The First Jasmine - Chapter 299

Chapter 299 - The Fall of Zhu Yan

Amidst the fierce battle, watching Zhu Ling cut down enemies with unstoppable momentum, the soldiers on the Mo Army's side began to grow restless. Although Zhang Qilan knew he was no match for Zhu Ling, he was hardly willing to stand by and watch the opponent swagger so arrogantly right in front of him.

"What is the background of this kid?" Zhang Qilan asked with a furrowed brow.

Standing nearby, Qin Feng chuckled. "He is likely a descendant of Zhu Yan, probably a grandson of some sort. Word has it that Zhu Yan did indeed have a grandson, but due to fragile health since childhood, no one had seen him since he was around ten years old. Many speculated that he had passed away prematurely. Looking at it now, I'm afraid this must be him." Zhang Qilan nodded. "No wonder. The grandson of the Grand General of Pacifying Heaven truly lives up to his reputation. Commander Qin, I'll have to trouble you." As the leader of the Qilin, could he really insist on following the Prince just to guard a city without handling duties like this?

In a rare display of flashing teeth, Qin Feng smiled, flicked his reins, and his well-trained warhorse let out a neigh as it charged toward the moon-white-robed man in the center of the battlefield. Amidst the intense melee, Zhu Ling had already sensed someone hurtling toward him; he brushed aside a nearby enemy, whirled around to meet the challenge, and found himself face-to-face with Qin Feng. Raising a slight eyebrow, Qin Feng slashed out with his longsword straight at Zhu Ling's face. Zhu Ling sidestepped in the saddle, simultaneously raising his own sword to parry. The two immediately began trading blows back and forth on horseback.

However, both men were using swords, and even the longest blade has its limits. Fighting from horseback proved inconvenient; after trading several dozen rounds, the two tacitly leaped from their saddles and landed directly on the battlefield floor. With a flick of his wrist, Zhu Ling pointed his longsword straight at Qin Feng's face. "Who goes there? State your name!"

Qin Feng curled his lips into a smile. "Qin Feng, under the command of the Princess of the Prince Ding's Estate. And who might you be?"

Zhu Ling frowned slightly. The opponent's response was as good as saying nothing. Still, he answered coldly, "Zhu Ling, commander of Xiling's Pacifying Heaven Army."

Qin Feng smiled. "So it really is the Old General's descendant? A pleasure to meet you!" Zhu Ling emitted a cold hum, and without further words, the two renewed their clash.

Observing from the rear that Zhu Ling had been intercepted by Qin Feng, Zhang Qilan's mood instantly brightened. He nodded repeatedly, praising, "It turned out wonderfully when the Princess had Qin Feng stay behind. As expected, the Princess possesses remarkable foresight; I am far inferior." Were it not for Qin Feng's presence, dealing with this Zhu Ling would have proven rather troublesome. Thus, martial artists interfering on the battlefield were the absolute bane of military commanders. Ignore them, and their lethality surpassed ordinary soldiers by dozens or even hundreds of times; send generals to fight them, and risking the loss of a capable commander over a wandering martial artist meant taking a devastating net loss. Zhang Qilan resolved to borrow a few Qilin members from the Princess to anchor his battle lines in every future engagement.

Over here, Zhang Qilan was jubilant. Up on the city wall, however, Zhu Yan felt far from joyous. The moment Zhu Ling was entangled, the formation of the Xiling soldiers in the rear plunged into immediate chaos, and taking advantage of the opening, the Mo Army struck ruthlessly, wiping out a large portion of the Xiling forces in mere moments. Qin Feng and Zhu Ling fought with immense relish; although Prince Ding's estate boasted numerous experts, they were all familiar faces to one another, making routine spars rather dull. Moreover, Qin Feng temporarily lacked the audacity to challenge a powerhouse like Prince Ding himself. Naturally, encountering an unfamiliar expert like Zhu Ling filled him with eager enthusiasm, prompting him to endlessly entangle the youth in combat. Zhu Ling, meanwhile, felt inwardly panicked as he fought his opponent. He never imagined that with his martial prowess, he would be stalled for so long by a relatively obscure young commander within the Mo Army. Originally intending to swiftly dispatch Qin Feng to establish his dominance, he now found the protracted duel impossible to break off. Unable to stop unless Qin Feng chose to yield, he was truly riding a tiger and unable to dismount.

