Crowned Consort in Golden Age-Chapter 364 - 363. Becoming angry enough to throw away one’s crown for a lady

Chapter 364: 363. Becoming angry enough to throw away one’s crown for a lady

363. A Rage for a Lady

Seeing the Qilin arrive, Helian Peng, who was seriously injured himself, knew he wouldn’t gain any advantage today. Leaving behind a single word, "Retreat!" he quickly fled from the mountain stream, callously disregarding the fate of the men he had brought. With the Qilin’s timely arrival, it was a simple matter for the assembled warriors to deal with Helian Peng’s remaining forces.

Looking in the direction of Helian Peng’s departure, Qin Feng expressed his regret, "It’s a pity Helian Peng got away."

Lin Han, who followed him, glanced at the dead and injured Beirong men and remarked, "Helian Peng is truly ruthless, sacrificing so many lives so readily. A few days ago, it was dozens; today, over a hundred. He discards them without the slightest remorse. It’s important to understand that these men aren’t ordinary Beirong soldiers; each was specially trained for a long time. Even someone like Helian Peng wouldn’t have an abundance of such experts. This highlights the difference in how Ye Li and Helian Peng treat their subordinates. Since Qilin’s founding several years ago, they’ve lost just over a hundred members in total. Yet, Helian Peng casually loses over a hundred in just one or two engagements. Clearly, he doesn’t consider these men his elite trump cards, or even true subordinates. At best, they’re just high-grade cannon fodder."

Zhuo Jing, having been closest to the action, had naturally seen everything most clearly. He said in a low voice, "Even if we didn’t manage to kill him, Helian Peng probably won’t be able to cause any trouble for the next month or two. Princess Consort, should we send someone to—"

Ye Li shook her head. "Helian Peng’s martial arts are not weak. Even if he’s not as strong as the Prince, he shouldn’t be inferior to Ren Qining. Besides, as a Beirong general, now that he’s injured, he’ll certainly be heavily guarded. There’s no need to send our people to their deaths needlessly. Let’s head to Lingjiu Mountain first."

"Yes, Princess Consort," everyone responded. Some were left behind to clear the battlefield, while the others escorted Ye Li toward Lingjiu Mountain.

Naturally, the news of Ye Li being ambushed by Helian Peng couldn’t be kept from Mo Xiuyao. Although Ye Li wasn’t injured, Mo Xiuyao’s expression was extremely grave. Even Feng Zhiyao and Han Mingxi, usually the most talkative, didn’t dare to speak rashly, lest they provoke Mo Xiuyao and invite trouble. They saw Mo Xiuyao, his face dark, give a soft snort, pick up the Annihilation Sword beside him, and leave the main camp. Feng Zhiyao and the others stared in astonishment. After a long moment, a bewildered Han Mingxi asked, "He... what is he going to do?" 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Feng Zhiyao blinked and said jokingly, "Surely he’s not going to kill Helian Peng, is he?"

Sitting beside Han Mingxi, Han Mingyue nodded. "He is indeed going to kill Helian Peng, and perhaps Yelv Ye and Helian Zhen as well." Although Feng Zhiyao no longer trusted Han Mingyue, he still had some confidence in his abilities and shrewdness. If it weren’t for Su Zuidie, how would Han Mingyue have ended up like this? Hearing Han Mingyue’s words, Feng Zhiyao leaped to his feet, exclaiming, "Is he mad? That’s an army of hundreds of thousands! If he alone could slaughter the entire Beirong army, what’s the point of us even fighting this war?"

There’s a limit to human strength. Even if Mo Xiuyao were the world’s foremost martial artist, capable of fighting ten, or even a hundred men alone, could he possibly take on a thousand, or ten thousand? To think of storming the enemy camp to kill Helian Peng and Yelv Ye... Feng Zhiyao had only two words for such a notion: Suicidal!

After a moment of shock, Feng Zhiyao finally sprang to his feet, rushing out and shouting, "Mo Xiuyao, I must have owed you in my past life! Men! Gather the troops!"

In the main tent, only the brothers Han Mingxi and Han Mingyue remained. Han Mingxi looked at Han Mingyue and asked incredulously, "Elder Brother, does Mo Xiuyao really intend to kill Helian Peng?" Even if he wanted to kill him, there was no need to charge into the Beirong camp. He could just wait for an opportunity when Helian Peng was alone or had left the camp; with Mo Xiuyao’s martial prowess, he could easily kill several Helian Pengs.

Han Mingyue gave a faint, bitter smile. "If you can think of it, how could Prince Ding not have thought of it?"

Han Mingxi was perplexed. "Then why is he doing this?"

