Legend has it that in ancient times, the valleys of southwest Tiancheng were home to the Red Jiao, a creature of lethal toxicity. Yet, in its youth, the creature was dark-hued and defenseless, a prey even to common hawks and sparrows.
Thus, the young Jiao developed a singular skill: it could endure seven days in wind, rain, and mist without food or water, waiting until it grew the markings that would ward off its natural enemies. Later generations called this act of concealment "Mist Hiding."
This was also the secret code name Lu Songping had given to this defensive operation.
The Emperor’s carriage was silently concealed among the Tiancheng army’s supply wagons, much like a dragon hidden within the rain and mist.
The interior of this carriage was reinforced with a cast-iron frame, and its walls were a full inch thicker than those of a standard carriage. To the outside observer, however, it looked no different from any other wagon hauling military supplies, and it was not surrounded by heavy guards. Those seemingly ordinary, scattered infantrymen were actually the elite of their respective camps; among them were familiar faces from the Black Feather Guards, each capable of taking on ten men alone.
The final segment of the time-keeping incense burned away, its ashes falling silently into the tray.
The hour of the Tiger had passed; the hour of the Rabbit began.
Xiao Nanhui quickly lit another stick. It seemed that only by watching the thin coil of smoke rise again could her heart find a measure of peace.
Having lit the incense, she pressed her body down again, her face flush against the floorboards near the wheel hub, listening intently.
A faint vibration from the earth was approaching from the distance. Perhaps because of the fog, the sound seemed exceptionally muffled.
"When cavalry conduct a night raid, they usually wrap their horses' hooves. The vanguard light cavalry often make no sound at all."
Sui Wei’s voice drifted down from above her. Her mind was elsewhere, so she did not respond, continuing her vigil.
After a few moments—or perhaps longer—a dull thud, significantly heavier than the surrounding cacophony, rang out. It sounded like a stone dropped into a deep pool.
That was the sound of the rolling stones Lu Songping had positioned on the high ground earlier.
The terrain here was too open; even if the small hills provided a slight elevation, they weren't high enough to use rolling stones as a lethal ambush as one might in a canyon. Lu Songping’s stones were not meant to kill, but to confirm the distance between the Bai clan cavalry and the Tiancheng forces.
Cavalry carried heavy loads, and the ground they traversed inevitably vibrated. When the stones rolled down from the tremors, the Tiancheng generals could use the sound to discern their position.
Hearing the sound now meant the enemy had already advanced to the outer perimeter of the Tiancheng defense.
Only then did Xiao Nanhui rise. She lowered the bronze-and-iron shutters on the inside of the carriage windows. The interior grew even darker, save for the flickering red ember of the incense, which glowed with a fragile, precarious light.
The man’s low voice broke the suffocating silence.
"What must come will come eventually."
Xiao Nanhui blinked, trying to discern his silhouette in the darkness, but she could see nothing. Her mouth felt dry; she wanted to say something to bolster her own courage.
"I previously witnessed the infinite variations of the Black Feather Camp’s formations at Sanmu Pass. The Nanqiang barbarians are good at frontal assaults but poor at formations. If we truly face them, we might still hold the advantage."
"The strength of the Black Feather formations lies in their fluidity. But in today’s heavy fog, where the enemy’s position cannot be discerned, the formation is a dead game. It will be broken sooner or later." The voice paused for a moment before continuing leisurely, "General Xiao may not know, but the shifts in the Black Feather formations are commanded by the sound of a zither. Aside from myself, no one can drive them."
Xiao Nanhui’s breath hitched. She instinctively asked, "Then how are we to respond to a surprise attack? What if they come prepared and use the terrain to trap us here?"
"Lu Songping’s deployment is scattered rather than concentrated. To surround us would require an army of a million. As for adapting to circumstances, the Black Feather Camp will be no different from the others. Since the banners cannot be seen, they will use the sounds of the *chunyu* bells, drums, and horns to signal advance and retreat. However, the Bai clan knows this system as well. In that sense, Tiancheng has indeed lost the initiative."