Through this exchange, he also discovered that Qin Feng's skill was no whit inferior to his own. Prolonging the fight any further would inevitably result in mutual destruction—a scenario where Qin Feng could afford the injuries, but Zhu Ling certainly could not. As the commander-in-chief of the Pacifying Heaven Army, while his grandfather Zhu Yan was too advanced in years to personally lead troops into frontline charges, Zhu Ling felt mounting anxiety that eroded his composure. Seizing the opening, Qin Feng launched a fierce barrage that left Zhu Ling scrambling in disarray and narrowly avoiding severe injury.

Atop the parapet, Zhu Yan watched Zhu Ling locked in combat with Qin Feng and frowned, signaling the soldiers beside him to sound the gongs for retreat.

At the signal, the Xiling soldiers swiftly withdrew back through the city gates. Zhang Qilan refrained from ordering a pursuit; while the gates of this small town were easily breached, the nearly two hundred thousand Xiling troops stationed within were an entirely different matter. Engaging in protracted street-to-street urban warfare inside the town after entry would result in unacceptable casualties that the Mo Army was unwilling to absorb.

Equally uninclined to drag out the engagement, Qin Feng generously yielded some distance to let Zhu Ling retreat back into the city before riding back to rejoin the Mo Army lines.

"How did it go?" Zhang Qilan inquired.

With a look of utter satisfaction, Qin Feng nodded and praised, "A true master. General Zhang would do well not to cross swords with him rashly." Zhang Qilan curled his lip in dissatisfied muttering. "I know that, I'm not tired of living yet. Now look here, can you finally tell me where the Princess went?" Do not mistake Zhang Qilan's carefree demeanor for a complete lack of awareness; the Princess Consort, who had supposedly come to reinforce them, had been entirely absent from view from start to finish—how could he possibly not feel anxious? Given the circumstances, even the Prince himself likely remained unaware of the Princess's whereabouts. If the Prince were to find out, wouldn't he skin him alive?

"General Zhang, calm your impatience," Qin Feng soothed. "Didn't I mention that I've already dispatched men to rendezvous with the Princess?"

Zhang Qilan shot him a resentful, sideways glance. You might as well have said nothing. Things had reached a point requiring an armed retrieval squad, which clearly implied that wherever the Princess had gone was far from safe. Taking a deep breath, Zhang Qilan suppressed the urge to throw the man off the ramparts. "What are we supposed to do?" After a moment of thought, Qin Feng replied, "Wait for the Princess's signal, then join forces with Third Young Master Feng to encircle and annihilate the enemy?"

"Isn't Feng San back at the main camp?! Where did he pop out from?" Zhang Qilan roared.

Keeping a serene expression, Qin Feng answered, "Heavenly secrets are not to be leaked. General... surely you understand?"

Understand your head!

Less than a quarter-hour after both armies pulled back, thick plumes of smoke suddenly billowed upward from the southwestern mountain ranges. Fortunately, the weather today was fine with clear, cloudless skies, and the mist that usually lingered throughout the mountains had largely dissipated, allowing them to witness the scene with pristine clarity even from dozens of miles away. Upon witnessing this development, Zhu Ling and Zhu Yan were struck with sheer horror. "Grandfather! The mountains..." Hidden within those mountains were not just over a hundred thousand elite troops, but also enough provisions to sustain a twenty-thousand-strong army for an entire year. Zhu Yan was well aware of this, his aged face turning deeply grim. "Take your troops back!"

"But Grandfather, what about here..." Zhu Ling asked anxiously.

Cutting him off, Zhu Yan commanded, "No need for further words. If the encampment falls to the Mo Army, our hundreds of thousands trapped in an isolated city will find their grain reserves depleted within days." This small town was hardly a major stronghold like Bian City; even if the Mo Army laid siege for three to five months against Bian City, it posed no problem, whereas a hundred-plus thousand troops would likely devour this tiny town's food supplies in under three to five days. When that happened, they would be left with empty stomachs waiting helplessly for the Mo Army to finish them off.

"The Mo Army cannot possibly have that many forces deployed there; the enemy detachment definitely does not exceed thirty thousand. Take your troops back, and no matter what, you must stabilize the situation over there!" Zhu Yan instructed.

"Grandfather..."

With a soft sigh, Zhu Yan patted his grandson's shoulder. "Go. Your grandfather will cover your retreat."

Gritting his teeth with reddened eyes, Zhu Ling nodded. "Grandson understands. Take care of yourself, Grandfather!"

"Go!"

