A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

One hundred li outside Hangu Pass.

After a two-week forced march, the vanguard of the 280,000-strong army had already set up camp, while the rear guard was still arriving in succession.

Wei Zhao stood in the central command tent, his finger pointing to the location of Hangu Pass on the map.

Liu Jingshuang sat on the left, a knife across her lap, her eyes closed as she rested.

Su Qingyun was using an abacus on the right, while Shang Wanqing was squatting in the corner fiddling with a disassembled crossbow gear.

Hua Jieyu leaned against the tent pillar, holding a love letter note that had just been delivered in her hand.

"Zhao Qing is still holding on." Hua Jieyu handed over the note.

"We can hold on for another ten days at most."

Wei Zhao took it, glanced at it, and was about to speak—

The curtain was lifted from the outside.

One of the guards leaned half his body in.

"Young Marshal, someone has arrived outside. They say they came all the way from the capital."

"Who?"

"His name is Xie Daoning."

Hua Jieyu's body, leaning against the tent pillar, suddenly stiffened.

The curtain was lifted, and a young woman walked in.

She looked to be seventeen or eighteen years old, with exceptionally delicate features, arched eyebrows, a straight nose, long and thick eyelashes, and skin so fair it was almost translucent.

He was a handsome young man, but his lips were chapped and peeling, his cheeks were sunken, his gray outfit was covered in dust and sweat, and his hair was tied up haphazardly with a strip of cloth.

A long cloth bag is slung across his shoulder.

Wei Zhao glanced at it, but didn't recognize it.

Hua Jieyu has already gone to greet her.

"Xiao Ning?"

"Weren't you staying in the capital? Why did you suddenly come?"

It paused for a moment.

"Could it be the old matriarch..."

The second half of the sentence got stuck in my throat.

Because Xie Daoning had already reached behind him and untied the long cloth bag.

The cloth bag is opened.

A dove-shaped staff.

The staff was polished to a shine, the color of the bronze dove had faded considerably, and the handle had developed a thick patina from years of sweat.

Wei Zhao recognized him.

The old lady used this thing for twenty years, carrying it with her wherever she went, even placing it within easy reach of her bedside when she slept.

Xie Daoning picked up the dove-shaped staff with both hands, walked to Wei Zhao, and solemnly placed it on the table.

The bronze staff struck the wooden table with a dull thud.

Everyone inside the tent stopped moving.

Xie Daoning took a step back, bent his knees, and knelt on the ground.

"Young Marshal."

Her voice cracked, every word rasped.

"The old lady...is gone."

clang.

The long sword on Liu Jingshuang's lap fell to the ground.

The abacus beads in Su Qingyun's hand hung in mid-air for two breaths before snapping back.

The gear slipped from Shang Wanqing's hand and rolled halfway across the muddy ground.

Nie Yinniang leaned against the corner of the tent, her whole body tense, her right hand pressing tightly against the tent pillar.

The hand was still wrapped in bandages, and a trace of red seeped through the gaps.

Wei Zhao's hand was still on the map.

Didn't move.

"How did you get there?"

The three words were squeezed out from between his teeth.

Xie Daoning knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He gritted his teeth and took a couple of breaths before speaking.

"After the great victory at Jianmen Pass, the old lady had a coffin—made of Phoebe zhennan wood—sent to Lu Song's residence."

"Lu Song went to the palace to file a complaint, and His Majesty issued an oral edict summoning the Dowager Empress to the palace to receive punishment and apologize."

No one made a sound from inside the tent.

Hua Jieyu suddenly took over the conversation.

Her undercover agents were faster than Xie Daoning's horses; some fragmented information had reached her several days earlier, but she couldn't piece it all together.

Now, it's all in one go.

"The old matriarch entered the palace carrying the dragon-headed scepter bestowed by the late emperor."

Hua Jieyu usually speaks with a hint of laziness and a touch of coquetry.

Not a single cent at this moment.

It's so dry it hurts my throat.

"She didn't kneel after entering the main hall."

"He slammed the dragon-headed scepter to the ground and, in front of the entire court, denounced His Majesty for three major crimes."

