History is not an impenetrable fortress; it is riddled with unseen cracks and holds countless overlooked possibilities.
Those so-called "inevitable" conclusions may just be wishful thinking by later generations.
She was determined to be the one to exploit the loopholes, even if it was just a tiny crack, to pull Cheng Muyun out of the predetermined fate.
As a soul from a century in the future, her awakening did indeed come far too late.
Xiao Wuxin had already raised the banner of resistance, aiming to overthrow the corrupt old order.
Cheng Muyun is wading through the mud, searching for a way to survive for the poor who are struggling at the bottom of society.
Even Chen Hede, standing on what he considers the "public's perspective," pressed on step by step.
Xu Zhuohua's awakening was neither a grand revolution nor a tragic redemption, but rather the courage to finally raise her fist and say to the "historical truth" she had heard since childhood: "I don't believe it."
Knowing it was impossible, she still did it—like a flame burning fiercely in her chest.
This is her awakening, the courage to break free from preconceived notions, and the resolute determination to defy fate.
Xu Zhuohua took a deep breath, lifted her head from Cheng Muyun's embrace, her eyes still wet with tears, yet surprisingly bright.
No matter what dangers lie ahead, whether they are open attacks or hidden arrows, or the backlash of fate, she is prepared.
Even if it means risking everything, even if it means ending up battered and bruised, she will fight to the death.
Because she finally understood that true courage is never about being calm after knowing the outcome, but about being willing to stand against the established world for the sake of the one you love, even knowing that the road ahead is uncertain.
Xu Zhuohua had no idea that the crisis would come so suddenly, catching everyone off guard.
The boat rocked gently as it approached the dock of Xinhai City. A light breeze carrying moisture swept across the turbid river, stirring the flags hanging on the side of the boat and ruffling the stray hairs at Xu Zhuohua's temples.
As the sound of the gangplank being secured subsided, the group slowly stepped off the boat onto the creaking planks. The sound of their heels tapping on the bluestone slabs of the dock echoed crisply, yet could not mask the subtle stagnation in the air.
Cheng Muyun held Xu Zhuohua's hand with one hand and put the other hand in his pocket. As soon as he stepped out of the moss-covered stone archway at the dock, he saw an anxious figure rushing towards him. It was Zhang Qi.
His face was as white as paper, with dark circles under his eyes. His hands clasped nervously in front of him and then opened and closed, and he paced back and forth. His restless appearance made the hearts of the people who had just stepped onto land skip a beat and feel inexplicably panicked.
"Young Marshal!" Zhang Qi's voice trembled uncontrollably. His gaze first fell on Cheng Muyun, then swept over Xu Zhuohua beside him. His pupils contracted slightly, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes. But before he could ask any further questions, he said urgently, "People from Nanjing... have arrived!"
Cheng Muyun frowned, his fingers unconsciously tightening around Xu Zhuohua's hand: "What's wrong with you? Zhang Qi. Tell me slowly."
Zhang Qi swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably, his voice trembling with panic: "It's a special envoy from Nanjing, with a division of troops, stationed at Shilipo outside the city. They said... that the Dongzhou Army must immediately return to their units, or they will be..."
The last few words fell like heavy stones, making the air seem to freeze.
The river breeze still blew, and although it was summer, it carried a bit of a chill, along with the fishy smell from the dock, which hit us in the face.
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