Leading the hundred-odd thousand troops he had brought with him, Zhu Ling charged back toward the mountain ranges where they had entrenched themselves for over a decade. Behind him in the small town, seventy-year-old Zhu Yan remained to garrison the lonely little county seat with fewer than fifty thousand Xiling soldiers, facing an overwhelming force of over one hundred thousand battle-hardened, fully equipped Mo Army troops stationed outside. Perched in his saddle, Zhu Ling cast one final backward glance through the night toward the small town, catching sight of his grandfather's aged silhouette standing solitarily atop the ramparts and gazing in his direction. A pang of sorrow pierced his chest; holding back the stinging tears in his eyes, Zhu Ling whipped his steed into a gallop and raced forward.

The small town lay within easy distance of the Pacifying Heaven Army's mountain stronghold—merely twenty or thirty miles, a journey of little over an hour for marching troops. However, upon entering the mountain perimeter, their advance involuntarily slowed. Even though this was terrain they knew with absolute intimacy after more than ten years of residency, the entities lurking within were no longer comrades, brothers, or kin, but likely enemies lying in wait.

"Young Master, scouts sent ahead report that there is no unusual movement up ahead," a bodyguard reported in a low voice, riding back to Zhu Ling's side.

Zhu Ling stated grimly, "The absence of movement is precisely the problem. I'm afraid... the garrison left behind is already gone." Before departing, he had left three thousand men to garrison the forest; how could those men remain entirely silent upon their return? Now, looking into the pitch-black, dead silence of the mountain range before him, Zhu Ling extinguished the last flicker of hope in his heart.

"Young Master, could that Lady Yang truly..." The bodyguard trailed off; despite their brief acquaintance spanning only a few days, he held a favorable impression of the maiden, and could clearly discern the unusual affection his young master held for her. Growing up isolated in deep mountains with virtually no interaction with outsiders, if the young master and Lady Yang could form a union, it would have been a joyous occasion. Yet who could have anticipated...

At the mention of the delicate, pure-looking maiden, Zhu Ling's expression darkened. He had never imagined he could be deceived by a woman, and even now, he clung to a shred of wishful thinking that it might all be a misunderstanding. Yet his reason reminded him that such convenient coincidences simply did not exist.

Observing the gloomy expression on his young master's face amidst the dark night, the bodyguard tactfully changed the subject. "Young Master, once we pass this mountain pass, we'll be right near our camp."

"Instruct the vanguard to proceed with caution," Zhu Ling nodded, his voice heavy.

Yet vigilance often proves futile. The mountain paths were narrow, and the vanguard troops passed through safely without incident. Just as everyone began to breathe a sigh of relief, a deafening explosion echoed through the mountains. To their horror, they watched as a colossal boulder atop the adjacent slope was dislodged by some unseen force and came thundering down the peak. Instantly, roaring sounds erupted all around as countless rocks and boulders cascaded from both sides of the slope, sealing off the paths both ahead and behind. The screams and cries for help of soldiers crushed beneath the falling stones instantly reverberated through the entire mountain forest.

Moments later, countless torches flared up along both slopes, illuminating the gloomy forest like two blinding dragons of fire.

Trapped in the valley, the Xiling soldiers panicked and cried out, while others attempted to mount a counterattack. However, the enemy held the high ground, and the archery prowess of the Mo Army was renowned across all nations. In an instant, the valley grew thick with the heavy stench of blood.

Zhu Ling stood in silence amidst the chaotic troops, his personal guards loyally deflecting incoming stray arrows flying toward him. His handsome features were fraught with gloom and rage in the flickering torchlight, yet面对 the overwhelming rain of arrows pouring down from above, he was powerless. Over a decade of painstaking effort, his grandfather's twenty-plus years of careful cultivation—was it all going to vanish just like that, before he could even process what was happening? Destroyed here in this tiny mountain valley were not only over a hundred thousand of the Zhu family's Pacifying Heaven troops, but also his own decade of ambition, endurance, waiting, and ideals.

Too young after all—what Zhu Ling failed to understand was that while ancients claimed chaotic times produced heroes, the heroes birthed by any given era always numbered only a handful, while the vast majority served merely as cannon fodder for those heroes. Nor did any law dictate that a person's level of effort guaranteed their place among those historical titans.

"Young Master, you must leave!" A guard shoved him hard, jarring him back to reality. Zhu Ling blinked and noticed that several of his guards had already sustained injuries, yet they continued to form a protective ring around him, fighting desperately. The terrain heavily favored the enemy, and against the elite marksmen of the Mo Army, they had reached the end of the line.

Zhu Ling offered a bitter smile. "Leave? Where am I supposed to go?"

