The mountain passes at the foot of the Great Wall marked the boundary of the realm. Beyond them stretched the vast, desolate wilderness at the edge of the Northern Desert’s nomadic lands; within the pass, not far away, lay several nameless villages under Yongzhou’s jurisdiction.
Looking up toward the Great Wall, one could see that the number of stationed soldiers was nearly double what it had been over the past decade.
The first snow of the northern frontier began falling in late autumn. The river froze quickly, but for it to turn into a solid, sturdy sheet of ice capable of supporting the passage of men and horses, it would take at least the arrival of the coldest winter days.
On the sunlit bank of the Wuding River, a Northern Desert force of roughly one division had long been waiting for this chance; to cross to the opposite shore and press in toward the mountain pass.
The doubling of Yongzhou’s garrison made southward raids far more perilous than in previous years, though the potential gains had increased accordingly. Moreover, since their commander Ding Jian had fulfilled his sworn military pledge that spring by eliminating the “General Jianwei”; a formidable enemy that had long troubled the royal court, the entire unit shared in his success. As a result, they too were elevated in standing, and with the coming of winter were naturally assigned the heavy responsibility of the vanguard.
On the night of the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, all matters proceeded as usual. The Northern Desert army was already making final preparations. Ding Jian’s orders had just circulated through the entire force; they would set out to cross the river by nightfall tomorrow at the latest.
At the second watch, snow began to fall again, arriving with a sudden, violent force, the wind howling as it drove the flakes through the night. By the third watch, it had already accumulated into a thick, heavy layer. A sentry propped his eyelids open and stifled a yawn. At the mountain pass a dozen miles away, there was no sign of anything unusual except for the lanterns hanging perpetually atop the city walls.
Yet in the darkness beyond his sight, the side gate of the mountain pass had already swung open. A troop of cavalry rode out in silence; their horses’ hooves wrapped in cotton cloth. The soldiers carried no torches as they moved stealthily toward the Wuding River, pressing through the deep snow.
The number of troops following Lu Lingcong out of the pass was only half of the Tiger Division’s strength, which did not appear to be a stance for a direct confrontation. The remaining men had been dispersed within the Great Wall over these past days, working alongside the Yongzhou garrison to reinforce the city’s defenses.
This could be seen as a sign of Yongzhou’s rising strategic importance. Previously, the capital had been preoccupied with aristocratic infighting, dynastic changes, and partisan struggles between the elite and the commoners, failing to give the region sufficient attention. It was not until this past year or two; perhaps as a turn of the wheel of fate, that this frontier fortress had successifully sheltered a wronged phoenix, hosted a hidden dragon, and witnessed the death of a lonely wild goose. Once the old prefect was appointed as the prime minister, the clouds finally parted to reveal the moon; the new officials took office with great vigor, and the methods applied to Yongzhou immediately became more forceful.
Throughout the thirty-odd years spanning the Jianning, Zhenyou, and Jingyu eras, two generations of emperors had been heavily constrained by maternal clans, stationing numerous troops in the capital region and rarely daring or being able to deploy much force to the northern borders. It was only now, as the threats to imperial power slightly diminished, that there was spare capacity to allocate more manpower to repelling external threats.
A few miles from the riverbank, Lu Lingcong reined in his horse and looked back. His subordinates understood his meaning; they did not sound the horns but instead passed orders through hand signals before splitting the troops into two paths to cross the river from the eastern and western flanks.
Lu Lingcong instructed, “Once across the river, act according to plan. Use the entrance of the western mountain pass as a point and the riverbank as a line, establishing positions at these two locations. There is no need for active provocation; simply ensure they cannot break through the perimeter.”
The Northern Desert army had pitched camp with their backs to the mountains and their front facing the Wuding River. Once the Tiger Division sealed the riverbank and the corridor between the western mountains and the river, only the mountain paths behind them would remain. However, in this season, heavy snow had already blocked the mountains; heading up would only lead to a dead end. In this way, a state of encirclement was formed.