With every word the Emperor spoke, the weight in Xiao Nanhui’s heart grew heavier.
She bit her lip, feeling as though he were intentionally heightening her tension, yet she dared not talk back. She could only suppress her own trepidation.
At that moment, a different, peculiar sound pierced through the thick walls of the carriage.
A wailing sound drifted through the air, like a crane crying mournfully in the clouds, followed immediately by heavy thuds that slammed into the earth.
It was the sound of ten thousand arrows being released at once.
Lu Songping had initiated the first round of long-range strikes.
The stagnant air blocked the roars of battle and the wails of the dying, but she couldn't help but visualize the sounds of slaughter in her mind, clutching the image like a final protective talisman.
"The Black Feather archers under Commander Lu possess over a thousand Cloud-Treading Arrows. These arrows not only pair with the Setting Sun Longbows for long-range attacks, but their force is overwhelming. They can pierce armor even from a hundred paces away. I’ve seen them before..."
"Have you ever heard of rhino-hide armor?"
Xiao Nanhui paused, shaking her head blankly.
"Since ancient times, the Bijiang region has been rich in rare and exotic beasts. The nomadic tribes there do not favor metal armor; instead, they use animal hides. The Qiang people are particularly skilled at tanning the hides of rhinoceros and wild oxen into armor as hard as stone or metal, capable of lasting a hundred years. Ordinary swords and spears can hardly penetrate it, and even the power of the Cloud-Treading Arrows is halved against it."
Her expression grew more frantic as she listened. "Does Commander Lu have a countermeasure?"
"As far as I know, he does not."
She was speechless. "Then... then what should be done?"
"Rhino-hide armor is extremely precious; it’s unlikely an army of ten thousand would all possess it. We kill as many as we can."
Having said this, he waved his hand as if explaining a trivial, somewhat amusing matter.
Xiao Nanhui was stunned. She almost had the illusion that the Emperor was joking with her. But the current situation made it impossible for her to find anything funny. She wasn't a madwoman; she truly couldn't laugh.
In the darkness, Sui Wei’s gaze easily captured her expression. He tilted his head, a hint of a smile in his eyes.
"Do you not wish to die on the same day as me?"
Xiao Nanhui felt like crying but had no tears. "Your Majesty, please stop teasing me. Your Majesty is the True Dragon, the Son of Heaven, whose life is as long as heaven and earth. You are surely protected by the gods and Buddhas..."
Sui Wei gave a light scoff. "There is no one else here. Why bother with such platitudes?"
Xiao Nanhui was silenced again.
"We are all but flesh and blood. Why bother borrowing the names of gods?"
She thought for a moment, then finally shook her head firmly. "Though we are all born human, our fates are different."
The man seemed to let out a low chuckle, but it vanished in an instant.
"In your opinion, is my life destined to end here?"
She reverted to her somewhat timid manner, rubbing her hands together. "Your Majesty, I am terrified..."
Before she could finish the sentence, a dull *clang* rang out to her left. Simultaneously, the entire carriage shuddered slightly.
Xiao Nanhui jolted. She quickly held the Pingxian across her chest, shielding the man in the darkness behind her, then reached out to check the left wall of the carriage.
"Do not panic. It is likely just a stray arrow."
No sooner had Sui Wei spoken than another *clang* sounded.
This time, she saw it clearly: a cold, sharp arrowhead had pierced through the wood of the carriage wall.
"Oh. It seems it wasn't."
He smiled. There wasn't much meaning in the smile, yet it created a bizarre sense of discordance with the current situation.
"Your Majesty, please do not speak again. I need to listen to the movements outside."
Her tone was unprecedentedly serious. She was like a hound that had caught the scent of prey, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.
The black feathers on the carriage’s eaves hung low and motionless.
On this windless, sunless morning, every movement could only be judged by sound.
Finally, the sounds of slaughter drew closer through the mist.
If the sky were brighter, one might see the fog stained blood-red by the splashing gore. But now, the sky was dark, though the metallic scent of blood rushing into the depths of one's nostrils was impossible to block.