"After today, as long as Mo Xiuyao survives, I fear no one in the world will dare to harbor designs on Ye Li again," Han Mingyue sighed. He had once thought his love for Su Zuidie was profound, even secretly believing Mo Xiuyao incapable of deep affection. Only now did he understand: Mo Xiuyao wasn’t unacquainted with love; he simply hadn’t met the right person. Han Mingyue admitted to himself that he could never do for someone what Mo Xiuyao was doing for Ye Li. He patted his somewhat dazed younger brother on the shoulder and walked out.

In the tent, Han Mingxi remained silent for a long time. Finally, a bitter smile touched his lips, and a flicker of understanding, perhaps even relief, crossed his features. What Mo Xiuyao could do, he never could. It wasn’t a question of ability, but of disposition. He could never bring himself to do such a thing for one person, even if he... loved her...

That day was, it could be said, an unforgettable one for all the Beirong officers and soldiers. Of course, assuming they lived long enough to remember it.

As the two armies hadn’t engaged in battle for several days, an unusual tranquility had settled over the Beirong main camp. It was amidst this very calm that the soldiers guarding the camp entrance watched, wide-eyed, as a silver-haired man in snow-white attire drifted in like a solitary cloud. Before they could react to this sudden appearance, they felt a bright flash at their necks. The man’s chilling, crimson eyes were the last thing they saw in this world.

Mo Xiuyao burst into the camp and, before the Beirong soldiers could react, rushed towards the commander’s main tent. His lightness skill was superb; along his path, the sword energy from his Annihilation Sword slew and injured countless men. Even unfortunate souls who merely became his stepping stones were killed by the sheer force of his landing, bleeding from all seven orifices. Instantly, chaos erupted in the camp. Innumerable soldiers surged towards Mo Xiuyao. Those who reacted quickly nocked arrows and shot at him, but how could ordinary arrows possibly strike Mo Xiuyao? Moreover, while he was airborne, it was one thing, but once he landed, it became uncertain whether their arrows would hit Mo Xiuyao or their own men.

For a time, the white-clad figure weaved through the military camp, leaving rivers of blood in his wake. No one survived a strike from the Annihilation Sword; every swing unleashed a torrent of blood. Such terrifying power made even the Beirong soldiers, renowned for their ferocity, feel a chill of dread. They feared that the slightest contact would mean inescapable death.

How could such a great commotion in the camp escape Yelv Ye, seated in the Central Army’s main tent? Yelv Ye was already seething over Helian Peng’s injured return when the sounds of tumult and clashing weapons from outside the camp further fueled his rage. Just then, a panicked soldier rushed in, exclaiming that someone had broken into the camp. Yelv Ye sneered, "This King would like to see who is so audacious as to dare break into the Beirong main camp!" He strode out with Helian Zhen and the freshly bandaged Helian Peng, only to see Mo Xiuyao approaching in white, sword in hand. His formerly subdued, ancient blade now pulsed with an oppressive, bloody light, its killing aura soaring to the heavens.

"Mo Xiuyao!?"

Yelv Ye was both shocked and enraged. For a moment, he couldn’t comprehend why this harbinger of disaster had appeared in the Beirong military camp at such a time. Could it be that Mo Xiuyao suddenly believed that killing him alone would end this entire war?

Anyone with a shred of common sense knew that wars between nations couldn’t be resolved merely by the death of one or two commanders. Besides, assassinating the commander-in-chief of an army was an incredibly difficult feat. Even if Mo Xiuyao managed to kill him, Yelv Ye, how could he possibly guarantee he’d get out alive?

Amidst his slaughter, Mo Xiuyao also spotted Yelv Ye and the two with him. He gave a cold smile, and with a wave of his longsword, swept towards Yelv Ye’s position.

Looking at the sword, which emanated a bloody, cyan light, Yelv Ye’s expression changed slightly. "The Annihilation Sword?!"

Beside him, Helian Zhen’s face had already turned pitch black. For Mo Xiuyao to have charged into the Beirong main camp single-handedly—if he were allowed to escape, the honor of all Beirong would be utterly lost! With a cold snort, Helian Zhen brandished his long saber and lunged towards Mo Xiuyao. Yelv Ye, thinking along the same lines, drew his own blade without hesitation and pounced. Since Mo Xiuyao had delivered himself to them, if they could just keep him here, it would be an immense advantage for Beirong. More importantly, if he could kill Mo Xiuyao... his own position in the Beirong royal court would be unassailable.

"Mo Xiuyao, you are truly audacious, utterly contemptuous!" Yelv Ye said coldly. Seeing the two attack, Mo Xiuyao offered no reply, merely a detached smile. The longsword in his hand cut through the air like a flowing light, unleashing an icy sword aura.

