On the seventh day of the eighth month, nearing my hometown filled me with trepidation.

Facing the warm afternoon sun, I gazed steadily at the distant city on the horizon, my hands and feet growing cold.

“Puff!” Beneath me, Tanyaong impatiently snorted loudly.

I took a deep breath, flicked the reins, and mustered my courage to shout, “Hyah!”

The horse galloped like the wind, faster than flying birds. The warm sunlight bathed my face but failed to penetrate my skin. Turning my head, the swiftly passing birch trees dragged forth painful memories from the depths of my heart. I remembered that day—the icy river, the falling dry leaves. Turning my gaze forward, I saw the moon-shaped Leiyue Rock standing at the riverside, as if bearing witness to that heart-wrenching memory. I recalled that day—blood staining the skies, life-and-death partings.

“Hyah!” I spurred the horse onward, racing like a meteor, leaving behind the bleak scenery in my wake.

The gray city gates were heavy and devoid of any vitality, while the moat emitted a foul stench. Looking up, the characters “Fancheng” on the gate tower appeared even more weathered under the brilliant autumn sun. It wasn’t yet the ninth month, yet the city already bore the desolate appearance of a sorrowful autumn. Was this still the Fandu I remembered, the city that always brimmed with spring-like vibrancy? Was this still the city unsuited for autumn?

My heart ached painfully. The once heavenly paradise of my memories had fallen to the edge of hell.

“Who goes there!” A guard shouted loudly.

I squinted and saw they wore ochre uniforms—the soldiers of Qing! With a hint of confusion, I dismounted and retrieved the jade token from my bag, handing it over as I spoke in a low tone, “I’ve come from Yundu. Is General Han inside the city?”

The square-faced soldier took the token, examined it carefully, then bowed deeply, presenting the token back to me with both hands. “The general has left the city and will return later.” His polite response revealed no military secrets—a commendable soldier.

I tucked the token away and smiled faintly. “Then I’ll wait for him inside the city.”

The square-faced soldier gave some instructions to the others, then turned to me. “Master, please.”

“Thank you.”

“Master, allow me to take the horse for you.” The square-faced soldier walked beside me, reaching for the reins. Suddenly, Tanyaong reared its neck, baring its teeth and letting out a loud neigh, startling him into jumping back. “Hmph, quite fierce.”

I gently patted Tanyaong’s neck and chuckled. “Yes, this one is particular about people.” I stroked it soothingly, then looked around. The green eaves and red pillars were now faded, the once lively stages and pavilions battered by wind and rain. The once bustling streets of Qinglong Avenue were now empty, with only a few ragged passersby. Truly, the landscape ages quickly, and things remain, but people change.

This was my birthplace, and the pain cut deep into my bones.

I sighed deeply. “Brother, it’s only been ten days since we left Yundu, and you’re already within Jing territory. You’ve moved fast.”

The square-faced soldier proudly raised his brows. “Our general runs a tight ship. He said this was a forced march, so we little ones had to pick up the pace. And let me tell you,” he glanced at Tanyaong, “your horse might not even be a match for ours.”

“Yes, I left the capital a day after you, and here I am, barely catching up.” I smiled and continued, “But how did you take Fancheng? The speed was astonishing.”

“Hah!” The soldier grew animated. “We didn’t take Fancheng—it was handed over!”

“Handed over?”

“Yes! All thanks to Ninth Prince’s efforts.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Before, I thought all those royals raised behind tall red walls were soft-footed crabs. When the Ninth Prince first arrived, though outwardly respectful, none of us truly respected him. But two days ago, when we surrounded Fancheng, our general ordered the former citizens of You to sing their homeland songs. The defending soldiers stirred uneasily. Their general immediately killed several weeping soldiers, quelling the unrest—but only momentarily. Just as everyone thought a battle was inevitable, the Ninth Prince ordered all literate former citizens of You in the camp to write down what they ate, used, and where they came from. These messages were tied to arrowheads and shot into the city. Half an hour later, the head of the Jing general was thrown down from the city wall, and the defending soldiers rebelled. Hahaha, just like that, the gates opened, and we marched in.”

I chuckled softly. Attacking the city was secondary; attacking the hearts of men was paramount. Yunzhi, as expected, you excel at manipulating hearts.

