Zhan watched as Soulran spread out the scroll in front of him, the words of the ceasefire agreement clearly written for him to see. With a sigh, he finally removed the jade ring from his thumb and pressed it down, leaving the royal seal of Yunpei. He had lost this match.
Seeing the seal, Qing Yun stood up to leave. Zhan called after him, “One last question—how were you so sure I would agree to your terms, just for him?”
Qing Yun turned back and smiled lightly. “Because if not, you would never have agreed to the talks in the first place. This is your retribution, Zhan—it’s payback for using Queen Consort Guan Ying.”
“Retribution, huh?” Zhan looked up at him. “If it weren’t for Guan Ying being the thorn in your heart, and if I had waited until you entered the pass to play the Na Yan Xing card, wouldn’t I be left with no escape?”
“Hmph!” Qing Yun shot him a venomous glance, ignoring him as he strode out. His voice, still ringing with urgency, called out as he walked, “Ji Hua, leave seventy thousand men here to monitor Yunpei! Liao Zhen, prepare the troops immediately—we march for Fentian without delay!” With that, their figures quickly vanished into the distance.
Zhan remained seated inside the pavilion, watching from a distance as King Jing of Heaven, Qing Yun, leaped onto his white horse and galloped away with his army, never looking back. Zhan leaned back, gazing up at the pavilion’s roof, lost in his thoughts, though it was unclear what he was looking at or what he was contemplating.
"At the bend of the water, the cool moon reflects in the mirror; the masterful move on the chessboard is made without self-awareness!"
What kind of place could the Ice Palace be, to produce a king like this? Someone who could want both the world and a woman, and make such swift decisions between them. What kind of balance existed in his heart? And what role did love play in any of it?
In the southern desert, an unexpected truce had been called in the midst of chaos, with both armies retreating a hundred li. To outsiders, this ceasefire was shocking, as the air still buzzed with an unspoken, fiery tension.
Meanwhile, in the eastern desert, the swirling dust made it impossible to distinguish faces beneath the hoofprints. Nearly 120,000 of Fentian's troops were rushing back, split into two divisions. Ruo Wen and Huang Bei Shuang shared a single horse. The frantic ride caused her pale skin to rub against his rough clothing, leaving bruises. Yet, her eyes remained tightly closed. In truth, she had awakened back in Zhun City. She had tasted blood in her mouth and found herself lying in Ruo Wen’s arms. The realization made her gag, though she managed to hold it in, deciding it was better to continue pretending to be unconscious for as long as possible. She hadn’t expected Ruo Wen to carry her so relentlessly, never stopping. The constant jostling aggravated her chest wound, and the unbearable hunger gnawed at her nerves.
As they galloped, Ruo Wen glanced down at her. Suddenly, he tightened his grip around her waist, squeezing her painfully. He smirked and said, “You can pretend to sleep all you want, but starving without saying anything—you're only harming yourself!”
The sharp pain made Huang Bei Shuang cough, and she abruptly opened her eyes. Slightly regaining her strength, a faint anger radiated from her. Her grey eyes gleamed with contempt, much like the day she had escaped from him, staring at him with the same scorn that he would never forget. She despised him. She saw no value in him. And all of this thrilled him.
Ruo Wen pulled his cloak tightly around her and looked away. He needed to return to Fentian as quickly as possible. Then, he would hold her, hold her until his desire was completely sated. Until he was bored. Until his heart beat calmly again. Until the fire inside him was extinguished. He wanted to quench the raging thirst that clawed at him from within.
But Ruo Wen wasn’t the only one rushing toward Fentian. From the south, King Jing of Heaven, Qing Yun, was also on his way.
When it came to military strategy, Qing Yun was much more calculated. He didn’t throw all his forces into Fentian. Instead, he split his troops, sending half to circle around Zhun City, quickly forming an encirclement. Weighing his options carefully, he ultimately decided against a direct confrontation with Ruo Wen. For one, the Huang Tian Berserk Army was notorious for each soldier’s ability to fight ten men at once—a feat that neither Zhan nor Qing Yun could match. And secondly, if they engaged in battle, Yunpei would only benefit as the third party. From Tiandu’s standpoint, allowing such a clash was out of the question.
However, to catch a fish, you don’t need to drain the ocean. Qing Yun tightly gripped his reins, and his horse, sensing his emotions, galloped faster. Man and steed raced ahead of the rest of the army. No other horse could match the speed of his mount, Feita, leaving Liao Zhen trailing behind by more than ten feet, unable to catch up.
0 Comments