Huo Tingshan mentioned leaving the city today, and with time being tight, Pei Ying sent Xin Jin to inform her daughter.
Pei Ying returned to her room and retrieved a small chest she had kept buried at the very bottom.
Had there been anyone else present, they would have been astonished—the notice to pack had only just arrived, yet when Pei Ying opened the chest, the travel essentials inside were already prepared.
There weren’t many items, but the basics were all there.
Pei Ying stared at the chest for a moment before closing it again.
Lunch was served earlier than usual. After the meal, the group boarded a carriage.
Aside from Pei Ying and her daughter, Gongsun Liang also accompanied them out of the city. Huo Tingshan had dispatched a cavalry unit to escort the carriage as it made its way beyond the city gates.
Today, the bustling streets of Yuanshan County seemed no different from yesterday—still lively, with an endless stream of carriages and pedestrians. As Pei Ying’s carriage passed through the marketplace, she suddenly heard a surge of commotion.
"It’s the General!"
"The General is truly majestic, like the reincarnation of the God of War."
"Thank you, General, for upholding justice for this humble one. In my next life, I vow to serve you as an ox or horse, repaying your kindness in righting my wrongs."
"Ha! Wang Zhuzi, you sly fox, talking about your next life. Not me—if the General is willing, I’d serve him as an ox or horse in this very lifetime!"
Pei Ying discreetly lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and saw crowds of commoners kneeling and kowtowing on both sides of the street.
Huo Tingshan had appeared in public before—during the bustling Mid-Autumn Festival, he had strolled through the streets with her—but never had he received such reverence.
Huo Tingshan’s reputation among the people had soared.
Pei Ying lowered the curtain.
No wonder the powerful families were restless. If Huo Tingshan continued to grow in influence, they would stand no chance.
The procession escorting Pei Ying out of the city was anything but discreet. Every influential family monitoring the Governor’s Mansion would have taken notice. To them, this could only mean one thing:
With his weakness now removed, it was time for Huo Tingshan to make his move.
Pei Ying arrived at the military camp, a place she had stayed in before and was familiar with.
Huo Tingshan looked down at the beautiful woman before him.
Sunlight bathed her fair complexion, her delicate skin tinged with a soft pink. She wore a dark round-collared ruqun made of Shu brocade, her graceful figure a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings of the camp.
Huo Tingshan said, "Stay for a day or two. I’ll come to bring you back."
Pei Ying nodded.
After ensuring their safety, Huo Tingshan left Chen Yuan at the camp and returned to the city with his men.
"Ling’er, still upset?" Pei Ying gently stroked her daughter’s head.
Yesterday, Meng Ling’er had only clung to her and cried, saying nothing else, so Pei Ying had pretended not to know.
"I’m not upset," Meng Ling’er mumbled. "Mother, I just don’t understand something."
The day before yesterday, she had met with Banxia as usual, and along the way, she encountered Second Young Master Hua again. Their repeated "chance" meetings had long become an unspoken understanding between them.
She admired Second Young Master Hua, and he had shown affection for her. They were kindred spirits, stealing moments together daily under the guise of meeting friends.
She had assumed that soon, under her mother’s and the Hua Family’s arrangements, they would be betrothed. But after their last meeting, as she prepared to return home, she ran into Captain Chen.
Captain Chen claimed he was taking her for an assessment to evaluate her recent training. At first, she was excited—until he led her over a wall into someone’s estate.
Climbing walls like a thief was something she had never done before. Before she could question him, Captain Chen had marched straight in, even knocking out a gatekeeper without hesitation.
Standing outside a room, she listened as the young man she adored—who supposedly adored her—reported every detail of their interactions to his grandfather.
His grandfather was pleased, urging him to secure her favor as the niece of Huo Youzhou, for it would bring great benefits. She heard the young man agree, vowing not to disappoint his grandfather’s expectations.
Expectations.
So their so-called connection was nothing but his grandfather’s scheme. It was all a lie—he had deceived her.
"What don’t you understand?" Pei Ying asked.
Meng Ling’er looked up, confusion in her eyes. "Shouldn’t love be unconditional? Like you and Father—deeply in love, perfectly matched."