“At first, none of us understood why the prince asked them to write about their daily lives,” the soldier shook his head. “But once we entered the city, we realized how harsh life was for the defenders. The people here suffered immensely. Their rations were worse than our warhorses’, their clothes patched repeatedly. Meanwhile, the Jing general lived luxuriously in the former palace of You, feasting daily. No wonder they rebelled upon reading the messages. If it were me, I’d have rebelled too!” The soldier slapped his chest passionately. “Our general immediately distributed food to aid the people. The soldiers knelt on the ground, tears and snot streaming down their faces, saying they had finally waited for someone from the Han family of Jiaocheng, finally seeing hope.” He gestured with his hands. “That’s when we realized how much influence the general’s surname holds in this city.”

“Mm.” I nodded slightly. After the fall of their nation, the people likely yearned even more for the past, longing for Father, the general who once revitalized the country.

“Ah, we’re almost there.” The soldier pointed to a side road on Xuanwu Avenue. “It’s on this street—what’s it called again?”

“Changqing Street.” My fists clenched tightly, palms sweaty.

“Yes, yes!” The soldier scratched his head. “Hmm, Master, how do you know?”

Every inch of my body felt electrified, every muscle trembling, every pore quivering. My eyes watered slightly. I released the reins and walked slowly, step by step...

My gaze trembled as I looked at the house before me. My fingers lightly touched the stone guardian by the entrance, and finally, the tears fell: Father, Mother, I’ve returned. Aunt Mei, I’ve returned. Uncle Quan, Zhuyun—I’ve returned.

“...Just like the general...” A murmur came from behind me.

Suppressing the ache in my nose, I wiped my eyes gently, held Tanyaong, and nodded to the soldier. “Thank you for guiding me.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” He grinned sheepishly. “Though the general isn’t here, Commander Hu is still in the residence.”

“Commander Hu?” I murmured softly.

“Ho ho, it’s what the brothers call him out of habit.” The soldier looked at me awkwardly. “Commander Hu refers to Lord Han Qi, and Black-Faced Commander refers to Lord Han Shuo. One has a big beard, and the other always looks grim. That’s how everyone calls them.”

I mounted the horse and nodded to him. “Mm, thank you for your trouble.”

The horse’s hooves clattered as we slowly approached the side gate.

“That’s right, the horse path is to the south.” The soldier’s enthusiastic voice came from behind, followed by a sudden silence. “...Uh, how does he know...”

How do I know? Because this place... I looked up at the dilapidated courtyard walls, my heart trembling slightly: it’s my home.

Guards stood outside the gate. After showing my token, I passed through without hindrance. Entering through the side gate, I settled Tanyaong in the stable and followed the guards through the estate. Passing the Liufeng Pavilion, I saw wild grass overtaking the entire courtyard, withered bamboo swaying mournfully in the wind, emitting a rustling lament.

“Please.” The guard led me into the main hall. “Master, please sit. I’ll go fetch the commander.”

“Thank you.” I bowed slightly and looked outside. The courtyard’s blue bricks were cracked, the eaves collapsed, and tiles had fallen off. Overgrown moss covered the flower beds, where several broken purple clay pots stood, filled with unruly weeds. Bitterness welled in my heart as I sat on an old wooden chair. The mountain walls were mottled, doors and windows broken, and green mold spread across the northern wall. Everywhere was desolation.

I sighed and raised my gaze. Though the lacquer had faded from the redwood plaque, the four large characters still struck awe into the heart: Righteous Mountains and Rivers .

“Who might you be?” A hearty voice came from the doorway.

I turned my head and narrowed my eyes slightly—it was him, the young officer Que’er had watched leave. Slowly, a smile formed on my lips. “I am Feng Yunqing, entrusted by Lady Han to deliver a message.”

“Ah, Master Feng.” He stepped inside and bowed respectfully. “I am the Right Army Adjutant, Yang Fengqi.” He raised his brows and smiled. “The general has gone to capture Yangcheng and will return later. Why don’t you tell me now, and I’ll relay the message when he returns?”

“Adjutant Yang.” I stood up and bowed. “However, Lady Han specifically instructed me that this message is for the general’s ears only, so...” I offered an awkward smile.

“Ah, forgive my impertinence.” He nodded politely.

