Ji Bo’s movements froze. He stared at the man who had spoken, disbelief written across his face. “You… you’re Wei Tai?”
Wei Tai stepped forward, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “That’s right.”
Ji Bo’s pupils contracted as he looked at the man before him, clad in armor and covered in blood, a long saber in hand and an air of proud confidence about him.
The feeling was familiar yet strange, leaving him dazed for a moment. The scene from when they had captured Wei Tai flashed through his mind.
This Young Marquis, who had once submitted beneath him, had also been a fierce and ruthless warrior on the battlefield, with the blood of countless Ji soldiers staining his hands.
And now, it seemed they had returned to that battlefield once more.
Ji Bo closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were clear and cold. “Ha. As expected of those treacherous Han dogs. You actually faked your death!”
As he spoke, screams rose from the steward and servants inside the residence. Moments later, silence returned.
A vicious glint flashed through Ji Bo’s eyes. “Those servants once waited on you as well. What a heartless bastard. Have you forgotten the good days you enjoyed in my general’s residence?”
Wei Tai was not angered by his words. His voice remained calm. “How could I forget? I remember every one of those countless days and nights with perfect clarity.”
“After tonight, you—and everything here—will be erased from my memory. Because I will personally cut off your head!”
Ji Bo could not help throwing back his head and laughing. “You? You think you can do that?”
The corner of Wei Tai’s mouth lifted. “Yes. I can.”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he gripped his saber with both hands and charged at Ji Bo.
Ji Bo had been on guard against him from the beginning. He raised his saber to block.
With a clang, blue sparks burst through the pitch-black night.
From that single exchange, he could tell that Wei Tai’s weapon was extraordinary—sharper and more durable than any ordinary blade.
Wei Tai, however, was consumed by fury. A hint of barely perceptible madness burned in his eyes.
He wanted this man dead!
He raised his saber and struck again, swift and decisive.
Ji Bo had no choice but to grip his own weapon with both hands and hold it above his brow.
Clang. Sparks flew once more.
Clang, clang, clang.
Wei Tai delivered three more strikes in succession, each heavier and steadier than the last.
Amid the flashes of fire, he seemed to see his parents’ kind smiles and his brothers and sisters playing together. In the blink of an eye, everything turned blood-red.
His eyes were stained crimson.
At that moment, he realized that he was not fighting only for himself.
Those who had survived had endured too much, and too many hopes had been placed upon their shoulders.
Ji Bo had never imagined that Wei Tai, who had not held a blade in two years, would be even more formidable than he had been back then.
Every strike was vicious. Every strike was aimed to kill.
Having lost the initiative with the first move, Ji Bo found himself unable to counterattack. He could only defend, and defend again.
The copper rings on the back of his saber gave off a crisp, scattered clatter.
From the sound alone, he knew that if this continued, the blade that had accompanied him for more than a decade would soon give way.
He could not understand where Wei Tai had obtained such a divine weapon.
Nor could he understand how Wei Tai had suddenly unleashed such terrifying strength.
With Wei Tai pressing him step by step, Ji Bo could spare no thought for anything else. The veins in his arms bulged as he met the descending blade head-on. With all his strength, he shoved Wei Tai back two steps.
Almost at the same time, his saber came chasing after him, slashing toward Wei Tai’s neck.
Wei Tai did not retreat. Instead, he advanced, tilting his body slightly to avoid the vital point in his neck. He allowed the saber to strike his arm, sending sparks flying from his armor.
He seemed not to feel the pain. Turning his blade, he swept it fiercely toward Ji Bo’s waist and abdomen.
Ji Bo had not expected Wei Tai to disregard his own safety just to attack. This completely reckless fighting style forced him onto the defensive once more, reversing the advantage he had only just managed to regain.
He had no choice but to defend again.
Wei Tai twisted his wrist. The saber rose, then fell.
Clang.
The blade struck Ji Bo’s shoulder. Several iron plates flew from his armor, and blood splashed onto the ground.
Ji Bo felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder, and his left hand went almost completely numb.
A cold flash appeared before him. He had no choice but to raise his saber again.
The heavy saber struck the copper-ringed blade, producing a shrill clash of metal.
A faint cracking sound was drowned out by the copper rings’ buzzing resonance.
