In the Northern Border, the Annihilation Spirit Array successfully sealed the Foul Veins.
The defensive barrier sustained by Immortal Master Deng and the Witch God Sect's High Priest through the Foul Veins had completely collapsed.
The eyes of Wen Zhi and Shao Yuqing gleamed with growing excitement.
"Damn your ancestors!"
Wen Zhi roared, raising his twin blades and hacking down in a frenzy.
Shao Yuqing's Heaven-Piercing Sword Technique burst forth as streaks of sword light danced wildly across the sky.
"Courting death!"
The Blood Sacrifice Formation had failed.
For Immortal Master Deng and his allies, it was a catastrophe—but at the same time, it offered them a sliver of life. It meant they could flee, escape this doomed land.
The Vajra Pestle on the Witch God Sect Master's chest radiated a sinister demonic qi.
Immortal Master Deng's flying sword split into two, then four, until eight gleaming swords hung suspended before him.
But then—
Two ancient hands, wrinkled yet unshakable, pressed down upon their shoulders.
Both Immortal Master Deng and the Witch God Sect's leader froze instantly, unable to move.
A heartbeat later, their bodies were shredded to pieces beneath the storm of blades and sword light.
The remaining cultists and demonic cultivators shared the same fate—none survived.
"My son!"
Wen Zhi threw down his weapons and collapsed, weeping bitterly. "Your father has avenged you!"
Shao Yuqing sheathed his sword, closing his eyes to calm his turbulent heart.
Far above the clouds, Emperor Longqing stood in midair, controlling the Annihilation Spirit Array. He watched as the Foul Vein was destroyed, only for a surge of malevolent qi to erupt from it like a storm.
For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed his otherwise tranquil face. He wove seals with both hands, layer upon layer of protective incantations, while sealing his own spiritual orifices. Yet even so, traces of the foul qi slipped into his body.
"Sun Xiangzong, why didn't you tell me that sealing the Foul Veins would cause backlash?"
As he spoke, he guided the Mystic Pearl back toward the elder's hands with a gesture of his will.
"You were in such a rush, Your Majesty, this old servant had no time to explain," said Sun Xiangzong, accepting the pearl. He continued the unfinished sealing process, channeling the last threads of demonic qi into the pearl. The tendrils of malevolence seeped into his meridians, and though his eye twitched from the pain, he bore it without flinching.
His already frail aura grew even weaker—yet oddly, the true power emanating from his body began to surge, climbing higher and higher. Black light flickered within his eyes, turning them cold and otherworldly, like those of an Ancient Demon cultivator.
"The Foul Veins are not like the spirit veins," he said slowly. "To seal them requires not only the Annihilation Spirit Array, but also a living vessel to bear the burden. I cultivated some demonic arts beforehand, anticipating this day. Still, I must thank Your Majesty for sharing a portion of the backlash. Without that, this old body would've crumbled the moment I activated the array."
"Heh…"
Emperor Longqing's eyelid twitched faintly as he observed the growing power within Sun Xiangzong's form. After a pause, he said softly, "It's fine. I only did what was necessary—to protect the millions of lives in Liangzhou. Now that this matter is settled, I shall take my leave."
He turned and ascended through the air, disappearing in a blink.
Sun Xiangzong also departed swiftly.
Only after returning to the Grand Commander's Manor did he suddenly spit out a mouthful of blood and collapse.
In Youzhou, as reinforcements from every province arrived, the war came to an end within days.
The rest was cleanup.
To most people, it seemed as though a great calamity had suddenly erupted upon the world—and then vanished just as abruptly.
But among the generals, there was only waiting.
Waiting for news from the north.
The sudden disruption of the Blood Sacrifice Formation was far too strange.
By theory, such an outcome could only occur if someone had destroyed the main formation core—located ten thousand li away at Wolf Juxu Mountain.
And that person… could only be Chen Sanshi.
A man of Profound Manifestation Perfection, commanding a single battalion of soldiers—facing hundreds of thousands of barbarian troops, countless Martial Saints, and masters of the Witch God Sect.
No matter how one looked at it, the odds were impossible.
As some had said, it was far easier to believe that the Witch God Sect had somehow sabotaged themselves.
Though the war involved vast numbers, the actual area of devastation was not large.
In Youzhou, only two or three prefectures were directly affected, and the conflict lasted just a few days.
Even in Liangzhou, though the panic was severe, the chaos mostly consisted of citizens fleeing into the countryside. There had been little real fighting. Within days, the region was back to normal—like waking from a nightmare no one could fully remember.
Lü Ji and his companions were recuperating in the Carp City Prefecture of Youzhou.