The subordinate officials took their orders and led their respective troops away. Lu Lingcong remained stationary for a moment before joining the detachment heading west before vanishing into the curtain of night.
It was near daybreak when the Northern Desert sentries discovered the anomaly. Ding Jian did not appear in person, but his response came swiftly. Cavalry torches blazed to life at once, and the sound of battle cries revealed the location of close-quarters fighting; it seemed to be along the riverbank outside the eastern gate of the camp.
The Tiger Division soldiers who had gone out to meet the enemy shouted loudly in accordance with Lu Lingcong’s orders, “Our Great Qi’s Majesty comes not for state affairs, but for a family matter! Hand over your commander, Ding Jian, and this battle shall be spared!”
Before they had shouted it twice, a subordinate general who understood the Han language reported these words back to the commander’s tent. After hearing this, Ding Jian remained silent for a long while before saying, “Ignore them. If the enemy cannot be repelled immediately, withdraw to the camp and stay put. Once we establish contact with the Royal Court, they will not dare to remain so arrogant on the north bank of the river anymore.”
He added with a somber expression, “As for those words just now… anyone who dares to spread them in the army, making sure even those who don’t understand get the message, shall be executed without mercy.”
The scouts Ding Jian had dispatched to seek reinforcements from the Northern Desert Royal Court burst out of the camp in an instant, charging like the wind toward the western mountain pass.
The Tiger Division’s ambush had long been prepared with thousands of men and horses hidden among the peaks. Seeing the fast riders, a subordinate official turned to ask for instructions, “Your Majesty, shall we intercept them?”
Lu Lingcong shook his head and said softly, “Let them go; let’s see how things stand.”
The moment the scouts disappeared onto the mountain road, the lurking Tiger Division soldiers revealed themselves, firmly seizing and guarding the entrance to the pass.
A short while later, a battle report arrived from the east. Seeing that his numbers were not in his favor, Ding Jian did not linger in the fight and ordered a retreat back to the camp. The Tiger Division also followed Lu Lingcong’s directive to withdraw and fall back to defend the riverbank line.
“They should be heading west now.” The subordinate official remarked.
Lu Lingcong murmured, “Ding Jian will have guessed that we would blockade the entrance to the mountain pass. He won’t strike head-on; he will likely only send a small team to test the waters.”
Before long, a few Northern Desert cavalrymen were indeed spotted galloping toward the mountain pass. As soon as they caught sight of the Great Qi’s royal banner, they immediately turned back. To preserve his strength, Ding Jian had truly only sent a handful of men to gauge the situation.
“Until the reinforcements from the Royal Court arrive, Ding Jian will likely not attempt an active breakout. They never expected that their front, rear, and flank paths would all be cut off. Without sufficient provisions and supplies, they cannot afford to delay.”
The subordinate official replied, “Now we just need to play the part of the tiger blocking the path and wait to see what the messages sent back from the Great Wall say.”
During the first two days of the blockade, the Northern Desert army remained relatively composed. No matter how the Tiger Division shouted outside the camp—“His Majesty seeks only General Ding’s life”, they were answered with silence.
By the third day; the day Ding Jian had originally scheduled for the river crossing, murmurs began to rise. Although the Northern Desert soldiers were veterans who respected Ding Jian’s prowess as a brave general, they ultimately harbored the suspicion that “one who is not of our race must have a different heart.” Moreover, Ding Jian was a Han Chinese of obscure origins, and they had held reservations about him from the very beginning.
They had clashed with the Tiger Division many times and never recalled these enemies having a penchant for grandstanding or shouting taunts. Coupled with the fact that they could barely make out their commander’s name in the shouting, they could not help but wonder what exactly was being said on the other side.
Once rumors and discussions began to spread, they were no longer something a single military order from Ding Jian could suppress.
On the evening of the third day, Lu Lingcong opened a battle report that had just arrived from the Great Wall. It had been written by a certain Tiger Division adjutant who remained within the pass, and it stated: “The Northern Desert Royal Court has made no move; no troops have been mobilized.”
