“Do you want to live?” Ruo Wen asked slowly.
Silence fell. Not a single person felt any hope in his words.
With a swift motion, Ruo Wen beheaded one of the nomads in front of him, his blade dripping with blood. At that moment, even the fiercest wind seemed to freeze in the space around Ruo Wen. In his presence, the world stood still—anyone who dared approach him would be mercilessly killed.
“Do you want to live?” Ruo Wen repeated, raising his blade toward the crowd, his voice colder than ice.
“Yes! We want to live!” came the chaotic, fear-stricken response, trembling with desperation.
“I only need fifty of you. It doesn’t matter whether you’re men or women, young or old. No matter how you do it, survive until the end, and you’ll come with me,” Ruo Wen said, wiping his curved blade on his horse’s saddle before finally sheathing it.
The nomads stared at each other, uncertain of what to do. Then, they heard Luo Ying shout, “Listen up! You can kill your own mother if you want. If you’ve got a wife, kill her too. If you want your son to live, kill someone else first and then yourself. Use any means necessary. You have three hours. If there are more than fifty of you left after that, we’ll finish the rest. Don’t even think about running—one wrong move, and we’ll slaughter every last one of you!”
The nomads could hardly believe their ears. They stood in shock, nearly fainting as they stared at the mad soldiers surrounding them. Were these people even human? They seemed more like demons addicted to bloodshed.
“What are you waiting for? Start killing!” Mang Hu yelled.
The nomads began to scream in terror as they turned on each other, driven to madness by the sheer horror of the situation. Blood sprayed everywhere, limbs were torn apart, and their eyes burned red with desperation as they fought savagely, each one desperate to cling to life.
The Mad Yellow Army of Heaven accepted only those who were driven to the edge of insanity.
Meanwhile, as blood splattered and chaos reigned in the desert, the palace of Guang Han was bathed in the warmth of springtime pleasures.
“Your Majesty, Lady Yun is waiting outside,” Zhu Jun informed Na Zhan, who was sitting at his desk, focused on his paperwork. Seeing no response, Zhu Jun bowed slightly and waited.
“Send her back,” Na Zhan replied, his voice devoid of emotion. After a moment, he looked up and added, “Summon Consort Jia and Consort Shuang to serve me.”
Consort Jia and Consort Shuang, of course, were the newly titled You Jia of Zhen Qu and Huang Bei Shuang of Ernaqi. Zhu Jun smirked, thinking the king must be curious to see how the two beauties would compete for his favor tonight.
With that, Zhu Jun straightened up and led You Jia and Huang Bei Shuang to the Hall of Clouds and Rain. “Consort Jia, Consort Shuang, wait here. Don’t be too nervous; His Majesty will be here soon.” After giving them his instructions, Zhu Jun hurriedly excused himself, not daring to linger for even a moment. He swallowed hard, realizing that few men could resist such beauty. He scurried away as fast as he could, vanishing into the distance.
You Jia, clearly anxious, sat at the edge of the bed. She glanced at Huang Bei Shuang, perhaps hoping to calm herself by talking. Suddenly, she blurted out, “Have you ever been with a man, Consort Shuang?”
Huang Bei Shuang was taken aback by the question, her thoughts drifting. “No,” she answered simply.
“Neither have I,” You Jia replied, unexpectedly flustered.
Huang Bei Shuang couldn’t help but smile. Despite You Jia’s proud and competitive nature, she was still just a young woman filled with innocent desires. Now, facing the prospect of serving a man like Na Zhan without any experience or confidence, it was no wonder she couldn’t stay calm. As Huang Bei Shuang reflected on this, she realized that she, too, felt a strange sense of unease. Though she wasn’t afraid, thoughts of Qing Yun and the endless desert sands, bathed in sunlight, kept crossing her mind.
Before long, Na Zhan strolled in, dressed in his sleepwear, his hair still damp. He looked relaxed and casual as he sat down on the bed. You Jia immediately jumped up and stood beside Huang Bei Shuang, and together they bowed to him. Na Zhan smiled, leaning comfortably against the headboard, and beckoned with a crooked finger, signaling them to come closer.
You Jia bit her lip and took small steps toward him, while Huang Bei Shuang remained kneeling in place.
“What’s the matter?” Na Zhan asked, picking up You Jia without sparing a glance at Huang Bei Shuang.
“Your servant has been visited by her monthly cycle and is unwell, so I cannot allow Your Majesty to come near me,” Huang Bei Shuang replied, still kneeling with her head bowed.
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