Chapter 82

Like a stagnant pool of despair suddenly infused with vitality, the crowd below the city walls erupted in tears of joy at the sound of the messenger’s cry. With shouts and trembling voices, they summoned their last reserves of strength to hold the city gates once more.

Outside the gates, the black-armored army surged forward like a dragon’s tail, unstoppable as it shattered the enemy’s rear flank in moments.

The rebel forces turned back in panic, scattering like leaves before a storm.

Their commander, Cangying, shouted orders repeatedly in an attempt to steady his troops, but to no avail.

A city defended by only five thousand soldiers had been besieged by nearly one hundred thousand rebels through wave after wave of attacks. Yet now, the crimson banners of the Xuan Ce Army swept across the battlefield like wildfire. Who among them had the strength to fight on?

The city gates swung open, and the defenders of Xingyang poured out, their bloodshot eyes blazing with fury. Driven by days of pent-up frustration and the will to survive against all odds, they cut down fleeing enemies one by one.

The tide of battle quickly turned one-sided. From the city walls, Jiang Zhiyi finally lowered the crossbow aimed at her neck, her lashes trembling as she fixed her gaze on the young general who had fought his way to the foot of the city.

The armored youth sat tall atop his warhorse, his silver spear gleaming like a dragon unleashed. With a single thrust, he pierced the chest of the rebel commander, Cangying, pinning him to the city wall. He tore down the rebels’ green banner and hurled it to the ground, then lifted his head to meet the tearful eyes waiting for him atop the walls.

For a fleeting moment, their gazes locked—across lifetimes, it seemed.

Yuan Ce dismounted and strode forward.

Jiang Zhiyi lifted her skirts and ran, turning to sprint down the steps from the tower. She dashed through the gates, weaving past the fallen bodies littering the ground, and flung herself into his arms, embracing the cold, hard armor that encased him.

Yuan Ce held his spear in one hand while cradling the back of her head with the other, pulling her tightly into his embrace.

They clung to each other amidst the sea of corpses.

The hot tears streaming from Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes soaked into his armor. After seven days of stifling her sobs, she finally burst into uncontrollable weeping: “You’ve finally come—”

Yuan Ce pressed his chin firmly against the top of her head. The man who had always exuded confidence, even laughing as he killed, now spoke with a trembling voice, his body quaking: “…I’m sorry. I came too late.”

The sounds of slaughter gradually faded around them. A weak whinny rang out as a warhorse collapsed from exhaustion.

Jiang Zhiyi startled, lifting her head to look.

In the now-quiet battlefield, horses fell one by one, their riders tumbling to the ground. The cavalry of the Xuan Ce Army lay sprawled amidst the corpses, their faces turned to the blazing sun as they closed their weary eyes.

Yuan Ce released Jiang Zhiyi and looked her over. “Are you hurt?”

Jiang Zhiyi raised her head, noticing for the first time the bloodshot veins in his eyes and the faint color of his lips. He was utterly exhausted.

“…No, I’m fine. What about you? Are you injured?”

Yuan Ce shook his head, raising his thumb to wipe away her tears.

One of the Xuan Ce soldiers approached to report: “Young General, all enemy forces at the western gate have been annihilated!”

After finishing wiping her tears, Yuan Ce glanced at the soldiers behind him and spoke slowly: “Everyone, retreat into the city to rest and await the arrival of reinforcements—”

With that final order, his body swayed and collapsed backward.

“…Yuan Ce!” In her panic, Jiang Zhiyi grabbed his hand, falling with him and landing on top of him.

An hour later, in the eastern wing of the governor’s residence.

Jiang Zhiyi sat beside the bed, gazing down at the sleeping face of the man lying there. She took a damp cloth and gently wiped his forehead, cheeks, temples, and every finger, then handed the cloth to Jingzhe behind her.

The person who would normally leap up in alarm if touched in his sleep had been disarmed, changed, and cleaned by Li Dafeng earlier. Now, despite being carefully tended to for so long, he remained motionless, lost in a deep slumber.