"Anywhere! While there's life, there's hope. Young Master, go!" the guard urged frantically, shoving Zhu Ling again and shouting harshly, "Young Master, don't forget the Old General is still waiting for you!" Startled, Zhu Ling snapped out of his daze. Raising his eyes, he surveyed the ravaged valley floor; fewer than twenty percent of the soldiers remained capable of standing.

"Protect the Young Master! Break through!" the surrounding men roared in unison. Loyal guards and household retainers of the Zhu family surged forward, shielding Zhu Ling as they charged toward the front. Having lived in these mountains for over two decades, they knew better than anyone where a breakthrough was most likely to succeed. The remaining soldiers, realizing they were trapped in a desperate cul-de-sac, roared as they scrambled up the slopes to perish alongside the enemy, though most were shot down midway. A lucky few who reached the summit were met by the blades of the Mo Army soldiers waiting in ambush.

The entourage protecting Zhu Ling consisted entirely of formidable martial artists, yet by the time they broke out of the valley, only seven or eight remained. Once clear of the encirclement and back into the mountain forest, this terrain was entirely their domain. No matter how formidable the Mo Army might be, tracking them down across such vast mountain ranges would prove an arduous task. However, stepping out of the valley, the sight that greeted them left them utterly stunned. Even in the dead of night, beneath the dim moonlight, the gruesome landscape was littered with corpses and heavy with the thick stench of blood. These were the vanguard soldiers who had charged out earlier; unfortunately, while they had escaped the valley's volley of arrows, they had failed to evade the ambush set outside by the enemy.

"Young Master, let's go!" A scarred, battered guard tugged at Zhu Ling's arm, his voice raspy.

"Let's go," Zhu Ling muttered hoarsely.

"Young Master Zhu." A refined, elegant voice rang through the blood-tainted forest. Zhu Ling trembled, lifting his gaze. Standing near the mountain path not far away was a woman in white robes, standing alone against the wind. Beneath the dim moonlight, her features possessed a crystalline radiance, and her graceful eyes shimmered with a faint glow. Appearing so abruptly in this dark, blood-soaked battlefield, she looked like a woodland spirit.

"Who on earth are you?" Zhu Ling asked in a dry, pale voice, staring hard at the maiden before him with mounting difficulty.

The white-robed maiden smiled faintly at him, offering a trace of apology. "My name is Ye Li."

Ye Li! Such ordinary syllables, such an unpretentious name. Yet hearing those two words felt to Zhu Ling like a thunderclap from the heavens, deafening his ears. After a long moment, Zhu Ling finally began to laugh softly. "Ye Li? Ye Li... Princess Ding... Haha..." Sounding as though he had heard a hilarious joke, Zhu Ling's laughter grew louder and wilder until he sounded nearly out of breath. "You are the Princess Consort of Prince Ding?!"

Ye Li nodded. "I am the Princess of Prince Ding."

"You deceived me," Zhu Ling gritted out.

Ye Li nodded. "I deceived you." Her clear eyes held a trace of regret and helplessness, yet no remorse or guilt. In war, there was no good and evil, no right and wrong—only stances. Differing stances made them enemies, and facing an enemy... using any means necessary was a principle Ye Li embraced in both her past and present lives.

"What a fine Princess Consort..." Zhu Ling murmured softly. "I heard that back then, Prince Consort Zhennan Lei Zhenting lost nearly his entire army of hundreds of thousands at the hands of the Princess. Today, for Zhu Ling to fall to the Princess as well is no disgrace. To have the Princess go to such elaborate lengths—truly, this is my fortune of three lifetimes." Offering a helpless, light smile, Ye Li replied, "Though Young Judge Zhu's hundred-odd thousand troops are not a massive force, our army happens to be short on personnel right now. Had you suddenly broken out, it would undoubtedly have caused significant trouble for the Mo Army. In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures are required. Please forgive me for any discourtesy."

"You targeted the Pacifying Heaven Army from the very beginning?" Zhu Ling asked.

Ye Li smiled faintly without denying it.

"Old General Zhu secretly concealed over a hundred thousand troops near Bian City, which naturally meant he stored a considerable amount of provisions there as well. To be frank, what we initially set our sights on wasn't Young Master Zhu's troops, but the grain feeding them." Not far away, Feng Ziyao strolled over clad in brilliant crimson brocade, the residual blood dripping from the tip of the trailing sword he held in one hand.

Giving an involuntary, helpless smile, Ye Li looked at Feng Ziyao and asked, "How did you get here?"

