Qiu Zhen looked carefully and discovered that the walls of the provisions camp had not only been raised higher, but that two deep trenches had been dug around the perimeter — one inside and one outside. If his guess was correct, one of them had been filled with kindling and oil.

Should anyone attempt to raid the camp, these two trenches would slow the attackers’ advance, and could be set alight to form a wall of fire that would scorch the charging soldiers until their skin blistered like a roasted pig’s hide.

Moreover, around the walls stood numerous newly erected crossbow platforms, each mounted with full-weight, heavy-draw crossbows. From their dark, cumbersome appearance alone, it was plain that their range and striking force would be formidable.

Though the interior of the camp was not entirely visible, Qiu Zhen clearly remembered that the last time he had surveyed it, idle and disorderly soldiers had been lounging in the sun, chatting idly about nothing.

Now, row upon row of soldiers were lined up on the training ground, drilling their combat techniques in orderly formation. Some soldiers had no uniforms yet — they must have been newly recruited into the camp.

Though their clothing was far from neat, the earnest way they drilled under the blazing sun without daring to wipe away their sweat made them look no different from a vanguard unit stationed at the front lines.

In less than a month’s time, how had this provisions camp undergone such a complete transformation? This was no longer a military supply and provisions camp — it was practically a heavily fortified position arrayed for the front lines.

Setting everything else aside, the very layout of the camp alone revealed it had been designed by the hand of a seasoned and battle-hardened commander.

Qiu Zhen had originally only intended to take a brief look, yet he never imagined that this provisions camp — which he had dismissed entirely — could have undergone such a sweeping, earth-shaking change.

…Could it be that this arrangement, too, had come from Zhao Guibei’s hand?

It was little wonder that Qiu Zhen thought so. After all, the reputation of the Beizhen Prince’s Shizi in the capital and in Liangzhou had been utterly ruined, and the earlier state of camp management had been more than enough to reveal his worthless nature.

If such a person were to suddenly distinguish himself — not only capable of leading a surprise raid, but also skilled in deploying troops and forming battle formations — then the only explanation was that his soul had been stolen and replaced by another.

No one could fathom how a notorious wastrel like him could possess such talent.

If it were true, had he not spent all these years concealing his abilities and playing the fool to deceive his enemies? That would make his scheming far too deep and terrifying to contemplate.

Qiu Zhen trusted the reports of his undercover agents in Jiayong Prefecture. Had not Han Linfeng himself told Wang Yun that he had only managed to deliver the grain by a stroke of luck, thanks to Zhao Guibei’s assistance?

Just as Qiu Zhen was narrowing his eyes and gazing into the distance, the spy he had sent to secretly surveil the mountain temple also arrived with a report: “Perhaps it was because our earlier men had alarmed them — the people inside the mountain temple apparently slipped out under cover of darkness last night, leaving through the temple’s rear gate. However, our men have kept close on their trail. The further south they go, the harder it is to follow, as the city gate inspections ahead will be even stricter. The brothers are awaiting your next orders, Commander.”

Qiu Zhen turned slowly, glanced back once more at the camp below the mountain, then reached into his breast pocket and produced a letter and a small packet of medicine. He gave his instructions: “They’re moving along the road — they can’t travel without stopping to rest. Cao Pei’er is a playful sort, fond of spending time with children. Find some clever children, instruct them well, and when the Cao household stops to rest, have the children try to approach Cao Pei’er and find an opportunity to deliver the letter and the medicine packet to her.

Since they are so heavily guarded, we can only work from the inside. That medicine packet contains a powerful knockout drug — a single small pouch is enough to knock out a dozen people.

As long as Cao Pei’er is willing to cooperate and slip this into the food of those guarding her, we will certainly be able to get her out.

If she refuses, or if the scheme is exposed, it matters little — one must always try before knowing whether a plan will work.”

As for the plan to raid the provisions camp, Qiu Zhen had abandoned it entirely.