A cruel glint flashed through Wei Tai’s eyes. He poured all his strength into another downward strike.
With a tremendous clang, Ji Bo’s saber broke.
The force of the blow did not diminish. It continued toward Ji Bo’s neck, spraying blood into the air and staining the ginkgo tree in the courtyard red.
Ji Bo staggered back two steps. Unable to remain standing, he dropped to one knee with a heavy thud. Only the broken half of his saber, driven into the mud, kept him from collapsing completely.
Fear and bewilderment filled his eyes.
Clutching his neck as blood gushed uncontrollably between his fingers, he struggled to raise his head and look at Wei Tai. “Who are you? Is it… the Jinyang Army?”
Wei Tai breathed heavily as he looked down at him. “You don’t deserve to know.”
With that, he raised the bloodied saber and brought it down again.
Ji Bo’s head flew through the air.
At the North Gate.
Listening to the shouts outside the city growing steadily clearer, along with the sound of approaching hooves, Nan Wen thought to himself, What astonishing speed!
He had only just taken the North Gate, yet the patrol soldiers outside the city had already noticed that something was wrong.
“Brothers, get ready. Wait until the Ji soldiers enter the firelight and reach the area near the moat before attacking. Make sure you aim carefully!”
Although their lord had brought enough arrows this time, Nan Wen had once been a bandit and knew what it was like to be poor. Naturally, he wanted to conserve their supplies wherever possible.
Besides, he had been pent up for far too long. During this period, he had only been able to fight guerrilla battles and kill the enemy in small numbers. It had never been satisfying enough.
Before long, a troop entered the firelight. There were not many of them, perhaps seven or eight hundred.
They were soldiers patrolling the area around Wenxia City. They had vaguely seen the flames on the city wall go out and had hurried over to investigate.
Looking at the pitch-black city wall and the torches scattered across the ground, the Ji soldiers began to feel uneasy.
Their commander reined in his horse and shouted, “What is happening inside the city? Why have the fire basins been extinguished? What are all these torches on the ground? Open the city gates at once and let us in!”
The answer was Nan Wen’s command.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
Yun Yu gave the same order at the South Gate.
But he was not attacking the soldiers who had come from outside the city. He was attacking the Ji patrol troops charging toward the South Gate from within the city.
They had to defend the walls against soldiers outside the city while also dealing with the troops inside.
That was the meaning of letting the enemy bloom at the center: they were surrounded by enemies on all four sides.
Although large numbers of soldiers had been dispatched throughout the city to ambush and kill the Ji troops, Wenxia City was enormous. It was impossible to wipe them all out.
The Great Chanyu’s residence had been expanded from the governor’s mansion and occupied a vast area.
Chu Qing and the dozen or so shackled brothers followed Jiang Jin into the residence, cutting their way inside.
Two quarters of an hour earlier, Ji Xin had led them to a low building, where they had finally met the person they had always been curious about and longing to see.
When Chu Qing saw Jiang Jin, he felt neither surprise nor shock. It was as though there had never been any other possibility. The master of Ye Shang and the others ought to be someone like her.
While they stood there in stunned silence, Jiang Jin spoke.
“I am the Lord of the Jinyang Army, the sixth daughter of Emperor Yan. You may call me Princess, or you may call me Lord.”
“From this day forward, I will defend Wenxia City alongside you. You are home.”
Chu Qing’s throat tightened instantly. His eyes reddened, and he trembled so badly that he could not speak for a moment.
In that instant, all the resentment and unresolved grievances he had carried were soothed.
It turned out that someone still remembered them: remembered their sacrifices and suffering, remembered this city and this land trampled beneath the hooves of the barbarian cavalry.
It turned out that someone else was striving and crawling forward just as they were, all for the sake of this day—the day they would rise again and strike back.
He lowered his eyes to conceal the tears within them, then bowed in the formal salute of a subject to their sovereign.
“Greetings, my lord. I am Chu Qing. I swear to follow you unto death.”
Behind him, Li Feng and the others bowed in unison. “Greetings, my lord. We swear to follow you unto death.”
Jiang Jin nodded. “Are you prepared?”
Chu Qing straightened at once. “We would gladly face death ten thousand times over!”
