At the Heavy-Walled Terrace, lights flickered to life one by one. The footsteps of the palace attendants grew more hurried, and low whispers intermingled as people sensed something approaching, anxious for a dawn that seemed uncertain.
The earth trembled faintly, as if a hundred beasts were about to burst from the edge of the pitch-black forest.
Yet, the quietest tent atop the Heavy-Walled Terrace remained shrouded in silence.
In the darkness, the Beast-Subduing Platform gleamed under the rain. Built upon the square ruins of an ancient beacon tower, it had been expanded to three times its original size. It bore little decoration, consisting only of heavy square stone bricks with gaps the width of half a finger between them, allowing rainwater and animal blood to drain without pooling. A particularly large and perfectly square stone sat at the center; originally intended to display the prizes of the spring hunt’s victors, it now supported a massive bronze screen.
The screen stood nearly thirty feet high. From a hundred paces away, it looked like a wall rising abruptly from the earth. It was studded with dense bronze nails, each hollowed out so that a single strike could be heard for miles.
A hunched figure slowly ascended the steps, reaching the center of the Beast-Subduing Platform.
He was an elderly ritual official dressed in plain white hemp. His hair and beard were entirely white, and his hands, clutching a thick bundle of bamboo scrolls, were deeply wrinkled like withered branches.
The fine rain soaked his shoulders, but he remained oblivious. His pace was steady and unhurried until he finally sat cross-legged upon the central stone brick.
It had been a long time since he had meditated like this. In his youth, a hundred of them would often sit together in the great hall, chanting sacrificial texts throughout the night until dawn.
No sooner had he settled than another equally aged ritual official in white climbed the stone steps. Their eyes met briefly before turning away with a tremulous nod of greeting. The newcomer sat down beside the first.
Then a third person appeared at the steps.
Three, four, five... a dozen, dozens, a hundred.
A phalanx of a hundred ritual officials sat upright on the Beast-Subduing Platform. Their white robes and white hair formed a sea of pale light in the night.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze; even the falling rain appeared to slow.
Then, soldiers in heavy armor and long halberds poured out from the darkness of the forest edge like a flood. Their bloodshot eyes were fixed on the Heavy-Walled Terrace behind the platform, their battle cries shaking the heavens, their killing intent saturating the fields.
The ritual official seated on the central stone finally moved.
He seemed blind and deaf, noticing neither the enemy forces closing in from all sides nor the earth-shaking roar of the slaughter. His aged hands slowly unfurled the first roll of the bamboo scrolls. The slender slats were yellowed and moth-eaten, the characters upon them as tiny as fly heads.
His clouded eyes focused on the small script, and the mouth beneath his beard moved as he began to recite.
"Secret Pavilion Volume Twenty-Two, Ding Section, Jia One. The Xu family of Santaoli, Bian City, Kun Province. Female, aged sixty-nine. Military household. Adult males: none. Minors: one. Three mu of farmland, half a tiled house. Registered in Que City. Household deed verified and inspected for audit."
As his voice fell, the hundred ritual officials behind him spoke in unison. Trained in the art of chanting sacrificial prayers for years, their voices were as resonant as great bells.
The aged harmony was gathered by the massive bronze screen and amplified outward from the Beast-Subduing Platform. Like ripples on a lake stirred by the wind, the sound surged in layers, carrying far into the distance.
Simultaneously, a heavy, low rumbling sounded from directly beneath the platform.
On the left and right, three logistics soldiers each tightened the gears and turned the winches. A heavy stone slab beneath the Beast-Subduing Platform was pushed open from within, revealing a stone door.
The hinges creaked, exposing a vast, deep space behind the gate.
The moment the ritual officials finished their chant, the first figure stepped out from the door beneath the platform.
It was an old woman in a simple gown, holding an oil lamp. Her face still bore a trace of confusion from hearing her own household records. She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward into the darkness.
"Secret Pavilion Volume Twenty-Two, Ding Section, Jia Three. The Zhang family of Qingyi Manor, Zhang City, Min Province. Male, aged seventy-three. Artisan household. Adult males: one. Minors: three. Two tiled rooms, one ironmonger shop on Tongming Street. Registered in Que City. Household deed verified and inspected for audit."