“Adjutant.” A soldier brought tea and stood by the door.

“Mm, bring the tea quickly.” Yang Fengqi gestured for me to sit alongside him. “Please.”

The soldier approached with small steps, placed the cup on the table, hesitated briefly, then hastily rearranged the teacups. “Master, please enjoy your tea.”

Yang Fengqi picked up the white porcelain cup, took a large sip, and smacked his lips appreciatively. “Mm, excellent tea.”

I observed these subtle actions but pretended ignorance. Concealing my cup with my sleeve, I pretended to sip the tea, secretly spitting it onto my clothes, then discreetly dispelled the water stains with my qi. Setting the cup down, I smiled faintly at Yang Fengqi. “Indeed, fine tea.”

His brows twitched slightly, a flash of pride crossing his eyes. “Ah, Master Feng, I’ll go fetch Commander Han for you. Please wait here for a moment.” Then, with a stern glance at the soldier, he ordered, “Chen Dayou, stay here and keep Master company.”

“Yes.”

I sat quietly in the wooden chair, staring straight ahead at Chen Dayou standing across from me. He kept his head down but occasionally stole glances at me. Smirking faintly, I bypassed the cup in front of me and picked up Yang Fengqi’s teacup, slowly bringing it to my lips.

“Master!” Chen Dayou called out.

“Hmm?” I pretended to be surprised.

“Master, you’ve picked up the wrong teacup,” Chen Dayou pointed to the cups on the table. “That one is yours.”

“Oh.” I deliberately drew out my tone, now certain of their intentions. I switched back to my original cup and smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you.”

“No, no need to thank me.”

Holding the cup, I strolled over to the window, pretending to sip the tea while secretly pouring the liquid into the flower rack below. It was likely some kind of sedative—Yang Fengqi probably wouldn’t dare kill me outright, given that I had a “secret message” meant only for the general. Why not play along? Leaning against the window frame, I furrowed my brows tightly, then let the teacup slip from my hand and shatter on the floor.

“Master?” Chen Dayou’s face showed urgency, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of delight.

I shook my head dramatically, rolled my eyes, staggered forward a few steps, and slowly slid down, leaning against the chair as if collapsing.

“Master?” A low voice called out near my ear. “Master?” I felt a few light taps on my face. “Master.” The voice grew stiffer. “Master!” A sharp kick landed on my side. Eyes closed, I remained motionless.

Footsteps hurried away, growing fainter. Even through my clothes, I could feel the coldness of the ground. After a while, a series of rapid footsteps approached—three or four people.

“Hmph.” It was likely Yang Fengqi’s voice. My calf was nudged with a kick. “Only for the general’s ears, huh?” His tone dripped with disdain. “Whether the general will live long enough to hear it is another matter altogether!” My heart sank—there was indeed a conspiracy afoot. Holding my breath, I continued to listen.

“Adjutant.” A hurried set of footsteps approached from outside, accompanied by a raspy male voice.

“You’re back. What’s the report?” Yang Fengqi’s voice was urgent.

“Ming Wang’s army has reached Changming County. They’re expected to arrive shortly after nightfall.”

“Good!” Yang Fengqi clapped his hands. “Xiao Bi, head to the city walls now. Hang three lanterns on the battlements after dark. By then, the guards won’t be able to see clearly below the walls. When the time comes, give the order to open the gates and let Ming Wang’s forces in.”

Ming Wang... I thought for a moment. Who in court was colluding with Ming Wang? None other than the Seventh Prince, Ling Cheran! Luring the wolves into the city—and then what? Surely their goal wasn’t just seizing Fandu—it had to be something bigger.

“Yes.”

“Chen Dayou, Chen Eryou.” Yang Fengqi spoke again. “Tie him up securely and drag him to the backyard.”

“Yes.”

I was flipped over, my hands tightly bound behind my back, my legs also firmly tied. Suspended in the air, I was carried by two men, one holding my head and the other my feet. Out the door, turn right, straight ahead, then left. This was the path to Mingxin Courtyard. After a while, the faint scent of banana leaves wafted past my nose. Ah, we’d arrived.

“Damn, finally here.” The two men panted roughly, and with a thud, I was dropped heavily onto the ground, feeling a slight sting. They walked out slowly, locking the door behind them. Still feigning unconsciousness, I could hear the faint breathing of another person in the room—steady, as if asleep.