If not for Li Dafeng repeatedly checking his pulse and assuring her again and again that the Young General was truly, truly just asleep—

She would have feared he was unconscious.

From questioning Li Dafeng earlier, Jiang Zhiyi learned that during the agonizing days she endured, Yuan Ce had suffered even longer.

In June, both Hexi and the imperial court received similar reports: drought and famine had broken out in the three southern states, but no one realized how dire the situation had become.

At first, when Yuan Ce sent word advising her to avoid the refugees, it was purely out of concern that they might block her path or cause trouble. The worst-case scenario he imagined was merely that the Xuan Ce Army would have to intervene to protect her, sparking public resentment and giving Hedong fodder to criticize Hexi in court.

But later, as news of the disasters in the southern states poured in like snowflakes, and as she neared Xingzhou, Yuan Ce’s sense of alarm grew—

The second prince, taking advantage of the crown prince’s mistake, ordered his officials to suppress and impeach the crown prince. However, this only resulted in the crown prince being confined for reflection, which undoubtedly left the second prince dissatisfied.

Yet, faced with the second prince’s dissatisfaction and such a severe disaster, Hedong remained strangely silent, refraining from stirring up trouble.

Hedong was quiet—strangely so, like the calm before a storm.

The palace was also eerily silent, like an airtight, locked cage.

Moreover, at that time, she was wandering outside, her journey uncertain due to the summer heat, with too many unpredictable variables. Yuan Ce could not afford to sit idly by.

Before she entered Xingyang City, Yuan Ce had already led his troops out of Guzang, stationing them at the Hexi border, preparing for battle in the closest location to her.

Later, news spread of Hedong raising an army. However, at that time, he had yet to receive orders from the imperial court. Despite his troops being fully prepared for a long time, he could not step out of Hexi.

He was not afraid of bearing the name of rebellion, but without orders, if he were to march, he would face numerous obstacles along the way, unable to pass through all cities and checkpoints directly. He would have to fight his way through.

Fighting through would not only take more time but also be akin to severing his own limbs before even confronting the rebels.

This was the most agonizing time for Yuan Ce. Knowing that she might already be in dire straits, he had no choice but to wait.

Fortunately, the place where he stationed his troops was not over a thousand miles away from Xingyang, but eight hundred miles. Also, while waiting, he had secretly sent out a batch of supplies and logistics, planning the shortest possible route for the march.

After the order was issued, the vanguard army, despite the scorching heat, traveled day and night for three days and four nights, finally reaching Xingzhou.

The military doctors, including Li Dafeng, set out earlier and arrived here in about six days, their strength still manageable. But Yuan Ce’s cavalry truly pushed themselves to the limit, running countless horses to death along the way, with many cavalrymen falling behind. Those who successfully arrived were already exhausted, relying solely on sheer willpower for the final battle at the city gates. After annihilating the enemy, both men and horses were completely spent.

Just now, Jiang Zhiyi watched as Li Dafeng removed Yuan Ce’s armor, revealing enough sweat inside to fill two basins.

Jiang Zhiyi raised her index finger, smoothing out the frown that remained even in Yuan Ce’s sleep, and gently kissed his forehead.

After days of fear and rushing, and a sleepless night, her exhaustion overwhelmed her like a collapsing mountain. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she climbed onto the bed, lying on the inside, turned around, embraced Yuan Ce, and closed her eyes.

When Yuan Ce woke up, the night was already deep, and dim candlelight illuminated the room.

Feeling the warm, soft arm draped around his waist, Yuan Ce lowered his eyes to quietly gaze at the person in his arms, slowly raising his hand to gently touch her cheek. Only when his fingertips felt the genuine warmth did he believe this scene was real.

Seeing her sleeping so peacefully, his mind flashed back to today’s sight of the Xuan Ce Army charging toward the city gates, and when he looked up on horseback, he saw her alone on the city walls, standing against the wind, holding something high in her hand…

Yuan Ce reached out, exploring inside her sleeve, and touched a cold arrow tube.