Smiling genially, Feng Ziyao replied, "The Princess personally put herself in danger; how could I face the Prince later if I didn't show up?"

Frowning slightly, Ye Li cast a cool look at Feng Ziyao. You could have chosen not to tell him!

Raising an eyebrow, Feng Ziyao's expression asked, Does the Princess really think that could be hidden?

Watching the silent exchange between the two, Zhu Ling's expression turned desolate as he sighed softly, looking calmly at the white-robed maiden before him. "What does the Princess want?"

Ye Li fell silent for a brief moment before speaking softly, "Please accompany us back, Young Master Zhu."

Zhu Ling remained silent for a moment before throwing his head back in laughter. Pointing at Ye Li, he declared clearly, "I, Zhu Ling, have achieved nothing in my life, but as a member of the Zhu family, I will never become a prisoner in chains. Nor will I give you the opportunity to use me to threaten my grandfather!" Offering a regretful sigh, Ye Li asked, "Then what does the Young Master intend to do?"

T

Zhu Ling drew the sword from a nearby guard's hand, pointed it toward Feng Ziyao and the Black Cloud Cavalry behind him, and said in a deep voice, "I only ask for a soldier's death!"

The cheerful smile on Feng Ziyao's face gradually faded, replaced by solemnity. In his eyes, the Zhu Ling before him still retained a trace of youthful immaturity; given a few years, his accomplishments would surely surpass his own. As fellow military men, even though the opponent was a defeated general, he respected him and was willing to grant him this wish. Reaching out to tear off a strip of his hem, he used it to wipe the blood clean from his blade. Feng Ziyao nodded and said, "Young Master Zhu, please."

"Wait." Ye Li's voice interrupted from the side. Feng Ziyao raised an eyebrow, retracted his sword, and looked at Ye Li. Ye Li raised a hand to stop Lin Han from stepping forward, walked leisurely up to stand directly before the blood-stained youth, and spoke in a clear, soft voice, "I am willing to fight the Young Master myself."

"Princess!" Feng Ziyao and the others cried out in alarm, stepping forward to intervene. Although Zhu Ling's army was now defeated, Zhu Ling himself remained an exceptional martial artist. The stains of blood on his body were not his own; in truth, Zhu Ling had barely engaged in genuine combat all night. Waving a hand to halt Feng Ziyao and the others from further protest, Ye Li stepped closer to Zhu Ling. "I am willing to duel the Young Master. Might I?"

"I have heard the Prince Consort is a master of martial arts in her own right. I am honored. Please!"

Within the narrow confines of the forest, bodies littered the ground and blood ran like rivers.

On the battlefield strewn with fallen Xiling soldiers, the young man in moon-white attire and the maiden in white stood calmly facing each other. Had it not been for the scattered corpses and blood-stained blades, it would have formed a picturesque scene. A short distance away stood the crowd watching in quiet concentration.

The longsword in Zhu Ling's hand trembled, tracing two silver sword flowers in the air. Ye Li offered him a faint smile, a snow-hued dagger flashing across her fingertips. With what seemed like only a momentary pause, the two figures shot toward each other at blinding speed, their forms crossing paths before immediately entangling once more. Zhu Ling's longsword unleashed surging sword qi, while Ye Li's dagger gleamed with a cold, menacing chill.

Very quickly, Zhu Ling discovered that engaging in close-quarters combat with this woman offered him no advantage whatsoever, severely restricting the full execution of his sword techniques. Consequently, he quickly forced some distance between them. However, Ye Li refused to afford him that luxury, her frost-tipped dagger clinging to him like a clingy maggot and skimming past his garments time and again, sending a shiver of chill through the skin beneath his clothes.

As the longsword clashed against the short blade, Ye Li's hand holding the dagger vibrated slightly. After all, bridging the physical strength gap between a woman and a man remained exceptionally difficult. Narrowing her eyes, she traced the flat of the blade straight upward to swipe at Zhu Ling's wrist, forcing him to sink his wrist and hastily dodge away.

"The Princess has formidable skills!"

"You flatter me, Young Master."

Outside the combat zone, Feng Ziyao stared intently at the sparring pair with a furrowed brow. Yet he had to concede that the Princess had progressed at a breathtaking pace over the past few years, holding her ground without the slightest disadvantage even against a rare expert like Zhu Ling. At some point, Lin Han had moved to his side, staring equally fixedly at the combatants while asking, "Why is Third Young Master Feng here? What about General Zhang..." Feng Ziyao replied, "Qin Feng is enough over there, or at least capable of buying time until we return. I was worried about the Princess acting alone. What about you—is your injury alright?"