As the hundred voices chanted, a second person emerged from the stone door—a grizzled old man with a bushy beard. He also held only an oil lamp. As he looked around in panic, one of his eyes showed a milky film; he had likely been blind for a long time.
The unending recitation of household records echoed across the plain. Figure after figure emerged from beneath the platform, numbering in the thousands. They were the elderly, the young, women, and children. Their faces were masks of bewilderment as they walked toward the beasts about to slaughter them in the dark, their silhouettes appearing thin and fragile.
Yet, it was this utterly harmless group that caused the slaughterers, who had resolved to fight to the death, to slow their pace.
The murderous aura and ferocity that had driven them forward vanished in an instant, dissolving silently into the fine rain and soft wind.
The names of distant hometowns and kin reminded them of things from long, long ago. In bustling streets, under eaves covered in bluestone tiles, in small villages where cooking smoke curled into the air, and in fields filled with heavy stalks of grain—they had once possessed such peaceful and abundant lives.
Before tonight, they had forgotten their status as wanderers, believing they would never find rest in their ancestral lands. But as those familiar faces walked toward them through the night, the sense of belonging rooted in their blood reawakened, causing the hands gripping their weapons to tremble uncontrollably.
The fine rain was like silk, weaving into a net that was everywhere and all-encompassing.
An invisible force had ensnared the beasts in the darkness, just as the hunters' reaping blades were raised.
***
On the wooden walkway of the Heavy-Walled Terrace, a black-clad eunuch slipped through the gauze curtains.
Inside, a man stood tall. He had shed his imperial robes and crown, wearing only a most ordinary long robe. He looked like a common scholar who had wandered into a scene of opulence by mistake.
The eunuch official could not hide the shock in his eyes.
"Your Majesty... are you going out?"
The man neither confirmed nor denied it. "Did I not tell you to prepare earlier?"
Shan Jiangfei was speechless. He had been told to be ready, but he hadn't been told it would be *now*.
In the past, the Emperor would leave whenever he pleased without ever explaining himself twice. But given the current situation, surely he couldn't just walk away?
He felt like weeping. "Even with Commandant Ding present, Your Majesty should wait a little longer. It is hardly peaceful outside right now."
Hardly peaceful? There was a war going on.
"Oh." The man nodded slightly, as if only just remembering to ask about the situation. "How is it out there now?"
The eunuch official finally had a chance to report. "Everything is as Your Majesty anticipated. Nearly eighty percent of the Yueze remnants among the Bai rebels have surrendered. The rest..."
"Tell the Black Feather Camp to move," Su Wei said softly. He reached out a finger to lift a corner of the gauze curtain, looking toward the dark Beast-Subduing Platform in the distance. "Can those old fellows hold out?"
Recalling the sight of those white-bearded old men bathing in incense, rinsing their mouths, and looking spirited before ascending the platform, Shan Jiangfei gave a conservative answer.
"The lords have prepared for this day for a long time. Judging by their state before going up, holding out until dawn should be no problem."
"They have lived off their stipends for so many years; it is time they were put to use." The man chuckled softly, then instructed, "Be sure to keep a close eye on the Yueze kin we released. Ensure there are no casualties and that no one goes missing. After the headcount, settle them according to their registered households and wait for Bai Zhaoyu to make further arrangements."
"Yes."
The Emperor had tallied all the household records of the former Yueze Army’s families and verified them one by one. From elderly parents to wives and children, as long as there was a record and they were still alive, they were all brought to Yu'an.
That was the reason the convoy had been so long upon arrival.
The Yueze were originally soldiers of Tiancheng, and many among them were men of extraordinary talent. It would be a waste to execute them all. To reclaim the rebellious remnants without shedding blood, strategy alone was insufficient; one needed something that could truly touch the heart.
The time and effort required to complete this move could not have been accomplished in a few short months.
It is nothing for a man to spend an afternoon on a task, but if he can patiently lay a trap for years to achieve his goal, it is enough to inspire dread.