Already injured, Helian Peng stood to one side, observing. The moment Helian Zhen and Yelv Ye clashed with Mo Xiuyao, he knew they had no chance of victory. Mo Xiuyao’s martial skill was simply on a different plane; they weren’t even qualified to be compared to him, let alone compete. He glanced down at the bandage on his arm, his thoughts drifting to the woman in white, her serene beauty reminiscent of the Snow Mountain Saintess. A glint of coldness flashed in Helian Peng’s eyes. He raised a hand, beckoned a nearby attendant, and whispered a few instructions. The attendant nodded and departed.

Watching Helian Zhen and Yelv Ye struggle desperately under his sword, a mocking smile touched Mo Xiuyao’s lips. His gaze shifted to Helian Zhen, and he swung his sword without hesitation, an attack utterly devoid of mercy. The moment Helian Zhen saw the overwhelming energy sweeping towards him, he knew he couldn’t withstand it. But Mo Xiuyao had forsaken Yelv Ye to target him alone; there was nowhere to hide. His only option was to desperately raise his long saber to block Mo Xiuyao’s strike.

CRASH! His finely wrought, hundred-pound steel saber shattered on impact. The Annihilation Sword in Mo Xiuyao’s hand didn’t pause for an instant, continuing its downward chop towards Helian Zhen’s forehead. Helian Zhen, a renowned Beirong general of his generation, defeated by Mo Xiuyao eighteen years prior, had painstakingly regrouped to stage a comeback. Yet now, before achieving a shred of merit, he was about to become another casualty of that very sword. Watching Helian Zhen’s eyes widen abruptly with terror and shock, a cold, bloodthirsty hint of a smile flickered in Mo Xiuyao’s eyes.

"Die!"

CLANG—

Though it seemed to unfold in slow motion, it was all over in the blink of an eye. Another long saber intercepted Mo Xiuyao’s thunderous strike, and Yelv Ye seized the opportunity to drag Helian Zhen aside. Although Helian Zhen had escaped death, everyone present was still reeling from the shock.

Helian Peng was seen clutching a large broadsword that emanated a faint golden glow. However, the blade was now broken in two. The hand gripping the hilt trembled uncontrollably, and even the previously bandaged wound on his other arm had split open afresh. Evidently, in his desperate block to save Helian Zhen, the surging internal energy coursing through his body had torn his wound apart.

Mo Xiuyao lowered his gaze, looking indifferently at the Annihilation Sword in his hand. After a good while, he looked up at Helian Peng. "Impressive skill. A disciple of Murong Xiong?" If Helian Peng hadn’t revealed his techniques, Ye Li might not have discerned his origins. But Mo Xiuyao, merely from that single exchange, had clearly seen through Helian Peng’s martial arts style. He sneered, "It seems killing Murong Xiong back then wasn’t a wrongful act after all."

Helian Peng clearly wasn’t very interested in the fact that Mo Xiuyao was his master’s killer. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his broken saber and said in a somber voice, "My skills are no match for yours, Prince Ding. May I ask what Prince Ding intends by this today?"

"What do I mean?" Mo Xiuyao regarded him with a strange smile. "Don’t you all know what this King means?"

Yelv Ye released his hold on Helian Zhen and stepped beside Helian Peng, his voice grave. "Mo Xiuyao, don’t think this King is afraid of you just because your martial arts are formidable! This King refuses to believe that you alone can do anything to me amidst this vast army of tens of thousands!"

Mo Xiuyao sneered. "If you don’t know, then this King will tell you: anyone who dares to harbor designs on Ah-Li, all of you will die!" The Annihilation Sword radiated a dangerous light. With a casual wave from Mo Xiuyao, the banners erected in the nearby camp toppled to the ground.

A muscle near Helian Peng’s eye twitched. He casually wiped a trace of blood from the corner of his lips and sneered, "This humble one would like to witness just how formidable Prince Ding truly is!" With a wave of his hand, countless figures in black poured out from every corner of the camp, rushing towards Mo Xiuyao. These men were personally trained by Helian Peng, their skills not far removed from those of the Qilin. The Beirong people were inherently bloodthirsty; the river of gore Mo Xiuyao had created throughout the camp only further stoked the murderous rage in their hearts. One by one, they charged towards Mo Xiuyao without hesitation, truly fierce and unafraid of death.

Mo Xiuyao let out a long cry, his white figure transforming into a streak of white light as he shot towards the dark-clad assailants. Wherever he passed, blood erupted, and severed limbs flew in countless numbers.

Although the Yazi the monster temporarily managed to bog down Mo Xiuyao, the expressions of Yelv Ye, Helian Zhen, and the others watching from the sidelines grew even grimmer. Helian Zhen, already weakened by blood loss, had just suffered internal injuries from Mo Xiuyao’s earlier strike; his face was ashen, and his eyes were filled with an ominous gloom.