Meng Guangxin, Rong Yanqiu, and the others stayed behind to manage the army. As the days passed, their unease only deepened.
"The gyrfalcons have been sent one after another—why is there still no word from our junior brother?"
"Amitabha, mercy upon him. Most likely, he destroyed the formation core and perished in the north."
"Bald monk, say that again and I'll tear your mouth off!"
Rong Yanqiu's temper flared as she lunged forward. "His wife and child are still waiting for him at home!"
"No need to panic," said Ye Fengxiu, cradling his sword. "Wolf Juxu Mountain lies ten thousand li away. Even for a gyrfalcon, the journey there and back takes time. We should wait a bit longer."
On his bed, Lü Ji finished taking his medicine and, now dressed in plain clothes, joined his junior brothers and sisters in waiting.
His expression was complex—clearly worried—but the reason for that worry was difficult to guess.
And so they waited.
Ten full days passed.
At last, a group of gyrfalcons returned, carrying reports written in matching ink and script.
In Liangzhou, inside the Prince's Manor, a grim silence hung over the room.
"General Chen… may never return," said Zhao Wuji, shaking his head with a sigh.
"Yes," agreed the old generals beside him. "Even if it was truly General Chen who destroyed the main formation at Wolf Juxu Mountain, he likely didn't survive."
"Heaven truly envies heroes," another said. "Still, with the Blood Sacrifice Formation broken and the barbarian army crippled, they won't recover for at least ten or twenty years."
"That's true," a general added. "And if this wasn't caused by internal strife among the barbarians, but by General Chen himself, then he truly was Heaven's gift to our Great Sheng Dynasty—a pillar of the realm!
"Once the news is confirmed, I'll personally petition His Majesty to grant him a noble title, posthumous honors, and protection for his descendants."
The Sixth Prince, Cao Huan, sat in the grand armchair, his tone somber.
"My twelfth brother…" he murmured. "I lived in the Western Splendor Palace for nearly twenty years. No one ever came to visit—except him. He used to climb the walls just to bring me food, play chess with me, tell me stories about the outside world.
"When I sent him to the northern campaign, I only wanted him to gain some experience in the army.
"I never imagined… it would end like this."
"Creak—"
Suddenly, the sound of wooden wheels broke the silence.
A wheelchair stopped at the doorway, and Fang Qingyun's clear, composed voice rang out. "Your Highness, generals—don't you think your conclusion might be a little premature?"
He raised a piece of letter paper in his hand.
"General Chen isn't dead. The Hongze Battalion isn't wiped out either. This is the message they just sent back. As for the details—Your Highness and everyone here should read it yourselves."
"What?! General Chen isn't dead?"
"The Hongze Battalion survived?"
"Then that means—it really was General Chen who destroyed the main formation?"
"Impossible!"
"How could he have done that?!"
"Hurry—Your Highness, read it quickly!"
Everyone in the room stood up at once, unable to contain their shock and excitement.
Seeing their eagerness, Cao Huan waved his hand lightly. "Read it aloud," he ordered the young eunuch beside him.
The eunuch unfolded the paper with trembling hands and began reading in a shaky voice.
"Battle report of the Hongze Battalion.
"The Hongze Battalion set out forty days ago from Tiger Hill Mountain, advancing northward. After crossing the Agate River…"
As expected, the report began by recounting the campaign from start to finish—detailing every engagement, every loss, and recording the merits of each officer and soldier.
Everything up to the Agate River was information everyone already knew.
But then—the tone shifted.
The account jumped straight to the barbarian capital!
Beneath Wolf Juxu Mountain, the Hongze Battalion's 13,000 soldiers had formed ranks and charged head-on into an army of 100,000 barbarians.
Their commander, Chen Sanshi, led the vanguard personally.
He alone cut down over 10,000 enemies.
He beheaded five Martial Saints, then, with a single spear strike, killed the High Priest of the Witch God Sect and destroyed the main formation core.
The four barbarian tribes—Yu Wen, Tuoba, Murong, and Duan—bowed their heads and surrendered.
They drank from the frozen rivers, sealed Wolf Juxu Mountain, and performed the Heaven-Sacrificing Ceremony within the barbarian capital.
Afterward, all surviving barbarian troops withdrew beyond the Yin Mountains, swearing never to invade again.
From that moment forth, south of the desert—no more royal court remained!
As the eunuch read, his voice trembled more and more. Each sentence struck like thunder in the ears of those listening.
By the time he finished, the entire hall of the Prince's Manor had fallen into dead silence.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of hearts pounding echoed faintly.
In that silence—they heard the roar of distant thunder.