At this moment of confirmation, it felt like a basin of ice-cold water was poured over him in the heat of summer, chilling him to the bone.

Yuan Ce froze, his breathing still, stunned on the bed, taking an unknown amount of time to retrieve the sleeve-mounted crossbow from her sleeve.

The sleeve-mounted crossbow he had personally crafted for her was now fully loaded with arrows, but it wasn’t meant for self-defense—it was meant to end her life.

If he had been a moment too late—

For the first time, Yuan Ce realized that holding such a small, light crossbow could make his hands tremble.

The candlelight flickered faintly, and the room was utterly silent, as if time had solidified in this moment of dread.

After a long while, Yuan Ce twisted open the arrow tube, about to dismantle the arrows Jiang Zhiyi had loaded, when a rolled-up note suddenly fell out.

Yuan Ce’s eyelashes fluttered as he picked up the note, clenching it in his palm. It seemed he already guessed what it was. Silently, he gently moved her arm aside, sat up from the bed, covered her with a quilt, and walked to the candlelight.

Unfolding the note, delicate handwriting came into view:

“Dear Uncle, I hope this letter finds you well. I do not know whether the war has ended or the world has stabilized when you read this. I am currently in Xingyang, amidst continuous warfare. If you are reading this, it means I have gone to a peaceful place free of smoke and fire. Please take care of yourself and do not worry about me.”

“It has been eleven years since Father held firm in Qingzhou. Over these eleven years, it would be false to say I bore no resentment. I resented Father for choosing to stay in Qingzhou instead of saving himself like the Fan family of Hedong. I resented losing my closest kin, while the world praised Father’s righteousness and loyalty. If I didn’t join in the praise, it would seem as though I harbored rebellious thoughts. For eleven years, my heart has been unsettled.”

“The royal family praises Father’s loyalty, leading me to always think that Father chose the emperor. But today, standing in the same city as Father once did, I finally understand. Perhaps the people Father chose to protect were the soldiers and civilians of that city. My home is a home; the homes of the city’s soldiers and civilians are also homes. Before, I hadn’t seen the suffering of the world, nor understood the pain and hardship of those in it. Now that I have witnessed it firsthand, if I have the power to end suffering, I cannot stand idly by. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I have run out of options. The only way left is to end my life, sparing the warriors who rushed to Xingyang for my sake.”

“In this battle of Xingyang, I have come to understand Father’s choice back then and the courage Mother had to give her life for love. My years of inner turmoil have resolved, so please do not feel regret for me, Uncle. My only fear and regret is leaving behind the one I love, leaving him to walk alone in this world, with no one to tell him: take care of yourself.”

“You still have family by your side, but he has no close kin or loved ones left. I know what I’ve done is wrong in every way, and I don’t know how to seek his forgiveness. After much deliberation, I didn’t even dare to write him a single word. I can only wish that in the next life, the country will be prosperous, the people safe, and there will be peace everywhere. In that life, may we both be ordinary, free individuals, fortunate enough to spend our lives together. Jiang Zhiyi, written in the western camp of Xingyang, farewell forever.”

Yuan Ce stood silently under the light, finishing the entire farewell letter, his hand gripping the paper tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, a startled gasp came from behind him, and the person on the bed abruptly sat up.

Yuan Ce turned around sharply, seeing Jiang Zhiyi sitting on the bed, wide-eyed and staring at the window: “Jingzhe, are the rebels attacking again?”

Yuan Ce put away the letter, walking over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed, and gently turning her shoulders toward him: “There are no more rebels, and there will be no more rebels.”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly turned her eyes, staring blankly at the person in front of her, finally seeming to recall everything that happened during the day. Tears uncontrollably surged forth, and she lunged forward, hugging his waist tightly: “Yuan Ce—”

Yuan Ce pulled her into his embrace, feeling her vibrant heartbeat and warm body, closing his eyes: “I’m here.”

“I was so scared, I was really so scared…”

“Don’t be afraid,” Yuan Ce lowered his head, kissing away her tears, and repeated, “I’m here.”