Based on the calculation of time, even if the scout sent for aid had not reached the Royal Court within three days, he certainly would have passed the nearest military stronghold; yet no reinforcements had been brought back.
This was rather strange.
On the fourth and fifth days, the Tiger Division atop the Great Wall still observed no signs of troop movements at any of the Northern Desert outposts beyond the pass. However, the provisions this army had brought to the banks of the Wuding River were nearly exhausted. The supply troops could not enter through the western mountain pass, and even if they had turned back to fetch help, they should have arrived by now, unless—
There was no help coming at all; there were no reinforcements.
Once such a thought took root, it spread like wildfire within the besieged camp.
The soldiers gathered several times, demanding to see their commander. Ding Jian had a faint suspicion in his heart, but he did not dare to share his premonitions with his subordinates.
On the sixth day, after finishing the battle report, Lu Lingcong said, “No more troops will be added. Ding Jian has already become a discarded pawn of his master.”
The Northern Desert Royal Court was well aware that with a new figure occupying the throne in the distant southern capital, the attitude and methods regarding frontier affairs were highly likely to undergo a radical transformation. They had suffered losses in their winter raids for two consecutive years, which had already drawn widespread resentment from within their tribes. Now that adversaries like Prince Zhao and He Gao had suddenly taken real power, for the sake of long-term interests, they undoubtedly had to plan a change in strategy.
However, the kinship ties of the Central Plains Han people were different from theirs. With the death of Lu Lingzhen standing between them, if Lu Lingcong truly acted on impulse by disregarding the stability of the realm to seek vengeance to the end, it would be extremely troublesome for the Northern Desert. It was the scenario they most wished to avoid.
But now, if Lu Lingcong was willing to keep Lu Lingzhen’s death confined to the level of a private vendetta rather than elevate it into a matter of state, then the Northern Desert Royal Court was naturally willing to cast aside someone like Ding Jian, a Han man who had already lost one arm, in exchange for bringing this grievance to an end. After that, whether discussing tribute or territory, everything would be far easier to negotiate.
On the morning of the seventh day, the camp gates swung open without warning, and several dozen Northern Desert cavalrymen charged out. No longer able to wait for reinforcements, and having received no satisfactory explanation from Ding Jian, they had decided to stake everything on a desperate breakout.
The Tiger Division had not taken the initiative to attack, so despite the many days of encirclement, they had not expended much energy. With their backs to the frozen Wuding River and no shortage of supplies, they met the challenge with great composure.
The soldiers remaining in the camp watched from the lookout towers, gazing west. They saw the Tiger Division fighting and retreating, leading the rebels to the entrance of the mountain pass before coming to a halt. Instead of initiating a slaughter, they stopped, forming a temporary standoff.
A Tiger Division official fluent in the local tongue stepped forward and called out clearly, “With only a few dozen men, trying to force your way through the pass is certain death, with no chance of survival. And since you have already rebelled, Ding Jian will never allow you to return to the camp.”
“Scouts have left and never returned for many days; all of you surely understand that the Northern Desert Royal Court is unwilling to risk making an enemy of our Majesty to save Ding Jian. His Majesty is merciful and does not wish to involve you all in his private feud with Ding Jian. If you can lend your strength and find a way to persuade your comrades in the camp to proactively hand Ding Jian over, then His Majesty will certainly not deny you food, water, or a path to survival.”
The rebels exchanged glances, momentarily unsure how to respond. The soldiers in the camp had no idea what was being discussed; they could only see that the opposing side did not seem intent on a massacre, and each of them harbored their own doubts and suspicions.
On the night of the seventh day, a massive fire broke out in the rear tents in the northwest of the Northern Desert camp. The rebels struck from a weak point in the defenses and dispersed throughout the camp with each seeking familiar comrades. It was a scene of absolute chaos.
Ding Jian and a team of personal guards clashed with the rebels outside the commander’s tent. Many soldiers stood paralyzed by confusion, unsure whether to remain loyal to their general or join the mutinous majority. The air was thick with a deafening cacophony of roars, battle cries, and curses, punctuated by the relentless shouting of the Tiger Division lying in wait: “Hand over Ding Jian! This is not a state’s affair but a family matter!”