At nearly the same time, far away in Youzhou, those stationed there also received intelligence from the northern frontier.
When they finished reading, all of them fell into long, stunned silence.
"Junior brother… reached the Martial Saint Realm?!"
"No, that can't be right—even a Martial Saint couldn't kill five Martial Saints!"
"To slay ten thousand enemies without tiring—is he some reincarnated monster?!"
"Amitabha… this poor monk must have sinned too deeply, fallen into illusion… Amitabha, Amitabha!"
But soon, the shock gave way to joy.
"Ha! So it really was our junior brother who saved us!"
"This time, he's earned a merit greater than the heavens themselves!"
"I can't believe it. I need to ask him in person how the hell he pulled that off!"
"Whatever the case—it's a miracle!"
In the corner, Lü Ji sat quietly on a stool, listening.
A sudden heat rose in his chest; his breath caught, and the taste of blood filled his throat.
"Senior Brother!"
Third Brother Nie Yuan, still covered in bandages but able to move freely, rushed over to support him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine…"
Lü Ji raised a hand weakly to reassure him—but before he could finish, he coughed violently and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Help me back to my room… I need to rest."
As they walked, Nie Yuan's face flickered between pride and bitterness. At last, he sighed. "After this battle, our little junior brother will probably be the most respected man in the entire Liangzhou Army—second only to our master who founded the Eight Great Battalions."
"Mhm…" Lü Ji coughed again, pressing a trembling fist to his lips. "Tell me, junior brother—why? I risked everything and still failed, yet he… he charges forward without fear, and the world sings his name?"
"Senior Brother, don't think like that," Nie Yuan said gently. "For now, focus on healing. No matter the outcome, you followed imperial orders, opened the path through Youzhou, and secured the way forward. Even without victory, your merit is undeniable."
At the Grand Commander's Manor, Sun Buqi slammed his hand on the table with delight. "I knew it! I knew it was Sanshi! They wouldn't believe me!"
He laughed loudly, waving the report in his hand. "Yunxi girl, you were right all along!"
"Don't cry, Second Mother," said Chen Yunxi, holding her hand. "Grandmaster will be fine."
"I'm not crying," she murmured, wiping her eyes.
In the Imperial Capital, within the royal palace, the Prince of Qin and the Prince of Qi sat together, drinking merrily.
"The Blood Sacrifice Formation succeeded!"
"Father and Sixth Brother are both gone!"
"The old ministers are already discussing the matter of succession. After all, the empire cannot go a single day without a ruler."
"Fourth Brother, allow me to congratulate you in advance!"
"Waiter—what is it?"
"Your Highnesses…" the trembling servant began.
"Out! Can't you see we're drinking?"
"Your Highness, it's not that—the Emperor has returned and commands all to attend the morning court. Dawn is near—you must prepare at once."
"What?! Father returned?!"
The Blood Sacrifice Formation had lasted nearly two months.
The turmoil had shaken the entire world.
The capital had been thrown into chaos.
After all, the Emperor, two princes, and the Grand Commander were all in Liangzhou. If anything had happened to them, the empire would've fallen into unrest for years.
But now, out of nowhere, news had arrived—
The crisis in Liangzhou was resolved.
The Emperor had returned safely and called for an immediate court session.
Inside Qinghe Hall, civil and military officials gathered in full attendance.
Emperor Longqing sat upright upon the dragon throne, calmly reviewing the mountains of state documents accumulated during his absence.
From dawn until late afternoon, he worked without rest, signing edicts and issuing commands, addressing all pending affairs.
He delegated instructions for future administration with meticulous detail.
To the court officials, it seemed as though His Majesty intended to resolve every matter at once—as if preparing to set everything in order before letting go of the reins entirely.
After giving his final instructions, Emperor Longqing finally spoke in a calm, measured tone. "How goes the war in the northern border?"
The new Minister of War, Ming Qingfeng, stepped forward and answered respectfully. "Liangzhou and Youzhou have both been pacified, Your Majesty. Within two months, all remaining disturbances will be resolved. Please set your mind at ease."
"I," Emperor Longqing paused briefly, his voice dropping lower, "was asking about the movements of the barbarian main forces."
The court froze.
The barbarian main army!
That's right—up to this day, the capital still hadn't received a clear explanation of how the Liangzhou crisis had truly been resolved.
All they knew was that Youzhou had secured victory.
But aside from that, the barbarian clans still had nearly 200,000 troops scattered across the northern deserts, and none of them had moved.
By all logic, after suffering such a crushing defeat at the front, the barbarian homeland should have shown some reaction.
And yet—
The Great Desert was eerily silent.
