Surrounding me was an expanse of absolute darkness and the howling fury of a black sandstorm.
The gale whipped up grit and gravel, lashing against me again and again. I felt as though I had sunk into a nightmare from which I could not wake; my senses seemed to have failed me. Even knowing that ten thousand elite soldiers stood behind me, awaiting the order to strike, a faint sense of trepidation gnawed at my heart.
For a fleeting moment, I wavered.
Ming Chuan and her four hundred vanguard elites had already vanished into the overwhelming storm. They wore no leather armor, but were clad entirely in black night-suits. Aside from their blades, they carried grappling hooks, climbing ropes, and signal flares. Despite my full confidence in their skills, weather like this still filled me with an unusual tension.
Between heaven and earth, nothing could be heard but the shrieking of the storm. Under the cover of this tempest, we were like a pack of predators, closing in step by step upon an oblivious prey.
The towering battlements of Qizhou’s city walls appeared before us, shimmering like ghosts through the swirling sand. In the brief lulls of the wind, the faint sound of fighting seemed to drift toward us, yet when I strained my ears, I heard only the wail of the gale. My heartbeat had grown louder than the wind, thundering in my ears, causing my very body to tremble.
A hand reached out from beside me, carrying a familiar warmth, and gripped mine firmly. He held on tight, as if trying to transfer his own strength to me, stilling the anxiety churning in my chest. Though I could see nothing in the darkness, that warm grasp caused my intense nerves to miraculously relax.
At that precise moment, a brilliant burst of red light exploded over Qizhou, followed immediately by a second flare.
The gates were open!
*Love You Forever* lunged forward. Simultaneously, the roar of ten thousand voices thundered in my ears, drowning out the howling wind like a majestic torrent sweeping toward the city.
Adrenaline surged to my head in the moment of the charge before racing through my limbs. My heart became as still as a frozen lake, and my senses sharpened to an unprecedented degree.
The city gates stood wide. The dark red wood and the stone-paved ground beneath the hooves rushed toward me with a familiar breath, yet the sounds of slaughter from near and far cast a veil of strangeness over everything. The warehouses in the eastern district were already ablaze; fanned by the wind, the fires had swallowed half the district in a roaring conflagration. The air was thick with the scent of blood and the acrid stench of burning property. Shadows flickered in the dancing firelight, and the sounds of combat were swallowed by the storm, sounding hauntingly ethereal.
Soldiers of Qizhou, clad in earth-colored armor, swarmed toward the gates from all directions. Caught in a night raid, many had not even had time to dress properly. The jumping, dark-red flames painted every face in the night with a ghastly, cruel hue.
A severed limb, accompanied by hot blood, whistled past my temple. As I leaned aside to avoid it, I spotted a general in a crimson robe half a street away. He sat atop a black steed, brandishing a golden blade and screaming orders at his soldiers to charge.
I cut down several soldiers who lunged at my horse, then swiftly drew my bow. After taking aim, I released the shaft.
The arrow pierced his throat like a bolt of lightning. The crimson figure vanished into the tide of men like a burst of sea foam, silent and unnoticed.
Feng Yao’s two detachments had already charged into the front streets along the left and right flanks. The earth-colored ranks finally began to retreat.
As the hour of the Tiger approached, Ming Qi, who had fought his way in from the rear of the city, rendezvoused with me at Xuanyuan Terrace. Han Jiang, however, had carved a path through Ming Qi’s encirclement with his personal guard and fled Qizhou through the rear gate.
The great sandstorm gradually subsided, followed by a brief but violent downpour that doused the fires in the eastern district.
The air remained thick with smoke, but this sudden rain brought me a sense of heartfelt joy. To me, it felt like a baptism; I hoped it would wash away the gloom clinging to my heart and the blood staining my armor.
This was the first spring rain of the year. Despite the biting wind, it carried the fresh scent of damp earth. I shook my Xuanwu Blade, its cold light shimmering, and carefully wiped it clean with the hem of my cloak. My hands were stained with blood once more, yet I felt none of the self-reproach I had expected. Perhaps too many trials had finally hardened my heart.
Ming Chuan had already begun assigning personnel to handle the aftermath: the wounded, the prisoners, and the pacification of the city's residents.
The rain had long since stopped, leaving an extraordinary silence in the streets.
In Qizhou, the finest residence was the official courier station. All the wounded were settled there.
Feng Xiuxiu and her medical team were busy treating the injured. Despite having ample supplies and healers prepared, the reality of the situation was still chaotic—there simply weren't enough hands. Consequently, those with light injuries began bandaging one another or assisting the physicians with the more severely wounded. Additionally, a separate area had to be designated for the wounded among the prisoners of war.
Emerging from the infirmary, I felt not only exhausted but also a faint sense of despondency.
Witnessing the reality of the pain before me, my firm resolve wavered. Was everything I had done truly worth it?
Though spring had technically begun, the weather here was still piercingly cold.
I walked slowly along the pebble-strewn path of the station’s rear garden. Since leaving Qizhou, I had imagined countless times that I would one day stand here again, always feeling that something heavy from the depths of my memory was waiting for me to reclaim it.
But as I looked around, the station was, in the end, just a station. It looked exactly like the one in my memories, yet it was clearly unrecognizable.
I looked down at the colored stones arranged in a plum blossom pattern beneath my feet, suddenly feeling a wave of listlessness.
Everything was different.
No matter how hard I tried, it was simply not the same. Regardless of what this place had once witnessed, those things I once possessed had now formed a scar in my heart that could not be touched—I could not bear to think of them, nor did I wish to.
The pond had begun to thaw, and several jagged decorative rocks still stood there. A blurry memory surfaced of a night with neither moon nor stars. I vaguely recalled meeting Feng Tong here; he had been lying there drinking alone, and later broke a wine pot or a cup.
That was the first time he had told me he would "stand on my side." At the thought, I couldn't help but turn to look at him. He was standing not far behind me. I wondered if he was thinking of the same thing, for his expression seemed a bit awkward, yet the face he pointedly turned away clearly bore a trace of a smile.
A sliver of warmth rose in my cold, lonely heart. Just as I was about to speak, Jie Ziqian’s voice drifted from afar, brimming with the joy of a man who had found a hidden treasure.
"City Lord!"
Feng Tong and I looked at each other and couldn't help but shake our heads with a smile. This man was sometimes so profound he wouldn't utter a word, and at other times as impulsive as a child, completely ignoring the stares of others.
Before I could even finish my internal sigh, his thin figure burst into view. I suspected he truly had found some treasure, for his entire face seemed to be glowing. He rushed over, shouting as he walked: "Guess who I found in the dungeon?!"
Feng Tong and I exchanged a bewildered look.
"Xi Huo!" Jie Ziqian spread his arms wide and spun around twice in excitement. "The famous general of Great Chu, Xi Huo!"
