South of the Southwest, in Yu State.
Two days ago, a heavy rain fell from a cloudless sky.
For those on the battlefield, this was not an auspicious sign. Rain from a clear sky was seen as the blood of warriors—a terrible omen. Even a fierce and warlike man like Prince Yongdong had to bow to the will of the heavens and temporarily halt all military action.
The Da Cheng Army was camped at the edge of a dense forest. After days of forced marches and continuous battle, the soldiers were already exhausted.
So, in a way, this cloudless rain had come at the right time.
A Shadow Guard lifted the curtain flap and entered the command tent. He removed his bamboo hat and rain cloak, then walked inside.
A brazier burned within the tent, driving out the dampness. At the center stood a man in a simple black robe, his hair bound by a jade coronet, studying a military sand table.
The Shadow Guard stepped forward and presented a secret letter with both hands. "My lord."