While Helian Peng didn’t cherish these specially trained subordinates as Ye Li did hers, they were, after all, different from ordinary soldiers. Even Helian Peng possessed little more than a thousand such men. Previously, though he had lost over a hundred to Ye Li, he had at least managed to glean some information about her capabilities. But now, in the blink of an eye, nearly a hundred more had fallen to Mo Xiuyao. How could Helian Peng’s expression not turn ugly?

Helian Zhen said with a cold face, "No matter what, we cannot let Mo Xiuyao leave here today!"

The threat Mo Xiuyao posed was simply too immense. If, eighteen years ago, facing a younger Mo Xiuyao, he had attributed his defeat to mere carelessness and harbored resentment, today’s encounter had utterly shattered those long-held notions. The Mo Xiuyao of today was definitely not someone he could contend with. That brush with death just moments ago, a feeling of mortality separated by a mere hair’s breadth, was something he hadn’t experienced even eighteen years prior. Since he couldn’t defeat Mo Xiuyao, then he had to be killed, by any means necessary!

The Beirong soldiers watching from the sidelines were also deeply terrified by the gory spectacle. This scene was, in fact, more shocking than an actual battlefield. On a battlefield, everyone fought for their lives, and no matter how horrific the surrounding carnage, no one had the capacity to dwell on it. But here, they were witnessing what could only be described as a one-sided slaughter. Those black-clad figures, who normally seemed so formidable to ordinary soldiers, were as helpless as clay figurines before the white-robed, silver-haired man. Snowflakes drifted down, dusting Mo Xiuyao’s snow-white robes, adding another layer of killing intent to his cold, bloodthirsty, handsome features. He looked like a blood-drenched Asura emerged from the depths of hell.

"AAARGH... Kill this demon!" Finally, one soldier’s mind snapped. Heedless of the consequences, he raised his weapon and charged at the blood-soaked white figure. Alas, before he could even touch the hem of Mo Xiuyao’s robe, he was sliced in two by an oncoming wave of sword energy.

"Archers, fire!" Yelv Ye commanded in a low, harsh voice. These black-robed Yazi might be able to stall Mo Xiuyao, perhaps even deplete his internal energy and ultimately kill him. But that was assuming Mo Xiuyao didn’t want to escape. More crucially, even if Mo Xiuyao chose not to flee, no one knew just how many Yazi lives it would take to exhaust his internal energy and physical stamina. Two thousand? Three thousand? They didn’t have that many. He feared that once the last of the black-clad warriors fell, it would be their turn to test the edge of the Annihilation Sword.

In an instant, arrows rained down like a sudden deluge. Though aimed at Mo Xiuyao, many of the black-clad warriors were too close to him. Moreover, Mo Xiuyao’s figure was elusive, rendering the volley largely indiscriminate. Mo Xiuyao sneered, snatched up one of the black-clad men, and tossed him aside; the man was instantly riddled with arrows, resembling a porcupine. Mo Xiuyao then whirled, a wave of sword energy lashing out from his longsword. The arrows flying towards him from a distance seemed to hit an invisible barrier, suddenly reversing course and shooting back towards their archers.

"Yelv Ye, you’re seeking death!" Mo Xiuyao said in a deep voice.

"Protect the Seventh Prince!" The men cried out in alarm. Dozens threw themselves in front of Yelv Ye, barely managing to block Mo Xiuyao’s furious strike. Of those who had intercepted the blow, only three or four remained standing to protect Yelv Ye. Fortunately, Mo Xiuyao’s attention was quickly diverted by arrows assailing him from behind; otherwise, Yelv Ye’s life would truly have been in peril. Though he had narrowly escaped death, Yelv Ye’s face was ashen. He glanced at Helian Zhen, who had similarly just cheated death, and a wan, bitter smile touched his lips. He no longer dared to issue commands recklessly.

"Mo Xiuyao’s martial skill... just how profound is it?" Watching the white-robed, silver-haired man, Yelv Ye couldn’t help but murmur to himself.

Clutching his bleeding wound, Helian Peng leaned against the entrance of the main tent. The incessant bleeding not only paled his face but also made him feel faintly dizzy. "The Mo Xiuyao of today... I’m afraid he can already be called the world’s number one. Over two years ago, to kill my master, he needed to join forces with Lei Zhenting and Ling Tiehan. If it were now... I fear even my master at his peak might not have been his opponent." There are individuals known as geniuses, who seem to bypass the need for grueling practice or harsh refinement, innately destined to stand taller than others. Such prodigies, even the heavens would feel a pang of jealousy towards. And Mo Xiuyao, evidently, was one of them.

