Chapter 78: Even If I Am Alone, I Will Walk to the End

Two days later

The Azure Dragon presented Chu Shanhe’s approved decree to Liu Yingxiu, the current leader of the Blood River Tower, and said, “The Chief Constable has reviewed it and is very satisfied with the results of our discussion. However, he did mention one more thing.”

“Oh? Please enlighten me, Azure Dragon Envoy. I will certainly comply,” Liu Yingxiu immediately replied, bowing his head.

“It’s nothing major. It’s just that Gu Fanshuang’s overall performance as a disciple far surpasses those of previous years. So the Chief Constable wants you to pay special attention to her. Do your best not to let her perish in this assessment.”

“Oh? The Chief Constable favors Gu Fanshuang?” Liu Yingxiu calculated swiftly in his heart, then responded, “The Chief Constable’s orders will, of course, be executed with all our efforts. I will take special care of Gu Fanshuang in the final assessment.”

The Azure Dragon chuckled lightly and waved his hand. “There’s no need to go so far, Sect Master. Just see that she’s kept in a safe position; assigning bodyguards would defeat the purpose of the assessment.”

“Understood, absolutely,” Liu Yingxiu nodded at once.

“I’ll be on my way then. There are still matters that require my attention. I leave the affairs of the sect in your capable hands, Sect Master Liu,” the Azure Dragon said, offering a slight bow before preparing to depart.

Liu Yingxiu, inwardly pleased at the Azure Dragon’s departure, allowed a note of joy to creep into his tone. “Safe travels, Your Excellency. The affairs of the sect are naturally my duty; there is no need for further concern.”

“Hearing this from you sets my mind at ease,” the Azure Dragon replied with a few polite words.

“Then… forgive me for not seeing you out?”

“No need, no need. Farewell.”

With those words, the Azure Dragon turned, tapped his toe lightly, and drifted away as gracefully as a leaf on an autumn breeze.

Liu Yingxiu gently fingered the decree in his hand, murmuring, “Gu Fanshuang… If I recall, she’s in the same group as that young chief Ming Li from the Southern Court. Quite interesting.”

...

Meanwhile, in the heart of Bing Prefecture on the northern frontier of the Great Ming, a tavern was alive with music and dance.

Especially in the largest private room above, where a man sat in the place of honor, one foot propped on his seat. With a square jaw and a full beard, his rugged features exuded a commanding masculinity. His upper body was half-bare, the powerful muscles making it clear he was not someone to be trifled with.

He leaned his left arm on his knee, right hand holding a wine cup. As he drained it, his eyes remained fixed with keen interest on the dancers before him.

On either side, beautiful women vied for his attention, pressing close and offering him wine, hoping to beguile this distinguished guest with their seductive glances and soft, alluring voices.

But the man paid them no heed. His gaze never left the dancer at the center of the crowd. Amid the swirling beauties, she moved with an enchanting grace, every gesture and glance tugging at the heartstrings of all who watched.

As the dance ended, she met his eyes with a gaze so brimming with emotion that it seemed ready to overflow.

“You may all go now. I have words for Xixuan alone; do not disturb us,” the man said as Jiang Xixuan finished her dance, eager to share a moment of intimacy.

The others, well accustomed to this scene, quietly withdrew.

“Why so late today?” Jiang Xixuan, once they were alone, slipped into her familiar posture, settling herself in the man’s lap.

“I had no choice. Military matters are heavy these days—especially since I’m posted at the frontier. You must understand,” the weariness in the man’s eyes made it clear he spoke the truth.

Jiang Xixuan filled his cup and offered it to him. “You work so hard. If only one day there were no more wars at the border, we could live our lives free and at ease.”

“If only it were that simple,” the man replied with a wry smile, gently stroking Jiang Xixuan’s back. Her skin was silkier than satin, and the closeness filled him with joy.

“Since the defeat of the Three Kingdoms coalition, the northern powers have been restless. To endure until now is already the limit. General Yang spoke with me—he believes within ten years, those tribes will strike at us.”

“Then you’ll be in great danger,” Jiang Xixuan gripped his hand, her eyes filled with worry. “Xinhong, promise me—no matter how urgent the fighting, you must protect your own life.”

“I know,” Shao Xinhong smiled at her gentle face, pulling her into his arms. “As long as you’re with me, I have every reason to live. When I’ve saved enough silver, I’ll buy your freedom at once.”

“I want to be with you always,” Jiang Xixuan nodded softly. “To me, you’re the most valiant general in the world. I believe you’ll one day ride your fine steed to marry me in earnest.”