No activity. No scouts. No sound of drums or hooves.
It was as if every barbarian in the desert had vanished overnight.
Not only that—
Even Great Sheng's own army, the Hongze Battalion, which had gone northward, had yet to send any word.
Chen Sanshi—and the Hongze Battalion—had both disappeared.
To this day, no one knew the full truth of what had happened.
"Your Majesty," said Ming Qingfeng carefully, "this humble servant will continue to monitor the barbarians' movements closely. Any sign of activity will be reported to Your Majesty at once."
"Enough."
Emperor Longqing waved his sleeve. "Court is dismissed."
"Court dis—"
The eunuch standing beside him raised his voice, but before he could finish, a sudden cry rang out from outside the hall.
"Urgent dispatch! Message from eight thousand li away!"
"Urgent dispatch! Message from eight thousand li away!"
"Victory report—!"
"A great victory—!"
The voice carried through the corridors of the palace.
After being passed through several layers of messengers, the report was finally delivered into the hands of Chief Eunuch Huang Hong of the Directorate of Ceremonial Supervision inside Qinghe Hall.
This "victory report" wasn't a single letter, but a box filled with several sealed documents.
The first few—
Were astonishing.
They were letters of submission from the four great barbarian tribes—Murong, Duan, Tuoba, and Yu Wen!
Each letter bore the personal seal of a Great Khan, written in their own hand, with humble, respectful language overflowing with sincerity.
"This must be because His Majesty personally led the campaign! The barbarians were terrified out of their wits!"
"With the Four Tribes submitting, the northern border will see no more war for years!"
"This is the awe of His Majesty's divine might!"
Yan Maoxing stepped forward and declared loudly, "His Majesty has cultivated the Dao for forty years, and this expedition to the north has shaken all under Heaven! The barbarians witnessed the immortal power of the Eternal Sovereign—how could they not kneel in submission?"
Indeed, that was what everyone believed.
No one truly knew how many years the Emperor had spent cultivating.
Civil and military officials alike had long grumbled in private—about the fortune of silver wasted on Daoist rituals, the resources poured into immortal practices. Even the most loyal ministers had secretly doubted him.
But now—in Liangzhou—
His Majesty, dressed in Daoist robes, had slain demonic cultivators with a single sword.
Everyone had seen it.
Now, finally, they understood.
The Emperor's cultivation wasn't a delusion.
It was real.
Their ruler was an immortal!
"His Majesty possesses the True Dragon Body, risking his life to slay the demons himself!"
"The barbarians' courage was shattered—that's only natural!"
"Yes, yes! Lord Li is right!"
Praise filled the hall like a roaring tide.
"Enough," said Emperor Longqing suddenly, his expression unchanged.
His eyes were calm, but inside, he felt something off.
The tone of those letters—the submission was genuine, yet the wording struck him as strange.
"Huang Hong," he said coldly, "keep reading."
As the eunuch read on, the unease deepened.
The further the letters went, the more irregular the contents became.
At first, there were brief mentions of General Chen—nothing unusual.
But soon, his name appeared more and more frequently.
Phrases like "invincible in valor," "unmatched beneath heaven," and "saint of the martial path" appeared again and again.
By the end, General Chen was mentioned more often than the Emperor himself.
The letters weren't military reports; they were formal declarations of surrender. Such letters rarely included battlefield detail.
And yet—from between the lines—a picture was forming.
"This… this…"
"Could it be…"
Yan Maoxing frowned deeply. "Could it be that this Liangzhou crisis was truly resolved because General Chen marched north, reached Wolf Juxu Mountain, and destroyed the main formation core himself?"
"That's impossible!"
The court erupted into murmurs.
Chen Sanshi was merely a general at the Profound Manifestation Realm, commanding a battalion of just over 10,000 men.
The barbarian army in the desert numbered over 200,000. Even if only half had reached Wolf Juxu Mountain, that was still 100,000, not counting the countless Martial Saints among them.
On paper, marching into that battlefield was no different from sending lambs to slaughter.
"Read," Emperor Longqing ordered, his tone heavy.
Huang Hong took out the final sealed report from the box.
It was—
The official battle report from the Liangzhou Army's Hongze Battalion.
"Seventy-fourth year of Longqing, eighteenth day of the twelfth month," he began.
"General Chen Sanshi led all soldiers of the Hongze Battalion to the barbarian capital.
"After formation of battle lines, 13,000 Hongze soldiers faced 112,000 troops of the Four Barbarian Tribes at the foot of the mountain.
"In the opening engagement, General Chen beheaded Martial Saint Murong Huotuo.