Just as the entire Beirong camp was gripped by terror from Mo Xiuyao’s onslaught, a new clamor arose from outside the main gate.

Two figures, one in red and one in white, were seen sweeping in from outside, like two swift shadows darting towards Mo Xiuyao.

"Mo Xiuyao!" Feng Zhiyao’s voice was fraught with exasperation. Fortunately, he called out first; otherwise, he likely would have suffered a couple of sword strikes just like those wretched Beirong men in black being mercilessly cut down by Mo Xiuyao.

Mo Xiuyao stayed his sword, casting a displeased glance at Feng Zhiyao and Han Mingyue who had just landed before him. "Who asked you to meddle?" Han Mingyue merely smiled and remained silent. He had only accompanied Feng Zhiyao to help and knew Mo Xiuyao wouldn’t be grateful for his presence, so he opted to say nothing more.

Feng Zhiyao was so furious he was practically apoplectic. He grabbed Mo Xiuyao. "Aren’t you leaving? Do you want to die here?!" Normally, Feng Zhiyao would never have been able to lay a hand on Mo Xiuyao. However, after his murderous rampage, much of Mo Xiuyao’s rage and ferocity had dissipated, and a subtle weariness had set in. Even if he was the world’s foremost martial artist, having slain several hundred Beirong experts today, he had naturally expended considerable energy. His plan had merely been to vent his anger on the Beirong forces and deliver a stark warning; he had no intention of throwing his life away. Even if Feng Zhiyao and Han Mingyue hadn’t come, he would have left on his own soon enough.

Being pulled by Feng Zhiyao, he no longer lingered. He contemptuously glanced at Yelv Ye and said, "Let’s go."

Taking the lead, he employed his lightness skill and sped towards the camp’s main gate.

"Mo Xiuyao?!" Yelv Ye, incensed by the disdainful look, roared in fury, "Kill them!"

Han Mingyue, bringing up the rear, sighed helplessly. With a sweep of his sword, he deflected an oncoming arrow, then leaped up and flew outwards as well.

Feng Zhiyao, daring enough to charge into the Beirong main camp with Han Mingyue, naturally hadn’t come unprepared. Even after exiting the main camp, the Beirong army relentlessly pursued them. However, after a chase of only a mile or so, they saw the Mo Family Army’s Black Cloud Cavalry ahead, waiting in stern formation. Mo Xiuyao and his two companions rejoined the Mo Family Army ranks and turned to face the pursuing Beirong forces, the two armies now at a standoff.

"Mo Xiuyao, one day, this King will ensure you die a gruesome death!" Yelv Ye roared, glaring at Mo Xiuyao opposite him, mounted and in blood-stained white attire. Mo Xiuyao gave a light snort, pointed his longsword at Yelv Ye, and retorted with a cold smile, "Those are precisely the words this King wishes to say to you. Today is merely a lesson for the likes of you. If there is a next time, this King will personally take your dog’s life! Return to camp!"

Watching Mo Xiuyao depart leisurely under the escort of the Mo Family Army, Yelv Ye’s face turned a livid, ashen color. "Return!"

When Yelv Ye and his retinue returned to the camp, they assessed the damage from Mo Xiuyao’s rampage. Over two hundred ordinary soldiers in the Beirong camp were dead or injured. The losses among the Yazi the monster, specially trained by Helian Zhen and Helian Peng, were even higher, numbering four to five hundred. The Annihilation Sword cut through iron as if it were mud; it wasn’t just direct hits that were fatal—even a glancing blow from its sword energy would leave a man grievously wounded and half-dead. Those injured were little different from the dead, as they would never be fit for battle again. Yet, this was not the worst of it. After all, compared to an army numbering in the millions, the loss of a few hundred men was almost negligible. The most severe consequence was the psychological scar this slaughter had inflicted upon the Beirong soldiers. Prince Ding, all by himself, had rampaged through their camp of hundreds of thousands, leaving rivers of blood, utterly unstoppable. This caused the Beirong soldiers, already wary of the Mo Family Army’s reputation, to develop an even more profound terror for the name of Prince Ding.

"Seventh Prince." Inside the main tent, Helian Peng knelt. His recent severe injuries, coupled with the lack of proper rest, had left his usually resolute face looking haggard and weak. Yelv Ye stared at him coldly. "What do you have to say?" Today’s events, when all was said and done, were caused by Helian Peng going after Ye Li. Yelv Ye had disapproved of Helian Peng’s actions from the start—not because he didn’t want to deal with Ye Li, but because as Princess Consort Ding, Ye Li would undoubtedly be surrounded by countless experts, making the probability of success exceedingly low. Moreover, the grim fates of those who had previously targeted Ye Li served as a stark reminder.