“This guy’s much lighter than Big Beard.”

“Yeah, and we didn’t even stop to rest along the way.”

When their footsteps faded into the distance, I slowly opened my eyes. The cobweb-covered room was somewhat empty, and in the corner lay a figure, bound hand and foot. Carefully moving my hands to my waist, I drew Xiaohun . With one swift stroke, the thick rope binding my hands snapped. I rotated my wrists—they had been tied excruciatingly tight. Another slash, and I was completely free. I turned the figure over and looked closely: “Uncle Qi!” I urgently untied his bindings and shook him fiercely. “Uncle Qi! Uncle Qi!”

He frowned slightly, groaning softly as he came to. “Uh...” He blinked slowly, shook his head, and demanded, “Who are you?!” Then his eyes widened in shock.

“Uncle Qi, it’s me, Qingqing.” I spoke in my natural female voice.

“Miss?” His eyes widened in disbelief. After a moment, he scooted back slightly, his expression wary.

I pulled the jade token from my chest and handed it to him. “Uncle Qi, the spy at home has been exposed. I feared something might happen here too, so I rushed to the frontlines to find Brother. But as soon as I arrived, I ran into Yang Fengqi.”

“Is it really you, Miss?” He scrutinized me carefully.

“Mm, I’m in disguise.” I tilted my head, thought for a moment, and smiled. “Uncle Qi, do you remember promising to cut off your beard and give it to me? Do you recall?”

“I remember, I remember.” Han Qi’s eyes welled up with tears of joy. “It’s truly you, Miss, it’s truly you.”

“Uncle Qi, where exactly have my brother and the Ninth Prince gone? Yang Fengqi said they went to capture Yangcheng—is that true?”

He listened intently to the sounds outside for a moment before whispering, “The young master spread the word that they were going to take Yangcheng, but in reality, they’ve gone to seize Shangling Pass.”

“Shangling Pass?” I gazed at him, puzzled.

“Mm.” Uncle Qi rubbed his knuckles. “Shangling Pass is a critical pass connecting the north and south. Capturing it ensures future supply lines for food and provisions. It’s a strategic point every general covets.”

“So it must be heavily guarded. Taking it won’t be easy.” I shook my head.

“That’s why the young master devised a feint strategy. Wang Zhongwen, who guards Shangling Pass, is a well-known filial son. His nearly eighty-year-old mother lives in Yangcheng. The young master ordered Han Shuo to surround Yangcheng, knowing Wang Zhongwen would surely split his forces to reinforce the city.”

“And then Brother seizes Shangling Pass while its defenses are weakened.” I couldn’t help but clap my hands in admiration. “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. But what about the Ninth Prince?”

“The Ninth Prince is currently in Yangcheng.”

“What?!” I stared at him in astonishment. “How could he walk right into a trap?”

“Last night, the Ninth Prince disguised himself and entered Yangcheng.” Uncle Qi’s eyes gleamed with respect. “The prince said Wang Zhongwen is a talented general—it would be a pity to kill him. Moreover, General Wang is also a former commander of You who surrendered. The prince is determined to persuade Wang’s elderly mother and win him over to our side.”

I couldn’t help but admire him silently: Such boldness—truly extraordinary. After a moment, I frowned slightly. “Does Yang Fengqi know about these military plans?”

“No.” Uncle Qi answered decisively. “Only the young master, the Ninth Prince, Han Shuo, and I know about this. Even the soldiers believed we were heading to capture Yangcheng when we left the city today.”

“That’s good.” I sighed in relief and whispered, “Uncle Qi, Yang Fengqi is secretly collaborating with Ming Wang. He plans to seize Fandu under the cover of darkness when visibility is poor.”

“What?!” Uncle Qi’s eyes widened in fury, his beard trembling slightly. “That little bastard! No wonder he drugged me during lunch—it was all part of his plan! I’ll go kill him!” He moved toward the door to break it down.

My ears twitched faintly—distant footsteps seemed to approach. I quickly grabbed him and whispered, “Someone’s coming. Act according to the situation.”

“Mm.” Uncle Qi nodded, sat down as instructed, and wrapped the broken rope around his legs, placing his hands behind his back. I leaned against the wall, curled up in a corner, and closed my eyes.