"Then, surrounded by four Martial Saints, he slew Martial Saint Yu Wen Ruzhi.
"After crushing the enemy's morale, General Chen led the Hongze Battalion in a full assault, advancing all the way to the summit of Wolf Juxu Mountain. During the battle, General Chen alone slew over 10,000 foes.
"Subsequently, he struck down Martial Saints Tuoba Junfeng, Gu Wen Bilege, and Duan Kui, as well as the High Priest of the Witch God Sect, successfully destroying the main core of the Blood Sacrifice Formation.
"In this battle, over 80,000 of the barbarian coalition were slain.
"The Hongze Battalion suffered 7,361 killed and 2,219 wounded…"
"On the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth month—"
"General Chen Sanshi led all soldiers of the Hongze Battalion in a Heaven-Sacrificing Ceremony atop Wolf Juxu Mountain. Afterward, in the barbarian capital, he performed the Zen Ceremony, during which the Great Khans of the Four Tribes publicly declared allegiance to our Great Sheng Dynasty."
The report was extremely detailed.
But when it was read to the end, the civil and military officials in Qinghe Hall only caught three phrases—
Drinking from the Frozen River!
Sealing Wolf Juxu!
Zen Ceremony in the Barbarian Capital!
These three phrases would one day become idioms recorded in the annals of history.
Each one of them alone was already a monumental military achievement.
But now—they were all accomplished together!
The entire hall fell into utter, deathly silence.
If this battle report was true, what did it mean?
It meant that Chen Sanshi, relying solely on a single battalion of soldiers, had nearly solved a problem that had tormented the Central Plains for hundreds of years—the barbarian threat!
Nearly ten Martial Saints had been killed in total.
Of all the barbarians who survived, perhaps only one or two still lived.
And they had lost 200,000 troops!
By calculation, without at least 50 years, they would never recover their strength.
For the next half century, the northern border would know peace.
Such an achievement…
Even the twelve great generals appointed personally by Emperor Taizu Cao Xie during the founding of the Great Sheng Dynasty had never attained such glory.
In other words—
At only 21 years old, Chen Sanshi's military merit surpassed every hero in the entire history of the dynasty.
Worthy to be enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple!
He was worthy—truly worthy—to be honored in the Temple of Martial Virtue, among the Ten Sages of War!
A living legend.
A true Saint of the Martial Path!
After a long silence lasting the time of a tea's steeping, the court finally began to stir.
Many officials still struggled to breathe normally, their hearts trembling with shock.
Even so, there was no noise or chaos—only hushed whispers spreading through the hall.
"This General Chen… he's only 21, right?"
"21 years old, and he's already achieved this?"
"He's the model for every military man of our generation!"
"With merit like this, he's guaranteed to be ennobled—at least a marquis."
"Judging by merit alone, even a duke's title wouldn't be undeserved…"
"But that's the problem, isn't it?"
"If he's made a duke at 21, and continues to earn more honors in the future…"
"…wouldn't that make him a king of another surname one day?"
"Our Great Sheng Dynasty has never had a foreign-surnamed king since its founding!"
"That's a question for the future."
Upon the dragon throne, Emperor Longqing's face was unreadable. His eyes, however, grew darker and deeper by the second.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty!"
At last, the ministers found their voices.
"The greatest threat to the realm has been destroyed!"
"The northern border shall know no more war!"
"The people of the north rejoice, and the Great Sheng Dynasty is blessed beyond measure!"
"Our dynasty shall endure for ten thousand generations!"
"Yan Liang," Emperor Longqing's imperial voice cut through the chorus of praise, "in the next few days, meet with the Inner Cabinet and decide on General Chen Sanshi's rewards. Once finalized, submit them to the Wanshou Palace for approval."
"This old minister obeys!"
Grand Secretary Yan Liang bowed deeply.
Emperor Longqing rose slowly and left the hall.
Behind the folding screen, he immediately placed several pills into his mouth.
The baleful qi in his body was surging again.
Thankfully, it was only a small amount—but even so, he would need several days to recover.
"Your Majesty?"
Huang Hong, the chief eunuch, hurried forward, but the Emperor gestured for him to stop.
"After so many years…"
Emperor Longqing sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion and exhaled slowly. "My old brother, Sun Xiangzong, will soon depart. A hundred years of life—he's dying in peace. I suppose that's a good death. I've done right by him."
"Indeed," said Huang Hong softly. "Grand Commander Sun rendered great service to the nation, but he also defied Your Majesty more than once. I still recall—back in the 57th year of Longqing, he killed the Minister of War right outside the palace gates.
"Such crimes, committed more than once, were all capital offenses.
