Volume III, Real Ancient Capital, Chapter 78: Killing True Brightness

An Ungrateful Beast

"An ungrateful beast! Say it again!"

Suddenly, a fierce wind swept through, and Zhao Hao pulled a knife from his waist. His rosy green robe billowed against the cold, resembling an eagle tearing through the sky. The man stood, calm yet poised, with a fierce look in his eyes and a face marred by hardship. The royal demeanor of Daxia's ruling family came alive in him instantly.

Yan Xun's calm, gentle expression shifted. His face turned cold, and he glanced at Zhao Song with narrowed eyes.

Behind Yan Xun, the dark night loomed. Beneath his iron boots, the entire imperial city quivered. In his ears, the crumbling sounds of the decaying Golden Palace reverberated. His voice, cold as a blade, came from the corner of his mouth: "Ingratitude? Yanbei and Daxia... what are you to me?"

Zhao Song sneered. "The Emperor nurtured you for ten years, treating you as one of his own. Not only did he appoint you the king of Yanbei, but he also showed you endless favor. And how did you repay him? You turned traitor, slaughtered the people of the capital, and revealed your treacherous ambitions. Your betrayal deserves punishment!"

The wind whipped around the man in the black robe as he let out a low laugh. "Ten years of nurturing? Treated like his own?" His voice was laced with disdain. "The blood of Shang Gao Plateau still stains the quiet bench, unforgotten. Zhao Song, is this the 'monstrous grace' you speak of from your Zhao family?"

Zhao Song's brow furrowed, and he replied sternly, "Yanbei Wang rebelled, and the imperial army was sent to restore order. Justice demands—"

"Enough!" Yan Xun cut him off, his voice brimming with impatience. "You need not say more. History is written by the victors, and our descendants will decide the truth in a thousand years. There's no point in us arguing now. Zhao Song, for the sake of our past, I'll let you go today. Go back and tell them I've returned."

At that moment, gunfire sounded in the southern city. The explosion of fireworks lit up the sky, casting red reflections across the city. Yan Xun's dark eyes gleamed like stars but were as firm as iron.

AC Afterthoughts: Yan Xun's character emerges as deeply conflicted and driven by a powerful sense of betrayal. The clash between his past with the imperial family and his loyalty to Yanbei highlights his evolution from a nurtured prince to a hardened rebel. The theme of loyalty and betrayal is central, as Yan Xun and Zhao Song's confrontation showcases how personal emotions are tied to political struggles. This chapter sets the tone for a story where historical events are interpreted differently based on perspective, suggesting a broader commentary on power, memory, and justice.

Zhao Song stared at Yan Xun, his expression hardening. "Eight years of protection," Chu Qiao whispered as she looked toward the soldiers beside Zhao Song. Memories of long-past events surfaced in her mind. Before Meilin Snow Park, the boy in green jade robes had once shouted at her, calling for her attention.

She sighed, her gaze fixed on the man on horseback. "I never wished to be your enemy. Eight years of safeguarding your life, and I have never forgotten."

Zhao Song's anger slowly faded. "A Chu... come back with me. Don't follow him. I will ensure the Emperor—"

"But I must go against the entire Great Summer Empire." The words spilled from Chu Qiao's lips, freezing Zhao Song in place. "You should understand my position has never changed."

Zhao Song let out a bitter laugh, his eyes reddened. "Then we are enemies."

With a violent gesture, Zhao Song slammed his sword to the ground, etching a white mark into the stone. "From now on, if I see you on the battlefield, I'll treat you as nothing more than a foe!"

Zhao Chun'er, seemingly lost in her thoughts, suddenly came to life at Zhao Song's voice. She reached out for Yan Xun's boots, but he withdrew them. Her small hand hung in the air, bloodied from a recent encounter. It was the first time she had killed someone.

She collapsed, vomiting violently, her gorgeous wedding gown stained with the remnants of her guilt.

"Why?" she cried, her face pale. "Why wasn't I by your side when Father and Brother needed me?"

AC Afterthoughts: Chu Qiao's unwavering loyalty to Yan Xun, despite knowing the weight of her actions, reveals her inner strength. The stark contrast between Chu Qiao's resolve and Zhao Chun'er's fragility provides a poignant commentary on the roles of women in this tumultuous period. The emotional weight of betrayal, loyalty, and regret is deeply felt, especially in Chun'er's breakdown. Her innocence contrasts sharply with the violent world around her, creating a sense of tragedy.

The sudden roar of battle erupted in the distance as Yan Xun, and Chu Qiao shared a quiet, tense moment. Chu Qiao was restless, her eyes scanning the scene. "Have they not arrived yet?"

Yan Xun shook his head quietly. "No, not yet."

"If we wait any longer, the army of the Southwest Town Government will be annihilated."

Yan Xun remained firm. "We must wait. If we retreat now, the imperial forces will pursue us."

Chu Qiao clenched her fists. "But our people are dying!"

Yan Xun's expression softened slightly, though his words were resolute. "A'Chu, trust me. I have plans."

Chu Qiao's frown deepened. "Yan Xun, do you truly trust them?"

"I don't trust them—I trust myself."

In the distance, the sounds of battle grew louder. Chu Qiao's frustration was palpable, but she knew Yan Xun wouldn't be swayed. "If you don't come back alive, I'll avenge you," she muttered under her breath, her heart heavy with dread.

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter deepens the tension between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao. Their bond, born of survival and trust, is evident, yet cracks of doubt begin to show. Yan Xun's growing reliance on his cunning and strategies underscores his transformation into a pragmatic, ruthless leader. Meanwhile, Chu Qiao's humanity and concern for their people reveal her growing disillusionment with the harsh reality of their struggle.