Gazing at the delicate, lovable woman in his arms, Shao Xinhong replied with firm resolve, “I will. That day will come—very soon.”

“Truly?” Jiang Xixuan looked up at him, her face bright with hope, endearing beyond words.

Shao Xinhong playfully tapped her nose with his finger. “When have I ever lied to you?”

...

After a tender interlude, Shao Xinhong and Jiang Xixuan dressed and descended the stairs, where they were met by the madam of the house. The madam, long familiar with the comings and goings of officers, recognized this valued patron at once.

She hurried forward, beaming. “General, you’ve just come from Xixuan, haven’t you? You work so hard to keep this land safe. How about a few more drinks?”

While speaking, she signaled a nearby girl, who expertly took Shao Xinhong’s arm and whispered, her breath fragrant, “General, after all the battles you’ve seen, surely you can handle a few more cups?”

Shao Xinhong’s face turned stern as he pushed the girl aside and said to the madam, “If there’s nothing important, I’ll be on my way. Take good care of Xixuan for me.”

The madam swept her handkerchief before her face, smiling broadly. “You may rest assured, General. Xixuan is my dearest treasure—I give her only the best, things I can’t bear to use myself. She’s spent years adrift, and to have your love is her good fortune.”

“Thank you, Madam Liu,” Shao Xinhong’s tone softened at her words. With a respectful bow, he set off for his post.

He could visit Jiang Xixuan at midday only once every five days, sharing a precious moment of peace with her. They had known each other for three years now.

Back then, Jiang Xixuan had just been taken in by Madam Liu. With her graceful figure and stunning beauty, she quickly became the tavern’s star performer. Patrons flocked to hear her sing and dance.

But the madam, wanting Xixuan to have a better life, ensured she only performed, never sold herself.

Shao Xinhong first came at his men’s urging—they pooled their silver to have Xixuan dance in celebration. That was the first time he saw the woman who stole his heart.

Their relationship grew quickly, thanks in no small part to Madam Liu, who knew Shao Xinhong was the trusted lieutenant of Yu Wenqi, the most powerful among the three frontier generals. Such a chance she would not let slip, and she did everything in her power to bring them together.

Their feelings blossomed rapidly. Twice, Xixuan even sneaked into the military camp to visit Shao Xinhong, with his men’s help, to celebrate his birthday in secret.

After finding rest and comfort with Jiang Xixuan, Shao Xinhong felt wholly rejuvenated.

But as he was about to return to camp, he found Yu Wenqi’s men waiting for him at the gates.

“General Yu wants to see you at once—he has urgent matters to discuss.” The messenger was one of Yu Wenqi’s trusted aides, responsible for his safety.

“If he’s sent for me himself, it must be important. Could it be that something is stirring among the northern nations?” As Shao Xinhong speculated, the messenger urged him again. “The General is waiting. You should go at once.”

“Oh—yes, I’m on my way,” Shao Xinhong replied, snapping from his thoughts.

But upon arriving at the general’s residence, something felt amiss. The atmosphere, usually strict, now seemed icy, as if a great enemy was at hand.

Full of curiosity, Shao Xinhong entered the reception hall and, guided by the maids, took his seat to await Yu Wenqi’s arrival.

The oppressive mood made each second crawl by.

After the time of two incense sticks, Yu Wenqi still had not appeared. Shao Xinhong glanced at the motionless servants around him, growing restless. Yet he dared not leave and could only pour himself cup after cup of tea.

At last, the master appeared.

Yu Wenqi entered hurriedly, his face grave, which immediately filled Shao Xinhong with dread. He stood to greet him, but Yu Wenqi raised a hand to silence him.

Yu Wenqi signaled to the maids and servants, who quickly and quietly withdrew.

Once everyone had left and the doors were closed, Yu Wenqi shut his eyes, saying nothing. Shao Xinhong could see he was using a spiritual technique—one that only those of transcendent cultivation could master. Yu Wenqi, now half a step into the Thousand Dao realm, was thoroughly adept at such things.

Only after sweeping his senses over the entire estate to ensure no eavesdroppers remained did Yu Wenqi finally speak. “What I’m about to tell you may be hard to understand. You may ask why, but I can’t give you a perfect answer. All I can say is: do as I command.”

“What is it that you ask of me, General?” Shao Xinhong asked, brow furrowed at Yu Wenqi’s troubled face.