Lin Han touched his back and shook his head. The slash had looked ferocious and lethal, but the assailant had calculated the strike precisely to bypass vital organs, rendering it little more than a superficial flesh wound.

With an arched brow, Feng Ziyao chuckled. "I figured it'd be fine. That was my own handiwork, after all. Didn't I calculate it nicely?"

"My thanks to Third Young Master Feng for holding back," Lin Han gritted out. Though voluntary, taking a gratuitous slash to the back did nothing to improve one's mood—especially seeing the culprit standing there looking smugly pleased with himself. Lin Han deeply felt that this Feng San needed a sound thrashing.

"Princess, watch out!" Happily laughing, Feng Ziyao caught a flash of silver and shouted a warning. Across the way, a guard under Zhu Ling's command caught sight of Ye Li fighting his young master to a standstill, a ferocious glint flashing in his eyes. The moment Ye Li and Zhu Ling separated, he hurled a silver-gleaming hidden weapon straight at her.

Simultaneously hearing Feng Ziyao's warning, Ye Li caught the whistling sound of the projectile tearing through the air behind her. Without turning her head, she swept her dagger backward in a parry to deflect the hidden weapon—only to see Zhu Ling suddenly leap forward and throw himself directly into its path. Ye Li frowned slightly, preparing to unleash a palm strike, but watched as Zhu Ling shoved her aside, taking the hidden weapon squarely into his chest.

"Young Master!" the guard shrieked, but before he could react further, Mo Army arrows pierced straight through his chest.

Ye Li planted her feet, turning back to look at the falling figure with a flicker of astonishment across her clear features. Seeing that the Princess was unharmed, Feng Ziyao let out a breath of relief and immediately rallied his men forward to inspect the enemy remnants and prevent any surprise attacks like the one just witnessed.

The hidden weapon was a common willow-leaf dart. The entire projectile had sunk into Zhu Ling's chest, leaving only a tiny tip exposed that gleamed with an ominous blue luster. Feng Ziyao's expression shifted slightly. "The dart is poisoned." Glancing down at the fallen Zhu Ling, Lin Han stated flatly, "Even if he hadn't blocked it, the dart wouldn't have hit the Princess." Under normal circumstances, Ye Li's dagger would have easily batted the dart away, but Zhu Ling had actively intercepted it instead.

Zhu Ling lay sprawled on the blood-soaked earth, his upper body resting awkwardly against the corpse of a soldier who had died some time ago. His dim, lusterless eyes stared fixedly at Ye Li; his lips twitched, but no words came out. Ye Li looked down at him and spoke quietly, "Why do you court this?"

The handsome youth managed a strained, bitter curve of his lips and smiled. "I lost... To think my life would turn out like this..."

"Victory and defeat are common occurrences in military affairs," Ye Li stated calmly. "Only the living can turn the tables. Once dead, everything is gone." Zhu Ling paused, then shook his head with a small smile. "What meaning is there in saying that now? I never expected... never expected to lose so thoroughly... Just as I never imagined you would be... would be Prince Ding's consort..."

Ye Li fell silent. Zhu Ling offered a faint smile. "You needn't... needn't feel sorry. I'm tired... so tired..." The poison on the willow-leaf dart was clearly no ordinary concoction; within moments, black blood began to trickle from the corners of Zhu Ling's mouth, and his eyes slowly closed.

Looking out over the corpse-strewn landscape, then down at the youth in moon-white robes whose blood-stained clothes framed his peacefully closed eyes, Ye Li felt a sudden, piercing chill sweep over her, prompting her to wrap her arms around herself.

"Princess, he didn't want to live anyway; it wasn't your fault," Lin Han said quietly. Even if Zhu Ling hadn't intercepted the dart, the Princess would have been fine; everyone standing nearby had seen it clearly, and Zhu Ling, standing right beside her, must have realized it too. From the moment he drew his sword to request a duel, he had already harbored a death wish. For a youth so proud, tasting such catastrophic defeat in his maiden campaign left him no reason to wish to continue living.

"I know," Ye Li nodded. "Clear the battlefield and return to reinforce General Zhang!"

"Understood, Princess," Feng Ziyao acknowledged.

Dozens of miles away in the small town, Zhu Yan stood sleepless on the city ramparts deep in the night, gazing into the distance. Suddenly, an inexplicable wave of dread gripped him, causing him to freeze. Staring blankly toward the southwest, he parted his lips, and two trails of weathered tears slowly streamed down his wrinkled face.