A Turning Point of Betrayal

At that moment, a gunpowder shop in the south of the city ignited, and suddenly there was a loud bang. Fireworks exploded into the sky, painting it with reds and oranges. The reflections danced across the burning city, casting vivid colors in the night. Yan Xun's eyes darkened like the morning star in the sky—brilliant, yet as firm as iron.

For eight years, I have moved forward on this path. Will you still marry into Daxia and bear the wrath of this evil?

"You!"

"Zhao Song!" A sharp voice interrupted. Chu Qiao had spoken. "Zhao Song, go back."

"Achu?" Zhao Song frowned, his voice softening. "Would you stand against me as well?"

Chu Qiao stared at him. Behind Zhao Song were jagged lines of soldiers, and behind them, the empire was consumed by a sea of fire. Everything felt like a distant dream. Time flowed around her, pulling her back to years long gone. She remembered a boy from Meilin Snow Park, dressed in a jade-green robe, shouting at her: "It's you! I'm calling you!"

Those memories flashed by like a vision blurred by rain and blood. She looked up again at the man before her, and with a steady voice, she said, "I never wanted to be your enemy. For eight years, I protected you. I never forgot that."

Zhao Song's expression softened briefly, and he let out a sigh of relief. His voice was calmer now as he said, "Then come back with me, A Chu. Don't follow him. I'll bring you to Father…"

"But I must stand against the entire Great Summer Empire." Her words rang out clearly and struck Zhao Song like a blow. His body stiffened, and his face paled as Chu Qiao stood resolutely by Yan Xun's side. "You should know that my stance has never changed."

Zhao Song's voice faltered. "Well," he said with a sorrowful smile, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse. "Even if I was blind to see it."

With a loud clang, Zhao Song drew his sword and knelt, carving a deep white mark into the stone beneath him. His fierce face twisted with emotion as he declared, "From now on, Zhao Song and you two are as good as strangers. With one stroke of this blade, we sever all ties. If I meet you on the battlefield, we will not be friends—we will be enemies! Chun'er, follow me!"

Zhao Chun'er, standing nearby, was as lifeless as a doll. She looked up suddenly at the sound of her brother's voice, her eyes watery and vacant. Her pale hand reached out to touch Yan Xun's boot. But Yan Xun frowned slightly and stepped back, leaving her hand hanging in the air. Blood stained her fingers, blood that had spilled in her first act of killing.

With a retching sound, Zhao Chun'er collapsed to her knees, vomiting uncontrollably. Stomach acid splattered across her once-gorgeous wedding gown, now stained with the remnants of innocence lost in a world of bloodshed and war.

"Why?" she whispered. Her face was pale, her tears cold and steady. She looked up, her voice trembling with quiet sorrow. "Why wasn't I there when Father and Brother needed me? Why wasn't Chun'er by their side?"

In a pained voice, she continued, "Over the years, I've regretted it. If only Chun'er had been there, maybe I couldn't have saved the Yan prince, but I could have protected you, Brother. But I was too young. Mother locked me away in the hall, and no matter how I cried, they wouldn't let me out. Xiao Tao helped me escape. We climbed onto the roof, but we fell... and it woke Mother."

Zhao Chun'er sobbed, her voice shaking, tears falling. "Then... then they killed Xiao Tao in front of me. I saw it. Her waist was broken, and blood poured from her mouth... so much blood... it soaked my boots, burning hot."

"Oh, Brother, I'm useless. I'm too afraid to run anymore. For two years, I couldn't even visit your yard. I'm terrified. I'm a coward. I have nightmares all the time—the blood surrounds me, choking me, drowning me. I see it everywhere—in my mouth, in my eyes, it never stops."

Zhao Chun'er hugged her shoulders and shrank into herself, trembling as if the blood were rising again to suffocate her. She looked up, her voice cracking, "But, Brother, do you have to rebel? Father will kill you. He won't force you into anything. He just wants you to live a peaceful life. Even if the royal family is blind to your worth, it's fine as long as we live quietly."

Yan Xun frowned and turned away, refusing to meet her gaze. The air around him grew cold, and his expression hardened.

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter starkly contrasts the unyielding determination of the main characters with the broken spirit of Zhao Chun'er. Yan Xun stands firm, resolute in his rebellion against the empire, embodying the iron will that comes from years of oppression and betrayal. Meanwhile, Chu Qiao, though also resolute, presents a more conflicted, introspective side of the rebellion, understanding the gravity of her decision but remaining unshaken.

Zhao Chun'er, on the other hand, represents innocence lost in the brutality of war. Her breakdown reflects the traumatic toll the political turmoil has on those caught in the middle, particularly the women who are often sidelined or victimized by the events around them. Her emotional outpouring adds a tragic dimension to the scene, portraying the psychological scars of violence, loss, and regret.

This chapter effectively sets the stage for the final severing of ties between Zhao Song, Chu Qiao, and Yan Xun, crystallizing the theme of how war changes relationships and forces people to choose sides, often at great personal cost.

Clash of Wills

"Chun'er! Come here!"

Zhao Song shouted furiously.

Suddenly, with a "pop," Zhao Chun'er fell to her knees. She scrambled forward and, with trembling hands, reached up to touch Yan Xun's robe. Her voice broke as she cried out, "Brother, please don't rebel! Chun'er is begging you!"

Zhao Song's eyes flared with anger as he bellowed, "Chun'er! What are you doing?" He spurred his horse forward, but the Datong guild fighters immediately stepped in, blocking his way. They stood in front of Yan Xun, arms raised defensively, water dripping coldly from their blades.