Pei Ying pulled her daughter into an embrace. "Of course not. Your father and I had conditions too. Our families were of equal standing. Had I been born in the countryside, the daughter of a hunter, your grandmother would never have allowed our marriage."
The Meng Family had been wealthy in Beichuan County, while the Pei Family were merchants with considerable means—a suitable match. But once Meng Ducang became the county magistrate, the Pei Family no longer measured up.
Meng Ling’er opened her mouth but said nothing.
Pei Ying understood her daughter’s turmoil.
The love between Meng Ducang and Madam Pei was rare in their time. How many could claim a childhood bond that blossomed into romance, culminating in a natural union?
To Meng Ling’er, her parents’ love-filled marriage might have seemed the norm. Raised in affection, she had assumed mutual fondness was enough for marriage.
"I see…" Meng Ling’er murmured.
Others only valued her as "Huo Tingshan’s niece," not for who she truly was. But that identity was a lie—she wasn’t even his niece.
Any affection built on that foundation was hollow.
"Mother, love in this world is too complicated. I’m unlucky—I’ll never meet someone like Father." Meng Ling’er exhaled deeply, as if expelling all her frustration. "I’d rather focus on my studies. At least they’re interesting."
Pei Ying’s gaze grew troubled.
Though it was too early to arrange a marriage for her daughter, seeing her so disillusioned worried her. Had this heartbreak cut too deep?
If she became wary of love altogether, what then?
Meng Ling’er didn’t know her mother’s concerns, but she couldn’t help overthinking now.
Were all those young men who showered her with attention just after her status? If so, what was the point?
"Mother, I just remembered—I have unfinished schoolwork. I should go complete it." Meng Ling’er trudged off, her voice subdued.
Pei Ying watched her daughter’s retreating figure and sighed wistfully.
Pei Ying adjusted well to life at the camp.
Given the grand spectacle of their departure, she had expected a peaceful night. But as it turned out, she was no master of intrigue.
As if aiming to catch Huo Tingshan off guard, the powerful families launched simultaneous attacks that very night. Flames engulfed the Governor’s Mansion, lighting up the sky.
At the same time, a cavalry unit from Sizhou raced down the official road under cover of darkness, swiftly advancing toward the Youzhou military camp.
The terrain of Yuanshan Commandery was strategically advantageous—easy to defend but hard to attack. Steep cliffs rose on both sides, and the entrance narrowed like a funnel. In some places, passage was only possible through the river valleys winding between towering mountains.
When Yuan Ding initially chose Yuanshan Commandery as his stronghold within Ji Province, it was largely due to its superior natural defenses.
This time, the leader of Si Province’s forces was Liu Qianbiao, the younger brother of Liu Baiquan. Upon learning of Li Sizhou’s intentions, Liu Qianbiao volunteered without hesitation to lead the expedition—both to earn merit and to avenge his brother.
As for Li Sizhou, the governor of Si Province, after receiving the secret report, he pondered deeply. His thoughts turned to Ji Province, now seemingly "masterless," and to his daughter, who wept day and night.
By all logic, the situation should have been "settled"—Ji Province was already in Huo Tingshan’s grasp. If Huo Tingshan had left the local magnates untouched, he could have swallowed this rich prize whole.
But now, complications had arisen.
Huo Tingshan had moved against the local magnates.
When Li Sizhou learned of this, he couldn’t help but laugh, calling Huo Tingshan a fool for targeting the entrenched powers of the region—and worse, attempting to uproot them entirely.
These magnates had entrenched themselves over generations, becoming the proverbial "local snakes." As the saying went, a strong dragon could not suppress a local serpent. By provoking them, Huo Tingshan had invited rebellion.
The city of Yuanshan Commandery was indeed difficult to assault—but only if its gates remained shut.
With inside help, breaching the defenses would be effortless.
As for justification, that was simple.
They could claim to have received a plea for aid from Wu Tonghai, the Palace Attendant, alleging that Huo Youzhou had abused his authority to imprison him, forcing him to seek Si Province’s intervention.
A righteous cause for war.
Last time, Si Province’s forces had suffered heavy losses against Youzhou’s cavalry, equipped with stirrups. But this time would be different—Li Sizhou, based on descriptions from his soldiers, had replicated the stirrups and saddles.