As the saying goes, when launching a surprise attack, one picks the soft targets to squeeze.

Yet the provisions camp below the mountain was now armed to the teeth.

Those watchtowers were heavily manned, commanding a sweeping view from their elevated position. To cross the deep trenches undetected and hurl incendiary explosives into the camp was nearly impossible.

Yet Qiu Zhen was not prepared to give up. If this approach proved useless, he still had a backup plan — to abduct Han Linfeng, the transport officer at Qianxi Provisions Camp, and then interrogate that worthless fool at his leisure.

He needed to know whether the mastermind hidden behind Han Linfeng was truly Zhao Guibei — and what connection this Zhao Guibei had with Cao Sheng.

Once he had concrete evidence, he need not even act himself. He had only to present the proof of Zhao Guibei’s secret collusion with Cao Sheng to the court of Great Wei, and he could use the Emperor’s own hand to demand that dog’s life.

As Qiu Zhen turned it all over carefully in his mind, he felt more and more that these events were linked in an unbroken chain, with perhaps yet more hidden secrets lurking beneath the surface.

As long as he could lay hands on Han Linfeng, a thorough interrogation would reveal all.

With that thought, he spoke: “Doesn’t that Transport Officer Han have a private estate in Fengwei Village? Let us go and pay a visit to that Transport Officer, and probe the depths of what he knows.”

It was said that Han Linfeng, that hero who lay drunk in the arms of a beauty, went back nearly every few days to spend time with his lovely wife.

Qiu Zhen had seen that blind woman before. A face so otherworldly and beautiful that one could entirely forget the affliction of her blindness.

No wonder, then, that Han Linfeng was so besotted he forgot all else — even while stationed at the military camp, he still slipped away now and then to be tender with his wife. One could hardly blame him for it.

Fengwei Village was nothing like that heavily fortified provisions camp. If they could pin that worthless transport officer down on his bed and take his head there, it should be as simple as turning one’s hand over…

Though it would, in all likelihood, terrify that frail, blind beauty of his… If he could not retrieve Cao Pei’er, Qiu Zhen did not mind taking Han Linfeng’s wife back with him as well, as a prize for this long and arduous raid.

The thought of it lifted Qiu Zhen’s spirits considerably. He frequently led men in and out of Liangzhou to source supplies, and was well acquainted with the surrounding terrain.

Once past a stretch of forest, they would reach the entrance to Fengwei Village.

Yet before their party had even drawn close to the village entrance, a shadow suddenly flashed out from within the trees, and they found themselves blocked: “Halt! Who goes there?”

Several soldiers seemed to have appeared from nowhere, their faces stern as they demanded to know their identities.

Qiu Zhen had a scarf wrapped around his face and rode at the rear, while his trusted subordinate called out loudly: “We have relatives in Fengwei Village and are visiting family. Is paying a family visit against the law now?”

The soldier’s manner eased slightly, and he asked again: “Which family are you visiting? Give me a name.”

The subordinate invented a name on the spot. What he had not expected was that the soldier in charge would actually pull a register from the leather satchel at his side and scan it up and down — then his expression shifted subtly: “There is no one by that name in this village at all… Just who are you looking for, and what is your purpose here?”

The subordinate had not anticipated that these soldiers would be carrying a register of Fengwei Village’s residents to cross-check against, and silently cursed under his breath. He quickly put on a smile and said: “I must have remembered wrong — my relative isn’t in Fengwei Village after all. We’ll be on our way now…”

Though they turned their horses and began to withdraw, the soldiers had already marked them as suspicious and had no intention of letting them go. They drew their weapons all at once, intent on forcing them to dismount.

Qiu Zhen shot a single glance, and in an instant several of his men had drawn their blades, cutting the soldiers down in one swift motion.

The men Qiu Zhen had brought were all skilled fighters honed in close combat. Combined with their swift movements and the close quarters of the encounter — exactly the kind of fighting they excelled at — they had dispatched the soldiers cleanly.