"Yan Xun, Brother! Chun'er begs you! The Emperor will kill you! He'll send someone to take your life!"

Zhao Chun'er cried uncontrollably, but Yan Xun remained indifferent. His gaze wandered upward, and the wind tugged at his black robes. His face, cast in the moonlight, looked like a figure carved from stone—a dark god, unmoved by the world's pleas.

At that moment, a violent clash broke out in the distance, and a golden flame erupted over the southern part of the city. Yan Xun and Chu Qiao turned their heads simultaneously, their expressions growing serious.

"The Nineteenth Division has broken through!" a scout cried. "Yan Xun, if you don't want everyone here to die, you must leave now!"

Zhao Song, pushing back a fellow paladin, shouted again, "Yan Xun! There's no more time!"

Yan Xun nodded slowly and turned his horse around, riding toward the south without hesitation. Zhao Chun'er, unbalanced, collapsed to the ground. Chu Qiao and the black-armored warriors swiftly followed Yan Xun, rushing through the chaos. As they rode off, Chu Qiao looked back to see Zhao Chun'er crying on the ground and Zhao Song, standing tall beside his sister, holding a long knife in his hand. The wind whipped through his clothes, making him appear worn and weathered, as if the ink-black sky had painted him into a tragic figure.

Eight years of companionship, now reduced to mere speculation and forgotten moments.

When you walked into that sanctuary with Yan Xun, the ending of this day was already sealed. Thirteenth Prince, I have finally let go of the kindness we once shared.

"Drive!"

With that, Chu Qiao cracked the whip and sped away, leaving behind the memories of those eight wandering years. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead, focused on the black eagle flying before her.

The stench of blood and death filled the air. On Nan'an Avenue, the unruly mob had been repelled. The officers and soldiers of the southwestern town government stood their ground, shielded from the hail of arrows and stones. The guards of the ten divisions, wielding their bloodstained swords, continued to fight fiercely. The royal army, unstoppable and iron-willed, pushed steadily toward the inner city of the imperial capital, crushing every obstacle in their path.

A scout galloped back to Yan Xun with a grim report. Yan Xun sat on his horse, silent, his expression unreadable, his thoughts hidden.

Chu Qiao stared into the distance and asked quietly, "Is it time yet?"

Yan Xun shook his head, his voice low and calm. "Not yet."

"Our casualties are heavy. How much longer do we wait?"

Yan Xun's eyes remained fixed ahead. "We must wait."

Chu Qiao took a deep breath, her brow furrowed. "Yan Xun, if we wait any longer, the southwestern town government's army will be annihilated."

"The commanders of the 12th and 30th divisions are still watching. If we retreat now, the imperial city will receive fresh reinforcements. We won't have peace on the road back to Yanbei, and we'll be hunted like dogs."

"But if we stay, our people will suffer heavy losses! Even organizing the wounded and arranging our retreat will throw us into chaos."

Yan Xun frowned slightly but then shook his head. "Don't worry. I have everything planned."

"Yan Xun…"

"A'Chu, leave the city first."

Chu Qiao hesitated for a moment, then frowned, her voice cold. "I won't."

"A'Chu," Yan Xun said gently, despite the battlefield of death and destruction around them. "Go out of the city first. Help A'Jing arrange the preparations for crossing the river at Chishui Lake. He's rough and heavy-handed, and I don't feel comfortable leaving it to him."

"No," Chu Qiao stubbornly shook her head. "I want to stay with you."

Yan Xun's expression hardened, and his voice grew stern. "A'Chu, this is not the time for childishness."

"The swords are already drawn, and the 12th and 30th divisions are ready to strike. How can I leave you now?"

Yan Xun chuckled softly. "Silly girl, I'm not alone. Thousands of soldiers from the southwest town government are with me. You don't need to worry."

Chu Qiao's voice wavered, "The southwest town government has just gone through a leadership change. Who knows if they'll stay loyal? How can I trust them?"

"If they aren't reliable, even if you stay, we won't escape. A'Chu, remember what you taught me: 'If you doubt people, don't use them. If you use people, don't doubt them.'"

Chu Qiao looked at Yan Xun, her gaze filled with uncertainty. "Yan Xun, do you really trust them?"

"I don't trust them—I trust myself."

Suddenly, the sharp blast of sirens echoed through the city, followed by the whistling of arrows and the clash of swords. Blood spilled under the dark sky as Yan Xun's black robe fluttered in the wind. His eyes, cold and sharp, glinted like stars as he surveyed the bloody battlefield. His voice was calm but full of conviction, "They have no way out but to stand by me. There may still be some hope for survival, but if they betray me, they'll become traitors, despised by both Yanbei and the Empire."

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter is a powerful moment in the story, where loyalty, trust, and survival are tested. Yan Xun's strategic mind is at odds with Chu Qiao's emotional concern for their people. While she is focused on saving lives, Yan Xun is playing a long game, understanding that his victory hinges on timing and loyalty.

Zhao Chun'er's desperate pleas add emotional weight to the scene. Her fear of rebellion, knowing the fate that awaits her brother, contrasts sharply with Yan Xun's cold determination to push forward. The scene underscores the personal costs of war, as families are torn apart and friendships are severed.

Yan Xun's hardened resolve is emphasized as he distances himself from emotion, trusting in his plans and his ability to outmaneuver his enemies. Chu Qiao's persistent challenge to his strategy shows the tension between pragmatism and compassion, highlighting her internal struggle between her loyalty to Yan Xun and her desire to protect their people.

The violent clash between ideals, the inevitability of betrayal, and the weight of past relationships add layers of tension that drive the narrative forward.