The eunuch official lowered his gaze.
He did not fear the man before him, but he suddenly felt a pang of pity for his master. He was too tired—not a physical exhaustion, but the weariness of maintaining control over the grand design while waiting through long years for the final result.
Fortunately, it was almost over.
"Your Majesty, there is one more thing."
"Speak."
"The noise started outside half a quarter-hour ago. Someone in the tower must have noticed the rebels' movements. If any of the lords wish to flee out of fear, should we stop them?"
"Whoever wishes to leave must take off their official robes, remove their feathered crowns, and leave their official seals behind. Since we are setting the stage, we must show some sincerity. I am personally presiding here; what face do they have to look after only themselves?"
"Yes, I shall send word immediately."
"Is there any word from Wei Xiang regarding Bai Heliu's movements?"
"The Black Feather scouts report that the rebel leader, Bai Heliu, failed in his surprise attack and is leading a troop toward the southeast."
Su Wei fell silent for a moment.
Even with over a hundred chess pieces on the board, he remembered the position of every single one.
"Southeast... is the garrison there Subei?"
Shan Jiangfei nodded. "It is indeed the Subei Camp under Xiao Zhun."
He had anticipated this possibility, yet it was the one he least desired.
"Have the nearest commander take men to cut off his retreat immediately. If any variables occur..."
His voice trailed off.
Shan Jiangfei looked up slightly at the frowning man. He rarely frowned, for few things could trouble him.
"As long as Your Majesty issues the order with the tiger tally, several commanders of the Guangyao Camp can be mobilized. They will surely... leave no future troubles."
The eunuch official used the words "future troubles" because they could refer to Bai Heliu, or to someone else entirely.
He was not qualified to speak plainly on many matters, so he could only go this far.
"No." The young man smoothed his brow, his indifference returning, though his tone was firm. "Avoid pressing too hard. Unless it is absolutely necessary, do not cross blades."
Shan Jiangfei’s heart hung in suspense. "But Your Majesty, Subei is a valiant cavalry camp with three hundred thousand heavy armored riders. If the situation becomes urgent and we do not strike first, I fear..."
The commoner-clothed Emperor gave him a brief look. "What? Do you think I have lost my wits?"
His worry had caused him to overstep. Shan Jiangfei quickly lowered his head. "I would not dare."
"If it truly comes to that, cut down the Subei banner to break their command and kill any who resist. As for the Marquis of Qinghuai..." The Emperor’s voice paused, as if weighing a final decision. "You must spare the Marquis of Qinghuai's life. He is not to be killed without authorization."
A look of struggle flashed across Shan Jiangfei’s face, but he finally complied. "Yes."
"Wait."
Su Wei called back the retreating eunuch, as if suddenly remembering something. "Is Master Zong still in his tent?"
Shan Jiangfei blinked, then replied quickly, "Tea was sent to him half a quarter-hour ago. He is still there."
The young Emperor straightened the sleeves of his long robe and fastened the last jade button.
"Dispatch the best archers from the Jiazi Camp to watch him. If he dares to take a single step out of that tent..."
Yet, even when taking the initiative to attack with the intent to kill in one blow, that remained a very difficult opponent to handle.
After a moment's thought, he began walking toward the exit of the tent.
"Never mind. I shall go personally."
***
Southeast of the Imperial Forest Villa, beneath the silent silhouette of the mountains, countless winding black shadows flickered among the ancient trees, looking like the shadows of primordial serpents brought back to life.
Ahead lay the junction of the Imperial Forest Villa and the foothills of the Douchen Ridge. Here, the vegetation was not as tall as in the forest, and the ground changed from rot-filled soil covered in moss and pine needles to a mountainside of mixed gravel.
The sandy soil between the rock crevices grew muddy under the rain, making every step abnormally heavy.
It was difficult for ordinary travelers, let alone heavy cavalry.
The sound of the rain could mask some of the noise of their advance, but it could not hide the tracks left by an army.