“Commander, do we continue forward?” a subordinate asked in a low voice.

Qiu Zhen let out a cold laugh: “That Han fellow is quite attached to his life — to be so heavily guarded.”

They were still some distance from Fengwei Village, yet sentries were already posted every few paces. If they drew any closer, there was no telling how many more soldiers lay in wait.

Qiu Zhen decided to hold back, wait for nightfall, and then slip in under cover of darkness.

Just as he turned to withdraw, the sharp whistle of an arrow suddenly sounded from behind him.

Those who had fought on battlefields knew this sound better than anything. Without a moment’s thought, Qiu Zhen deflected it with the small shield strapped to his back — but another arrow immediately followed.

This sense of mortal danger crashing down upon him felt exactly like the ambush in Ghost-Child Grove that day, raising the hairs all over Qiu Zhen’s body.

He swiftly determined the direction of the attack and saw a dozen horses charging toward them from the direction of Fengwei Village.

Evidently, these men had been leaving the village and spotted Qiu Zhen’s group cutting down the soldiers in the distance. Unable to reach them in time, they had drawn their bows and loosed arrows to try and bring them down first.

Before the thought had finished forming, a sleek black horse arrived first.

The rider drew a fine blade and slashed toward them.

Qiu Zhen raised his own blade to parry — but the sudden force behind the blow sent a numbing shock up his arm.

Even as he parried, he could not help but look at his assailant — and at this sight, he was momentarily stunned.

The man before him had thick, dark brows and deep-set eyes, and was uncommonly handsome — and appeared, much like himself, to carry a faint trace of foreign blood.

Though Qiu Zhen had once observed Han Linfeng from a distance, his only impression had been of a golden-thread embroidered robe. As for Han Linfeng’s actual features, the distance had been too great, and that robe far too dazzling for him to make out anything clearly.

So he did not recognize that his assailant was Han Linfeng himself.

Yet even as Qiu Zhen stood momentarily stunned, Han Linfeng’s offensive did not let up in the slightest. After kicking Qiu Zhen off his horse, Han Linfeng leaped down after him, pressing his attack with even greater speed — each slash fiercer than the last.

Had it been anyone else, he would likely have been hewn to the ground immediately. But Qiu Zhen’s skills had been forged in the blood and flesh of real combat. He had earned his place as a commander among the rebel forces through genuine ability, and so he immediately gathered his wits and focused entirely on parrying.

Yet as the sounds of the melee spread, it seemed reinforcements were coming from other directions as well. Qiu Zhen knew he could not afford to be drawn into a prolonged fight.

In the heat of the battle, Qiu Zhen’s face covering slipped and fell away. His opponent, it seemed, had finally gotten a clear look at his face…

At that moment, his opponent narrowed his eyes and suddenly called out: “Qiu Zhen!”

Qiu Zhen’s heart lurched. As he snapped his gaze toward his opponent, his shoulder was scored with a vicious slash.

“…So it truly is you. You have some nerve — daring to cause trouble in Liangzhou territory!”

Recognized by his opponent, Qiu Zhen inwardly cursed his bad luck.

Ignoring the pain, he immediately shouted: “Retreat!”

With that shout, Qiu Zhen reached into his breast pocket, pulled out the knockout powder, and with a sharp flick scattered it downwind.

As the powder dissolved into a drifting mist, several guards with less experience inhaled a mouthful or two and immediately grew dizzy, their bodies swaying unsteadily.

The man leading the charge, however, was seasoned enough to cover his mouth and nose with the hem of his garment at the first instant, and swiftly stepped to the upwind side.

In the brief window this created, Qiu Zhen finally managed to swing himself back onto his horse and spurred away with his men in a disorderly retreat.

Han Linfeng, knowing the potency of the drug, had not been caught by it — but he too pulled back sharply to one side.