The Unrelenting Wind of War

"However," Chu Qiao said softly, barely able to keep her emotions in check, "this war is taking too much from you. I fear it is eroding your kindness."

Yan Xun sneered. "My father was too kind, too trusting, and he died on the plateau of Yanbei because of it. I will not be like him."

In that moment, Yan Xun's face seemed to darken as if shrouded by a black mist. Chu Qiao was taken aback. She looked up at him, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Yan Xun?"

Yan Xun glanced down at her with a smile. Then, from his horse, he gently wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders. "A'Chu, trust me. Wait for me at Chishui. We'll leave together."

As the wind blew, Chu Qiao felt a sudden chill run through her. She gripped his waist tightly, her voice catching in her throat with barely concealed sobs.

"Yan Xun, if you don't come back alive, I will avenge you."

The wind swept through the dark streets, and the distant sounds of battle felt far away, like echoes of another world. The young king of Yanbei, with pride in his posture, tilted her chin with a light touch, his lips curling into a faint smile. Their eyes locked, brimming with unspoken emotion. For eight years, they had shared life and death, supporting one another, their connection ingrained deep in their souls. Yan Xun's eyes, calm and deep as the ocean, reflected his steadfast resolve. He murmured, "A'Chu, there is something I've wanted to do for a long time."

Chu Qiao's pale cheeks, tinged red by the fire's glow, turned slightly crimson. She looked up at him, her smile gentle. "What are you waiting for?"

"Haha!" Yan Xun laughed heartily, and without hesitation, he leaned down and pressed his lips gently to hers.

In that moment, Chu Qiao closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift into the endless abyss of memories—memories of the eight long years of struggle and survival. The soldiers, the fire, and the chaos seemed to fade away as she sank into the warmth of that kiss. Meanwhile, the grand halls of the imperial capital trembled under the weight of howling winds and roaring flames. The magnificent golden sanctuary, ablaze, with its towering pillars of gold, witnessed the empire's nobles in stunned disbelief at what they were seeing.

Eight years ago, no one would have believed that two children with nothing but dirt beneath their feet would one day rise to such power.

Eight years later, no one could deny it. The once humble children had grown into a fierce tiger, now baring its sharp claws and tearing down the walls of the imperial capital. They were on the brink of breaking free from the muddy, oppressive world that had once held them captive.

"A'Chu, wait for me!" Yan Xun called out.

"Of course," Chu Qiao smiled, letting go of him. "Let the steeds of Yanbei trample the snow beneath them. Yan Xun, I will be waiting for you!"

The wind howled as the young girl whispered her parting words. Surrounded by her guards, she rode toward the northwest gate, disappearing into the night.

Yan Xun watched as her figure gradually faded into the darkness. Beneath the vast night sky, he sat tall on his horse, his posture like a tree rooted in the plateau, unwavering and resolute. "History will not remember the details of those who lived. It will only remember the results. And it is the victor who writes that ending."

"Your Highness! The twelfth division remains in place, and the thirty-sixth division's soldiers and horses are mobilizing!" a scout reported urgently.

Yan Xun nodded, his voice low but decisive. "It is time."

A brilliant light cut through the night sky as dazzling fireworks erupted, bathing the horizon in blue and white flashes that caught the eyes of every soul beneath them.

On a desolate plain, a troop of horses moved swiftly. The moment they saw the fireworks, they came to an abrupt halt.

"The full counterattack has begun," Chu Qiao murmured to herself, her expression tough but focused. In her mind, she sent a silent prayer to the one she called by his secret name, Swallow. "Take care."

"Drive!" she commanded.

The sharp wind howled as the young girl spurred her horse forward, leading the charge toward the Chishui Red Cliff. On a tall tower nearby, a figure stood resolute, holding a goblet of strong wine. His voice was powerful as he addressed his soldiers. "Warriors! The honor of Yanbei rests on your shoulders. The thousands of fathers and sons of the Yanbei Plateau are watching us today. We fight not only for ourselves but for their triumphant return!"

The soldiers, tens of thousands strong, raised their weapons and shouted in unison, "His Royal Highness! Long live Yanbei!"

"Yanbei will not die!" their voices thundered through the empire. Even within the Shen Jin Palace, chaos reigned as the echoes of the battle cries reached their ears.

Yan Xun unsheathed his sword, his voice clear and unrelenting as he shouted into the cold night, "Yanbei's warriors! You are eagles, meant to fly free. You are not bound by golden armor. Take your blades and show the imperial concubines the true meaning of Yanbei's strength!"

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter shows the emotional and psychological depth of both Yan Xun and Chu Qiao as they face the most critical moments of their rebellion. Yan Xun's shift toward cold pragmatism, spurred by the betrayal and death of his father, is starkly contrasted by Chu Qiao's concerns about the toll the war is taking on his humanity. Her fear that the conflict will erode his kindness provides a glimpse of the toll leadership and vengeance are taking on him.

The kiss between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao adds a tender, intimate moment amid the chaos of battle. It reinforces their bond and shared history of struggle and sacrifice. The looming presence of history as Yan Xun contemplates the legacy they will leave behind highlights the theme of power, survival, and how war changes people.

Yan Xun's speech to his troops reflects his unwavering determination and his belief that Yanbei's warriors are not bound by conventional rules—they are fighting for their freedom, and there's no turning back now.

The Ruthlessness of Victory

"Yanbei's army soul!"

The warriors' spirits were ignited. They stood tall and turned back into the fray to kill their enemies several times over. Fierce street battles erupted in the capital's streets and around the lakes. Even the southwestern town government, long regarded as weak, unleashed its fury, allowing the officers and soldiers to fight like fierce lions, roaring through the streets of the imperial capital. Their blades cut into the hearts of their enemies with relentless precision.

