiuqing for conversation.

Because of this, Jiuqing had become even more of an outsider within the group.

Even when they rested, he would find somewhere to sit alone, eating the provisions that Long Eleven had brought over to him.

Still, though Jiuqing was cold, Long Eleven seemed to get along with him well enough…

Jiu’er’s hand clenched tight. She turned immediately to face forward and did not dare look back again.

What was this? She had told herself to stop paying attention to him — yet she had already snuck several more glances without even realizing it.

The moment anything connected to him crossed her mind, she fell straight into it without being able to help herself.

No — this was too dangerous. She had to stop at once.

“Zhuiyue, go!”

With a single command, Zhuiyue carried her swiftly forward, and in the blink of an eye she had reached Xuegu and Tuoba Keyan’s side.

“Why have you come up here? Just ahead is the entrance into the mountain ranges — you should go to the back.” Xuegu’s brow furrowed.

“With all of you here, what could possibly happen?” Feng Jiu’er laughed it off. “I just came up to take in the scenery.”

Xuegu pressed her lips together and looked back.

Once Jiu’er had ridden forward, Jiuqing had also moved quietly to a position not far behind her.

With him there, Xuegu was in truth at ease.

She gave a nod at last and said, “You may take in the scenery, but you are not to go wandering off on your own. Understood?”