When the medicated mist had dispersed, Han Linfeng slowly lowered the fabric he had held over his mouth and nose, but that group of men had already vanished without a trace.

Qingyang had been caught slightly by the powder a moment ago — he had felt nauseous, retched once, then drank several mouthfuls of water and recovered. Wiping his mouth, he asked Shizi: “Should we send men to give chase?”

Han Linfeng looked in the direction they had fled and said: “They’re fast… They’ve likely headed for Wild Bear Ridge. The mountain paths there are numerous and the terrain rugged. Without a local guide who regularly travels those hills, they’d likely lose their way. Do not pursue a desperate enemy into retreat — we risk walking into an ambush in the mountains.”

Today had been a chance encounter. Han Linfeng had been idle at camp and decided to head back to Fengwei Village, only to unexpectedly come upon the bandits slaughtering the soldiers he had stationed at the checkpoint along the way.

At first, Han Linfeng had not known who these men were. But during his exchange with Qiu Zhen just now, something had stirred in the back of his mind — the man’s fighting skills were no small thing, and his features were strikingly handsome, with something in his brows and eyes that hinted at an exotic heritage…

As the thought turned over in his mind, he suddenly recalled that Qiu Zhen, and so had called out on a whim — and sure enough, it had smoked out the man’s identity.

The audacity of this rebel was staggering — to have actually come as far as Fengwei Village.

When Han Linfeng returned to the small courtyard in Fengwei Village, bringing the wounded he had saved with him, Su Luoyun had already heard word that bandits had appeared at the village entrance.

She had been standing with her maids at the gate of the courtyard waiting for news, when she heard the familiar sound of hoofbeats approaching.

Hearing Han Linfeng call her name, Su Luoyun’s heart leaped with joy, and she walked forward to welcome Shizi.

Yet before she could say a word, a breeze drifted toward her from Han Linfeng’s direction — her legs gave way beneath her, and with a heavy thud she crumpled to her knees, striking her forehead against the iron stirrup.

Han Linfeng’s heart clenched. He leaped down from his horse at once and caught her.

The smooth, fair skin of her forehead had already reddened from the impact.

Xiangcao was frantic: “Has her headache not been much better these days? How has she suddenly fainted like this?”

As Han Linfeng held her, he glanced down and noticed the white powder residue still clinging to his own clothing — and immediately understood. Because Ah Yun’s sense of smell was so keen, even the faint traces of knockout powder left on his body had been enough to affect her.

He quickly handed her to the elderly servants nearby and had them carry Luoyun inside to lie down, then gently pat her face with cool water to rouse her.

Han Linfeng himself hurried to the outer gate and stripped off his outer robe, then upended a basin of cool water over himself with a splash.

Once the remaining powder had been rinsed clean from his body, he rushed back inside, took the fresh clothes the maid held out for him, pulled them on, and sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform. Gently touching the red mark on her forehead, he asked softly: “Ah Yun, how do you feel? Are you dizzy?”

Luoyun slowly opened her eyes — she blinked once, then blinked again, then fixed her gaze unmoving on the sunlight filtering through the window: “It… it’s light outside?”

Han Linfeng was momentarily bewildered — it was midday, of course it was light — but in the very next instant, a surge of wild joy flooded through him: “You… can you see?”

Luoyun blinked again. A smile of startled delight slowly bloomed at the corners of her mouth. She shifted her gaze slowly, sweeping her eyes around the room in a dazed arc, and then turned to look at Han Linfeng.

Before her eyes, everything still seemed to be shrouded in a haze of murk and mist. Though she could distinguish light from dark, her vision remained a blurred expanse. Han Linfeng, for instance, was nothing more than a tall, indistinct shadow — yet this blurred luminance was worlds better than the unending darkness she had known.

In that moment, an inexpressible, overwhelming joy welled and surged through her chest.

Han Linfeng was overjoyed as well. He immediately sent for the elderly physician who had been treating Luoyun.