"Little Master," the two brothers of the Grand Peer Association, Fang Rui and Fang Cang, hurried to the tower, speaking in urgent tones. "The southwestern town government has carved out a bloody path, and both the 12th and 30th divisions have suffered severe losses. Shouldn't we leave the city?"

"No," Yan Xun shook his head firmly. "It's not enough."

Fang Rui and Fang Cang exchanged uneasy glances. They could see the concern in each other's eyes. By all plans, they should have retreated by now, but their lord was pushing forward. Was this decision driven by hatred, clouding his judgment?

"The elite of the empire still remain. We cannot withdraw yet," Yan Xun said coldly.

"The elite?" Fang Cang asked, confused. "I don't understand. The Xiaoqi and Green Army officers are gone, the southwestern town government has taken heavy losses, and both the 29th and 36th divisions have been devastated. We've already won."

"So what if the officers are gone?" Yan Xun's voice was sharp. "The Daxia Empire can still send reinforcements."

"What does Your Highness mean?" Fang Rui asked, his brows furrowed.

Yan Xun's sword-like eyebrows drew together, his eyes cold as he looked out over the torch-lit tower. He stood there in a white robe, draped in a white cloak embroidered with a winged eagle, the symbol of Yanbei's fierce resolve.

"We must remove the roots, or the spring breeze will bring them back again. Gather all our forces and follow me to the imperial capital's Shangwu Tang. I want to see a summer dynasty crippled for the next three years, without a single commander capable of leading for the next ten!"

Fang Rui and Fang Cang were taken aback. They stared at the black-robed man before them, their usual calm lord now radiating an aura of murderous intent. The air around him was thick with a surge of bloodlust, like a flood sweeping through the Imperial City, drowning everything in its path.

This monstrous killing was only the beginning. In this moment, the true emperor's destruction had been set into motion by this man's hand. The blade of fate had pierced through the night, tearing through the ancient city. Many years later, the world may not remember the names of Zhao Zhengde or Tang Huai Song, but it would surely recall the weight of this day: May 20th, when Yan Xun ordered the massacre of three thousand Shangwu Tang students, the empire's most elite force, who perished in one night.

Under the red glow of the fire, the entire Shangwu Tang was engulfed in chaos. Due to the absence of leadership and the uncertainty of the situation, the empire's finest elites were thrown into disarray. They hesitated, holding their positions and failing to act as soldiers of the Security Department should. At that moment, despite their training, they retained their full combat readiness but were paralyzed by indecision.

Three hours later, a sudden fire erupted from outside the building. The doors had been sealed, and the officers lost precious time to extinguish the flames. The fire spread rapidly, consuming Shangwu Tang like a storm, engulfing every corner. Towering pillars of flame shot into the sky, devouring the last glimmer of hope for this empire.

Desperate cries pierced the air as some students tried in vain to open the doors. On the other side, vigilant Yanbei soldiers rained arrows down upon them, cutting off any chance of escape. Amidst the chaos, the trapped soldiers saw their fate reflected in the Yanbei warriors who stood, silent and unyielding, like shadows of death in the corners of the imperial capital. Panic gripped them.

"Yan Xun! Yan Xun is here!" the officers screamed, their voices filled with terror.

"Yan Xun has come! Yanbei's rebellion is upon us!"

In the blink of an eye, the three thousand elite soldiers, poised to strike, were utterly defeated without even engaging in battle. After the fighting died down, Fang Rui remarked coldly, "Their morale is broken. There's no need for further combat. Burn it down. Stay here, and don't let a single soul escape."

"Yan Xun! If you're brave enough, come face me!" Wei Shu Han, a rising star of the Wei family, shouted defiantly. He swung his sword, but before he could take a step, an arrow pierced his throat. His eyes widened in disbelief as he fell, engulfed by the raging fire.

Yan Xun didn't spare him a glance. He mounted his horse, reorganized his troops, and ordered, "Follow me to the Xiaoqi camp."

That evening, the southwestern town government launched its assault. The officers and soldiers of the Security Department died in the chaos created by the mobs. The twelfth and thirtieth divisions, along with the southwestern town government, engaged in fierce battles, resulting in massive casualties. Later, Yan Xun's forces dismantled the remaining troops from the imperial capital's Shangwu Tang, annihilating those in the southern camp, the seventh army, and the Imperial Capital's army, who were protected by the chiefs.

With their numbers dwindling, Yan Xun gave the order to open the gates of the Nancheng Terracotta Warriors. He led the remaining ten battalions and two thousand officers into the square, and, using arrows and fire, wiped out the last of the resistance. Then, the cavalry charged, trampling over the soldiers with their horses. More than 1,800 were crushed, and the remaining 2,000 were left disabled. The square was filled with the bodies of the dead, a sea of mourning and loss.

When Fang Rui suggested they finish off the remaining survivors, Yan Xun shook his head coldly and said, "Leave these broken ones for Zhao Zhengde."

By four o'clock in the morning, the sky had darkened further, and the entire empire was in disarray. Few soldiers remained in the barracks. Upon returning from the Imperial Court at Yamen Gate, the team reported that the government officials had already fled. They had killed more than one officer and returned to a capital in ruins.

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter paints a stark picture of war's brutality and the toll it takes on both the victors and the defeated. Yan Xun's relentless pursuit of victory, his refusal to retreat even when his forces have clearly won, demonstrates the depths of his strategic mindset and his determination to crush the empire entirely. His goal is not just to win but to obliterate any future threat, ensuring that Daxia will be crippled for years to come.