Compared to this sensory oppression, a struggle that no one could voice yet was buried deep in their hearts was the true emotion permeating every soldier.
The hundred thousand troops Bai Helian had taken away years ago were originally Tiancheng soldiers. Most of them were not Nanqiang people; some were even from noble families raised in Quecheng, the same elegant young men who once sought warmth in the pleasure districts and sang over wine at night.
But now, over a decade had passed. Half of those youths had remained in the capital, making names for themselves in officialdom and achieving merit on the battlefield, becoming the pillars who now defended the country.
The other half had been forced to leave their homes, their youthful passion chilled by the winds of Suyan. They had been forced to settle on land that did not belong to them, gradually finding new homes they wished to defend.
Now, the enemies they raised their weapons against were also their former companions and shadows from their old dreams.
Defending the territory and pacifying the four directions was an unshakeable faith, just like the sharp swords and long spears in their hands, which could only ever point toward the direction of the campaign.
And the crime of treason offered no room for mercy or forgiveness, just like the path their horses' hooves had trodden—a road with no return.
The gloom of the eclipse was gradually dissipating, and light was slowly returning to the world.
The clatter of iron hooves sounded like rushing water entering the sea. The earth trembled slightly, followed by a sky-shaking roar of battle cries.
The slaughter on the battlefield had only just begun.
The Emperor’s carriage was carefully surrounded in an inconspicuous corner, already the safest place in Lu Songping’s deployment.
However, the perimeter could not withstand half an hour of continuous waves of attack. Gradually, enemy troops began to seep through and break into the surroundings. Sitting in the carriage, Xiao Nanhui could clearly hear the sound of blades piercing flesh and bone.
The Bai clan cavalry were seeing red, seemingly without a specific target, intent only on killing every Tiancheng soldier. As one group fell, another surged forward in a relentless, death-defying struggle.
It was the presence in this corner that the Bai clan could not break through for a long time, and as more and more soldiers gathered around it, it finally caught the attention of a pair of eyes among the enemy.
They were the eyes of a jackal—small, narrow, and cruel, surrounded by a large amount of white, looking savage and cold.
This was Kui Lang, one of the Four Riders of the Bai clan.
His background was similar to Mo Chunhua’s, being of mixed Tiancheng and Nanqiang blood. The difference was that he had grown up in Bijiang, and a hatred for Tiancheng flowed in his bones.
Kui Lang pulled back his spear, trailing a string of blood droplets. He leaped from his horse, stepping over the heads of the soldiers as he charged straight toward the supply wagons.
They said the Emperor of Tiancheng knew no martial arts. Could this be...
He wouldn't allow himself to guess wildly; he had to verify it personally.
He was skilled with the *ma shuo* (horse lance), his moves wide and powerful. The archers Lu Songping had deployed lost their advantage in close combat, and the originally tight and clever defensive line was torn open with a massive gap.
His premonition grew stronger, and the bloodlust brought by the scent of gore spread into a surge of excitement. He would gouge out the heart and liver of that damned Emperor and expose them on the divine statues of Sanmu Pass to see which Tiancheng person would dare set foot in Bijiang again.
After overturning several wagons in succession, the long lance in his hand felt increasingly agile. In the next instant, the eight-sided edge of the lance pierced into the door of a carriage. His hand jerked, and he pulled hard on his horse’s reins.
This sensation was different from the others.
Though it was only a brief moment of resistance, he was certain that the walls of this carriage were different from the previous ones.
A playful smirk curled on his face. He twisted his forearm with force, and with a *crack*, the carriage door was split open from the outside. A splinter of wood flew out and, by some stroke of ill luck, lodged itself into his right eye.
"Damn it."
Kui Lang cursed under his breath, frowning as he thrust his lance behind the door to investigate.
There were no cries for mercy, no panicked sounds as he had expected. The carriage was as silent as if it were empty...
Had he judged incorrectly? Unwilling to give up, he covered his throbbing right eye with his left hand, preparing to kick down the ruined door.