Marching through dense woods was usually a tactical error; the superior strategy was to use stillness to overcome motion. The Tiancheng generals, who had long been scattered across the area under the guise of the "spring hunt," were methodically driving their "prey" into a dead end.
Douchen was shaped like a bracket—easy to enter but hard to leave. To find another way out, one would have to abandon their horses and climb over the rugged peaks on foot.
For an army, that was an impossible feat.
Thus, tens of thousands of Subei troops waited in the darkness, battle-ready, until the shadow-like rebel army appeared at the edge of the woods.
Ten thousand iron riders split into two wings. Their hooves struck the ground in unison, the sound echoing through the valley.
The general on the black horse rode slowly out from the ranks, his long spear gleaming like flowing light in the rain. Beneath his helmet, his eyes were illuminated by the cold glint of iron, revealing a trace of pity amidst the killing intent.
"Lay down your weapons. Those who surrender voluntarily shall have their lives spared. The rest shall be shown no mercy!"
Xiao Zhun’s voice echoed across the front lines until it faded. Once again, the only sounds were raindrops falling into the mud and striking cold iron.
However, among the rebel troop of over a thousand, no one removed their armor, and no one dropped their weapons.
The former Yueze Army had been composed of elites from various Tiancheng camps, including soldiers who had come from the Subei Great Camp. But back then, who could have predicted that one day they would face such a fratricidal situation?
But what did it matter? From the moment they stepped onto this path, there was no turning back.
A man on horseback rode forward. His armor was stained with blood, and his hair and beard were gray.
Bai Heliu smiled and wiped the rain from his face. His eyes still held the refined air of years past, but the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth carried a murderous aura. He was no longer the white-robed Censor who held a brush and fan to investigate the officials.
"I know I have reached the end of the road. I thought that if I held the advantages of time and place, a thousand men might not be unable to withstand ten thousand. Who knew that in the end, I would still lose the game by a single move? Yet, even a cicada at the end of autumn must strain to cry out. Wouldn't you agree?"
His raspy voice fell and could not be taken back, just as ten thousand raindrops fall and can never return to the clouds.
The outcome was already decided; the heavens could not be overturned.
"Soldiers, hear my command!" Xiao Zhun pointed his spear straight ahead, its cold light piercing the thickening mist with irresistible force. "Follow me and slay the enemy!"
***
On the southern slopes of Douchen, separated by a single ridge, the lonely carriage remained in its original spot.
However, the horses hitched to the front were huddled together, one pressing against the other, struggling desperately in place.
The hoods over their eyes had not fallen off. Their terror was a primal reaction to the killing intent in the air.
The purple-clad swordsman stood atop the roof of the carriage. His sword was not yet drawn, but there were three perfectly neat notches on his scabbard.
He rubbed the marks with his thumb, his face showing unmasked heartache.
"Stop rubbing and staring. Even if you polish it until it's oily, it won't grow back to the way it was."
Bolao was perched on a broken tree trunk ten paces from the carriage, her two chubby legs dangling and swinging back and forth.
When fighting on this mountain path, one always had to leave some margin for error. Otherwise, one slip-up and there would be nowhere left to stand.
She had come empty-handed and only needed to keep her footing, while her opponent had to protect the carriage, clearly placing him at a disadvantage.
Even so, he had not lost the upper hand.
Moreover, his sword was still in its sheath.
Yan Zi looked at her, his face—which possessed a simplicity bordering on obsession—creased into a frown. "Who are you?"
"I'm your ancestor."
Bolao chuckled twice. The cold rain wet her palms; she wiped them casually on her hem and gripped her short blades once more.
In her early years wandering the martial world, she had faced hundreds, if not thousands, of sabermen and swordsmen.
In a duel between martial artists, the most fearsome thing was not encountering a weapon or style that countered your own, but meeting an opponent from the same sect or lineage.
Because once one reached a certain level of cultivation, one understood the principles of flexibility and countering moves. Even if there was a flaw or a disadvantage in one area, there was always a chance to make it up elsewhere; the final result was never a certainty. But if the opponent knew your every move and technique inside out, then it became a pure contest of absolute strength.
The stronger side would win regardless; the conclusion was merely a matter of time.