The massacre at Shangwu Tang, where the empire's most elite soldiers are slaughtered without a chance to fight, is a chilling moment that highlights Yan Xun's ruthlessness. His refusal to engage in honor-bound combat, choosing instead to burn the institution to the ground and leave its survivors for others to deal with, marks a sharp contrast from the idealistic prince he once was. The scale of violence unleashed in this chapter is monumental, and the empire's complete collapse is foreshadowed through Yan Xun's cold, calculated decisions.

The loyalty of his men, though shaken, remains steadfast as they follow his every command without question. The once calm and composed Yan Xun has transformed into a man driven by revenge and the desire to leave no enemies standing.

A Sudden Realization

In the imperial city, with only three thousand defenders left, along with the remnants of the Southwest Town Government's forces and the Three-Guardian Army led by the Shiji family, there were no other armed forces to oppose the rebellion.

"Lord, the Southwest Town Government has retreated. It's time for us to leave the city," urged one of Yan Xun's commanders.

"Well," Yan Xun said, nodding slowly as he surveyed the scorched, ancient city. "It is time to go."

"That's the territory under the Southwest Town Government's control," another officer added.

"Stop," Yan Xun said coolly, casting a sharp look at Xi Rui. "When did I say we'd be leaving with the Southwest Town Government?"

Xi Rui was stunned. "Lord?"

Yan Xun turned calmly, his voice measured and firm. "The Southwest Town Government has made a heroic sacrifice, staying behind to resist the blades of the Imperial Three-Guardian Army. They've done this to preserve Yanbei's strength and loyalty. They are an example for future soldiers."

Xi Rui frowned, stepping forward quickly to protest, "But, my Lord—"

Before he could finish, a fellow officer grabbed him, covering his mouth to stop him from speaking.

"General Xi Rui, please don't question the loyalty of the Southwest Town Government. They've hidden within the imperial capital for years, waiting for this battle of life and death. We have no right to doubt their bravery and loyalty," the officer said urgently, knowing full well how dangerous it was to oppose Yan Xun now.

Yan Xun's expression remained calm as he spoke again, his voice gentle but carrying the sharpness of a blade. "Indeed. Their courage in the face of overwhelming odds should serve as an example for all soldiers today."

The officer holding Xi Rui tightened his grip, fearing that Xi Rui might say something that could provoke Yan Xun's wrath. Yan Xun's calm exterior masked the ruthless decisiveness he'd shown throughout the battle, and no one doubted he would act on it.

"The entire army will retreat through the north gate," Yan Xun ordered. "Once we're out, seal the gates behind us."

The horses galloped out of the city, and the heavy gates slammed shut. Outside, the army of the Southwest Town Government, who had been left behind, found themselves alone on the battlefield. Panic began to spread among the soldiers as they realized they had been abandoned.

"Your Highness! What about us?" desperate voices cried out in unison. "We were abandoned! Betrayed!"

Fear spread through the ranks like wildfire. Soldiers scrambled out of the trenches, running in all directions as they screamed, "What do we do? We've been left behind!"

"Brothers, fight!" a commander, Fang Baixuan, shouted, trying to rally the men. His voice was loud and commanding, even as the blood from the battlefield smeared his face.

The soldiers of the ten divisions shouted together, trying to regroup as they saw a new figure appear before them, dressed in shining white armor with a blue sword. The man was Zhao Che, cutting a heroic figure as he charged forward, determined to hold the line.

"The Seventh Prince! The Seventh Prince's reinforcements are here!"

Zhao Che, leading the imperial city defenders, heard his brother Zhao Xiang pull at his reins. "Fourteenth Brother, Father has sent you to join the battle. Why are you making things more complicated?"

Zhao Yang, the Fourteenth Prince, raised his sword and looked at Zhao Che coldly. "Seventh Brother, do you want to spend your life looking up at others? Or do you want to stand on your own two feet? If you want to rise, come out with me."

Zhao Xiang flushed with determination. He jumped onto his horse and drew his sword. "Fourteenth Brother, wherever you go, I will follow."

Zhao Yang nodded and turned his gaze toward the towering city gates. The sounds of battle and fire outside filled the air. Lifting his sword, he whispered, "I swear, I will never follow in anyone else's shadow."

With his palace guards—fewer than a hundred—Zhao Yang charged out of the imperial city like a sharp knife slicing through the heart of the battlefield. Blood stained the sky as he fought, the empire's star slowly rising through the chaos.

Meanwhile, Chu Qiao arrived at the Chishui River, where A'Jing had been waiting with thousands of horses prepared for Yan Xun's army to cross. Seeing Chu Qiao, A'Jing greeted her respectfully. But Chu Qiao, upon surveying the scene, frowned. "A'Jing, is there only one pontoon bridge? There are 10,000 soldiers in the Southwest Town Government. Will they all be able to cross before dawn?"

A'Jing nodded. "This is the command from Swallow (Yan Xun's codename). There shouldn't be any mistakes. You should cross first."

But as Chu Qiao stood still, a terrifying thought came to her mind. Her face suddenly paled, and confusion filled her eyes. A'Jing noticed her reaction. "What's wrong, girl?" he asked.

Chu Qiao forced a smile and said, "Nothing. You go ahead and lead them across. I'll wait here for Swallow."

A'Jing frowned, hesitant. "But His Highness has commanded…"

"No need to argue. Just cross the river," Chu Qiao insisted.

A'Jing knew that the bond between Chu Qiao and Yan Xun went far deeper than his understanding. He nodded and, without further protest, began to lead the soldiers across the pontoon bridge.

Half an hour later, a fierce battle erupted to the southeast, fiercer than before. Chu Qiao's heart sank. Without hesitation, she sped toward the sound of fighting.

