Tears streamed down Chu Qiao’s eyes in a neat line. She removed her heavy cloak and let it fall to the ground. At this moment, the general who had taken West Meng by storm and terrorized Xia had disappeared. She was merely a fallen young lady. Her face was pale and frail, her eyes were deep. Her hands, which she used to wave around passionately when commanding, slumped to both sides weakly. The look in her eyes was blank. Tears streamed down her skinny face, causing a sensation of pain as it was dried by the winds.

　　Only now did she realize that her love for Yan Xun had been deeply etched. As it accumulated over all these years, those feelings had seemingly blended into her bloodstream and become part of her body. Previously, she did not realize it when he was engaged to Zhao Chun’er; she did not realize it when she was forced to be separated from him by traveling to Tang herself; she did not realize it when she was staring in the face of death while defending Beishuo. It was because at that time, no matter how far apart they were, their hearts were joined. She knew that he loved her deeply, regardless of whether he was forced to stay by someone else’s side, regardless of how far they were separated, and regardless of whether they lived or died. However, at this moment, he stood behind her, watching her fallen shadow depart. It dawned on her that all this did not compare to his suspicions!

　　Her loyalty and love for him was as sturdy as the mountains; it would not be moved even if there was a catastrophe. If the trust was still there, she would not even blink an eyelid even if she died. Hence, when he abandoned the Southwest Emissary’s Garrison at Zhen Huang City, she was not angry. When he gave up Yan Bei again, she forgave him in the blink of an eye. Subsequently, when he killed the soldiers of the Southwest Emissary’s Garrison and protected Cheng Yuan, whose fault was it that he continued to take the path of no return? Was it the trauma that he had experienced? The feuds that ran deep in his heart? The many years of suppression and craziness? Or was it she that did not manage to hold him back?

　　In a flash, she walked into a pitch-dark tent. The outside of the tent was colored white and stood tall like tombstones. Chu Qiao’s legs buckled, causing her to fall on the snowy ground. She reached out her hand to support herself up, but did not manage to do so. The cries which she had suppressed finally surfaced. She knelt on the ground, her hands clutching the snow. It felt so painful, like she was holding an icy cold knife. Her shoulders were quivering, unable to suppress the sorrow inside her. Tears started to stream down her face.

　　Yan Xun, how could you doubt me? How could you suspect me?

　　The snow became heavier. Chu Qiao was dressed in white and slumped on the snowy ground. She covered her mouth and cried in silence as the snow accumulated on her shoulders.

　　The next day, Chu Qiao made a request to Yan Xun personally, for her to leave the eastern war zone and head back to Yan Bei with the soldiers of the Southwest Emissary’s Garrison. She was to head back to Huihui Mountains along the district of Shangshen to carry out irrigation and agricultural works, in order to help the civilians repair their lives after the war.

　　Yan Xun looked at her request for a long time, before approving it quietly with a “Yes”. There were not many letters in the word, but he took a long time to write it. When he penned the final strokes, the sky had brightened. The sunlight shone on the snowy ground, making the surroundings appear even more desolate.

　　The sky was clear on the day of Chu Qiao’s departure; the fog, which was still present a few days ago, had dissipated. None of the soldiers came to send her off, not even Yan Xun. She rode on her horse and looked up at the azure blue sky, seeing white eagles circling in the air. Their cries reverberated for a long time around the landscape.

　　Yan Xun, I’m leaving. Take care of yourself.

　　On the day that she left Shangshen, the sky was similarly clear. Although the new year was approaching, the weather was still cold but the skies were sunny, blue and clear. The sunlight was warm, appearing like golden strands of silk. A row of well-built, fit warhorses galloped along the snowy plains. The row of horses stretched over a long distance; it was estimated that there were about 2,000 people.