The physician carefully felt her pulse, examined her eyes, and inquired in detail about the circumstances of the fall before he spoke: “Congratulations, Shizi Furen. These past days you have been steadily taking medicines to invigorate blood circulation and dispel stagnation, and your meridians have been gradually clearing. It seems the knock just now shifted the position of the blood clot that had been obstructing your brain — and so your eyes, as though freed from a crushing weight of ten thousand catties, have once again found light. If you continue with acupuncture, and supplement it with herbal decoctions to clear the channels further, it may not be too long before you can see as any ordinary person does, and gradually restore full sight.”

Words like these were something Su Luoyun had not even dared to dream of before today. Yet against all expectation, a single tumble had brought her back to the hope of sight.

Looking at it this way, she rather owed her gratitude to that rebel, Qiu Zhen. Had it not been for the knockout powder he had scattered, she would never have struck her head — and who knew how much longer it might have been before this small glimmer of light found its way back to her.

After the physician had administered acupuncture to Su Luoyun, she was settled by Han Linfeng onto the sleeping platform to rest.

He then went about his customary routine: he placed her shoes in their fixed position so she would find them easily when she got up; the teacup she had drunk from was returned to its designated spot according to their established habit; the chair was pushed back under the table; the outer robe she had just taken off was hung on the hook at the bedside; and the handkerchief she had just used was set beside her pillow.

These small, daily rituals, Han Linfeng performed with practiced ease. In the past, whenever he had done these things, Luoyun had not been able to see — and both of them had simply grown accustomed to it.

Yet now, Luoyun’s eyes could dimly make out a blurred figure, moving back and forth through the room.

With those moving shapes as a reference, and guided by the familiar rhythms of their daily life together, Luoyun could naturally deduce what he was doing.

Han Linfeng’s movements were always quiet — she had never heard them before. But now Luoyun realized, for the first time, that in all the time he had spent at her side, he had been silently doing so many of the tasks that maids ordinarily performed.

And of course — living alongside a blind person, there were naturally many things to adapt to. At the very least, every object had to be kept in its proper place.

It struck Luoyun then that just after their wedding, she had once tripped over a chair that Han Linfeng had sat on and failed to push back in time.

It seemed that after that one time, she had never encountered any such inconvenience again.

Back then, she had assumed it was because the maids below had grown more attentive, more careful in their work.

Now, watching that large, blurred figure move back and forth across the room, she understood at last — to adapt to life at her side, he had been quietly doing these things, day after day, in small and unremarkable ways.

Such ordinary, trivial acts — yet they stirred her heart more than any vow of undying love or honeyed words of devotion ever could.

For a moment, her chest was tight with a feeling she could not name — a bittersweet ache that pressed and swelled — he had always been like this. Did he never grow weary of it?

And just as Han Linfeng finished and turned around, he found Ah Yun gazing at him fixedly with those eyes of hers, brimming with a mist of unshed tears.

As he slowly walked toward her, her gaze moved with him — those eyes that followed his every step were, without doubt, the most beautiful starlight he had ever seen.

He could not help but pull her into his arms, and softly said: “You’ve been staring at me this whole time without a single blink — take care not to strain your eyes…”

The words gave Luoyun a start. She found them entirely sensible and immediately, in a fit of anxiety, squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

This faint, fragile vision of hers had been hard-won. She had to be careful with it.

But even as she had closed them for only a brief moment, she could not help but open them again — straining wide, trying to make out the face of the man holding her.

Han Linfeng held his breath and let her look for a while. Only when the expression of disappointment on her face deepened did he say gently: “Your meridians have been obstructed for over two years — did you think they would heal all at once? Did the physician not say it as well? As long as you keep taking your medicines, things will get better and better. When the time comes, I’ll personally request an extended leave, come and plant myself right in front of you, and let you look to your heart’s content.”