"Girl!" A'Jing shouted after her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find Yan Xun!" she cried.

As she approached, she saw a group of soldiers in black, about 5,000 in number, moving rapidly. Her heart leapt with relief when she saw Yan Xun at the front, his robes fluttering like the wings of an eagle, his sword gleaming.

"A'Chu!" Yan Xun greeted her with a smile. "All is well."

"Good," Chu Qiao replied, smiling back. Then, with a casual glance, she asked, "Where is the Southwest Town Government? Why haven't they caught up?"

Yan Xun, unable to tell her the truth about leaving the soldiers behind, smiled. "Don't worry. They'll join us soon. We're just taking the first step."

"Good," Chu Qiao said, satisfied. Without hesitation, she followed him toward the Chishui.

The brigade began crossing the river quickly. Although there was only one pontoon bridge, within half an hour, most of the soldiers and horses had crossed. Chu Qiao stood next to Yan Xun, watching the river as they made their way across. Looking back at the fiery imperial city, she spoke with emotion, "Eight years. We've finally escaped."

Yan Xun let out a sigh, pulling her closer as he draped an arm over her shoulder. "A'Chu, you've suffered."

Chu Qiao shook her head, her eyes shining brightly. "No, it was you who gave me a reason to live. You gave me purpose. Over these past eight years, we've supported each other, cared for each other, and corrected each other's mistakes. It's because of this that we've survived in the imperial city. We don't owe each other anything."

Yan Xun smiled gently. "Well, we owe each other everything. We are one, A'Chu. For better or worse, life or death."

"Yes," Chu Qiao nodded slowly. "We are fortunate, united in life and death."

"Your Highness, the troops have crossed the river. We're ready to go," A'Jing reported.

"Good," Yan Xun nodded. "Command the army to move out."

"Yan Xun!" Chu Qiao exclaimed suddenly. "Aren't we going to wait for the officers and men of the Southwest Town Government?"

Yan Xun smiled, shaking his head. "Don't worry. They'll catch up with us."

"But if the pontoon bridge is removed, how will they cross the river?"

Yan Xun had his rehearsed answer ready. "The imperial capital won't pursue us. They can follow the official road and meet us at West Malaysia."

Chu Qiao nodded, reassured. "Oh, alright then. Let's go."

As they began to move, Chu Qiao paused, suddenly furrowing her brow and checking her waist. "Where's the Datong token you gave me? It's gone!"

Yan Xun frowned. Though the token wasn't significant to him, it was enough to make him anxious. "How could you lose it? Did you wear it? Don't worry—think carefully."

Chu Qiao spun around twice, searching herself. Then, as if realizing something, she slapped her forehead. "I'm so stupid! I left it in the saddlebag on my horse."

Yan Xun reached out and grabbed her arm, his voice tinged with concern. "Let someone else retrieve it. You stay here."

"How would they know which horse is mine? Don't worry, I'll get it myself."

Before Yan Xun could stop her, Chu Qiao was already running across the pontoon bridge. She moved quickly and lightly, barely making a sound on the bridge.

After a short time, Chu Qiao found her horse and retrieved the token. Yan Xun, watching from the other side of the river, saw her heading back toward the pontoon bridge.

"A'Chu! Did you find it? Come back!" Yan Xun called out.

Suddenly, Chu Qiao stopped, her face pale as paper, her sharp eyes fixed on Yan Xun. Her gaze was intense, like a sword aimed straight at him.

In that instant, a cold shock ran through Yan Xun's heart. He shoved A'Jing aside and rushed toward the bridge, yelling, "A'Chu, what are you doing?"

Chu Qiao drew her sword from her waist. The silver blade gleamed as she brought it down in one swift motion. The pontoon bridge collapsed into the rushing river, swept away by the current.

"A'Chu!" Yan Xun screamed, his voice raw with emotion. "What are you doing?"

Standing on the edge of the Chishui River, Chu Qiao looked like an unmovable waterfall. Her eyes, sharp as blades, were filled with fierce determination as she shouted, "Yan Xun! You just said we are one, united in life and death. I can't stand by and watch you commit such a grave sin!"

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter represents a major turning point for Chu Qiao as she takes a stand against Yan Xun, realizing that his choices are leading him down a dangerous path. Her loyalty to him remains unwavering, but her moral compass forces her to take drastic action to prevent further destruction. Yan Xun's manipulation of the situation—abandoning the Southwest Town Government while misleading Chu Qiao—reflects how far he is willing to go to achieve his goals, regardless of the cost to others.

The relationship between Yan Xun and Chu Qiao deepens here, not only through their shared history and connection but also through this significant moment where Chu Qiao defies him for the first time. The tension between loyalty, love, and morality comes to the forefront, highlighting the complexities of their bond.

A Leader Emerges

Yan Xun prepared to leap into the Chishui River, but A'Jing and the others grabbed him from behind, pulling him back. The man shouted in desperation, "A'Chu, don't be foolish! Come back!"

"Yan Xun, you are supported by thousands of people. The people of Yanbei are waiting for your return! It's all because of Yan Wangye's sacrifice in Yanbei that you have this power. You cannot destroy the foundation he built. You cannot tear down the Great Wall with your own hands!"

Yan Xun, furious, lost all his usual calm. His voice filled with anger as he shouted, "A'Chu, come back now! I'll throw a rope over, and you cross back immediately! That is an order!"

But Chu Qiao only shook her head. In silence, she mounted her horse, then turned back to face him. "You are making a grave mistake, and I must correct it. Yan Xun, we will meet again at the cool Sycamore. If I don't return within two days, you must take the people back to Yanbei without me. I will bring the officers and soldiers of the Southwest Town Government to the northern plateau and meet you there."