The fire gradually spread toward the main gates. Before long, Ding Jian was the first to hack his way out of chaos, followed by only a handful of his personal retinue.
Seizing the moment, the Tiger Division charged from the western flank, tearing a gap in the camp’s perimeter within moments. Countless Northern Desert soldiers immediately surged out like a tide; they did not turn back for their commander but fled toward the “path of life” at the western mountain pass, just as Lu Lingcong had promised.
Outside the camp gates, the firelight was blinding. Ding Jian attempted to escape the encirclement under the cover of chaos, but with his vision obscured, he could only charge blindly through the dark. Just as he broke through the thick smoke, a lone rider parted the crowd and galloped forward, shouting, “If you keep hiding, I shall take you for nothing but a cowardly rat; one who dares to commit a deed but lacks the courage to face the consequences!”
Recognizing the man on horseback, Ding Jian jerked his reins tight and coughed, “I never expected Your Majesty would dare to lead a campaign in person. Are you not afraid your dragon throne will change master too soon for you to raise such a grand army just to hunt me down?”
Lu Lingcong held his long spear in a reverse grip. “Today, here and now, there are no sovereigns or princes. I seek revenge, first as a comrade-in-arms avenging General Jianwei, and second as a brother avenging my deceased sister, Lu Lingzhen. All these grievances lie solely between you and me; this has nothing to do with state affairs!”
Ding Jian sneered, “The Eldest Princess was a great general under Your Majesty’s command. That she fell by my hand is enough for the Northern Desert Royal Court to record a grand achievement in my name.”
Lu Lingcong was not provoked. He spurred his horse to pace slowly in front of the line while surveying Ding Jian with a look that could only be described as arrogant. “You have lost your right arm. If you weren’t completely hampered, I suppose you wouldn’t have found it necessary to hide from me in that camp all these days. If I were to seriously deploy an army against troops led by a cripple, it would seem a dishonorable victory. This battle is hardly worth fighting.”
He stopped and said expressionlessly, “Only one thing: General Ding, you should carefully consider whether that record under your name belongs in the ledger of merit, or in the ledger of the dead.”
Upon hearing this, Ding Jian’s face darkened; clearly, he was well aware of the fact that the Northern Desert Royal Court had abandoned him.
Lu Lingcong said calmly, “Every injustice has its perpetrator, and every debt has its debtor. If you had taken today’s courage and used it to kill my Emperor Father or Empress Dowager Xiao just as Zhang Yan once did, I might have held you in higher regard.”
“General Ding, there was originally a clear path laid out before you, but unfortunately you were blind to it and refused to take it.”
“The leader of the Xuanshi originated from the Xiao clan of Lanling, a lineage that had long since vanished without a trace. Finding no path to survival under my Emperor Father’s rule, she chose to cooperate with me. I never distrusted her because of her origins, and now I have placed her at the very summit of officialdom. Had you chosen to ally with me as she did, my Emperor father and Empress Dowager Xiao might have died ten years earlier, the Prime Minister’s Mansion might have fallen ten years earlier, your sister would not have died in vain, and you could have secured a foothold in the Northern Camp. By now, you would have carved out your own achievements and had countless subordinates who would follow you through life and death!”
“Zhang Yan was biased and muddled in his perspective. It is beyond reproach that you and your sister initially sought to repay him for saving you. But if you blindly followed him even when he failed to distinguish right from wrong and harmed the innocent, then today’s end is merely the fruit of your own actions. What difference is there between you and the people who harmed your parents?”
Ding Jian spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm. “Your Majesty brushes yourself perfectly clean, but are you really any different from them? Relying on power, hypocrisy, and wealth that never belonged to you to turn the clouds and rain with a flip of your hand. In truth, there is no difference between you, your father, your grandmother, and your ancestors who sat high upon the imperial throne for generations!”
