He didn’t know how long he sat there, lost in thought. It was the first time in his life that Qing Yun had been so consumed by thoughts of love, so filled with happiness that it felt like a poison, a happiness he wanted to drown in forever...
“Your Majesty! You’re awake!” Miao Jing had been standing outside and, hearing movement inside, peeked in to see that the king was indeed up. Qing Yun turned his head, raised his index finger to his lips in a gesture of silence, then wrapped himself in a robe and quietly stepped outside.
“How long has it been?” he asked as he sat down in the main hall, looking at the somewhat weary Miao Jing.
Miao Jing nodded and replied, “Seven days, Your Majesty.”
“Time flies!” Qing Yun leaned back, sounding a bit disgruntled.
“Miao Jing, I have a task for you,” Qing Yun said, looking up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling of the palace. Miao Jing immediately knelt, saying, “Your Majesty, please give your orders!”
Qing Yun paused for a moment, interlacing his fingers, and then spoke: “Send the Mang Liu scouts to spread false information—tell them that the Queen of Guan Ying from Yunpei was attacked by bandits, suffered grievous injuries, and has already passed away.”
Miao Jing, without questioning, nodded immediately and affirmed the order.
“In ten days, we will send an official letter of condolence to Guang Han Palace, expressing our regrets to King Zhan over his loss,” Qing Yun continued, turning to Miao Jing with a cold gaze. “And arrange for General Liao Zhen to come to the palace to discuss military matters. Begin recalling the demobilized soldiers—we’ll hold a grand military review before formally crossing the borders.”
“As for the Death Squad...” Miao Jing nodded in agreement, but then cautiously asked, “There are fourteen members left in the Death Squad. Should they be summoned?”
Qing Yun stood up, smiling. “No need. You’ll handle them. Guide them carefully. In times like these, every nation is likely preparing assassination attempts. There’s no reason not to use this card. First, kill King Zhan, then Ruo Wen. If we succeed, we’ll celebrate; if we fail... you’ll figure it out.”
Miao Jing bowed deeply and left. The king’s mind was always clear, even when immersed in the distraction of a woman. He never forgot himself, and only someone who never forgot their true self could walk the broadest path. Miao Jing had always believed that.
Setting fire to the night was Ruo Wen’s specialty.
To say he was without strategy would be to underestimate him. He led four thousand men into chaos, and wherever they went, people cursed their name. The water they drank turned red with blood. Wherever the white crown and yellow banner flew, that place would echo with ghostly wails until dawn.
That night, Mang Hu set a great fire in Guazhou, lighting up the sky. The soldiers stationed at Ruoshui River hurried to respond, leaving Ruo Wen to easily take the weakened city of Ruoshui. At first glance, this move seemed foolish—Ruoshui was a mere outpost, positioned between Yunpei to the south and Tiandu’s territories to the north. By occupying Ruoshui, Ruo Wen had crossed into the domain of the King of Beijing to the north and slammed into King Zhan’s southern border. No matter how fearless the Huang Tian Berserker Army was, challenging two powerful kings with just four thousand men seemed like a madman’s fantasy.
But Ruo Wen did it anyway.
“Leader! These people are making too much noise. Why not kill them all and be done with it?” Langtou sat atop an execution device, a guillotine used to behead people. It was their first time seeing such a tool, and for a while, they had been excited, feeling uneasy if they didn’t get the chance to execute a few people. The stench of blood and rotting flesh clung to the device, yet no one ever bothered to clean it. They had grown to love the sensation and the smell.
But Ruo Wen detested it. He killed, but he hated the smell of corpses. He drank, but he didn’t like the staleness of alcohol. He frowned, casting a cold glance at Langtou, and snapped, “If you like it so much, move it to your room and clean it up. From now on, no one is allowed to kill another person in Ruoshui. Gather everyone up and confine them in the city center.”
Ruo Wen’s commands were never repeated. Cheng Xiang, one of the few who liked to use his brain, immediately understood and set about carrying out the orders.
Ruoshui had a population of around eighty thousand. After the bloody massacre, fifty thousand remained. Excluding the elderly, women, and children, only about ten thousand able-bodied men were left.
Many people in Ruoshui had familial ties to Yunpei, and besides thriving economically on their own, the city had long been supported by Yunpei, making it a wealthy hub. In some ways, it was inseparable from Yunpei. Even though Qing Yun had brought it under his control during the last war between the two nations, it was clear that he had only done so to use Ruoshui’s blood ties with Yunpei’s border cities in the future. Now, it seemed that Qing Yun wasn’t the only one to notice this exposed weakness.
This once-thriving city was now surrounded, with yellow banners of the Huang Tian Berserker Army flying all around, marking who now owned the territory.
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