"Ling'er..."

The Xiling garrison launched their assault on the small town at the fourth watch. Though the Mo Army had maintained strict vigilance, the fourth watch was precisely when soldiers slept most soundly. The sudden attack threw the Mo Army into a brief period of minor confusion. Yet, being battle-hardened veterans, they quickly rallied and engaged Zhu Yan's Xiling army in fierce combat.

"What is happening? Why would Zhu Yan suddenly launch a surprise attack?" Behind the main force, Zhang Qilan stared at the battlefield ahead and demanded in a deep voice. Spending half his life on horseback made it easy for him to recognize that the morale of these Xiling defenders was fundamentally different from before; they fought with the distinct desperation of men seeking a joint destruction with the Mo Army. Raising his eyes toward the aged silhouette standing tall atop the distant city walls, Zhang Qilan sensed that something he was unaware of had transpired. Given Zhu Yan's military experience and competence, he would never have made such a rash tactical decision.

Qin Feng, by contrast, wore an unconcerned expression. "The Princess and the others must have succeeded. Though... we haven't received word yet; how did Zhu Yan find out?"

"Succeeded?" Zhang Qilan spun around, grabbing Qin Feng by the lapels. "You still haven't told me what the Princess went to do!" Calmly swatting away Zhang Qilan's hands from his collar, Qin Feng replied, "The Princess went to locate the stronghold of Zhu Ling's hundred-odd thousand troops. Moreover... there should be a massive stockpile of provisions and supplies there. That way, we won't have to worry about grain and logistics in the short term."

"What?!" Zhang Qilan was shocked. "The Princess went..." Qin Feng chuckled. "Otherwise, why did the General think we spent the last few days guarding this useless little county town? If they refused to leave the safety of the deep mountains, sending thirty or forty thousand troops in wouldn't necessarily guarantee victory. Now aren't they coming out on their own accord? Once they emerge, we can seize the opportunity to wipe out that base. The ten thousand troops who went back last night are likely gone too. Otherwise, Zhu Yan wouldn't have gone completely mad."

Zhang Qilan took several deep breaths, feeling as though this abrupt revelation had nearly scared half his life out of him. Still... this constituted good news, didn't it? Even if Zhu Yan wanted to go mad and fight under the cover of darkness, he wasn't particularly afraid; the troop strengths were relatively matched, and predicting the victor remained difficult.

Amidst the chaotic clashes of the two armies, the thunderous roar of hooves galloped in from the distance. Familiar to the Mo Army soldiers, the sound instantly sparked joy across their ranks.

"It's the Black Cloud Cavalry! The Black Cloud Cavalry are here!" From the southwest, a column of black cavalry swept across the landscape like a violent gale, charging swiftly into the battlefield. In short order, the previously evenly matched battle tipped into a one-sided rout. Behind the black cavalry, Ye Li and Mo Xiuyao rode side by side on horseback, quickly merging into the Mo Army's formations.

Catching sight of Ye Li's return from afar, Zhang Qilan hurried forward with his officers. "Princess!"

Scanning the battlefield ahead, Ye Li naturally caught sight of the solitary, aged figure standing atop the city tower. Pausing for a moment, she addressed him: "General Zhang, at ease. How is the battle going?" Zhang Qilan smiled. "The Princess may rest assured; with the Black Cloud Cavalry's arrival, we will sweep away the Xiling garrison before dawn." Seeing Ye Li return safe and sound allowed Zhang Qilan to finally set his mind at ease. A few days ago, the Princess had arrived with Qin Feng stating she was acting on the Prince's orders to assist him in holding the city, but she had vanished from sight immediately thereafter—only learning now what she had actually been up to left his heart fluttering with lingering terror. If anything had happened to the Princess, how could they ever face the Prince?

"Congratulations to the Princess for effortlessly clearing out over a hundred thousand Pacifying Heaven troops." Zhang Qilan smiled.

Ye Li offered a faint smile and shook his head. "Without the General stationed here to anchor the line, it would not have been so easy."

The slaughter continued until daybreak, when the Xiling garrison finally buckled under the pressure and retreated in defeat back into the city. Since the town gates and walls offered virtually zero defensive utility, the Mo Army and Black Cloud Cavalry breached the gates in under an hour, charging once again into the small county seat. The town itself held few remaining Xiling defenders, with only sporadic fighting echoing from various alleys. As Ye Li's group entered the city, a soldier who had entered ahead came forward to report, "General Zhu Yan is still up on the city tower."