"That Your Majesty tolerated him until now shows your boundless mercy and respect for old bonds. You have done right by him—and by every official of this court."
"Yes," Emperor Longqing murmured, eyes still closed. "The northern troubles are gone."
He sighed faintly. "But new ones are rising. Sun Xiangzong—he lied to me. Even at the very end."
"Your Majesty means…?"
Huang Hong's heart trembled slightly, but he dared not ask further. He bowed and quietly withdrew.
Outside the screen, another eunuch raised his voice.
"Court dismissed—!"
Great Qing Empire, Imperial Palace.
Inside the royal study.
"Ah Mei?"
Gu Xinlan had been waiting by the back gate for days before finally seeing a figure in black and gold robes return—the Empress of Great Qing, sword in hand.
She bit her lip anxiously. "How did it go? Why don't I see Shi ge'er?"
"He's at Yin Mountain."
The Empress's long hair fluttered as she walked. The flying sword behind her shrank swiftly, then vanished into her sleeve with a flicker of light.
"Yin Mountain?"
Gu Xinlan's heart jumped.
As a general's wife, her household naturally kept maps. Even without studying them deeply, she knew exactly where that was.
"Oh no…"
Her voice trembled with worry. "Isn't that the barbarian capital? Shi ge'er only had around 10,000 soldiers with him. How could they have fought all the way there?"
"Oh? Elder Sister even knows how many men he commands."
The Empress, Gui Yi, smiled faintly. "It seems your grasp of state affairs has improved."
The war in Great Sheng had shaken the world.
Even with delays in intelligence transmission, the Great Qing Court had received scattered reports.
"Gui Yi," Gu Xinlan pressed anxiously, "did you help Shi ge'er at all? He's alone—what if something happened to him?"
"Why should I help him?"
The Empress entered the hall, her gaze falling on a baby crawling clumsily across a deerskin rug.
"Ah… ah-yi…"
The infant babbled happily, reaching toward her.
"You foolish little mortal—always smiling."
The Empress brushed past without a glance and went straight to her desk.
"Gui Yi?!"
Gu Xinlan's tone turned sharp. "If Yin Mountain was too dangerous for you to intervene, I wouldn't force you. After all, he's my man, not yours. But I saw the red light vanish from the direction of Liangzhou, which means the crisis was resolved. If you stood by and let him die, then you truly have cultivated yourself into a heartless immortal who's forgotten all ties of kinship!"
"Elder Sister—you're actually scolding me for him?"
The Empress's expression turned frost-cold. "Rest assured, he's not dead."
"Really?"
Gu Xinlan realized she had spoken too hastily and quickly stepped forward to grab her sister's hand. "Gui Yi, I really am worried about you. Ever since this time we met, I've felt like something's changed about you. I'm scared that one day, you won't even recognize your own sister anymore."
"Elder Sister," the Empress said calmly, her tone steady and detached, "those who cultivate must seal their hearts from mortal emotions. Otherwise, when the time comes to break through, they may fall into inner demons. These things… you wouldn't understand."
She lightly held her sister's slender hand. "As for that Chen Sanshi, you don't need to worry. He's achieved great merit—he won't die in the desert. Even if he does die, it'll be in Liangzhou."
"Achieved merit—and still has to die?"
Gu Xinlan blinked in confusion. "What kind of logic is that?"
"When one's merit overshadows the throne," the Empress said slowly, "disaster follows. The old Emperor of the Sheng Dynasty is suspicious and narrow-minded by nature. He can't tolerate a regional commander who truly has ability and the people's support. He waited years for Sun Xiangzong to die, and now another of his disciples has risen to power. How can he sleep peacefully at night?"
"The Emperor of the Sheng Dynasty… is really that petty?"
Gu Xinlan frowned, clearly unaware of the deeper political currents. "Then what should we do?"
"It's simple."
The Empress spoke in an even tone. "Write to him. Tell him to come to Great Qing, and I'll make him the Imperial Consort. You'll be reunited as a family, and he'll live in wealth and honor. Isn't that the best of both worlds?"
"I'm afraid Shi ge'er… won't agree to that."
The Great Desert.
The Barbarian Capital.
"Milord!"
"The brothers are ready. We can set off for Liangzhou anytime!"
"You go first," said Chen Sanshi, waving a hand. He turned and looked at the two men standing before him—Great Khan Yu Wen Jinglian and the Ninth Prince, Yu Wen Xin.
Under Chen Sanshi's arrangement, the Yu Wen tribe had been reorganized and granted new territory.