After testing them, he was ecstatic.
With these game-changing tools and the cover of night, they could storm Youzhou’s camp under darkness, cutting down its soldiers as easily as slicing vegetables.
Still, Liu Qianbiao remained cautious. The mountain paths were treacherous, ripe for ambushes. To minimize risk, he sent scouts ahead to survey the route before advancing further.
In the darkness, a cold breeze swept through, and the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed against the mountain road.
A night crow, startled by the passing horses, flapped from one tree to another. Then, as if spotting something unsettling, it took flight again with a harsh cry.
"Caw—caw—"
The sound sent an inexplicable chill down Liu Qianbiao’s spine.
Just as he was about to call for a halt, two riders approached—the scouts he had sent ahead. Liu Qianbiao exhaled in relief, chiding himself for his nerves.
He had let Huo Youzhou’s fearsome reputation unsettle him. That wouldn’t do.
"Deputy Commander, the path ahead is clear," reported the scout.
"Good!" Liu Qianbiao replied.
Ahead lay a small basin—had there been an ambush, his forces would have been at a severe disadvantage. But luck was on their side.
Of course. The message had been delivered in strict secrecy, and their cavalry had marched at full speed. How could Huo Tingshan possibly know they were already upon him?
From his vantage point, Sha Ying watched the approaching troops, a bloodthirsty grin spreading across his face.
They had finally arrived. All his efforts to evade the scouts had not been in vain.
Sha Ying tugged a vine beside him.
Like a slithering snake, the vine transmitted his signal backward. The Youzhou soldiers, lined up in formation, exchanged eager glances.
"Caw—caw—"
The "night crow’s" cry resounded through the valley.
An answering call came almost instantly.
The moment the echo faded, Sha Ying heaved a massive boulder forward.
"Boom—"
Like rolling thunder, the rocks cascaded down from both sides of the path.
Liu Qianbiao’s face paled. "Ambush!"
Sha Ying bellowed, "Archers—loose!"
At the same time, within Yuanshan Commandery...
A hail of arrows rained down on the governor’s residence—but these were no ordinary arrows. Their tips were aflame, streaking through the air before embedding themselves in pools of oil splashed along the walls.
The oil had spilled from shattered jars hurled moments earlier. When the fire arrows struck, the flames erupted instantly.
The tactic was effective, but the jars’ limited throwing range meant only the perimeter could be targeted.
As the governor’s residence blazed, chaos erupted among the gate guards.
Some of Ji Province’s native garrison suddenly demanded the gates be opened. Their bewildered comrades refused, sparking clashes with Youzhou’s soldiers.
Amid the confusion, waves of private militia—their origins unknown—swarmed the walls, joining the local defenders in resisting Youzhou’s forces.
"General, they’ve made their move on the gates," Xiong Mao reported, striding in.
Huo Tingshan’s gaze lingered in the direction of the camp. "Naturally. Without control of the gates, how else would they clear the way for Si Province’s army? Let them reveal more of their hidden forces first."
The man turned, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Come. Let us greet them."
As the governor’s residence burned, Youzhou soldiers assigned to firefighting sprang into action.
This time, they didn’t rely on water vats. Teams hauled large leather water bags, while others darted about with smaller flasks.
Huo Tingshan led Xiong Mao and the others through a less-engulfed exit.
As expected, armed militia awaited them outside, loosing arrows the moment they emerged.
Huo Tingshan swiftly retreated inside.
The barrage showed no sign of stopping.
"Remove the gates," Huo Tingshan ordered.
Xiong Mao obeyed, swinging his longsword at the hinges. With a deafening crack, the blade sheared through the metal, and the massive door toppled.
The second gate met the same fate.
Now shielded by the thick wooden doors, the Youzhou soldiers advanced, deflecting the arrows with ease.
Seeing their projectiles useless, the militia abandoned ranged attacks and charged with blades drawn.
Huo Tingshan stood at the vanguard, his imposing frame clad in black armor. His ring-pommel sword flashed free, its gleaming surface soon streaked crimson.
Under the night sky, the firelight carved sharp angles across Huo Tingshan’s face—cold, ruthless, like a provoked beast baring its fangs. Where he passed, bodies fell in his wake.
Blood spread like a rising tide, painting the ground scarlet.