Luoyun could not help but let out a soft laugh, then with a faint note of jealousy she said: “They all say your face is something fine to look at — yet you’re such a peerless beauty of this mortal world, and all those women have had the pleasure of seeing it, while I, your very own wife, have not. It’s like the Pig Demon swallowing a ginseng fruit whole — all that effort and none of the flavor. I feel thoroughly cheated.”

Now that her eyes held hope, she could speak her teasing words with an easy heart.

Han Linfeng was none too pleased to hear this. Did she mean to say that all those times she had shared his bed in the dark amounted to nothing — no taste at all? Was this a complaint that his skills in the bedchamber were lacking, that his cultivation of her had been insufficiently thorough?

When Luoyun found herself pressed down onto the sleeping platform, she finally grasped the full extent of the man’s displeasure, and could only laugh and beg for mercy: “I was wrong — Shizi, you need not be seen at all. Simply catching a whiff is already a feast fit for the heavens.”

Han Linfeng showed no mercy whatsoever, tossing his upper robe aside with a sharp fling: “What can you taste from a mere whiff? Come here and savor it properly.”

After that, the room filled once more with laughter and playfulness — and then fell quiet. The firmly latched door sealed within it a room full of tender, springtime warmth.

The sudden restoration of light to Luoyun’s eyes was undeniably a blessing — yet the lurking danger pressing upon them was also imminent.

Fearing the bandits might return to raid them, Han Linfeng requisitioned additional manpower from Fengwei Village. He also had some of his military affairs relocated to the Fengwei Village estate to handle, and took up residence there for several days.

Zhao Guibei had also heard about the skirmish at the entrance to Fengwei Village, and personally brought men from Qianbei Camp to sweep the surrounding hills.

Yet the terrain of the nearby mountain ranges was simply too complex — several of the men very nearly became stranded on the hills and could not find their way down.

Zhao Guibei looked out at the dark, looming peaks in the distance, deeply troubled.

“Wang Yun is useless! He lost every last bit of Jiayong Prefecture — if Jiayong Prefecture were still in our hands, how could those rebels be moving back and forth across these hills so freely? Once that Qiu Zhen catches his breath and exploits his knowledge of the terrain, won’t he be able to encircle every prefecture and county in Liangzhou? My father came here only to inherit a complete disaster!”

Listening to the young general’s words, Han Linfeng said nothing — for everything Zhao Guibei had said was something he had anticipated long ago.

He had originally thought that by actively procuring grain and delivering it into Wang Yun’s hands, then building up public sentiment and momentum to blunt Qiu Zhen’s fighting spirit, he could help Wang Yun hold Jiayong Prefecture.

He had not anticipated that a few cleverly devised explosive charges would be enough to blast through Wang Yun’s city walls so thoroughly that they could not be defended.

Looking at it now, Wang Yun’s constant yearning to retreat had in fact shown a measure of self-awareness.

That sluggish and indolent army of his — how could it ever stand against a force of wolves and tigers?

After Zhao Guibei had vented his frustrations, he idly asked whether Lady Han had come.

Han Linfeng glanced at the oblivious young man with a cool look and said evenly: “Does Young Master Zhao have some business with my younger sister?”

The straightforward young general failed entirely to detect the displeasure beneath Shizi’s words, and said with complete sincerity: “She mentioned last time that she would make toffee candy and send it to Fengwei Village for me to collect when I had the chance.”

Han Linfeng had not expected him to be so utterly without guile — not the least bit mindful of the proper boundaries between men and women. He gave a thin smile, and with an air of meaning said: “My sister is already betrothed. Our mother is instructing her in proper conduct back at the residence, so I imagine she won’t be coming here often anymore.”

Yet Zhao Guibei reacted not at all — he simply nodded, then scratched his head and asked: “Then where am I supposed to go to collect it?”

This time it took every ounce of Han Linfeng’s considerable self-restraint to stop himself from knocking the young man on the head.

Zhao Dong had built a name for himself throughout his life — how had he managed to produce such a thick-headed son? He could not tell a kind word from a cutting one.