In the next moment, the door flew outward on its own, smashing into the head of a Bai clan rider who was galloping toward them. The unlucky soldier was instantly knocked unconscious.
It all happened in a flash.
Startled and suspicious, he reflexively raised his lance to thrust, only to find to his even greater astonishment that his black-iron lance, weighing over a hundred catties, felt as if it had been thrust into a mountain of stone. He couldn't pull it out or push it further.
He snapped his head up, using the brightening light to look toward the tip of his lance, and froze.
What... was this?
Behind the swaying, tattered carriage curtain, a woman in silver armor had his weapon clamped tightly under her left arm. Her extended right leg was slowly retracting. In front of a silk-wrapped wooden bench that had been split in two, she was slowly drawing out a silver rod only the length of an arm.
Kui Lang’s tense mouth sank, and his right eye throbbed even more violently.
"A stinking woman thinks she's fit to fight me..."
He didn't see the woman’s face clearly, only sensing another person behind her. He exerted force in both arms, intending to wrench his weapon free.
And Xiao Nanhui was waiting for this exact moment.
She stopped fighting against that massive force. Using her bracers and the edge of her underarm armor to lock onto the enemy’s lance tip, she used his own momentum to leap out of the carriage, charging straight for Kui Lang.
This move was extremely dangerous, requiring the spirit of seeking life within death.
However, the disparity in strength between a man and a woman is sometimes difficult to bridge.
Kui Lang gave a cold laugh, twisting his wrist to lower the lance shaft while his other arm, like an iron pincer, swiftly and accurately seized the woman’s throat. The short rod in her hand was just inches from his face, unable to move another fraction.
Simply pathetic.
The *ma shuo* was a long weapon, while the opponent’s weapon was much shorter. He felt a surge of triumph and gave a slight sneer at the strangely shaped rod.
But at that moment, he saw a mocking smile spread across the woman’s face.
The crisp sound of a mechanical spring echoed. He only had time to see a silver light flash directly toward his face. It was so fast that by the time he reacted, his throbbing right eye no longer hurt.
Because the right eye was gone, replaced by a dark, bloody hole.
The short rod that had been only an arm’s length a moment ago had rapidly extended into a long spear, piercing through his head.
It wasn't her martial strength that killed him, but his own arrogance.
The unwilling grip on her neck finally slackened. Xiao Nanhui coldly withdrew the Pingxian, not sparing the corpse another glance as she let the horse carry the slumped body away.
The light was brighter than before. When she turned back to the person in the carriage, the numbness following the slaughter had not yet faded from her face.
The sounds of fighting and stray arrows around her stimulated her eardrums, but she tried to force a gentle expression.
"Your Majesty." The woman rubbed the blood on her hands haphazardly against her hem, then reached out to cover the eyes that were as calm as a deep well. "This place is bloody. If you do not wish to, you need not look."
She felt a soft, fine sensation against her palm, like the wings of an insect brushing against her.
Yet it was this extremely fragile and tiny touch that allowed her to gradually calm down from the slaughter.
She paused, then moved her palm away. The man had obediently closed his eyes.
"Then take me away from here."
Xiao Nanhui took a deep breath, kicked away the broken carriage shaft, and gripped the dozen or so reins firmly in her hands.
"I will take Your Majesty out of here alive."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
赤色蛟 | Red Jiao | A mythical flood dragon-like creature.
雾隐 | Mist Hiding | The name of the military operation (Wuyin).
錞于 | Chunyu | An ancient bronze percussion instrument used for military signals.
踏云箭 | Cloud-Treading Arrows | Specialized heavy arrows used by the Black Feather Camp.
落日长弓 | Setting Sun Longbow | The longbows used by the Black Feather Camp.
犀兕之甲 | Rhino-hide armor | Armor made from the thick hides of rhinoceros and wild oxen (Xixi).
奎郎 | Kui Lang | One of the "Four Riders" of the Bai clan.
马槊 | Ma Shuo | A heavy, long horse lance or spear.
平弦 | Pingxian | Xiao Nanhui's signature weapon, a mechanical extending spear.