The lock clicked open, and I heard two sets of footsteps outside. One person entered.

“Hey, woke up so soon?” Yang Fengqi’s smug voice echoed through the room.

“You little bastard, what exactly do you think you’re doing?!” Uncle Qi was furious.

Yang Fengqi sneered. “What I’m doing? You don’t need to know. Hand over the military token quickly!”

“Spit!”

Yang Fengqi took a deep breath. “If it weren’t for the fact that I can’t find the token, I would’ve killed you already. Be smart and hand it over, and I’ll give you a merciful death!”

With one eye half-open and half-closed, I glanced at Yang Fengqi standing with his back to me, then peeked at the two soldiers outside the door. I had a plan.

Yang Fengqi pressed his blade against Uncle Qi’s neck. “I have plenty of ways to torture you. Don’t make me force you!”

I gave Uncle Qi a meaningful glance, and he understood, shifting his gaze accordingly. Suddenly, he pushed off the ground, drew Xiaohun from his waist, and hurled it toward the door. Two muffled cries followed as shadows fell to the ground. Yang Fengqi turned sharply, but Uncle Qi seized the opportunity to snatch the long sword, reversing the situation.

I retrieved Xiaohun , twirled my wrist, and smiled faintly as the sword let out a soft hum. “Adjutant Yang, thank you for bringing me to see Commander Han.”

“You!” Yang Fengqi trembled with rage, his nostrils flaring.

“Surname Yang,” Uncle Qi pressed the blade closer to Yang Fengqi’s skin, drawing a trickle of blood, “the general treated you so well—why did you betray him and ally with Ming Wang?”

“Hmph.” Yang Fengqi tilted his head defiantly. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Stop wasting words!”

“You!” Uncle Qi’s brows furrowed angrily as he prepared to strike.

“Wait!” I interjected, narrowing my eyes and curling my lips into a smirk. “Uncle Qi, this man is an official of the court. He should be handed over to the Ministry of Justice for proper interrogation.” Handing him and Que’er over to Lord Luo would ensure we rooted out the Seventh Prince completely.

“Yes.” Uncle Qi lowered the blade and bent to pick up a piece of broken rope. Before he could bind Yang Fengqi, I raised Xiaohun . The sword flashed, and four streaks of light followed.

“Ahh!” Yang Fengqi collapsed to the ground, convulsing uncontrollably. “You! You! You’re not human!”

I smiled coldly, looking down at him. “I’ve merely severed the tendons in your limbs. Unlike you, I don’t trust ropes.” Pointing the sword at his face, I spoke sternly. “What you wanted wasn’t Fandu—it was the general’s life, correct?”

The figure on the ground stopped writhing, staring at me wide-eyed, despair creeping into his expression.

“Hmph!” I lifted my robe and strode out. “Commander, lock the door tightly! Go catch the remaining rats!”

“Yes!”

The twenty-first body lay cold on the ground. The autumn wind carried the stench of blood. “Is that all?” I asked quietly, hands clasped behind my back.

“Yes.” Uncle Qi bowed deeply. “All of Yang Fengqi’s personal guards have been eliminated. The rest are my men.”

“Mm.”

“Miss,” he began hesitantly, “should we send someone to fetch the general? There’s only ten thousand troops in the city. It may not be enough to hold the fort.”

I turned and chuckled softly, glancing toward the foot of the city wall. “No need, Uncle Qi. Tonight, we’ll repay them in kind.”

“What do you mean, Miss?”

I narrowed my eyes, gazing into the distance. “Ming Wang plans to seize Fandu stealthily, then wait for my brother to return before ambushing him. Chen Shao—you’re still as treacherous as ever. We’ll open the gates and let him in!”

“Miss, that’s too risky!” Uncle Qi’s face was filled with anxiety.

“I haven’t finished yet,” I explained patiently. “Ming Wang has marched thousands of miles to reach here. If he doesn’t take Fandu, he’ll lose his foothold. If we simply defend and wait for reinforcements, Ming Wang will become desperate and attack with everything he has. The Western Yong soldiers are known for their bravery, and their numbers far exceed ours. By the time my brother returns, Fandu might already have fallen.”