“What do you rely on to maintain your hold over the Tiger Division? How did you incite the Four Camps and the Yulin Guards in the capital to turn? What you grasp in your hands, and what you use to threaten them, are likewise living, breathing people!”
Lu Lingcong remained noncommittal, only saying, “In my hands there is no butcher’s knife, and upon my conscience there is no stain of slaughtering the innocent or betraying trust. These people are in their rightful places, with homes and livelihoods of their own, and no longer live under the shadow of death.”
“What Empress Dowager Xiao and my Emperor Father did; and what Zhang Yan and your siblings have also done, is nothing more than a crude, barbaric form of ‘control.’ The incapable, lacking courage and ability, seek to seize power by holding the kin of the weak hostage, yet they are still unable to act as true sovereigns. Real governance is to let people live, survive, and sustain themselves; to keep them under control without their awareness of it, so that they can even take comfort in their own circumstances. That is what is called ‘rule.’”
Having finished speaking, he actually offered a faint smile. “Ding Jian, those words of yours cannot offend me.”
The moment the words fell, they both moved almost simultaneously. Ding Jian wound the reins tightly around his severed right arm before wielding his halberd with only his left hand. He spurred his horse to leap high, crashing through the path of the soldiers ahead before charging straight toward the frozen river. Lu Lingcong followed close behind, trailing by barely a single horse’s length.
From ten thousand steeds, two were selected; from ten thousand riders, two were chosen. The pair left the temporarily disordered Han and Hu forces far behind. The Tiger Division had been ordered to guard against the possibility of Northern Desert rebels circling back for a counterattack and thus could not pursue too closely.
Upon reaching the riverbank, the horses’ hooves began to skid on the icy ground. Ding Jian was forced to slow slightly, and at that moment, he and Lu Lingcong engaged in combat. In his prime, he had traded victories and losses with Lu Lingcong with their skills evenly matched. Now, though he had only one hand, his movements showed no sign of sluggishness at all; he simply lacked the opportunities to strike at Lu Lingcong’s openings.
However, in a clash between top-tier martial artists, victory is often determined by the slightest, most negligible disadvantage; just as Lu Lingzhen had once been slightly inferior to Ding Jian in raw strength.
That tiny constraint was enough for Lu Lingcong.
Unnoticed, the wind and snow surged once more. The silver spear rose in a sweeping arc, slipping past the halberd’s guard, and struck across Ding Jian’s flank. The force of the blow jolted him, nearly sending him sliding off his horse; he only managed to steady himself by wrapping his single arm around the spear’s shaft to leverage his weight. Lu Lingcong drew back the spear tip and struck again from the opposite flank; each thrust aimed at vital points; yet each time he stopped short of delivering the killing blow.
He demanded in a low, heavy voice, “Where are Lu Lingzhen’s remains? Did you take her back to claim credit, or did you abandon her in the wilderness?”
Ding Jian did not answer. He merely let out a sinister laugh and spurred his horse to continue its frantic gallop along the riverbank. Lu Lingcong sensed that the man was trying to lure him deep into the snowy plains. With a slight shift in his heart, he narrowed his eyes to gauge the distance and threw his long spear forward. It grazed Ding Jian’s ribs, tearing away a piece of armor before plunging into the snow. A moment later, Lu Lingcong’s horse caught up. He leaned down from the saddle, reaching out to seize the weapon, and the spear returned to his grasp.
When he looked up again, there was a startling trail of red on the path ahead. That strike had drawn blood.
An adjutant sshoyed from behind, “Your Majesty, be careful! Do not pursue him further! Wounded as he is, he won’t survive long in this freezing weather!”
Ding Jian had been abandoned by his followers, leaving him with nowhere to retreat. If Lu Lingcong’s goal for this journey were merely to ensure Ding Jian’s death, there would be no need to continue the chase.
But there was still the most important matter, the answer he had yet to obtain.
Amid the boundless white of the snowfield, only the silhouette of the Great Wall and the faint outlines of distant mountains could be seen. A thin, scarlet trail of blood stretched behind them, slowly being swallowed by the falling snow, layer upon layer erasing the marks of the path they had taken.