He had then forced the Great Khan to abdicate and let the Ninth Prince, Yu Wen Xin, ascend as the new Khan—after quietly removing a few brothers and uncles who stood in the way.
"Do your best," Chen Sanshi said, patting the young man's shoulder. "I'll wait for you to come back one day and take revenge."
"Alright! You wait!"
Yu Wen Xin straightened his back proudly. "In ten, no, twenty years, I'll lead the warriors of the Heavenly Tribe back to Liangzhou—and take your head!"
Chen Sanshi didn't respond. He simply smiled faintly, turned, and walked out of the barbarian capital. Mounting his White Swan horse, he disappeared into the southern horizon after just a few breaths.
"Ah…"
Yu Wen Jinglian watched the white-clad figure vanish into the distance. Only then did he let out a long breath and finally dare to sit down, trembling.
This time, their tribes had suffered devastating losses.
"Father!"
Yu Wen Xin stepped forward, trying to comfort him. "Don't be sad. I meant what I said—within twenty years, I'll lead our warriors back north to capture that man in white!"
"No! You mustn't! Absolutely not!"
Yu Wen Jinglian's face turned pale with terror. "My son, our Yu Wen tribe has gained much already. You've become the Great Khan. All you need to do now is live in peace and comfort. Don't even think of fighting Liangzhou again! Otherwise, we'll lose everything we have left!"
"Father, what do you mean by that?" Yu Wen Xin frowned. "I admit I'm not strong enough yet. But doesn't that just mean I should work harder and bide my time until I become great?"
"Absolutely impossible!" Yu Wen Jinglian blurted out, almost shouting.
After leaving the barbarian capital, the Hongze Battalion began their long, forced march south, returning toward Liangzhou.
There were too many fallen comrades.
It was impossible to bring all their bodies back.
But along the way, whenever they found one, General Chen personally led the men to dig a resting place and raise a tombstone.
Every single one had a name.
As they journeyed, snowflakes began to drift across the desert.
But this snow—was natural, not the work of sorcery.
When they reached the Agate River, Wang Zhi looked across the vast grasslands. "Later, we can send a few thousand men to garrison this place. The pasture here is excellent—even the barbarians raised many of their best warhorses here. From now on, Liangzhou won't have to worry about horses anymore."
"Yeah," Chen Sanshi said softly, "and every inch of it was bought with the brothers' lives. Speed up the march—we won't make it back before New Year, but maybe we can be home by the Lantern Festival."
Twenty-five days later.
At the gates of Liangzhou City,
hundreds of thousands of civilians gathered outside to welcome them home.
Everyone already knew the truth.
It was General Chen Sanshi and the Hongze Battalion who had driven out the demons and saved all of Liangzhou's millions.
He was their savior—almost like a god.
"I remember right, this General Chen is Grand Commander Sun's last disciple, isn't he?"
"Right, that's him. Taken in not even three years ago."
"Cough, cough…"
An elderly man leaning on a cane said hoarsely, "When I was young, it was Grand Commander Sun who fought those northern wars that gave Liangzhou over twenty years of peace. And now, it's his disciple who's saved us again. Truly, a legacy carried forward!"
"I heard the Grand Commander is quite old and didn't go to war this time. Do you think he'll pass his mantle to General Chen?"
"Does that even need to be asked?"
"But wait, doesn't the Grand Commander also have a senior disciple—General Lü Ji? I've heard many storytellers praise him."
"Maybe so, but he's no match for General Chen!"
"Every battle General Chen fights shakes the heavens!"
"Exactly, exactly!"
"And if Grand Commander Sun ever planned to pass his mantle to that senior disciple, he wouldn't have accepted a new disciple in the first place, right?"
"True enough."
"No matter what, I think General Chen should stay in Liangzhou and take over as Grand Commander."
"Yes, yes."
"Back then, General Chen even helped ferry the refugees across the river. If Liangzhou ever faces danger again, he'll never abandon us!"
"You're right! You're right!"
"Look! He's back!"
Under countless gazes, a rumble spread through the air as dust rose on the wild official road.
The ground trembled faintly beneath the thundering hooves.
First came the banners of Great Sheng, followed by the gilded battle standard with the single character "Chen."
At the front rode a figure in white, astride a white horse.
"Everyone, look—our savior, General Chen!"
"General Chen is our benefactor!"
"Let's thank him properly!"
Even before anyone gave an order, the crowd fell to their knees as one, voices echoing like thunder.
"General Chen, our savior above!"
"Please accept our bow!"
Not far away, Chen Sanshi, seated on his white stallion Qianxun, dismounted when he saw the crowd kneeling before him. "Everyone, please, there's no need for this. It was my duty. My own family lives in this city too. I simply did what I was supposed to do."
