AhJing stood behind Yan Xun, his heart about to leap out from his chest as he muttered in his soul, Your Majesty, we are in their territory, could you speak one or two sentences less?

　　The battle raged on. By midnight, the Quan Rong army broke through from the northwest. Zhuge Yue and Yan Xun began their crazed chase again. After chasing for a good four hours, Yan Xun’s left shoulder was shot by an arrow again, while Zhuge Yue was hurt on his shoulder too. At this very moment, there was a rolling of horses’ hooves from the southwestern. Before they could send scouts out, the intruding group had already begun fighting with the Quan Rong people.

　　With this encirclement, the Quan Rong force was finally annihilated. The central encampment was ultimately captured by the intruding group of people. Zhuge Yue raged as he left behind Yan Xun and charged over to see who was the one who stole his prey. Yet, he unexpectedly saw a certain familiar female officer checking the spoils of war before the formations. Upon seeing Zhuge Yue, she naturally said, “This was the Khan of the Quan Rong people. By the time I arrived, he had already committed suicide.”

　　Zhuge Yue was utterly stunned. In his bloodied outfit he looked at his wife as he asked unnaturally, “Why did you come?”

　　Chu Qiao raised her eyebrow as she looked at him as though this was a matter of fact. “Pingan had come to find me at midnight to tell me that you had gone out to fight. How could I not come?”

　　At this very moment, the sounds of the horse trotting could be heard from the back. Yan Xun’s figure gradually appeared from the darkness. In his ink-like armor, there were countless places of damage, and he appeared ever so pale, yet he still stood upright. Standing beside Zhuge Yue, he was illuminated by many torches. Yet, it seemed like all the fires were unable to light up the darkness shrouding him. He merely looked at Chu Qiao with a perfectly calm face, devoid of any emotion. Yet, the eyes that seemed like the night ocean were brimming with invisible undercurrents.

　　As opposed to Zhuge Yue who led a huge army, Yan Xun’s wounds were more serious than Zhuge Yue’s as he only led a 3,000-man elite cavalry. As of now, there were countless injuries, big and small, on his body. On his shoulder there was a broken arrow, still bleeding. Yet, he seemed as though he could not feel it at all.

　　With the cacophony in the background, there were soldiers scolding the Quan Rong bodies, and the moaning of the wounded. There was also the crackling of the torches. With the howling of the wind, they were surrounded by all kinds of noise, but they seemed completely oblivious to everything around them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their gazes met and sparks were sent out, eventually turning into an inferno.

　　“Xing’er,” Zhuge Yue suddenly said as he jumped off his horseback calmly, “I will go and check on the casualty status. The Yan Emperor is injured, you should go find someone to treat him.” With that said, he turned around and allow his wife to stand alone in the dark tundra with this man she had too many ties with.

　　For a very long time, Chu Qiao did not know what to say. This was the first time she had met Yan Xun after the Battle at Huolei. This time they were not separated by huge military formations nor a sea of blades; they were merely facing each other just like that. Face to face, eye to eye. As long as one lifted up their head, they could see each other’s features, and even hear the thumping of the other’s heart.

　　At that moment, it was like the world in their minds was overturned completely. Any word seemed to pale in meaning compared to what they were feeling. The feeling of desolation overwhelmed them as they were no longer the people they once were, no longer the person that the other was most familiar with. It seemed like time was really the cruelest form of change.

　　Yan Xun sat atop his horse, looking down at her, his gaze completely unfazed. Countless people walked around. The flames from the torches flickered, giving those walking by a wavering glow.

　　It was still that same pair of eyebrows and eyes. It was still that same face. Yet, the person was no longer the one that they had sworn to be with for all eternity.

　　Was it even possible for anyone to understand the sorrow within them?

　　Perhaps it was possible, perhaps it was impossible. Words were completely meaningless. Just like the crimson leaves in autumn, no matter how beautiful, it was impossible to prevent them from withering. The sky was black, the ground was white. It was this same land, same sky, the same place they had dreamed about. But for some reason, they found it difficult to even hold a simple conversation.