And indeed, Helian Peng’s plan had failed, instead provoking Mo Xiuyao’s insane retaliation. This time, their loss wasn’t just a few hundred soldiers’ lives, but the morale of the entire Beirong army. Such damage, he feared, couldn’t be repaired without several stunning major victories.

Helian Peng remained silent, then bowed his head. "This humble general has nothing to say. Please, Your Highness, mete out my punishment."

Yelv Ye stared at Helian Peng for a long moment, then sighed. "Forget it. You’re also severely injured. Rise. Focus on recuperating, and we will settle accounts later." Although Yelv Ye was extremely displeased by the trouble Helian Peng had caused, he wouldn’t do something as self-sabotaging as cutting off his own arm at a time like this. He waved a hand, gesturing for Helian Peng to get up. Helian Peng expressed his thanks for the clemency and rose.

Yelv Ye looked at Helian Zhen, who was sitting to one side, and asked, "Uncle, what are your thoughts?"

Since their return, Helian Zhen had been silent. Only when Yelv Ye addressed him did he sigh and say, "I never expected Mo Xiuyao to change so astonishingly in just a dozen years. Your Highness, if this man is not eliminated, he will undoubtedly become a grave internal threat to our Beirong."

Yelv Ye frowned. "Uncle, you speak truly. However, countless people in this world have wanted to eliminate Mo Xiuyao. Who has ever succeeded? The Mo Xiuyao of today is not the Mo Xiuyao of old." Back then, Prince Ding’s Mansion was still constrained by the Great Chu imperial family, which gave us an opening to exploit, allowing us to deal Prince Ding’s Mansion a fatal blow. Unfortunately, the great serpent was not slain, and Mo Xiuyao was allowed to grow into Beirong’s greatest enemy. Now, Prince Ding’s Mansion has long since broken free from Great Chu; Mo Xiuyao alone calls the shots. What’s more, with everyone in Prince Ding’s Mansion united in purpose, they are virtually unassailable.

Helian Zhen lowered his gaze. "From what we’ve seen today, Prince Ding’s only weakness is Princess Consort Ding."

"Uncle! Absolutely not!" Yelv Ye said sternly.

Helian Zhen was taken aback, looking at Yelv Ye in confusion. Yelv Ye gave a helpless, bitter smile. "Uncle, haven’t you understood what happened today? From now on, don’t harbor any more designs on Ye Li. Unless Mo Xiuyao is dead, no one is to touch Ye Li again." Mo Xiuyao’s actions today were a clear message to everyone: whoever dared to harm Ye Li, he would hunt them down and kill them, even if it cost him his own life. Fortunately, today’s incident served as a warning. If Mo Xiuyao had truly been determined to kill them today, then even if he ultimately died of exhaustion, it’s likely none of the three of them—Yelv Ye, Helian Zhen, or Helian Peng—would have escaped alive.

Those in power always talk about achieving their goals ’at any cost,’ but that ’any cost’ never includes themselves. If their own lives were forfeit, what would be the point of killing Mo Xiuyao? What good would destroying Prince Ding’s Mansion do? Wouldn’t others simply reap the benefits?

Helian Zhen pondered for a long time before finally sighing. "I never expected Prince Ding’s Mansion to produce such a man of deep affections."

Helian Peng rose to his feet and said to Yelv Ye, "Your Highness, this humble general requests to be assigned to the Lingjiu Mountain camp."

Yelv Ye frowned. "You still want to go after Ye Li?"

Helian Peng replied, "This humble general will not make a move against Princess Consort Ding again. However, with Princess Consort Ding now overseeing the Lingjiu Mountain camp, our forces there also require someone in command. Princess Consort Ding is resourceful and astute; I fear the current commander there is..."

After a moment’s thought, Yelv Ye nodded. "Very well. Go once your injuries have healed. Do not provoke Ye Li again," he couldn’t help but add as a final warning.

Helian Peng nodded. "This humble general understands. My injuries are not severe; I can depart tomorrow."

"You may go," Yelv Ye waved his hand, saying no more.

In the Mo Family Army camp, Third Young Master Feng cut an imposing figure, his handsome face flushed with rage as he glared at a certain someone in the main seat who was leisurely bandaging his own wounds. The words spewing from his lips were so scathing that an ordinary person, upon hearing them, would have been shamed into slitting their own throat just to find release.

However, the Prince of Ding Kingdom, fresh from his bout of slaughter, was clearly in high spirits and paid no heed whatsoever to Third Young Master Feng’s furious tirade. He didn’t ask for help, simply grabbing a nearby cloth bandage and casually wrapping the wound on his arm, bothering little with any other minor injuries.

