Miss Tao’er couldn’t help feeling worried after hearing this.
So she asked: “Is it very dangerous?”
Tong Zhihuan forced a comforting smile and said: “Don’t worry, Miss Tao’er. It’s nothing serious. I’ll be stationed in the rear, safe from combat.”
He lied once more.
The borderlands were now a total ss, dangerous whether at the front or the rear.
Sothing seed off to Tao’er, but she didn’t press further.
She walked to the peach tree and snapped off a branch.
After trimming it lightly, she shaped it into a small wooden plaque.
“I once heard Moyuan say peach wood brings safety.”
Tao’er handed him the wooden talisman and said: “This is for you.”
Tong Zhihuan froze for a mont before reaching out to accept it.
Staring at the talisman, he fell into a daze.
He tried to smile, but it looked strained: “Truth is, I’m not one for superstitions… but I just want to say this.”
“eting you, Miss Tao’er.”
“Truly, life has been kind to .”
Tao’er also went silent at his words.
At a loss how to respond, she finally murmured: “You fool.”
Just days after returning, Tong Zhihuan set out again.
In the freezing first month, a horse galloped down the imperial road, racing toward the frontier pass.
Tong Zhihuan cast a final glance at the Taoist temple atop the mountain.
He thought he saw Miss Tao’er standing by its gates. Offering a warm smile, he swung his reins.
“Hyah!”
The horse charged ahead, speeding to the border.
Miss Tao’er breathed out slowly. Returning inside, she shut the heavy temple doors completely.
She thought to herself: Surely he’ll be safe.
…
The battle was expected to be fiercely hard.
Yet unexpectedly, a sudden turn changed everything.
Beixiang’s fierce attack ground to a halt, and the thirty thousand troops recently mobilized were recalled.
Scouts later uncovered why:
Beixiang had erupted into civil war!
Taking advantage of the conflict, borderland nobles rebelled. Forty thousand soldiers marched south, directly threatening the King of Beixiang’s capital.
As news spread, righteous armies across Beixiang rose up and joined the rebellion. What began as forty thousand troops swelled to over seventy thousand strong.
This overwhelming support stemd from the king’s cruel rule—crushing taxes and his recent obsession with building the Chuan Palace, leaving people desperate under years of harsh policies.
Seeing Great Jing’s turmoil as their chance, rebels struck while royal forces were thin.
Facing rebellion at ho, the King of Beixiang withdrew the troops he’d sent for the war—except for those he left cooperating with the Northern Desert Tribes against Great Jing. Bound by an earlier pact and unwilling to abandon this prize, he kept part of his army fighting.
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So the war deadlocked.
The Emperor of Great Jing secretly relaxed, then began discussing tactics with his ministers.
But no one expected the Northern Desert Tribes’ fierce attack. They seized the frontier pass in re days.
Though reinforcents hurried to the front, two cities still fell.
Learning of Beixiang’s troubles, the Northern Desert Tribes slowed their assault, switching to harassnt.
Even so, Great Jing struggled under the twin pressures.
This war would drag on for quite so ti.
…
Three years flew by.
War dragged on year after year. Draft numbers kept rising everywhere, yet troops remained in short supply. As if sharing a strategy, the Northern Desert and Beixiang were like a frog slowly boiled alive—slowly draining Great Jing’s strength, only to strike harder at crucial monts.
Seizing this relative peace, Great Jing grew stronger too. By then, most able-bodied n within civic districts had been drafted, preparing for approaching battles.
Youling Civic District lost its lively pulse.
Now the streets teed mostly with the elderly, the weak, won, and children. Fisherfolk along the river grew scarce, with so rotting boats abandoned by the shore.
Zhong Zhengyuan sat at a tea stall and sighed heavily: “How unpredictable the world is…”
He sipped his tea and fell deep into thought.
Soon, he too might need to leave. When war spilled here, this peaceful place would be crushed.
Just as he pondered this—
“Tap.”
A pair of blue-black boots stepped into the stall.
A figure in a blue robe walked straight toward Zhong Zhengyuan and sat down at his table.
Zhong Zhengyuan flinched inwardly. He looked up, startled, then exclaid: “You—”
“Give back my rit!!”
Chen Changsheng blinked, baffled by the sharp rebuke.
“What are you talking about, Master Zhong? What rit do I owe you?”
Zhong Zhengyuan watched him intently: “Do you know how it feels to lose three centuries of rit overnight!?”
Chen Changsheng widened his eyes: “Who could’ve dealt you such a heavy blow?”
Zhong Zhengyuan snapped: “Stop pretending!”
“What has this to do with ?”
Chen Changsheng looked baffled, yet began working a silent divination.
Soon, understanding dawned.
“So that’s it.”
Chen Changsheng smiled at Zhong Zhengyuan: “Master Zhong, you really did suffer sothing you never deserved.”
“You… you…!”
Furious beyond words, Zhong Zhengyuan pointed at him, trembling.
Chen Changsheng lifted the teapot, refilled Zhong Zhengyuan’s cup, and chuckled: “Three centuries of rit must be nothing to you, Master Zhong. Sit down and have more tea.”
Zhong Zhengyuan opened his mouth to argue, but helplessly sat back down.
“Ah…”
He could only resign himself to this loss.
Zhong Zhengyuan knew he stood no chance against the other man. Skilled in the Art of Divination, true, but combat arts were far from this fellow’s level.
Walking here through the district puzzled Chen Changsheng, so he asked: “Why do the streets hold only the elderly, the weak, won, and children?”
Zhong Zhengyuan glared: “Don’t tell you don’t know.”
Taken aback slightly, Chen Changsheng explained: “I spent the last three years in closed-door cultivation, paying no attention to worldly matters.”
Zhong Zhengyuan downed a gulp of tea: “I truly don’t wish to speak with you.”
Chen Changsheng offered a helpless smile: “But it was you who ran those divinations, Master Zhong. How can you bla ?”
Zhong Zhengyuan gave him a pointed look, then said: “The year after you left, the Northern Desert Tribes attacked south with marriage rites as their excuse. Within days, Beixiang to the north seized its chance, sending thirty thousand troops straight toward Great Jing’s frontier pass.”
Chen Changsheng thought at this news: “So fast…”
He’d expected this years later.
Still confused, he asked: “Seems I’ve missed much then.”
“Not truly missed, actually.”
Zhong Zhengyuan continued: “That sa sumr, rebels rose in Beixiang’s heartlands, easing pressure at the Northern Frontier. The Northern Desert Tribes also slowed their advance.”
“Great Jing gained breathing room. Yet Beixiang’s rebellion worsened. Two years later, the King of Beixiang not only lost control, but half his realm fell to rebels.”
“Without that, Great Jing would’ve fallen by now.”
Zhong Zhengyuan sipped his tea, watching Chen Changsheng: “You vanished for three years. Now… these are chaotic tis.”
Chen Changsheng stood stunned by his words.
His hand rested on the teacup, motionless for a long while.
Finally, after several minutes,
Chen Changsheng roused from his trance. Staring into his cup, he murmured:
“Who knew waking after one long sleep could change all things? Like a lifeti had passed in the blink of an eye.”
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