　　Yan Xun looked at Chu Qiao. There was a huge flame that started to burn behind her. She was like a deity at the altar with a holiness that he could never seem to reach. He was suddenly reminded of how many years ago, on that snowing night, in that pitch black prison, they stretched out their hands through the crack in the wall and tightly held onto each other.

　　Perhaps they were like two seeds that had survived through the winter together by relying on each other for warmth, waiting for the arrival of spring. Yet, when spring finally came, as they helped each other out from the soil, they finally realized that the land was incapable of nourishing the both of them. As such, they drifted into their respective paths.

　　Yan Xun suddenly felt tired. His heart was frozen like the permafrost atop the mountains in Yan Bei. After all these years, no matter what situation he was faced with, he had never felt so tired. He told himself, it is time to leave. With that, he really turned around and started walking off.

　　Yet, at this very moment, a warm voice sounded from behind him, “Yan Xun!” Indeed, it was a warm voice, carrying with it a feeling that had been lost for many years. Like a boiling fountain, the moment he stretched his frigid hands into the fountain, he felt such warmth that he started trembling.

　　“Yan Xun!” She called out again, “Cheng Yuan was behind me, and I estimate that he will arrive soon.”

　　Yan Xun did not nod and did not speak, but merely held the reins of his horse, unmoving like a statue.

　　“You are injured, let’s treat your wounds, alright?” She slowly walked over to his side until she was before him, stretching out her hand and pulling on the reins to his horse. She stubbornly asked, “Alright?”

　　Yan Xun suddenly felt a little bitter. It seemed as though since young, she was always the one who had more courage. A few doctors carrying their medicine kits ran up, standing behind her with their heads bowed down.

　　He did not speak, and freely let those doctors treat his wounds. When the arrow was pulled out, he did not even flinch. After roughly an hour, the doctors finally left, covered in sweat. Yet she walked over, and passed him the bloody arrow.

　　At this moment, Yan Xun’s heart seemed to be in pain as he frowned. Ultimately, he did not stretch out his hand to take it. He casually said, “The enemy is dead. There was no need to keep this.”

　　Indeed, this entire team of Quan Rong people was annihilated. Even their Khan was dead. What enemy was there left? That was his habit for many years. He would keep all the weapons that managed to hurt him. Only until he managed to take revenge did he finally destroy those weapons.

　　It seemed like it had not been forgotten. Even if one tried not to think about it, ultimately time would carve certain experiences into one’s very soul.

　　After standing there for an undetermined amount of time, the wind blew from afar, bringing with it the unique smell of the Yan Bei highlands. Yan Xun quietly lifted his head and looked at Chu Qiao who was before him. They were so close, yet he would never be able to cross that distance ever again. He could make the whole world prostrate before him, and his blades could conquer any land in this world. As long as he willed it, he could destroy anything. Yet only when faced with her was he unable to do anything.

　　A certain emotion, going by the name of self-mockery, emerged from his heart. Yan Xun wanted to laugh, yet his lips only produced a cold smile. He suddenly turned his back. His figure seemed like towering pine, proud and lonesome, yet it seemed as though he was able to push the heavens apart. Just like that, he stepped away. With heavy steps, yet he walked faster and faster away.

　　“Yan Xun! Take care!” Someone was calling behind him. Who was talking? Who was she calling out to?

　　Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun…

　　At that moment, it felt as though he was reliving that night when his pinky finger was cut off by Wei Jing, and she cried his name out again and again in sorrow in the darkness of the night.

　　Yan Xun, Yan Xun, Yan Xun…

　　No one called him like that any longer. He became ‘Your Majesty’, the ‘Emperor’, the ‘Imperial Highness’, the ‘Lord of these lands’, yet he had lost his own name.

　　Yan Xun, Yan Xun, are you still around? You gained everything, but what have you lost? Are you really happy now?