“Mm.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Why not bait them into a trap instead?” I walked to the corner tower and pointed to the mechanism controlling the heavy gate. “Tonight, we’ll hang the lanterns according to the signal, then open the gates to let Ming Wang’s vanguard in. Afterward, we’ll lower the gate, cutting off their main forces.”

“If their main forces remain outside, won’t they still attack the city?” Uncle Qi looked confused.

“Yes, which is why we must set up an ambush outside beforehand.” I pushed open the windows of the corner tower and pointed to the birch forest beyond the city walls. “Station five thousand troops there, equipped with war drums and horns. Once they see the gate close, have them blow and shout as loudly as possible to create the illusion of a massive army approaching. Then, select someone to impersonate my brother, standing atop the city wall shouting orders and raising banners to confuse them.” Since they planned to exploit the darkness and poor visibility to muddy the waters, I’d turn their own plan against them and make them reap what they sowed.

“Brilliant strategy!” Uncle Qi clapped his hands and laughed heartily. “This way, Ming Wang will surely believe the general is still inside the city and that he himself has fallen into a counter-trap.”

“Mm.” I nodded. “Remember to chase the retreating enemy. If Ming Wang flees in panic without pursuit, he’ll grow suspicious. Drive him all the way to the Lei River before stopping.” I raised my head to gaze at the setting autumn sun and spoke softly. “Time is short. Please ensure everything is prepared before nightfall, Uncle Qi.”

“Yes!” Uncle Qi straightened his expression and barked loudly, “Understood!”

The crescent moon cast a cold, slanted light as the stars silently flowed across the heavens. The distant mountains were already cloaked in darkness, and crows flew into the birch forest, their hoarse cries reminiscent of ghostly whispers.

Three lanterns hung on the battlements, casting a pale glow. The surrounding area was eerily silent.

“Commander!” A soldier pointed to a flickering yellow dot in the distance and whispered urgently.

“Raise the gate!” Uncle Qi commanded loudly.

“Grrr, grrr, grrr...” The grating sound of chains accompanied the slow lifting of the heavy gate. With a final groan, the city gates opened.

“Tat, tat, tat, tat...” “Clap, clap, clap...” The sound of hoofbeats and footsteps grew louder as they approached rapidly. In the blink of an eye, the enemy was at the city gates.

“Uncle Qi, estimate how many men there are,” I murmured softly.

Uncle Qi squinted, then gasped. “At least fifty thousand.”

Fifty thousand against ten thousand—an overwhelming advantage. Holding my breath, I waited silently for their next move. The Yong army didn’t rush into the city but instead held their position. Amidst the dark mass of troops, a luxurious carriage was concealed—likely Chen Shao’s personal vehicle. A lone rider approached the carriage, and after a long while, a somewhat shrill male voice rang out: “Left Cheng Squad, follow me into the city!” The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

As the group drew closer, the dim moonlight revealed the leader’s identity: Bai Ziqi. My teeth gritted, and a murderous intent surged within me. “Uncle Qi,” I said lowly, “once the gates close, send men to drive them toward the outer city’s North Ting Gate.”

“The North Ting Gate?” Uncle Qi looked at me in astonishment. “But that’s where—”

“Mm.” I raised my head to gaze at the crescent moon, its icy light piercing through me. “Prepare salted offerings to honor them.”

“Yes!” Uncle Qi responded decisively.

Silently descending the city wall, I leapt lightly and sped northward.

The twisted branches of the old willow forest still stood, their gnarled forms casting a desolate shadow under the cold moonlight. This was the graveyard between the inner and outer city walls—the place where my parents’ spirits rested. Closing my eyes, I couldn’t bear to look. Following the distant memories etched in my mind, I trembled as I stepped into the woods. Each step felt like walking deeper into the most fragile corners of my soul. “Shh, shh.” The sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet echoed like the breaking of my heart.