　　Presently, it was the tail end of the year 776 of the Bai Cang calendar. In half a month’s time, the new year would arrive. On the way, Chu Qiao met a lot of merchants who were on their way from the inner mainland to carry out their trades. Yan Bei’s economy had become prosperous. Although the war at the border had not ceased, a lot of merchants from the inner mainland made their way to Yan Bei along the water routes of the southern borders to carry out their trading.

　　Chu Qiao removed the hat on her head and looked up towards the azure blue sky. The look in her eyes was clear. In a flash, a year had passed. The young lady had grown taller; her face and contours appeared more mature. Her hair was neatly tied up. She wore a green cloak as she rode on top of her red warhorse.

　　Ge Qi approached her from the front on his horse and remarked, “General, Commander He Xiao wants me to pass the message to you, that we will be setting up camp at the foot of Minxi Mountains tonight. He has made preparations beforehand together with the advance party.”

　　Chu Qiao nodded; suddenly, she heard the cries of the eagles above her. She raised her head and gazed into the distance. Once they had passed Minxi Mountains, they would reach Huolei Plains. Further on, they would reach the newly conquered Northwest Territories of Yan Bei. That piece of land used to belong to Xia, but had been integrated into the map of Yan Bei. The war at Yanming Pass had dragged on for an entire year.

　　That year was an eventful one. The year 775 was known as the most chaotic and turbulent year in the history of West Meng; it deserved its place in the history books. After the war between Xia and Yan Bei broke out halfway, a series of mishaps happened in the territory of Xia. The civilians at the northern region stirred up trouble, along with their seven rulers. This severely depleted the resources available to supply the battle at the northwest, including the number of conscripts available to be drafted into the army. Driven to desperation, Zhao Che had to change his strategy from attack to defense, guarding Yanming Pass to the death, in order to buy time to settle the internal conflicts. As the storm had subsided, the Tang Emperor abruptly passed away. Amidst the chaos, the Crown Prince of Tang, Li Ce, ascended the throne. Due to internal discord within the Tang Empire, small skirmishes erupted at the borders separating Xia and Tang. If not for Zhao Yang, who was sent to the border to stop the fighting, Xia would have faced the prospect of fighting a three-pronged war. Everyone witnessed this sight. The Xia Empire, in just a short year, was obviously on the path of decline. In the west, they were powerless to conquer Yan Bei; in the north, they were unable to appease their civilians; in the south, they were unable to scare Song into submission; in the east, they were subjected to Song’s economic embargoes. Presently, the continent of West Meng no longer had one dominant superpower.

　　Half a year ago, Yan Xun officially ascended the throne at Luori Mountains, declaring Yan Bei as an independent state. They were known as the state of Yan, naming their calendar as the calendar of Chuyuan. With the exception of Xia, the other empires of Tang and Song did not object to this motion. With this, he officially became the legitimate ruler of Yan Bei, stabilizing his position within the country.

　　That day, Chu Qiao was not present. She told her subordinates to leave, as she scaled Huihui Mountains alone. Nada Palace was situated atop the peak of Huihui Mountains – it was the palace that Yan Shicheng had built for his wife, Bai Sheng. It was made up of white stone and submerged within vast plantations of red and yellow flowers. It appeared like a scene in an ink portrait—peaceful and tranquil, without any trace of human disruption. The eaves of the rooftops were upturned, making the sight look like a paradise. The water flowed and made sounds, as if it was describing the love showered upon the king’s wife.

　　She sat on the peak of Huihui Mountains, hearing the carefree singing of the shepherds in their farms below. The sound was soothing, and had the power to calm anyone who heard the voice. She gazed towards the horizon, saw the grey shadow of Luori Mountains, and smiled. Despite being far away from each other, she seemingly saw the man dressed in a majestic robe, basking in his glory. Her lips curled upwards as she smiled and looked up. The wind brushed past her face and caused her green colored clothes to sway slightly, appearing like a blossoming green lotus.