"General, don't say that!"
"You've performed a great deed—a blessing for all of us!"
"If it were up to us, we'd build a temple of merit in your honor!"
"Don't say such things."
Chen Sanshi quickly raised his hands. "How could I, Chen Sanshi, ever deserve that kind of honor?"
"Our benefactor!"
"General Chen and his soldiers are all our benefactors!"
"Hey, Old Zhang, didn't your boy serve in the Hongze Battalion?"
Many of the Hongze Battalion soldiers had been transferred from the capital or other provinces, and once stationed in Liangzhou, their families had followed to settle within the city.
"Yeah," the old man sighed, "I told him back then—why leave the capital to come to this barren land? Never thought he'd end up earning such glory."
"This time, he's bound to get a promotion and wealth, huh?"
"Congratulations, brother."
"Wait—Old Zhang, I remember your boy helped me carry water once. I don't see him here… where is he?"
"Thud."
The old man's heart sank. Already on his knees, his frail body slumped completely to the ground.
The mood among the people shifted—joy gave way to sorrow.
7,000 soldiers had died.
Assuming an average of five family members per household, that meant over 30,000 families had lost their pillar of support.
For those 30,000, their sky had fallen.
"Everyone, please—get up," said Chen Sanshi softly.
He moved among them, helping each person to their feet one by one.
Looking at their vacant, grief-filled eyes, he finally spoke:
"The sons and husbands who followed me into battle and never returned— it's because I, Chen Sanshi, lacked the ability to bring them all home.
"But I swear to you—their deaths will not be in vain. Because of their sacrifice, Liangzhou and all of the northern border will have peace for decades to come."
"I promise that every single name will be reported to the court. The imperial government will not neglect your families.
"And I, Chen Sanshi, will never forget you."
After consoling the bereaved families, the rest of the townsfolk came forward, offering gifts—eggs, flour, vegetables, and even cured meats and salted duck eggs from those who were better off.
"My lord," said Zhao Kang, looking troubled, "what should we do? According to military discipline, the Grand Marshal forbade us from accepting offerings from civilians. He said it would lead to corruption or abuse of power. But the people won't stop—they're forcing gifts into our hands."
"Wang Li."
Chen Sanshi turned and called to one of his officers. "Take some men and record every name, along with what each person gave. Later, we'll repay them with equal value in rice and grain."
"Yes, sir," Wang Li answered, saluted with a fist to his chest, and hurried off to carry out the order.
The march into the city took over half an hour.
Lan Jie'er was not there, and Sun Li couldn't be seen either.
The only ones waiting for him were Sun Buqi and Chen Yunxi.
"Father!"
Little Chen Yunxi ran forward holding a string of candied hawthorns. "Xixi sold her calligraphy to buy this for you!"
"Oh? You're already earning money, huh?"
Chen Sanshi smiled, lifting her up onto the horse. "But tell me, why buy candied hawthorns?"
"Because last time, Father said he really liked them!"
Chen Yunxi's answer was serious and sweet.
"I did say that," Chen Sanshi said, biting into one with a faint smile.
He turned to look at Sun Buqi. "You've got something to say, don't you?"
"It's about my father," Sun Buqi said gravely. "He told me to bring you straight to the mansion once you returned."
Master…
Chen Sanshi nodded slowly.
Yes—it was time to see the old man.
"Alright, I understand."
He urged his horse forward, galloping toward the Grand Marshal's Residence.
By the lake pavilion behind the mountain, he found Sun Xiangzong fishing.
Surprisingly, the old man's basket was brimming with fish this time.
He was removing a huge catfish from the hook, smiling broadly. "Heh, this old man's finally mastered it before the end!"
"Master."
Chen Sanshi bowed with a clasped fist. "Your disciple has returned."
"Well done. Better than I expected," Sun Xiangzong said, then paused. "But I didn't call you here to praise you. I want to ask what you plan to do next."
"Plan to do…?" Chen Sanshi looked puzzled. "Master, what do you mean?"
"You have two paths ahead," said Sun Xiangzong, re-baiting his hook and casting it back into the lake. "First, you can take your senior sister and the others, leave this place, and find somewhere quiet to live in seclusion. I still have some friends out there who can help arrange things for you. But given your current fame, it's hard to say how long you could stay hidden."
"The second," the old man continued, "is to stay here in Liangzhou—lead your soldiers, keep training, and face whatever comes next. That path will bring endless trouble."
He turned his head slightly, eyes sharp beneath his aged brows.
"I'll take you to meet a few people."
"Now," he asked calmly, "which path will you choose?"