With that, the girl cracked her whip and galloped away into the darkness of the wasteland. Five thousand cavalry followed her, their thundering hooves charging toward the towering city walls.

"A'Chu…"

The sound of the river slapping against the banks echoed in the stillness. Waves crashed, and only Yan Xun's anguished cries broke through the night. His voice, full of pain, reverberated through the air, but it was too late—she was gone.

This world is not a place for games, nor is it a place for repetition. The only thing we can do is to reverse the inevitable disaster before it fully unfolds! Yan Xun, what I did today, it may take you years to understand. I am not a benevolent woman—I simply refuse to let you be blinded by hatred. Wait for me. I will bring our soldiers back from the depths of hell.

"Drive!"

"Commander! We've been abandoned!"

Panic swept through the soldiers of the Southwest Town Government. Their voices shrieked in terror, distorted by fear. They ran in all directions, seeing enemies everywhere and nowhere to hide. The soldiers, once confident in their mission, were now like prodigal sons, cast adrift with no home to return to. The vastness of the world offered no place for them to rest.

Amid the chaos, a hysterical scream pierced the air. "Why? Why have we been abandoned?"

"Kill! Haha, kill! If we're doomed, let's take them with us!"

Fire spread across the city, consuming everything in its path. There was no longer any hope of escape—no gates to flee through. The soldiers descended into madness, with no battle strategy and no leader to guide them. The royal defenders, pressed for so long, finally unleashed their fury, ruthlessly cutting down any who stood in their path.

Bodies lay strewn across the city. Groups of twenty or thirty royal soldiers surrounded individual men from the Southwest Town Government, slashing at them, venting their hatred against what they considered traitors.

Zhao Che sat on his horse, his gaze falling on his brother Zhao Yang. Though covered in blood, Zhao Yang remained composed, his handsome face smeared with red. He gripped his sword with unwavering determination, examining the scene before him with calm, almost cruel, eyes.

"Seventh Brother, the enemy can't hold on," Zhao Yang said coldly.

"Yes," Zhao Che nodded. "It's time."

Just as Zhao Che ordered the full attack, a loud, earth-shaking sound erupted from the direction of the northwest gate. The entire land of Zhenhuang trembled as if a great force was surging toward them. People across the battlefield looked up in confusion, their hands frozen in mid-motion.

"Bang!"

"Bang! Bang!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The violent tremors seemed to pierce the very bones of everyone present, creeping up their spines as if the universe itself had been stirred into fury. In their moment of shock, neither the Yanbei soldiers nor the imperial guards could move. Blades were left embedded in shoulders, arrows forgotten in their quivers, as everyone stared in terror toward the northwest.

The Xicheng Gate burst open with a deafening crash. Five thousand horsemen charged like a tidal wave into the melee, splitting the battlefield wide open. The imperial guards, pale with fear, suddenly remembered the massacre of the sixteen battalions at the hands of the Swallows. Their legs shook as the Black Hawk flag flew above the city walls. Standing beneath it, a small but formidable figure, General Li Yan, shouted, "Yanbei warriors! You are not abandoned! Listen to my orders—follow me, and I will take you home!"

There was silence for a heartbeat, two, three... then the roar of cheers exploded from the crowd.

"Back to Yanbei! Back to Yanbei! Back to Yanbei!"

The once-desperate soldiers found new hope, their voices rising like an unstoppable tide as they surged toward the northwest, following the banner of hope.

"Seventh Brother, Fourteenth Brother, who is that?"

Zhao Yang stared at the scene, unable to speak for a long time. Zhao Che narrowed his eyes as he watched the fierce woman leading the savage army.

"You remember this," Zhao Che said slowly, his voice measured. "That woman will become the greatest threat to the Xia Empire. If we ever want to take back what we've lost, she will be the first mountain we must climb."

The sky was ablaze with beacons, lighting up the night as the Xia Empire's imperial capital trembled. That night, everyone in the empire would remember her name. Eight years ago, Chu Qiao entered Da Xia Palace as a slave. Now, eight years later, she had taken the last of the Yanbei armed forces from Zhenhuang City and left the empire to return to her homeland—a land of burning heat and bloodshed.

At this moment, Chu Qiao herself didn't know the full impact of her actions. Her move today had saved Yanbei from a disastrous revolt and secured the foundation of the new Yanbian regime. In doing so, she also forged the first battalion of her own armed forces in this time of turmoil.

That night, the officers and men of the Southwest Town Government made a vow deep in their hearts to follow this delicate yet unbreakable young woman. From that point on, they followed her in the wars between North and South, as her cavalry swept across the entire land of Ximeng. Their loyalty to Chu Qiao remained steadfast, regardless of the hardships and challenges they faced.

And thus, this delicate young girl took the first step toward earning the title that people across the land would one day call her—"Beauty King."

AC Afterthoughts: This chapter highlights a powerful turning point, both for the characters and for the fate of Yanbei. Chu Qiao emerges as a true leader, not through brute strength but through her unwavering resolve and ability to inspire loyalty. Her decision to take control of the situation, to stop Yan Xun from making a catastrophic mistake, shows her growth as a strategist and a leader who can make difficult choices.

Yan Xun's anguish and fury at Chu Qiao's defiance reveal the cracks in his once impenetrable facade. He struggles with his inner demons, torn between his desire for revenge and the reality that his path might be leading to self-destruction.

The soldiers of the Southwest Town Government, abandoned by their leadership, are left in chaos, but Chu Qiao's timely intervention offers them a chance at redemption. Her promise to lead them home not only revives their spirits but also solidifies her position as a rising force within the rebellion.