The warhorse instinctively followed the scent, moving along that trail of blood. Lu Lingcong did not press too closely, acting like an eagle circling and peering down while waiting for its dying prey to exhale its final breath. He was in no hurry, for he knew with certainty that the moment the man could no longer hold on would come.
In the wind, even the sound of a heavy object striking the ground could not be heard clearly. An unknown amount of time passed, and the Tiger Division’s shouts no longer carried to them from behind. Then, as Lu Lingcong fixed his gaze forward, he saw that the saddle of the horse ahead was empty.
He spurred his horse forward. Ding Jian’s mount had stopped moving, waiting blankly for a command from its master, who lay collapsed by its hooves.
Lu Lingcong halted in place. Ding Jian lay on his side in the snow, clutching at his wound; the blood began to spread anew, seeping outward beneath him in all directions.
He watched this struggle, staring as Ding Jian exerted all his strength to lift his head, looking at him with a gaze full of unwillingness and resentment. Slowly, the man spoke:
“The way of the sovereign, the art of rulership… I could have done it. But I simply chose not to.”
“In this life, what I want or do not want has never been the same as what I can or cannot do. In this regard, among the millions upon millions of mortals in this mundane world, you and I are exactly the same.”
“The only difference is that when you reach out, you can only grasp your ‘capabilities,’ whereas when I reach out,” Lu Lingcong paused, “I can grasp my ‘desires.'”
He pulled the white jade disc Xie Jing had given him from his robes, dangling it from his fingertips and letting it sway twice. “Even if I die, there are those who will fulfill my wishes for me and more who are willing to follow me into death.”
He looked down upon Ding Jian with disdain, his voice contemptuous, yet his eyes held a hidden, faint trace of sorrowful pity. “But when you die, there will be no one left to fulfill yours.”
The surrounding mountains stood stark white, and the land for a thousand miles was locked in ice. The “man of a young woman’s spring dreams” had become nothing more than “bones by the Wuding River,” while the wind howled across the plains like mourning for the dead.
“Ding Jian, I pity you, and so I have fulfilled your wish for you.”
“I have buried your parents and sister at the foot of Mount Mei, and I have also set up spirit tablets in the old Ding family residence, arranging for people to offer sacrifices and tend to them regularly. My Emperor Father and Empress Dowager Xiao are dead; Zhang Yan has also taken his own life. Not one of those who owed you or used you remains in this world; if you have resentment or hatred, you can only seek them out in the underworld to settle your accounts. From beginning to end, my kin never owed you a single thing. I only want to know—”
Lu Lingcong’s spear reversed in a blur of motion; in an instant, its tip was pressed against Ding Jian’s throat. “Where—are—my sister’s remains?!”
It was unclear if Ding Jian had truly heard the preceding words. He remained silent for a long time before finally saying, “I do not know.”
“On the day she died, my subordinates searched along the river, but there were only bloodstains from where the warhorse had dragged her; her body was never found. Who knows? Perhaps the river washed her away, or perhaps wild beasts made off with her…”
Lu Lingcong’s face was like frost, his arm trembling violently as the tip of his spear nearly sank into Ding Jian’s flesh.
“This is not the first snow of this winter,” Ding Jian let out a wretched laugh, his breath weak. “What did you expect would be left?”
In Chen Commandery, outside the Xie family ancestral hall.
“Have you read it?” After a moment of silence, Xie Jing spoke, having finished reading the battle report written in Li Qi’s own hand.
Xie Jun shook his head. “Fearing the matter was of great importance, I did not dare to open it without authorization.”
Xie Jing handed the letter to him. The gist of the letter was that Lu Lingcong had pursued Ding Jian beyond the Great Wall north of the Wuding River; the Tiger Division had followed behind, but the snow had unexpectedly intensified, and they had become separated. The officials immediately reported back to Yongzhou. On one hand, Li Qi temporarily suppressed the matter to prevent any rumors from spreading; on the other, he immediately dispatched a courier to deliver the report to Xie Jing.