　　I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Being happy is not everything there is to life. There are some things that even if you do, you may not be happy, yet there are some things that if you do not do, you will definitely not be happy. At the very least, I got what I wanted, did I not?

　　His pace grew faster, more determined. His spine was straighter than ever as he held onto the reins and jumped on the horse deftly.

　　Say nothing, see nothing. His iron-clad heart was finally breached so he must leave now! Immediately! Must! This instant!

　　The weight of the memories swarmed down on him. Those memories that had been sealed in his head for so many years crept up in his heart like rotten trees. He wanted to suppress, to escape, and to run away from all these emotions that disgusted him!

　　Weakness, sorrow, regret, hesitation…

　　There were many emotions that should not have had a place in his heart.

　　Yet, when he left everything behind in the dust, a word appeared in his heart, his lungs, his throat, his mouth. The words knocked on his vocal cords, and he almost let the sound out multiple times. He tightly frowned as he clenched his teeth like a wolf, his eyes completely red. Yet, his inner voice spoke uncontrollably in his chest as the echoes and reverberations in his chest all turned into that word:

　　AhChu, AhChu, AhChu, AhChu, AhChu!

　　No one could understand, and no one would know. Only he, only he alone would.

　　He took a deep breath, as though sealing the words back into the depths of his heart.

　　Right, everything has ended. Stop thinking, stop seeing, stop feeling nostalgic.

　　Go. Leave.

　　Everything has ended. Everything has vanished with your determination. All memories will eventually vanish into dust. Everything in the past will be forgotten by you, and turn to meaningless ashes.

　　All is well. I am the Emperor of the Great Yan. I am their ruler. I command all these lands. I obtained what I wanted.

　　With the horse hooves stepping on the cold tundra, there was a crisp pitter-patter as many small snowflakes flew down, disappearing with the figure that slowly vanished into the darkness of the night. With the light shimmering, the golden-yellow flag fluttered high in the sky with the pitch black eagle spreading its wings ferociously. That was his army, his men, his world. Like a gold chain, he was chained to that position where he was forbidden from any hesitation or indecisiveness.

　　Ultimately, he was the Emperor of the Great Yan Empire. Sitting on his throne that was built upon his conscience, and blood, and bones, he did not have the right to turn back. As such, he straightened his back and continued walking down this path without turning back. He remained determined and firm in his footsteps. His gaze was sharp like a blade, just like his entire personality—firm and unyielding to any challenge.

　　At that moment, Chu Qiao stood in the snow and wind, watching Yan Xun’s vanishing figure. She suddenly understood something. Beside him, there were countless torches, countless subordinates, and servants, yet he seemed so terribly lonely. Perhaps she was truly unable to understand him.

　　Such hatred, the humiliation of falling from heaven to hell. The pain that nibbled at his heart for the entire eight years. Even though she was by his side, she was unable to get rid of such pain for him. Now that she thought about it, for two people who had helped each other along the way, swearing to never part, to reach such a state like today, was she not at fault?

　　She had said to never hide from each other, never to lie to each other, to treat each other with sincerity, and to never doubt one another. But had she truly achieved that?

　　No, she had not.

　　Her patience and her avoidance of the issues ultimately resulted in him walking down that path further and further. Was personality what determined everything? This was his destiny?

　　Those were just excuses.

　　While he was changing and drifting, had she tried her best to stop him or reverse the situation? Had she formally complained to him, expressing her feelings?

　　She had not. She merely waited for all to be finalized before blaming everything on him without making any effort to prevent it. She came from a different world, and as a result, she took her beliefs for granted. Yet she did not know that some things in the world required constant maintenance.

　　Ultimately, they were too young and did not understand what love was, and did not know how to express their emotions. They did not know how to protect that love. They stubbornly and naively believed that they knew what was best for each other and quietly went ahead to do it. Yet, they did not understand that no matter what challenges they faced, what truly destroyed their love was the fact that they forgot to communicate.