"Third Feng, when did you turn into such an old woman? All this nagging, aren’t you tired of it?" Only after tending to his wound did Mo Xiuyao deign to glance indifferently at Third Young Master Feng and speak.

Third Young Master Feng choked, his fury boiling over. He roared, "Mo Xiuyao, if you’re so damned set on dying, don’t drag the entire Prince Ding’s Mansion down with you! Charging into the Beirong camp alone! You, Prince Ding, the world’s greatest martial artist, so incredible—why don’t you just go kill Yelv Ye, the King of Beirong, Lei Zhenting, and Mo Jingli too?! If they all die, the world will be at peace. And of course, when you’re done, don’t forget to put a sword to your own throat!" Reaching this point, Third Young Master Feng’s extreme anger turned into a laugh, a malicious, mocking smile directed at Mo Xiuyao.

"Noisy," Mo Xiuyao said indifferently.

Feng Zhiyao was choked with anger. He snatched the nearest object and hurled it at Mo Xiuyao, then slammed his hand on the table and started to storm out. "If you want to die so badly, then go die! This old man is done!" With that, he furiously stalked out. Fortunately, only the Han brothers, Mingyue and Mingxi, were in the tent. Had the Mo Family Army’s generals witnessed this, Feng Zhiyao would undoubtedly have faced charges of insubordination.

Mo Xiuyao frowned slightly, effortlessly catching the object Feng Zhiyao had thrown. "Stop. Where are you going?"

"I’m going to Lingjiu Mountain!"

"Dare to go looking for Ah-Li, and this King will break your legs," Mo Xiuyao said sinisterly. "Alright, this King is well aware of today’s situation. It was merely to teach Yelv Ye a lesson. I won’t do this again. You’re all tired; go back and rest." With that, Prince Ding waved his hand, turned, and gracefully exited the main tent, leaving a deeply stricken Feng Zhiyao sitting there in a stupor. It took a long moment for Feng Zhiyao to react. "Mo Xiuyao! I saved your life, and you threaten to break my legs?!" Talk about choosing women over brotherhood! This is the perfect example! Want to see someone stab their brother in the back for their wife? Just look at Prince Ding!

Han Mingyue and Han Mingxi exchanged a glance, sympathetically patted Feng Zhiyao’s shoulder, and also departed.

Thanks to His Highness Prince Ding’s strict, almost threatening orders, word of what had transpired in the Mo Family Army main camp naturally did not reach Ye Li’s ears. Ye Li, along with Qin Feng and the others, arrived at the Lingjiu Mountain camp that same evening. As Lingjiu Mountain was not the main battlefield and had Feihong Pass as its primary support, Prince Ding’s Mansion, already lean on troops, naturally wouldn’t station too many forces there. Only Vice General Zhou Min, formerly under Zhang Qilan’s command, was stationed there, leading 50,000 Mo Family Army soldiers along with 50,000 former Great Chu troops.

As Ye Li’s party arrived without prior notice, naturally, no one came out to greet them. However, the scene on the outskirts of the main camp made Ye Li frown deeply. It was already late at night; ordinarily, the Mo Family Army soldiers, aside from those on patrol, should have long been asleep. Yet, even before Ye Li and her group neared the camp, they could hear an uproar from within. This wasn’t the clamor of an emergency, but rather the sounds of soldiers drinking and reveling. Ye Li’s fair, elegant expression immediately darkened.

Zhuo Jing and the others, having come from the secret guards, had little experience with military camps. Qin Feng, originally from the Black Cloud Cavalry where discipline was even stricter than the regular Mo Family Army, had also never witnessed such a scene. Their expressions all turned somewhat grim. It was Yun Ting and Chen Yun, both having served in the army before, who were less surprised. Yun Ting cleared his throat softly and said in a low voice, "Princess Consort, these are likely not Mo Family Army soldiers, but the former Great Chu troops we’ve gathered from various places after retaking lost territories." Yun Ting had served in the Great Chu army. Although Murong Shen could be considered strict with military discipline, there were always those who feigned compliance while acting otherwise. He had even heard of many cases where discipline was appallingly lax. These Great Chu troops had been utterly routed by Beirong; if the Mo Family Army hadn’t taken them in, they would have been little different from roving bandits. That such a situation would occur was not at all surprising to Yun Ting.

Ye Li quickly grasped the key to the situation as well. The Lingjiu Mountain camp comprised both Mo Family Army and former Great Chu troops, kept somewhat separate. These remnants of Great Chu were naturally inferior to the Mo Family Army in combat strength and all other aspects. It was likely some had adopted a ’broken pot, smash it further’ attitude of recklessness. Zhou Min himself had only recently been given independent command; it was probably difficult for him to manage them effectively.