As her mind whirled through these thoughts, the man in purple was still mourning his scabbard, seemingly in a different world from her.
After a long while, he finally lowered the scabbard. "I do not know you, but I don't believe I have an ancestor of your age."
Bolao smiled, her round, moon-like face puffing out her cheeks and pushing her thick eyebrows upward. "When she told me about her encounter in Lingxi, I suspected it might be you. As the legends say, you truly are a madman."
Yan Zi finally took a careful look at the large-headed girl. "You know me?"
Bolao nodded. "You are the only person Xie Li ever expelled from the sect."
"Xie Li?" A flash of confusion crossed the swordsman's eyes, then he seemed to finally recall those old memories and nodded slightly. "I suppose so. He went back on his promise to teach me saber techniques, but I didn't lose out. I snatched a handy weapon on my way out."
Bolao’s gaze fell on the scabbard she had notched three times. She thought back to the uninvited guest who had unsettled her recently and suddenly regretted scaring herself for so long, even getting kicked by Jixiang for her trouble.
"That lingering old ghost Zong Hao suddenly appeared; I thought I had done something wrong. Looking at it now, he wasn't here for me."
Unexpectedly, in the next instant, a wide grin spread across Yan Zi’s face, as if he had discovered something infinitely amusing.
"You're afraid of the people from the Andao Academy?"
This sentence poked Bolao right in her sore spot.
She hated being suppressed more than anything, yet in this life, she could never escape the shadow of the Andao Academy.
When Xie Li arranged for her to complete her training, she had sworn: even at the risk of being hunted for the rest of her life, she would never submit to anyone. If necessary, she would personally kill the master she had not yet met.
If not for... if not for meeting *her*.
She had never treated her as a master, and she had never treated her as a servant.
The small figure’s hunched back suddenly straightened, and her entire aura transformed instantly.
"Afraid? What a joke. One freak from the Andao Academy is enough. You can only be considered a degenerate."
"I like the way you talk. You look especially..." The man paused, searching for the right word. "...especially unafraid of death."
Bolao gave a cold snort. "What of it? Do I offend your eyes?"
Facing this blunt provocation, the purple-clad man showed no sign of displeasure. Instead, a hint of sadness touched him.
"Short-statured sabermen like you are rare these days. It would be a pity to kill you. Why don't you tell me what you want? Perhaps we can..."
Bolao shook her wet, oversized head and said boastfully, "Didn't a stinking bat fly into your carriage just now? Let me see what you took from it, and I might just spare your life."
"That won't do." Yan Zi sighed deeply. "He gave instructions. That won't do."
Bolao’s swinging legs stopped. The snow-bright tips of her blades slid from her sleeves.
"Then what are you waiting for? Stop being so long-winded."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
伏兽台 | Beast-Subduing Platform | A large stone platform used for rituals and displaying prey during the spring hunt.
重壁台 | Heavy-Walled Terrace | The structure where the Emperor's main tent is located.
礼官 | Ritual Official | Officials responsible for rites, ceremonies, and chanting.
密阁 | Secret Pavilion | The imperial archives where household registrations and secret records are kept.
岳泽 | Yueze | A former military division or region; the remnants are now part of the rebellion.
黑羽营 | Black Feather Camp | An elite military unit under the Emperor's direct command.
安道院 | Andao Academy | A mysterious or elite institution/sect mentioned in relation to the characters' pasts.
谢黎 | Xie Li | A master figure mentioned by Bolao and Yan Zi.
伯劳 | Bolao | A character, likely a skilled fighter or assassin, with a distinctive appearance.
燕紫 | Yan Zi | A purple-clad swordsman and former disciple of Xie Li.
白鹤留 | Bai Heliu | The leader of the rebel forces and a former high-ranking official.
肃北营 | Subei Camp | The Northern Pacification Camp, a powerful military division commanded by Xiao Zhun.
青怀侯 | Marquis of Qinghuai | The noble title of Xiao Zhun.
宗先生 / 宗颢 | Master Zong / Zong Hao | A formidable figure associated with the Andao Academy.
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