Her voice had a slight nasal tone, "Cheng Muyun, you have to take good care of yourself."
He took her hand and pressed it to his chest, where his heart began to race again.
“Okay,” Cheng Muyun’s kiss landed on the top of her head, filled with tenderness and solemnity, “I’ll listen to you.”
The wind picked up again outside the window, making the candlelight crackle.
Cheng Muyun raised his hand to extinguish the candle and pulled Xu Zhuohua into his arms. In the darkness, he could clearly smell the fragrance of her hair and feel the warm breath of the person in his arms.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered in her ear.
Xu Zhuohua snuggled closer to him, her nose touching his collarbone, and finally closed her eyes in peace.
“Cheng Muyun,” Xu Zhuohua’s voice was muffled, as if something was blocking her throat, her fingers gripping his sleeve turning slightly white, “Let’s run away, leave Xinhai City. Like Liang Shaozun, find a substitute to stay here and deal with things, and we’ll fly far away, find a place where no one knows us…”
Cheng Muyun paused his fingertips on the top of her head, then slowly shook his head.
The candlelight illuminated the lines of his jaw, making him appear even more somber than usual: "No, Zhuohua."
His voice was low, but it carried an undeniable firmness: "The hundreds of thousands of brothers of the Dongzhou Army are still in Xinhai City, and my parents are here too. I cannot let them fall into the hands of the government and be at their mercy just because I want to escape, and I cannot let them be subjected to encirclement and suppression for no reason."
Xu Zhuohua fell silent.
Yes, the Dongzhou Army only became independent from the old system because of Cheng Muyun. Now that the government has issued a summons, if the commander-in-chief escapes first, this army will become like headless flies, and will only be accused of being "remnants of the rebel army" and be hunted down to death.
How could she forget that Cheng Muyun carried more than just himself on his shoulders?
"So, are you planning to answer the call?" she asked, looking up, her voice trembling slightly, a tremor she herself didn't even realize.
Answering the call meant stepping into a carefully laid trap, and she dared not think of the consequences.
Cheng Muyun shook his head again, his gaze falling on her tense face, and suddenly softened his tone: "Zhuohua, I haven't asked you yet. Do you think I should answer the call?"
Xu Zhuohua froze, as if something had struck her heart hard.
She subconsciously wanted to avoid this question—as someone who knew part of the historical trajectory, she had always deliberately avoided giving Cheng Muyun "guidance".
She feared that her interference might distort things, and even more so that he might actually follow the path described in history books as "being shot to death."
But now, with his earnest gaze before her, she realized that the so-called "established historical fact" was so pale in the face of a living, breathing person.
The path for the Dongzhou Army is clearly laid out before them: to answer the call, or not to answer the call.
She suddenly remembered those well-worn historical records, which contained very few records about the Dongzhou Army, only a vague sentence: "Cheng Muyun was shot and killed, and the Dongzhou Army fled."
But this doesn't make sense at all—the Dongzhou Army is known for its strict discipline, and its soldiers are extremely loyal to Cheng Muyun. How could they possibly scatter just because their commander is dead?
With over 100,000 troops in uniform, and with Dongzhou already occupied by the Germans, where could they possibly escape to? They were such a large target, they couldn't possibly hide.
A thought suddenly popped into Xu Zhuohua's head, making her heart skip a beat.
It wasn't a rout, it was a relocation.
They collectively went to seek refuge elsewhere.
She suddenly remembered Xiao Wuxin—his first elite army, renowned for its bravery and skill in battle, with soldiers who were all tall and tough, clearly resembling the Dongzhou Army!
I see.
Xu Zhuohua's heavy heart suddenly dissipated, and the coldness at her fingertips also subsided somewhat.
What history doesn't tell us isn't necessarily a tragedy.
Perhaps in the original course of events, Cheng Muyun had already paved the way for his brothers' escape route.
What they need to do now is not to run away, but to help Cheng Muyun survive the inevitable siege.
She looked into Cheng Muyun's eyes, which seemed to hold stars, and suddenly lit up: "History doesn't make it clear, but I think you won't answer the call."
Cheng Muyun paused for a moment, then chuckled softly, reaching out to gently stroke her pert nose. The warmth of his fingertips made her flinch slightly: "You understand me best, Zhuohua."
His smile faded, and a deep worry surfaced in his eyes, yet it also carried a resolute determination to gamble everything. "I really don't want to. You know, this country is rotten to the core in those people's hands. The brothers of the Dongzhou Army have followed me through thick and thin, not to become pawns in others' power struggles. They deserve a better future."
Xu Zhuohua looked into the light in his eyes, then suddenly smiled and reached out to smooth the wrinkles between his brows: "Cheng Muyun, you have done it."
Her voice was soft, but filled with unwavering certainty: "You have found the best way out for everyone in the Dongzhou Army. Everything you have done for this land will be remembered and praised."
Cheng Muyun twirled the rim of his cup with his fingertips, then suddenly chuckled softly, a hint of self-mockery in the fine lines at the corners of his eyes: "When you first met me, I didn't look like a good person at all. Besides, didn't you say that I've been cursed behind my back for a hundred years?"
Xu Zhuohua clenched her fist tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, her voice trembling with urgency: "Those are all lies! I'm going to investigate everything, write down the true history, and clear your name! Cheng Muyun, you are the best person in the world, you should be engraved on a monument of merit, so that everyone knows how good you are!"
Her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, as if a fire burned within them. Cheng Muyun gazed at that fire, but gently shook his head, his voice as faint as the wind outside the window: "You know, Zhuohua, I've never cared about these empty titles."
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