Cold sweat seeped from my palms, and my body trembled slightly. Closer, closer. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw two graves nestled side by side beneath intertwined willow branches. Smooth white tombstones stood before the mounds, adorned with offerings of fruit, vegetables, and sacrificial meat. A vase held several sprigs of osmanthus—Father’s favorite flower. Removing the mask from my face and tucking it into my chest, I approached step by step. My body suddenly sank to the ground, fingertips lightly brushing the inscriptions on the tombstones. My voice trembled. “Father, Mother, Qingqing has come.” Bowing deeply, I knocked my head against the ground. “Forgive your unworthy daughter for visiting only today.” Another bow. “For ten years, I have neglected to light candles or offer sacrifices—it is my fault.” A third bow. “Allowing your remains to rest in foreign soil, exposed to wind and frost—it is my failure.” Slowly raising my head, I embraced the two tombstones tightly. “Your kindness in raising me will never be forgotten. Tonight, please drink a cup of moonlight and watch as your daughter breaks the wolves.”

No sighs, no tears, my face devoid of emotion. Slowly rising to my feet, I drew Xiaohun from my waist and turned to leave. The wind swept past, carrying the faint scent of osmanthus, as cool and clear as waterlogged incense. The moonlight bathed everything in a frosty chill, like autumn’s first frost.

Standing on the main road, I waited silently for the inevitable slaughter.

“Tat, tat, tat...” The frantic sound of running footsteps and panicked hoofbeats approached. Glancing coldly, I saw the leader’s face—deathly pale, a far cry from his arrogance back in Qianzhou.

“Who goes there?” Bai Ziqi raised his whip and shrieked.

“A ghostly envoy from hell.” With those words, my body surged forward, my sword aimed at the wolves.

“Protect me! Protect me!” His voice trembled uncontrollably.

I sneered disdainfully, channeling my qi into the sword. The hum of Xiaohun rang out, each note echoing hauntingly. A single slash sent a head flying; a swift kick knocked Bai Ziqi off his horse. “Someone! Anyone!” he scrambled backward, crawling desperately.

I landed lightly before his horse, twirled my wrist, and flicked the blood from my blade, its surface gleaming silver. Smiling faintly, I stepped into the encirclement. Suddenly, my eyes widened, my qi flaring outward as my sword danced in all directions, its light weaving like a dragon. Flesh and blood flew, screams erupted, but my mind was empty save for the sword.

The heavens decreed this recklessness, this devouring of remnants and battle under the vast sky.

Kill! Kill! Kill!

“Charge!” From the dense forest came thunderous roars and drumbeats that shook the earth.

“Master, we’ve fallen into a trap!” The attendant shouted frantically.

Ming Wang hastily leapt off his carriage, stepping on a servant’s hand to mount his horse. He glanced coldly at the city walls, where banners fluttered and generals stood tall in the distance. “Relay my order: retreat with the entire army!”

“What about the white-robed strategist?” An officer asked hurriedly.

Ming Wang narrowed his eyes reluctantly. “The white-robed strategist has sacrificed himself for the nation. This king will ensure he receives a proper burial.” With a crack of his whip, he turned and galloped away. “Hyah! Hyah!”

“Retreat! Retreat!” The officers bellowed, their siege ladders collapsing as the Yong soldiers split into three groups and fled in haste.

“Charge!”

Reaching the birch forest, shouts shook the ground, accompanied by the clamor of gongs and drums. A cavalry unit emerged from the southeast corner, their numbers indiscernible in the darkness, but judging by the noise, they numbered nearly ten thousand. Ming Wang cursed inwardly, lowering his head to blend in among his guards.

“Swish, swish, swish...” A rain of arrows flew overhead, sending riders tumbling from their horses. Ming Wang’s hair stood on end in shock, his heart seething with hatred: Ling Cheran, this humiliation is your doing. When I, Chen Shao, return, I will settle accounts with you!

The sky darkened like spilled ink, black clouds shrouding the earth. The wind stirred the birches, casting shadows that seemed alive.

Fear, fear, fear.

The infantrymen glanced around nervously as they ran, fearing ambushes at every turn. Holding their breath, legs aching, they pushed forward for miles without rest. Upon reaching the Lei River, just as they were about to pause for a breather, another low horn sounded from the side. Not again! From Ming Wang’s territory to Fandu, they had already rushed nonstop through the night. Now, exhausted and frightened, the Yong soldiers felt as though they carried a thousand jin on their backs.

“Charge!” The chaotic sound of hooves and the relentless southwest wind spurred them onward.

The Yong soldiers abandoned their supplies, their legs heavy as lead, yet they had no choice but to flee once more.