Exchanging glances, Ye Li spoke softly, "Let's go take a look."

Raising no objections, the others followed Ye Li up onto the ramparts of the small town. At one corner of the tower, Zhu Yan stood clad in somewhat weathered battle robes with his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance toward Bian City. He appeared entirely unaware even as Ye Li and the others ascended the stairs. Ye Li remained unhurried, quietly observing the elder's back.

After an indeterminate length of time, Zhu Yan finally turned around slowly to survey the group, his gaze eventually landing on Ye Li in her pristine white attire. He asked in a deep voice, "Is this... young lady the Lady Yang? Or the Princess Consort of Prince Ding?" Cupping her hands in a polite greeting, Ye Li offered a calm, respectful smile. "Junior Ye Li pays respects to Old General Zhu."

Zhu Yan nodded, smiling. "So it truly is the Princess Consort? To be so young... truly a youthful talent. Prince Ding's estate is blessed..."

Ye Li replied softly, "Senior flatters me."

Zhu Yan studied her, his eyes carrying an ineffable, strange undertone. Hesitating for a moment, he asked, "My incompetent grandson... I wonder how the Princess disposed of him?" Ye Li sighed slightly, answering in a low voice, "Young Master Zhu has... passed away in battle. I ask the Old General to restrain his grief."

Zhu Yan's body trembled slightly, and his grip on the long spear in his hand shook. In the end, he only let out an upward sigh to the heavens. "He died in battle... So be it... It was my fault; he could have otherwise..." His only grandson possessed exceptional intelligence and brilliance since childhood. Had it not been for him, had it not been for the Pacifying Heaven Army, he could have lived a life of total freedom with fame and fortune at his fingertips. Yet solely because of him, for the sake of his ambitions and ideals, Zhu Ling had been forced to hide away in the deep mountains from the age of twelve or thirteen, forbidden from seeing outsiders. Even dying on the battlefield meant no one would ever know his name, nor would he ever receive the status and glory rightfully belonging to him.

"General..." Ye Li sighed. "Young Master Zhu has already fallen; please take care of yourself, General. In spirit, Young Master Zhu would surely not wish to see you grieve so."

Zhu Yan shook his head. "Princess Consort, you need not try to comfort this old man. I am nearing seventy; I have lived long enough. Now that the battle is lost to this degree, I have nothing left to say." Feng Ziyao frowned slightly and stated loudly, "Why must Old General Zhu speak thus? The Mo Army is not a force that slaughters without quarter."

Zhu Yan glanced at Feng Ziyao and chuckled humorously. "By this general's meaning, does the Mo Army wish to persuade me to surrender? This old man is of no further use to the Mo Army. Furthermore... I fought for Xiling for half my life; losing my integrity in my twilight years would be entirely laughable."

Lowering her gaze, Ye Li spoke quietly, "The General misunderstands. The Old General's noble character is something the Mo Army respects too much to urge surrender. Now that victory between our sides is decided, the Old General was originally retired from military life anyway. Please feel free to depart, and the Prince's estate will not impede you." Zhu Yan surveyed Ye Li and asked, "Are you not afraid that once I leave, I will raise another army and fight against the Mo Army again?"

Ye Li shook her head. "I trust the Old General."

Silence descended upon the tower for a long moment until Zhu Yan finally burst into loud laughter, shaking his head. "My thanks for the Princess's kind intentions. Unfortunately... Zhu Yan lives as the Pacifying Heaven General of Xiling, and dies as the Pacifying Heaven General of Xiling! Today, having suffered defeat, I have no face left to face Xiling's elders and the former emperor. This life... I will leave it here!"

"Old General..."

Before the stunned eyes of everyone present, the septuagenarian elder suddenly leaped upward and hurled himself off the parapet. Ye Li took a step forward, her sleeve fluttering slightly, but ultimately stopped herself. Stepping up to the edge, the group looked down. Below the city gates, the old man lay quietly, blood slowly pooling beneath him to stain both the earth and his white hair.

Ye Li gazed silently down at the lifeless elder below, her eyes dark with sorrow.

"Princess..." Feng Ziyao asked with concern.

Turning with a calm expression, Ye Li instructed, "Collect his remains and grant him a respectful burial."

"As you command, Princess."

In the small town dozens of miles away, Zhu Yan had stood sleepless on the city ramparts deep in the night, gazing into the distance. Suddenly, an inexplicable wave of dread gripped him, causing him to freeze. Staring blankly toward the southwest, he parted his lips, and two trails of weathered tears slowly streamed down his wrinkled face.