Changfeng's leap almost threw me off.

My eyes can't withstand such light, and now they're practically blind. It will likely take several days to recover. I could only reach out and press his forearm. He said softly, "It's just like the battle between two armies."

No wonder Changfeng was so frightened.

“Then I said you are an auspicious omen.” He seemed to be smiling.

I remained silent, but then I heard what seemed to be the chaotic sounds of the once perfectly orderly Ghost Fang army. Startled so close, my horse had already bolted off into the distance, and I had no idea where it had gone. All around me were the cries of people falling to the ground and the frantic sounds of people trying to rein in their horses.

“Basiljiyu.” He uttered those words coldly, with a strong sense of sarcasm.

If Heaven wishes to destroy you, don't blame me for being heartless and unjust!

Changfeng galloped forward once more, and I could almost hear the sound of his longsword cutting through the night wind. It wasn't the deep, resonant roar of a dragon, but rather a chilling, murderous aura. I dared not imagine what the scene would be like if I could still see.

The one who forced him to compromise and form an alliance, the one who seized the old emperor he had so painstakingly captured, the one who killed his brother, the one who is now like a dog in the water! Ji Mo Dongli has no reason not to kill him. Now, even the emperor's orders are no longer a concern.

emperor!

I jumped when I heard the sound of a sword blade slicing through bone.

Where is the emperor, Fuqi's emperor?

To no avail. The Gui Fang army was completely wiped out, yet even in other provinces, there was no sign of the old emperor.

Even though Ji Mo was no longer under the nominal control of the emperor, his brows were still furrowed when he heard the news, and he no longer felt the exhilaration of pursuing Basiljiyu.

After all, in the eyes of the Southerners, he was still an emperor. Regardless of popular sentiment, they already considered Pingjing their capital. If the old emperor had fallen into the hands of Jimo, they might have been able to seize vast swathes of southern land without bloodshed. Now, however, they received news of his uncertain fate. The Fuqi royal family was restless. Should they establish a new emperor or remain inactive? The crown prince had died for his country, and the emperor was missing. Even if a new emperor were established, who could it be? At this critical juncture, was there anyone in the royal family who hadn't been criticized by the people? If a new emperor came to power while the old emperor was still alive, what would become of them?

Without any news, both Jimo and Nanting were equally anxious.

That day, as the sun was setting, I glanced up and saw his hardened features. His profile remained that of a soldier, with a hint of scholarly air, only now his brows were even more furrowed.

He rarely visits me, and I rarely visit him. We both know our situations, but neither of us is willing to take that step. He is tired, and I am distant.

Yesterday, Mao Tui'er came over and made a fuss, saying he caught a cold and fell ill. He wanted me to go see him, but I didn't go.

He didn't say anything, so I pretended not to know. After all, it wasn't a time of intense fighting or life-or-death situations. Even having some free time to fall ill felt like a luxury back then. Now, taking advantage of the calm after the Ghost Fang's defeat, it would be good to force him to rest in bed for a few days. Unexpectedly, he came today. He's very tall, and as he entered the tent, bending over, he covered his mouth with one hand and coughed. Looking at his trembling shoulders, I suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

Who knows how long it will be before these shoulders bear the weight of the world again.

The Guifang forces were annihilated, and the vast tracts of land north of Biezhou that they had annexed all fell into his hands. Fuqi would not let it go easily. After fighting for so long and plotting for so many years, he would not negotiate peace, and neither would Fuqi's pampered nobles. This war would continue, until one side breathed their last with wide eyes. I don't understand the rules of the battlefield; I just watched them live on the edge of a knife every day, sometimes hungry, sometimes full, fighting for every inch of land, without a single peaceful night's sleep for years. It was exhausting. He didn't say he was tired, but I could see he was utterly exhausted.

"They said that preparations for the coronation ceremony will be made in a few days." His words were neither loud nor soft, as always, without a trace of emotion.

I looked up at his face, and apart from his sickly appearance and exhaustion, there was nothing else.

Indeed, he had already conquered half the country and could no longer be called "General." Before long, he would return to the capital and enter the palace he had visited daily, only this time, he would be its master. Perhaps, in this way, he wouldn't have to personally lead the charge every time.

He sat across from me, propping his elbows on the table and watching me with a leisurely air. Suddenly, he smiled and asked, "If I were to become emperor, would you marry me?"

He had asked this question many times, but this time, he said he wanted to become emperor, as if that would change everything.

Indeed, from a defeated general who colluded with foreign enemies to the "leader" of a secret army in the mountains, and then to a majestic general, he has finally made it to this point. Everyone will know of his existence and be grateful for his existence, as if his very breath is a blessing from the gods to mankind.

Most importantly, he was a general; some people could ignore what he said. He was the emperor; even if what he said was nonsense, everyone in the world had to listen attentively. I knew he wanted to make sure that Fuqi's royal family would also kneel before him, unable to rise from their knees at the slightest joke.

Did Fuchi mistreat him?

Not really. When General Liao passed away, the court showered him with gold, jade, and precious artifacts, and even after his defeat, they didn't punish him. However, this was ultimately to protect their own interests; it wasn't exactly unfair treatment, nor was it particularly generous. Besides, he had already harbored rebellious intentions long before taking office.

Big Guy and his men waited for him in the mountains for five years. Before that, he had spent a great deal of effort to assemble such an army, which looked like nothing more than scattered soldiers, but they were loyal to him to the core.

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