Ming Wang, now atop his horse, his golden crown askew and hair disheveled, ducked to avoid stray arrows and whipped his horse mercilessly. “Hyah!”

The wind howled, the river roared, the forest darkened, and the moon waned, the road stretching endlessly.

After fleeing tens of miles, passing Leiyue Rock, the pursuing forces gradually faded. Chen Shao grew suspicious, reining in his horse to look back. Behind him lay discarded armor and helmets, the remnants of his retreating army. Adjusting his crown, he pondered: Throughout the chase, the enemy had only sent small skirmishing parties, avoiding close combat, pursuing but not killing—a tactic uncharacteristic of Qing’s forces. After a moment, his eyes widened in realization, his cheeks trembling slightly: Damn it, we’ve been tricked!

Ming Wang cracked his whip and shouted, “Relay my order: counterattack Fandu!”

“What?” “Didn’t we just escape?” “Go back to our deaths?!” Voices of dissent rose.

“Anyone who disobeys...” Ming Wang glared coldly at his surroundings, “...will be executed.”

The weary Yong army reluctantly turned their formation, resembling a half-dead python, sluggish and heavy.

“Report!” A scout bearing a narrow flag raced toward them, kneeling halfway. “A Qing army of approximately one hundred thousand has been spotted twenty li northwest of here!”

“One hundred thousand!” Ming Wang slumped in his saddle. “Impossible, impossible, how could this be?”

“Master!” “Master!” The officers around him urged urgently, “Master, your life is most important!”

Ming Wang snapped out of his daze, took a deep breath, and turned his horse. “Relay my order: advance toward Fengzhou!” Qian Qiaozhi, I once secured you the title of Marquis of Golden Wealth. Today, it’s time for you to repay the favor!

The cool breeze blew gently; the moon hung over Fandu.

“What did you say!” Han Yuesha, returning triumphant, roared furiously, staring down at the messenger. “She’s here?!”

“Yes,” Han Qi replied proudly. “This entire plan to repel Ming Wang was conceived entirely by... that person.”

“Oh~” Ling Yiran, newly returned with his troops, squinted his peach-blossom eyes, itching with curiosity. “Where is she?”

Han Qi hesitated, his expression troubled. “She... she...”

“Uncle Qi!” Han Yuesha gripped his reins tightly in frustration.

“She instructed me to drive Bai Ziqi and his men to the North Ting Gate of the inner city. She said she would prepare salted offerings to honor them.”

“Nonsense!” Han Yuesha cracked his whip and galloped northward.

“Hyah!” Ling Yiran smirked seductively and followed closely on his horse.

“This...” Wang Zhongwen, the recently surrendered general, watched the two figures disappear into the distance, surprised.

“General,” Han Qi bowed respectfully, “please dismount and rest.”

“Alright, alright, alright.” Wang Zhongwen, still confused, looked toward the horizon. After a moment, realization dawned: driving back an army of fifty thousand with cunning tactics was indeed the mark of a brilliant strategist. No wonder General Han and Ninth Prince held her in such high regard. Hmm, it seems I’ve chosen the right master to serve.

Holding my sword, I stepped over the scattered corpses, advancing step by step toward Bai Ziqi, who crawled pitifully on the ground.

The long wind carried falling leaves, tangled vines, and withered flowers. The western wind howled mournfully, chilling to the bone—this was the autumn night of my memories.

Stars fell from the sky, dewdrops dripped like tears. My spirit, thin as a crescent moon, was stained crimson by the cold glow—this was the crescent moon of my memories.

“No... no... please...” His shrill cries pierced my ears, chilling my heart further. Without expression, I grabbed him by the hair, lowered my sword tip, and dragged him along. “Hero, we have no grudge between us. Please... spare my life!” His sobbing voice grated on my ears as I hurled him beneath the twisted willow.

Sheathing Xiaohun , I picked up two spears from the ground. A cold smile curled my lips. “No grudge between us?”

“Y-yes... yes...” He trembled, backing away. “I truly do not know you—how could there be enmity?”

I smiled faintly, thrusting one spear into each side of his abdomen, channeling my qi through his meridians to lift him bodily into the air. “No acquaintance?”

Bai Ziqi’s lips twitched spasmodically, blood gushing forth like a fountain.

I propped him against the tree with the spears and approached slowly. “Take a good look before you die.”