After reading it, Xie Jun frowned. “How could His Majesty pursue Ding Jian alone?”
“You find it strange as well?” Xie Jing murmured. “He has never been associated with the word ‘reckless.’ Li Qi also wrote here that in the end, he was alone, and Ding Jian was alone as well.”
Xie Jun pondered, “But if there were an ambush beyond the Great Wall and Ding Jian was merely feigning being alone, betting on His Majesty’s eagerness for revenge to lure him into an enemy trap…”
Xie Jing shook his head. “If you and I can think of it, how could he not? Since he gave chase, and it was one rider against another, there is likely only one possibility: with Zhang Yan’s fall, there is no one left to facilitate Ding Jian’s ‘collusion with the enemy.’ He no longer has any strategic value and has lost an arm; the Northern Desert will provide him no reinforcements. As for His Majesty pursuing him alone, it was not out of arrogance but because once the Tiger Division was deployed, it would no longer be a private feud but a state affair. With the coup having just settled and the political situation still unstable, the frontier cannot afford any disturbances.”
“His identity is different now. Before, he was a general and a subject; now, he is an emperor and a sovereign. He represents the attitude of the entire court, the stance of this very land.”
Xie Jun nodded, offering comfort, “Do not panic just yet, Little Uncle. His Majesty is a veteran of the battlefield and has always been resourceful and decisive. It is possible he has other plans and simply hasn’t been able to establish contact with his subordinates yet. General Li and the others are anxious on one side, while on the other they must make full preparations for Qing’er and the situation in the capital; that is why this letter was sent to you, likely only as a precaution for any possible contingency.”
Xie Jing stared blankly at the lamplight. A sentence Lu Lingcong had spoken in Shenlong Hall suddenly leaped into his mind: “I must seize this opportunity to personally send those who killed her to the yellow springs, one by one, and then remember this day’s incompetence and remorse for the rest of my life.”
Even if he truly managed to avenge that blood debt in the end, the guilt would still haunt Lu Lingcong for a lifetime. How could he not personally chase his enemy to the ends of the earth to strike him down?
After a long silence, Xie Jing suddenly said, “This time is different; it is truly his inner demon; he will not rest. Until he sees the result with his own eyes, he will not rest.”
His gaze lowered. The Flying Light blade hung at his waist, a corner of it faintly visible beneath his outer robe. “…Even if it truly comes to both jade and stone being reduced to ash, he will still do it.”
Xie Jun was stunned. “Little Uncle, are you planning to…”
Xie Jing abruptly looked up, staring at Xie Jun as he pressed a hand onto his shoulder. “I must go to Yongzhou. Pack your bags immediately and set out for the capital tonight. Return to the palace and stay by your younger siblings’ side; act as the situation dictates but prioritize your own safety first. If there truly is… an accident, just help me pass two sentences to them.”
Xie Jun knew this matter was of grave importance. Fundamentally, Jinling was more critical than Yongzhou, so he swallowed the words of wanting to accompany Xie Jing. He simply said, “Please say it, Little Uncle.”
Xie Jing cast his gaze toward the far distance, into the vast, pitch-black darkness where the spirits of countless generations of the Xie family lay sleeping. The hatred of his parents, brother, and sister-in-law had settled, yet he knew clearly in his heart that he would not be buried with them in the days to come.
People say a falling leaf returns to its roots, but if a leaf cannot find its root system, how would it know which tree it came from? Perhaps from the very beginning, starting with his birth in Jinling, it had all been fated. “Hometown” was merely a passerby in his destiny, and he would eventually have to make the decision to leave from beneath the ancestral hall before the ancestral graves.
A voice in Xie Jing’s mind spoke calmly to itself: Once you step onto the northern road, this land will no longer be able to receive you without reservation; once you ride into the night, the next time you return, you will already be a stranger.
He murmured, “Just tell them I said—”
“The mountains of Jinling are gentle and its waters soft, with endless wind and moonlight. If I take my native soil as a blanket and sleep long beside your father, even across a thousand ages, I will not feel the cold.”
