I slaughtered my way through the border at the start, I am the Great Ming's Night Raider!

Chen Yuan's tiger's mouth was split open, but he did not retreat an inch.

He parried with his left sword and thrust with his right, the tip of which pierced through the gap in the captain's armor and went straight to his back.

The commander stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

Chen Yuan drew his sword, and the corpse fell from its horse.

The surrounding Tatar soldiers were stunned and stood frozen in place!

The commander of ten thousand men was a brave warrior in the army, yet he was killed by a Ming soldier in such a life-or-death manner.

In that brief moment of hesitation, Chen Yuan grabbed Chen Jin and mounted the commander's white horse.

"Walk!"

The white horse, magnificent and powerful, broke free of the encirclement with all four hooves off the ground.

The Tatar soldiers wanted to give chase, but Chen Yuan turned around and instantly threw three crossbow bolts, shooting down the three men in the front. The others dared not pursue any further.

The two men and one horse galloped wildly through the burning streets.

Chen Jin glanced back and saw that the East Gate had completely fallen, and more Tatar soldiers were pouring into the city.

Xuanfu has fallen.

"Brother Yuan...where are we going?" he asked in a trembling voice.

Chen Yuan did not answer.

He simply looked ahead, at the burning city, at this hell on earth littered with corpses.

Then, he slowly uttered three words:

"To the capital."

The sound was soft, but cold.

It was as cold as the wind in the twelfth lunar month, as cold as ice in the depths of winter.

It was so cold that Chen Jin shivered.

He knew that from this moment on, Chen Yuan was no longer the night watchman at the border.

He is an avenger who crawled out of hell.

His sword was not only meant to kill Tartars.

We must also exterminate all the demons and monsters in this world.

No matter where they are.

Whoever they are.

The 21st day of the 11th month, night.

The wind and snow were even more intense than in the previous days.

The strong wind whipped up snowflakes that lashed against my face, feeling like countless tiny needles pricking me.

Chen Yuan led the horse, walking along the mountain path with uneven steps.

The horse is Zhang Meng's black horse, and it's carrying the unconscious Chen Jin.

It has been two days and two nights since we escaped from Xuanfu.

After they broke through the east gate that day, they did not head directly south, but instead went west into the Taihang Mountains.

Chen Yuan knew that both the Eastern Depot and the Tatars would set up checkpoints on the official roads heading south. Although traveling by mountain road was difficult, it was safe.

However, safety is relative.

Chen Jin was struck by an arrow during his breakout attempt; it pierced his left scapula. The arrow was a Tatar armor-piercing spike with barbs. When Chen Yuan used a red-hot dagger to dig out the arrowhead, Chen Jin fainted three times from the pain, but didn't utter a sound.

This kid is tougher than I imagined.

"Brother Yuan..." Chen Jin, on horseback, uttered a weak voice.

"Awake?" Chen Yuan didn't turn around, continuing to probe the way. "Don't move, the wound will reopen."

"Where...are we?"

"Zhuolu Mountain, and eighty li further south is Juyong Pass," Chen Yuan said. "But Juyong Pass is inaccessible; there are checkpoints there."

Chen Jin was silent for a moment: "Then how do I get to the capital?"

There's always a way.

Chen Yuan didn't say much.

Actually, he himself didn't know what the solution was.

Juyong Pass is the north gate of the capital. The general in charge, Yang Hong, is a famous general who is extremely strict in disciplining his troops. Without a travel permit, it is impossible to pass through.

He and Chen Jin are now fugitives—no, worse than fugitives, they are "prisoners" whom the Eastern Depot wants to silence.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, reducing visibility to less than ten steps.

Chen Yuan squinted, barely able to make out the mountain path.

He discovered this road three years ago when he was chasing a group of bandits; it leads to an abandoned mountain god temple in a mountain valley.

After walking for another half hour, we finally saw the outline of the temple.

The temple was small, half of the wall had collapsed, and the door panels were nowhere to be found.

But at least it can keep out the wind and snow.