In all these years, he’d only ever seen Yu Wenqi like this once, when the Su family met disaster. Never before in any other circumstance.

His worry deepened.

“I need you to withdraw all your garrison step by step to the Qingzhou encampment within half a month.”

Yu Wenqi’s words struck Shao Xinhong like a thunderclap. His sector bordered the enemy—should those defenses fall, defeat would be inevitable. The enemy would pour into the heart of the Ming, with catastrophic consequences. Yu Wenqi could not be ignorant of such danger.

Seeing Shao Xinhong’s shock, Yu Wenqi continued, offering no explanation: “Second, you must send men, disguised as enemy soldiers, to spread this information among them three days in advance.”

“Is it to lure the enemy out and annihilate them?” Shao Xinhong asked, as if suddenly enlightened.

But seeing Shao Xinhong’s excitement, Yu Wenqi felt a stab of pain. Shao Xinhong’s parents had died at the hands of these barbarians; he’d joined the army to avenge them. And now Yu Wenqi had to order such a man to commit an act so monstrous, it weighed heavily on him.

“No… we are to suffer a total defeat, but we must ensure our army’s strength is preserved. So we will not defend Jizhou and Bingzhou, but instead withdraw outright.”

“What!?” Shao Xinhong was stunned. Yu Wenqi was no coward, no traitor—how could he give up Jizhou and Bingzhou? What of the people there?

Yu Wenqi’s face was etched with bitterness. He could only wrench Shao Xinhong’s hand away. “Just do as I say. Further words are useless—don’t ask again.”

...

No one knew how long their argument lasted, but the sun, hanging above the treetops, now had set halfway behind the western mountains.

“Xinhong, no more. I know this task is as good as asking you to die, but the Marshal’s dying order binds us both,” Yu Wenqi said, his voice faltering.

Yes—why should so many innocents die for one man’s will?

“Fine. I accept.” Just as Yu Wenqi gave up hope of persuading him, Shao Xinhong abruptly agreed.

He added, “Say no more—I’ll do it. Once it’s done, I’ll resign in disgrace. All I ask is that you spare my men.”

Shao Xinhong gave a wry, self-mocking smile. “But I’ll be guilty of treason, the deaths of countless innocents on my hands—what right would I have to go on living? Just promise me this: redeem Xixuan’s freedom, let her live a peaceful, untroubled life. Then I can rest easy beneath the earth.”

Yu Wenqi nodded heavily.

With his answer, Shao Xinhong returned to camp at once.

As he opened the door, a crow perched on a tree outside cried twice.

Shao Xinhong glanced at it, a bitter smile on his lips. “Father, Mother—only now do I understand why you died by the enemy’s blade. But General Yu gave me a new life; my life is his. Whatever he asks, I will do. Forgive me.”

Yu Wenqi, watching Shao Xinhong’s lonely figure, felt his vision blur with tears.

He ground his teeth and said, “You’ve seen enough, haven’t you?”

From behind the screen, a man slowly emerged: it was Yang Tingyu.

He had been listening all along; indeed, he had orchestrated this very conversation. For the plan to succeed, they needed Shao Xinhong’s help, and as Yu Wenqi’s most loyal subordinate, it was only right that Yu Wenqi should persuade him.

Yu Wenqi, with his back turned, looked out the door as Yang Tingyu spoke: “You must be disappointed in Old Fourth, Second Brother.”

Yu Wenqi’s tears fell as he closed his eyes, hands trembling in fists. “After this, you and I are no longer brothers. The guilt will be mine and Eldest Brother’s to bear. That will settle all debts between us.”

“I always knew this day would come,” Yang Tingyu said, unexpectedly light-hearted, as if relieved of a heavy burden.

He went on, “The day I took the letter to Dao Xuan, I knew I was on a road with no return.”

“Why no return? Let go of old grudges, defend the country, and time will heal all wounds,” Yu Wenqi said. Though he had considered revenge for Su Qing, it was always with the hope of sparing the innocent.

“No, Second Brother, you don’t understand what the Marshal truly intends.” Yang Tingyu met his gaze. “If Hua Wenkai dies, another will take his place. If Qin Chaoyang falls, there will be another. You should know now what the Young Lord’s duty is.”

Yu Wenqi fell silent.

Yang Tingyu smiled and walked past him, looking up at the crow in the tree and murmuring, “Everyone will leave, one by one. But what of it? As long as the Heir has not fulfilled the Marshal’s last wish, I will give my all to help him. Even if I am the only one left, I will see it through to the end.”