The man in silver armor stood as still as a lifeless stone statue beneath the withered tree.
He did not know how long he had been standing there.
The last traces of carmine in the western sky had already drifted away, yet a touch of moving warmth remained against the deepening curtain of night, like the magnificent lingering resonance of a melody long after the music had ceased.
Before him lay the largest flowerbed in the entire manor. The autumn chrysanthemums, which appeared as a riot of color by day, were now submerged in the thickening darkness, silent and still.
A faint, lingering fragrance drifted through the night wind.
The throwing knife in his palm had been held for so long that it had absorbed his body heat, becoming warm. It reminded him of her hands; they were always icy in the winter, only growing warm when he held them in his own.
Ming Shao’s grip tightened on the blade as his gaze wandered blankly toward the dark sea of flowers. It was late autumn, and even the hardiest chrysanthemums had begun to wither. Every morning, the garden paths were strewn with fallen petals, a sight of lingering red decay.
Standing there, his thoughts drifted from the chrysanthemums to the song she had sung on the grasslands, from the Prince’s manor in Bingzhou to the sight of her galloping away as seen from the battlements of the city wall...
His mind was a chaotic tangle; he seemed to be thinking of many things, yet nothing at all.
His heart, at some unknown point, had become hollow.
He never expected that upon hearing that familiar voice cry out a tearful, joyful "I do," the memories he had deliberately ignored would instantly collapse like a dam, drowning all reason in a torrential flood.
He had thought he was already numb with pain.
But it turned out it wasn't pain at all—it was merely the numbness.
*"...From now on, you are mine. You aren't allowed to dally with others, or accept the coy glances and flirtations of anyone else. No woman but me is allowed to lie in your arms—only I can build a nest here..."*
*"Ming Shao, let's go to the grasslands and never come back. All right?..."*
*"The one you owe isn't me..."*
*"From this day forward, I fear you and I cannot even be considered old acquaintances..."*
*"If life were only as it was when first we met, why would the autumn wind grieve the painted fan? How easily the heart of a lover changes, yet we say it is the lover's heart that is fickle..."*
*"I heard that if a man’s eyes are kissed by a woman, for the rest of his life, his eyes will see only her, and his heart will love only her..."*
*"Are you willing to take the woman before you as your wife? Whether in poverty or wealth, in old age or sickness. To love and support each other until death do you part?..."*
*"Until death do us part..."*
He reached up to touch his cheek. At some point, it had become wet.
"So, I can still shed tears..."
Heavy footsteps approached from behind.
Ming Shao gripped the throwing knife tightly but did not turn around.
Against the cold, lonely remnants of red on the horizon, Chu De once again felt the aura of detachment radiating from him. It was as if Ming Shao were encased in an invisible barrier—faint, yet as hard as iron—preventing anyone from entering his world.
When had this child become so distant from him?
Though Ming Shao had been by his side since childhood, Chu De had to admit he had never truly understood him. To be precise, Chu De never went out of his way to understand anyone. To a soldier, all he required was obedience.
And yet, the boy was his nephew. Half the blood in his veins was the same as his own.
He slowly approached Ming Shao’s side, but in the boy's eyes, he clearly saw a pain that transcended mere indifference. It was a pain so deep and real that it seeped from his eyes like icy water, washing over Chu De and making him startle inwardly. He couldn't help but call out, "Shao'er!"
Ming Shao lowered his eyelids. When he opened them again, his expression had turned cold and sharp.
Chu De waved a hand to the guards behind him. "All of you, withdraw. No one is to approach without my order."
Once the guards had silently retreated, Chu De’s piercing gaze returned to Ming Shao’s face, waiting for an answer.
Ming Shao avoided his gaze, his voice as respectful as ever. "The matter Uncle asked me to investigate has been uncovered. It will happen tonight, during the hour of the Ox."
Chu De let out a cold huff, his eyes sweeping over him. "What is your take on this?"
Ming Shao did not answer, but his hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into tight fists.
Under the faint starlight, a cold, sharp expression gradually appeared on Chu De’s face. Though a slight smile played on his lips, it looked indescribably grim. "He actually thinks he can snatch someone away right under my nose—he thinks too little of my Chu Family Army. Where is the rendezvous point?"
Ming Shao replied in a low voice, "Huangying Ridge, outside the North Gate. Once they have the person, they will take her directly back to the Laojiang Palace."
Chu De frowned and paced before the window, pondering for a long while. Suddenly, a terrifying light erupted in his eyes. "Since the secret guards of Fengyun Castle are also moving tonight at the hour of the Ox, we might as well let them fight it out first. Give the order: have Chu Xiong take a few men and lie in ambush near the dungeon. No matter which side moves first, do not interfere too much. Wait until they have taken the prisoner out of the dungeon, then use the chaos to kill that woman..."
"Uncle!" Ming Shao looked at him in horror, as if only just realizing what Chu De was saying.