"First, Your Majesty is incompetent. Surrounded by five ethnic groups and invaded by foreign enemies, Your Majesty does not think about defending against the enemy. Instead, he allows treacherous ministers to seize power and cut back on the front-line supplies and pay. The 60,000 soldiers at Hangu Pass have nowhere to turn for help."

"Secondly, he was lazy in governing. He left important matters of the court to Lu Song to decide alone. Eighteen urgent reports were piled up and not approved. Officials were incompetent and idle. The country was on the verge of collapse."

"third--"

Hua Jieyu paused for a moment.

"Incompetent! The nine sons of the Wei family died in battle for the country. Their loyal bones could not bring about a peaceful world. His Majesty does not remember their merits, but instead forces my mother to come to the palace to apologize."

"The people are disheartened, and the nation is disgraced!"

The air inside the tent was frozen.

Liu Jingshuang bent down to pick up the long knife. Her hand trembled slightly.

It only shook once, then it stabilized.

Hua Jieyu's voice became even hoarseer.

After rebuking him for his three sins, the old lady raised her dragon-headed scepter and struck Lu Song on the head.

"His head was bleeding profusely on the spot."

Su Qingyun slammed the abacus onto the table with a "smack".

This woman, who always wears a smile, now has nothing on her face; it's empty.

The abacus frame had a crack.

"His Majesty was furious and wanted to punish the Dowager Lady."

Hua Jieyu's chest heaved slightly, then subsided.

"The old lady did not want to be humiliated."

He committed suicide on the spot.

The last three words landed.

There was a very faint sound inside the tent.

Nie Yinniang's back brushed against the tent pillar.

She didn't make a sound, her cheeks were taut, her teeth were grinding together, and her bandaged right hand pressed a deep mark into the tent post.

Xie Daoning knelt on the ground, finally unable to hold on any longer, and collapsed to the ground, howling.

"Lu Song—Lu Song even wants to have the old lady's body torn apart by chariots!"

"His Majesty did not agree."

"But the old lady is not allowed to be buried in the Wei family ancestral graveyard."

"The body was left at the Wei residence for three days, and no one was allowed to collect it."

Shang Wanqing remained squatting on the ground without moving.

Don't cry, don't speak.

Clutching the gear that had rolled to his feet, his fingernails dug into the edge of the metal sheet.

She had a cut on her finger, but she didn't wipe it away. The blood dripped down the grooves of the gears and fell into the mud.

There was something hard and stuffy in my chest, so hard that my heartbeat slowed down.

"Later... it was the people of the capital who spontaneously organized tens of thousands of people to see the old lady off along the way."

"The coffin was transported from the Wei residence all the way to Shili Pavilion outside the capital. The people themselves pooled their money to buy it."

"The people say—"

"Bury him at Shiliting, so that the old lady can be the first to see the Wei family army return."

"Come...cleanse this filthy court."

No one answered from inside the tent.

Wei Zhao stood still the whole time.

His hand remained on the map, his posture unchanged.

His breathing was steady, his shoulders didn't shake, his back wasn't bent, and his head never lowered.

But no one in the tent dared to look at his face.

Because his eyes were red and swollen.

It wasn't the kind of red that slowly rises to the surface; it was a sudden surge of blood, burning from the corner of the eye to the outer corner, even turning the sides of the nose a deep crimson.

I didn't shed a tear.

But those two pools of red were even more unbearable to look at than tears.

Hua Jieyu took a letter out of her bosom.

The envelope had no sealing wax, only a red string tied around it. The paper was the coarse Xuan paper that the old lady usually used.

"The old lady left this behind before she passed away."

When Hua Jieyu handed it over, her hand trembled slightly.

"Let me give it to you after she leaves."

Liu Jingshuang gripped the knife handle tightly, her knuckles creaking.

Hua Jieyu turned her head away and bit her lower lip tightly.

Shang Wanqing lowered her head, blood still dripping from her fingertips.

Nie Yinniang remained rooted to the side of the tent pillar, not moving an inch.

Su Qingyun's shoulders were still shrugging.

Xie Daoning lay on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Wei Zhao finally moved and reached out to take the letter.