The flames illuminated the carnage—bodies pierced through the chest, throats slit, some even cleaved in two—turning the scene into a vivid hellscape.
The militia recoiled in shock. They hadn’t expected Youzhou’s forces to be this ferocious. Huo Tingshan, in particular, cut through them effortlessly, unstoppable as a force of nature.
"Quick—fire!"
The militia forces retreated continuously, unwilling to engage in close combat.
Chaos engulfed the surroundings of the Governor's residence. At first, some citizens were startled awake by the commotion and rose from their beds, only to be met with towering flames and the clamor of battle. Sleep fled from them entirely.
Though curious, none dared to venture outside.
Every household bolted their doors, waiting for daylight to reveal what had transpired.
Among those who shut their gates were the Qiu and Li families, along with a few minor local powers.
In recent days, the Qiu family had been repeatedly summoned to banquets at the Governor's residence. Qiu Botong had been right—the hidden dagger had finally been drawn, and Huo Tingshan had laid everything bare.
He gave him a choice: to stand by his side or not.
Qiu Botong laughed bitterly to himself.
A choice?
There was no choice to be made.
Qiu Botong’s wife, Li Zhitao, hailed from the Li family. Her full brother was none other than Sect Leader Li himself.
The sect leader doted on his younger sister immensely. Persuaded by her and after much deliberation, Sect Leader Li gritted his teeth and resisted the pressure, refusing to contribute militia forces as the Xiao family had demanded.
Of all the major powers in Yuanshan County, only the Qiu and Li families had refused the conscription.
Tonight was destined to be sleepless. The Xiao family’s estate blazed with light. Xiao Xiong, now in his sixties, sat in the main hall, his right hand slowly turning a string of sandalwood prayer beads.
His sons were present as well. The most impatient among them, Second Master Xiao, paced back and forth.
"Second Brother, would you sit down? Your pacing is making my head spin," Third Master Xiao said, rubbing his temples.
Second Master Xiao was frantic. "How can I sit still? With the way things are unfolding tonight, let’s be blunt—whether our centuries-old Xiao family survives depends on this very night."
"What’s there to fear? The combined militia forces from the county number over ten thousand. Surely they can crush a handful of Youzhou soldiers," Third Master Xiao scoffed.
Second Master Xiao closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If only it were just a handful. There are at least a thousand Youzhou troops in the city, and in terms of equipment and combat experience, we are sorely outmatched."
"Don’t fret. By my calculations, the Sizhou army should arrive soon. Once they do, we’ll have them trapped inside and out. No matter how capable Huo Tingshan is, he won’t escape," Third Master Xiao said with a smirk.
Eldest Master Xiao twisted the ring on his finger. The lack of news about the Sizhou army’s arrival filled him with unease.
It felt as though he were walking a thin rope over a deep ravine, with nothing to hold onto. The mountain winds howled, and he swayed perilously.
"Report!" A servant rushed in, breathless.
"Well? Has the Sizhou army arrived?" Third Master Xiao sprang to his feet.
The servant dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground. "Master, the Youzhou soldiers are advancing on us."
"How is that possible?"
"They’re… attacking? With so many militia forces, how could they not hold them back?"
Xiao Xiong rose from his seat, his expression eerily calm. "To the secret chamber."
Cut off the head, and the body will fall—it was no surprise their enemies would target the Xiao family first.
Now, their only option was to endure, to hold out until the Sizhou army arrived and turned the tide.
The secret chamber was cramped, so Xiao Xiong only allowed his sons and favored grandsons to accompany him. Before sealing the door, he instructed the servants outside to report once the situation improved.
The servants bowed in acknowledgment.
The chamber, buried underground, was soundproof, muffling all noise from above.
Time crawled by.
Just as Second Master Xiao was about to doze off, a heavy scraping sound echoed from above—the chamber door being forced open.
Everyone tensed.
Second Master Xiao bolted upright and moved toward the stairs leading up.
But he froze. The footsteps descending were not those of a servant.
They were slow, unhurried, devoid of the usual deference. Instead, they carried a lazy menace, like a cat toying with a cornered rat before delivering the killing blow.
Second Master Xiao stood rigid, staring at the passageway. He called out the names of the servants stationed above.