Chu De looked over and gave a cold laugh. "Do you truly think your little thoughts and schemes could be hidden from me? In the face of the grand scheme, if you remain so weak-willed over a woman, you will have wasted all these years of my reliance on you!"
Ming Shao was startled again. When he looked up, Chu De was staring him down without blinking, the deep lines around his mouth revealing an unmasked cruelty.
Ming Shao clenched his fists, and his turbulent heart strangely grew still. He looked directly at Chu De, his voice becoming unusually calm. "Since Uncle has seen through it, I have nothing left to hide. I only do not understand—Uncle merely wishes to stop His Majesty from taking Xi Xia back to the Central Capital. Why must she die?"
The expected explosion of temper did not come. Chu De simply knit his brows and stared at him.
After a long silence, Chu De gave a heavy sigh. "In terms of schemes, His Majesty is naturally a few degrees sharper than the late Emperor. However, in terms of magnanimity..." He shook his head slightly. "The Sixth Prince has assisted in governance for many years. Now that the Han clan has been eliminated, I fear the Emperor will turn his sights on him next. Can he truly have no grievances regarding *that* matter?"
Ming Shao’s shoulders shook slightly.
Chu De sneered. "I fear she is a seed of trouble. If all goes well, then all is well. But the moment something displeases him, she will become a blade over our heads! Besides, the Jing Prince's Manor has already offended this woman to the core. Leaving her by the Emperor's side will only lead to disaster in the future. Rather than being controlled later, it is better to act now..."
In the darkness, Ming Shao’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. His face grew paler and paler, yet from that pallor emerged a strange resolve that caused even Chu De’s heart to waver for a moment.
"Take a few men. Set out after the hour of the Rat." Chu De withdrew his gaze, his brow relaxing slightly before tightening again. "Deal with the scouts hidden outside the city first—keep it clean!"
"Yes!" Ming Shao responded heavily.
Chu De gazed at him, a trace of rare softness flashing in his eyes before his expression turned grim again. He walked slowly to Ming Shao, pressed a hand on his shoulder, and said deeply, "It’s not that Uncle doesn't understand, or that I don't care for your feelings. It’s just that the grand scheme is paramount—what I must preserve is your father and the entire Chu family."
Ming Shao lowered his eyes and bowed his head. "I understand!"
"I don't want to force you." Chu De’s hand on his shoulder tightened slightly, his voice uncharacteristically earnest. "Think on it yourself. If you cannot bring yourself to do it, let Chu Xiong handle it."
Ming Shao slowly raised his head, his eyes as calm as still water. "Since it is to be an end, then let me be the one to end it with my own hands."
A gratified smile appeared in Chu De’s eyes. "Good! To be able to pick it up and put it down—that is a soldier trained by Chu De!"
Ming Shao also smiled, his features completely relaxing. It seemed the problem that had been haunting him finally had an answer.
Chu De’s mind had already drifted into another round of calculations, and he did not notice the strange light in Ming Shao’s eyes. Had he seen it, he would have realized that such a smile was entirely foreign to him—it belonged to a Ming Shao he did not know.
In the distance, the drum for the hour of the Rat sounded.
Looking down from the treetops, the dungeon in the heavy night looked like a giant piece of sugar cake, surrounded by a dense swarm of ants.
These well-trained ants wore earthy-yellow armor, their sharp weapons glinting with a chilling silver light in the firelight.
Ming Shao’s gaze shifted to several high points near the dungeon; those lying in ambush there were brothers who had faced life and death with him since childhood. He trusted them as he trusted his own body. His eyes slowly swept to the west of the dungeon, where a cluster of civilian houses lay submerged in darkness. Though he could see nothing, he clearly felt a faint, murderous aura. If the intelligence was accurate, the secret guards of Fengyun Castle should be hidden there. It was said that half of them were experts retired from the military, and the other half were desperate outlaws from the martial world—all peerless masters recruited by Fengyun Castle over the years with vast sums of gold.
On the other side, the gloomy courtyard seemed deserted, yet a subtle killing intent lingered in countless invisible corners. Those were the secret guards of Emperor Ming De, the "Shadow Protectors" left behind by the late Emperor, who answered only to the Emperor himself. Aside from the Emperor, no one knew exactly what kind of organization it was.
It seemed everyone who was supposed to be there had arrived.
In the silent night, a sudden "boom" echoed. Immediately, a thick cloud of smoke rapidly spread at the entrance of the dungeon. The guards stationed there didn't even have time to cry out an alarm before they collapsed in the pungent mist.
In an instant, countless black figures lunged out of the night like hounds receiving a charge command, bolting straight for the dungeon. The entrance was instantly thrown into chaos.
Ming Shao also leaped into the fray without hesitation.
Unless he was on a battlefield, Ming Shao had rarely seen such a chaotic melee—in the eyes of the guards, the scene was even more incomprehensible: the bandits who had appeared simultaneously to raid the prison were actually fighting among themselves first.
