However, from the day the last of the Zelkova flowers fell, Zhan, the master of Guang Han Palace, never returned to Guan Ying Palace.
The thirty-day ceasefire was nearing its end. The Huangtian regiment guarded Weak Water with fierce vigilance, and Tian Du’s army of hundreds of thousands was poised to press the attack. At this point, even Zhan, despite his reluctance, could no longer stop the impending clash.
Only five days remained until the battle would begin.
Seven days had passed since he had sent the ten guards and three maids to Tian Du, and still, there was no word. He dispatched spies to investigate, and the answer came back: there was no trace of the beauty in Tian Du, and the thirteen messengers had all disappeared.
Huang Bei Shuang, in the blink of an eye, had slipped out of his control.
As he thought about this, Zhan let out a bitter laugh. Anyone who could stand on the stage of history was certainly no ordinary person.
By the bank of the clear waters, the fine grass swayed, and the tides of a distant dream shifted once more!
She was no longer the chess piece in his hand,
Yet she remained his wife in name.
As the bloodbath loomed, she had vanished into thin air,
Truly abandoning the beauty of the Zelkova tree...
And beneath the tree, all that remained were riddles!
The seven-colored paradise bird flew across the sky, its brilliant colors rivalling the vibrant clouds at sunset.
Lian Huan and the thirteen riders followed behind Huang Bei Shuang on horseback, only stopping to rest after reaching the next hill. Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, they gazed back at the distant silhouette of Tian Du.
“Na Xiu, have you decided where we’re going?” Ye Pei asked curiously.
Huang Bei Shuang looked at the long, thin shadow of Tian Du’s outer walls in the distance and smiled. “I’ve already decided. We’re going to Fen Tian!”
“Fen Tian?” Dao Qiu nearly fell off his horse, his eyes widening in disbelief.
“Mm!” Huang Bei Shuang nodded firmly. “In this situation, I fear no one—except for Qing Yun—would ever imagine that I would go to Fen Tian. I’m going there to find a way to hold Ruo Wen in check!”
The thirteen riders were shocked, doubts swirling in their minds.
Huang Bei Shuang turned to look at them and asked with a smile, “Are you still following me?”
The thirteen riders exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
Huang Bei Shuang smiled too and urged her horse toward Fen Tian.
Whether it was Tian Du or Yun Pei, neither would harm the Er Na Qi tribe anymore. Whoever won or lost made no difference to Er Na Qi. The only real threat was Ruo Wen, the Blood King, stationed at Weak Water. If his blood cavalry breached the defenses, Er Na Qi would surely suffer.
Of course, this was Huang Bei Shuang’s somewhat selfish thought. But in reality, if she succeeded, it would rid the desert of a scourge, benefiting the entire region. Although she wasn’t sure if she could achieve it, it was worth a try.
Year 332 of the Common Era, Spring Equinox, Yin Guang.
King Jing of the North deployed his army, advancing from the north to the south and setting up camp in his vassal state, Hu He. For three days, he arranged his forces, with drums beating nightly to boost morale. At the same time, King Zhan of the southern territories also divided his forces into three locations for defense, inspecting and preparing for battle every day. The only unpredictable factor was the Blood King, Ruo Wen, whose intentions were like needles in a haystack—both Tian Du and Yun Pei were wary of him.
At this point, the drought-ridden desert was on the brink of collapse.
Qing Yun galloped through the vast desert,
Bei Shuang’s song resounded across the dunes.
Ruo Wen rode with blood-soaked clouds,
Zhan’s battle would not find peace in this life.
...
On the grand stage, who would win, and who would lose? Where would they go from here? The answer seemed imminent.
Today’s laughter—how many bloodied arrows would pierce the skies, carried away by the torrents of fate?
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