Suppressing the anger in her heart, Ye Li said coolly, "Let’s go in and take a look."

Seeing them appear at the main gate, the guards, who had been engrossed in a drinking game, finally remembered their duty. They scrambled to their feet and sternly demanded, "Who goes there?"

Ye Li asked in a somber tone, "Where is General Zhou?"

One of the guards, noticing a young and beautiful woman among the arrivals, couldn’t help but feel a flicker of contempt. He waved his hand dismissively. "This is a military encampment, a restricted area! Is it a place for a woman like you to be asking questions? Be off with you, quickly!"

"Insolence!" Qin Feng’s voice was deep and stern. "Princess Consort Ding has arrived! Why haven’t you summoned General Zhou to greet her at once?"

The guards were momentarily stunned. They sized up Ye Li and her companions, then burst into loud laughter. "You say she’s Princess Consort Ding? A frail slip of a girl daring to impersonate Princess Consort Ding? Such audacity! I’d say you’re Beirong spies!" It had to be said, while Princess Consort Ding’s reputation was formidable, not many had actually seen her in person. Furthermore, Ye Li’s appearance was quite deceptive; under the night sky, she truly did resemble a delicate young lady from a sheltered, prestigious family.

"If she’s Princess Consort Ding, then wouldn’t I be Prince Ding?" one of the guards jeered smugly.

"Audacious!" Qin Feng’s expression turned thunderous. Before the other guards could even clearly see how he moved, the one who had just spoken was snatched up by Qin Feng, fiercely slammed against the nearby camp gate, and instantly coughed up a mouthful of blood. The terrified man looked up to see a gleaming sword pressed against his throat. Qin Feng sneered, "Quite bold, aren’t you? Do you no longer wish to live?"

The others were terrified by this sudden development and immediately cried out in alarm, completely forgetting to sound the signals for an enemy attack or beat the war drums. This made Ye Li and her companions frown even more deeply.

Soon, the camp grew even more tumultuous. Many soldiers rushed over, all looking disheveled and unprepared. Seeing that it wasn’t enemy forces at the gate, but rather a few individuals of striking appearance, both men and women, they were mostly stunned, unsure how to react. This continued until a man who looked like an officer, reeking of alcohol, swaggered over. The gate guards then hurried to report, "General, these people are impersonating Princess Consort Ding and trying to force their way into the camp..."

"Wha-what? How dare..." The officer was about to fly into a rage when a dark jade token was presented before his eyes. Zhuo Jing said coldly, "Do you see it clearly?"

The officer’s eyes suddenly widened. Staring at the imposing ’Ding’ character on the black jade token before him, his legs involuntarily went soft. "Prin... Princess Consort Ding?"

Ye Li stepped forward, looking at him indifferently. "Who are you? State your name and rank clearly. Where is General Zhou?"

The officer stammered, "This... this humble general was formerly the Garrison Commander of Luozhou City in Great Chu, Sun Yaowu. Zhou Min... General Zhou’s main camp is still about ten li from here." It turned out that ever since Zhou Min and this Sun Yaowu had been ordered to garrison this area together, the Mo Family Army and these Great Chu remnants had constantly been at odds. These remnant troops had been so thoroughly thrashed by the Beirong forces that they were practically useless on the battlefield. If not for the concern that they might scatter and cause trouble for the common folk, they would likely have been demobilized and sent home long ago.

Zhou Min had only recently been given independent command, and his authority was insufficient. The Mo Family Army, with its strict discipline, was manageable, but he found himself unable to control these Great Chu remnants. Helpless, Zhou Min no longer expected anything from them, simply ordering them to camp ten li behind the front lines, while he himself, with 50,000 Mo Family Army soldiers, guarded the front against the Beirong forces. Because of its proximity to Feihong Pass, where Yuan Pei was stationed with over 200,000 troops, the situation wasn’t overly dire.

Such a state of affairs angered even Ye Li considerably. Had she not insisted on coming to Lingjiu Mountain, this place might well have been the first to cause problems when future campaigns began.

"This humble general was unaware of Your Highness’s arrival and failed to greet you from afar; please forgive me, Your Highness. Please, Your Highness, come into the camp to rest for a while. This humble general will immediately send someone to fetch General Zhou," Sun Yaowu said. How Sun Yaowu fared in battle was unknown, but his knack for fawning over superiors was certainly well-honed. Ye Li, displeased, was about to refuse and head directly to Zhou Min’s camp when the sound of orderly hoofbeats approached from the distance. In less than a moment, a middle-aged man leading a group galloped up, dismounted smartly at the gate, strode before Ye Li, swept aside his battle cloak, and knelt on one knee. "This humble general, Zhou Min, greets Your Highness, the Princess Consort."