No answer came.
Xiao Xiong and Eldest Master Xiao paled.
The footsteps drew closer, until a towering figure emerged before the Xiao family.
The man carried a ring-pommeled saber, his black armor drenched in blood. His handsome face bore the marks of time at the corners of his smiling eyes.
He advanced step by step, his black boots leaving faint bloody prints. To the Xiao family, he might as well have been a demon incarnate.
"H-Huo Tingshan?!" Second Master Xiao stammered.
Huo Tingshan rolled his neck, then casually rested the saber on his shoulder. "What, surprised to see me?"
"You—"
"Me what? Waiting for the Sizhou army? Don’t bother. They won’t be coming," Huo Tingshan said with a chuckle.
Eldest Master Xiao nearly crushed the ring in his grip. "So the letters we sent to Sizhou—you let them through on purpose?"
If Youzhou wished to wage war against Sizhou, they needed a pretext. Now that Sizhou had crossed into Jizhou, seizing Yuanshan County would be their only saving grace. Failure would hand Huo Tingshan the perfect justification.
Huo Tingshan ignored the question. His gaze swept over the room. "So, the core of the Xiao family is all here, is it?"
Xiao Xiong, who had merely looked grave before, now swayed on his feet. "Huo Tingshan, what do you intend to do?!"
Huo Tingshan had no patience for further talk. With a gesture, his Youzhou soldiers flooded in, swiftly binding the Xiao family members.
The fires raged through the city all night. The streets were littered with corpses, rivers of blood flowing between them.
Outside the city, boulders lay scattered across the mountain path. The banner of the Sizhou army lay snapped in two, one half buried in the dirt. The bloodstained fabric, trampled underfoot, was now indistinguishable from rags.
Pei Ying had been roused in the middle of the night by the clamor in the camp—soldiers mobilizing for reinforcements. After drifting back to sleep, she found no rest.
By dawn, sleep had abandoned her entirely, though her daughter still slumbered peacefully beside her.
The beautiful woman rose quietly, dressed, and stepped out of the tent.
The sky was pale with the first light of morning. Autumn had passed, and the early winter mist lent the surroundings an ethereal haze.
Chen Yuan spotted Pei Ying and approached. "Does Madam Pei require anything?"
Pei Ying shook her head. "No, I merely woke early and wished to take a walk."
Chen Yuan hesitated before speaking. "There’s a small lake about a mile from here. The scenery is pleasant. If Madam has leisure, you might enjoy a stroll there."
"Clatter-clatter-clatter—"
The sound of galloping horses approached from the distance. The camp, first on alert, suddenly erupted in uproar.
Pei Ying faintly heard someone shout, "The general returns!"
Like oil meeting a hot pan, the camp exploded with noise.
Chen Yuan turned toward the commotion, his expression calm, as though he had expected this outcome all along.
The hoofbeats did not slow, drawing ever nearer.
In the hazy mist, a lone rider pierced through the fog, emerging into Pei Ying's line of sight.
Huo Tingshan rode forward on his steed, spotting Pei Ying outside the tent and raising an eyebrow before noticing Chen Yuan standing opposite her.
As his horse, Wu Ye, approached the pair, Huo Tingshan remained mounted, eyeing Chen Yuan with a cold glance. "Aren’t you supposed to be leading the patrol? Did I station you in the army just to stand around like a block of wood?"
Chen Yuan clasped his hands in salute and offered a quick, "Congratulations on your triumphant return, General," before swiftly retreating.
Pei Ying watched his retreating figure, feeling he had been scolded unfairly. When she had first woken, she had seen him standing outside—likely having stayed awake the entire night.
Huo Tingshan made no move to dismount. "Madam Pei is awake early today. Could it be that sleep eludes you?"
Pei Ying answered truthfully, "Perhaps it’s the unfamiliar surroundings. I found little rest."
"In that case, let me take you somewhere."
Before she could respond, he had already pulled her onto Wu Ye’s back.
As she settled onto the horse, Pei Ying felt as if she could hear the snap of a taut string in her mind. He had ridden through the night, covered in dust, likely having taken lives—his black robes surely stained with blood.
But then, a faint, familiar scent of soap reached her.
She froze in surprise.