Chen Yuan tied his horse to the crumbling wall and carried Chen Jin inside.

The temple was not much better than the outside; it was drafty and the statues of gods were only half-destroyed.

However, there was some dry grass in the corner, which may have been left by hunters before.

Chen Yuan placed Chen Jin on dry grass and examined his wounds.

The bandage was soaked with blood and needed to be changed.

He took out wound medicine from his horse's baggage—it was a good medicine for treating injuries on the grasslands, which he had searched from the Tatar commander—and also found a clean strip of cloth.

"Bear with it," he said.

Chen Jin gritted her teeth and nodded.

The process of changing the dressing was painful; cold sweat broke out on Chen Jin's forehead, but she remained silent throughout.

After changing the dressing, Chen Yuan fed him some water and a piece of dried meat.

"You eat too," Chen Jin said.

Chen Yuan shook his head, walked to the temple entrance, grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it into his mouth.

The snow melted into ice water in my mouth, chilling me to the bone, but it quenched my thirst.

He grabbed a few more handfuls and rubbed his cheeks—he hadn't slept for two days and needed to perk himself up.

"Brother Yuan," Chen Jin said from behind, "Are Zhang Baihu and the others... all dead?"

Chen Yuan paused for a moment.

"Um."

"The people of Xuanfu..."

"I don't know," Chen Yuan said. "Maybe he escaped, maybe he's dead."

Chen Jin remained silent.

Chen Yuan walked back into the temple and sat down by the fire—he lit a fire with a tinderbox, and the dry grass and twigs he had gathered crackled and popped as they burned.

The firelight illuminated his face, making it half bright and half dark.

"Do you regret it?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Come back to Xuanfu with me," Chen Yuan said. "If we hadn't gone back, you might already be in Jiangnan by now."

Chen Jin thought for a moment and shook her head: "I don't regret it. Even if I go to Jiangnan, I will live with guilt for the rest of my life."

"Guilt?"

"Commander Zhang, Cripple Wang, and those common people..." Chen Jin's voice was low. "If I run away, it's the same as abandoning them. The Chen family can't live like that."

Chen Yuan glanced at him.

This pampered young master, who has lived a life of luxury since childhood, is transforming at an astonishing pace.

Perhaps hatred and suffering really are the best teachers.

"Go to sleep," Chen Yuan said. "I'll keep watch."

"You haven't slept for two days."

"I'm used to it," Chen Yuan said. "It's common for us to stay up for three days and three nights without rest during the night."

Chen Jin wanted to say something more, but due to her injuries and exhaustion, she quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Chen Yuan sat by the fire, wiping his twin swords.

Zhang Meng's sword was exactly the same style as his own, except that Zhang Meng's hilt was wrapped in cowhide, which had been worn smooth and shiny. This old soldier had used this sword for more than ten years, killing countless Tartars and saving countless civilians.

Now, the knife is there, but the person is gone.

Chen Yuan recalled a mission he had carried out with Zhang Meng.

That was three years ago. He had just joined the Night Watchmen and was eighteen years old. Although he was highly skilled in martial arts, he had never been on the battlefield.

During that mission, he encountered Tatar cavalry. He went berserk and chased them for ten miles, almost falling into an ambush.

It was Zhang Meng who led his men to rescue him.

"Kid, war isn't a martial arts contest," Zhang Meng said at the time. "Showing off will get your brothers killed."

He disagreed and retorted, "I killed seven."

"You could have brought back the intelligence without killing a single one of them," Zhang Meng said, pointing to the map. "Look, that scout team was bait; there were two hundred more riders lying in ambush behind them. If I hadn't arrived in time, you would be dead by now."

Later he understood that war is not a one-person affair.

Later, he became Zhang Meng's most capable subordinate.

"Centurion..." Chen Yuan murmured, "You're right, I should have brought the intelligence back, not gone back."

But if he had to do it all over again, he would probably still go back.

Some things, even if you know they are wrong, you still have to do them.

Because they are brothers.