Blood splattered Ming Shao’s cheek. He kicked away the last guard blocking his path and rushed into the dungeon. The guards inside had already been drawn outside by the sounds of fighting, and those who were slower had already become slumped corpses in the corridors.
Dead guards were everywhere—Ming Shao’s heart couldn't help but tighten.
With a crisp *clang*, a man’s voice shouted, "It’s broken!"
It was a voice he had never heard before, rough but unable to hide its joy. Ming Shao rushed to the cell door. A man in black was carefully binding a unconscious woman to his back. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her originally pale face had turned an unnatural, feverish red.
Seeing him, Feng Tong lunged forward with his sword like an enraged beast.
Ming Shao parried the blade, stepped back two paces, and lowered his voice. "Move fast. Follow me."
With that, he was the first to retreat. Feng Tong retracted his sword, exchanged an inscrutable look with the black-clad man beside him, and followed without hesitation.
Outside the dungeon, the melee had reached a fever pitch. Sword light and blade shadows were everywhere, yet it was impossible to tell who belonged to which faction. Only when they saw the unconscious woman bound to the black-clad man’s back did the crowd swarm toward them like a nest of hornets.
Trying to carve a path out was even harder than expected.
Ming Shao struggled to block the blades before him, a fine layer of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. At that moment, a low voice reached his ears with perfect clarity: "Fire!"
Ming Shao’s heart instantly sank to the bottom. A surge of hot blood rushed to his heart, yet he couldn't tell if the complex emotions tangled within him were due to this unexpected ambush or the final realization that he was not trusted by his uncle.
It was Chu De’s voice. Even though he had deliberately lowered it, Ming Shao heard it clearly.
So, this was the "mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind"...
His long blade danced in a circle, knocking away the black swarm of arrows one by one. Turning his head, he saw Feng Tong leaning against the black-clad man, struggling to fend off the crossbow bolts. The woman on the man's back had already been struck in the arm by an arrow; even in her coma, her beautiful brows furrowed as if she felt the pain.
A flash of sharp agony pierced Ming Shao’s heart.
He pulled a flare from his sleeve and flicked it into the air with two fingers. Immediately, from high in the trees, a familiar voice gave the order without hesitation: "Fire!"
And this time, the direction of the crossbow bolts was toward Chu De.
Simultaneously, a violent explosion erupted from the rear of the dungeon.
A monstrous red light illuminated the night sky behind them. A violent tremor suddenly shook the ground beneath their feet.
Chu De struggled to stand straight. Before he could even turn around, a world-shaking alarm bell rang out from the inner courtyard where Ming De resided. He glared coldly in the direction the prisoners had fled, squeezing a few words through his teeth: "Chu Zhong, take men and pursue! The rest of you, follow me to protect the Emperor!"
"East! Take the secret passage out of the city, then turn north!" Feng Tong urgently caught up to Ming Shao.
Ming Shao hesitated for a moment before deciding to follow the route he suggested—since Chu De could predict he would help the prisoners, he might have also prepared defenses on the route Ming Shao had originally planned.
The cool night wind brushed against his sweat-drenched body, but he didn't feel cold. Instead, there was a strange heat, like a fire burning fiercely in his chest. He could even hear the blood pounding in his body—not the calm rhythm of the past, but a wild, uncontrollable pulse that stimulated every nerve, giving him the urge to howl at the sky.
He had never felt such a sense of pure, unadulterated release.
A black carriage waited silently in the darkness, the black-clad driver sitting anxiously in the driver's seat. Upon seeing the woman they carried, he let out a long sigh of relief. His sharp gaze then fell back onto Ming Shao’s face.
Those were a pair of eyes that seemed familiar.
Ming Shao tossed Chu De’s command token to Feng Tong and warned him, "Do not go through Huangying Ridge."
Feng Tong’s body seemed to tremble slightly.
In the darkness, Ming Shao couldn't see his expression, only a pair of emerald eyes shining with a strange light in the night.
"It really was you." He gazed quietly at Ming Shao, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. "It really was you."
Ming Shao’s heart grew miraculously calm. In this darkness, unable to see each other's expressions, he felt more at ease.
"I have never liked you." Feng Tong gave a soft, incredulous laugh. "However..."
He paused, then laughed brightly. "If there ever comes a day when you require assistance, Fengyun Castle will do its utmost to help."
Ming Shao gave a faint sigh. "Then promise me this: do not let her know about what happened today."
Feng Tong did not make a sound.
"Go now," Ming Shao straightened his back, a wave of bewilderment and... a never-before-felt desolation washing over his heart.
The carriage quickly vanished into the night. Ming Shao suddenly remembered the driver—it was Qiu Lie, the one who had been drinking with his master on the grasslands that day.
But this realization only stirred a deeper pain in the depths of his soul.
He slowly sat down on the earthen slope.
Above him was a pale crescent moon, cold and still.
Quietly watching.
***