　　The present-day Yan Bei was no longer like the past. With Song providing economic support, Yan Xun obtaining the advantage in the war, and Chu Qiao’s efforts in the reconstruction and revamping of the mainland, it signaled the rise of this new royal capital. Yan Bei’s weapon technology was miles ahead of the other three empires. Under Chu Qiao’s leadership, they built a series of munition factories in succession, constructed over 30 large mining areas, carried out irrigation works, made Yan Bei’s land suitable for agricultural works, and established large food production areas in the vicinity of Huihui Mountains along the district of Shangshen. That autumn, Yan Bei produced twice as much food as compared to previous years, making their supply of food self-sufficient. They invested heavily in medical developments, built military schools, and improved trade relations between themselves and the empires of Song and Tang. Although Chu Qiao’s motions to abolish slavery were not passed through, slaves were rarely seen on the streets which were under her jurisdiction. The liberal government policies, coupled with the law and order of the society, attracted large hordes of civilians and merchants. In less than a year, Huihui Mountains had been transformed into a large residential area. Its rural elements were replaced with elements of a business district, much like in the northwest.

　　The unit designation of the Southwest Emissary’s Garrison was ultimately canceled, as they were no longer part of Yan Bei’s fighting forces. As they set up their camp around the vicinity of Xiuli River, they were renamed as the Xiuli Army. Chu Qiao also came to be known as the General of Xiuli by the civilians. Presently, the Xiuli Army was made up of 9,000 people. As the new year approached, it was the last time that they delivered rations to the frontline troops before taking a well-deserved break.

　　Before dusk, Chu Qiao and her party had reached Minxi Mountains. There were many vast plains in Yan Bei. Although Minxi Mountains was known as a mountain, in reality, it was just a small hill which was less than 100 meters tall. When Chu Qiao and her party arrived, He Xiao and his troops had set up the tents and prepared a feast. Chu Qiao guzzled down a mouthful of warm, meaty soup, the day’s fatigue subsiding as she drank up.

　　The most beautiful time of Yan Bei was nighttime. It was the 15th day of the lunar calendar, as the full moon shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the snowy white plains. Along the mountains were tributary rivers which had been frozen solid. The previous day, when she passed by Mawei City, its mayor had insisted on giving her a present. As she could not refuse his offer, she had to choose a box from the big carriage. When she opened it, it revealed a green cloak inside. It was exquisitely woven with sable fur, causing it to shine. It was smooth to the touch; it was evident that this was a priceless, high-grade treasure.

　　Four fireplaces were lit within the tent, suffocating the atmosphere. Chu Qiao put on her cloak and walked out of the tent, all the way to the foot of the mountains. Her shadow was desolate; the moonlight was pale as it shrouded her shadow lightly. The guide who led the way told her that this was the temple belonging to the Goddess of Yan Bei. It was constructed by the ancestors of Yan Bei hundreds of years ago. Through the years, it had always watched over the land of Yan Bei.

　　Chu Qiao lifted her foot as she walked along the rugged mountain paths. Heavy snowfall had accumulated along the pavements, causing her to walk knee-deep in the snow. For two hours, she walked and walked, until she finally reached the peak. This was a palace made entirely of stone. It was not big; its height was equivalent to four humans stacked together. There was one gate each at the eastern and western parts of the building. Chu Qiao stood at the western door, gazing at a statue which was almost touching the roof. It seemed to occupy a majority of the space in the temple. The temple was dilapidated; snow seeped through the cracks on the rooftops. Cobwebs and dust were ever present around the temple. However, that solitary statue had not a speck of dust on it, as it stood tall in the temple. The goddess’s face was serene. Looking at her, Chu Qiao seemed to visualize Yan Xun’s mother at Jiu You Platform many years ago. Her eyes were calm and gentle. The contours of the stone revealed a dress which was fluttering in the air. Her stomach was bulging; it was evident that she was pregnant.

　　When she was young, Yan Xun had told her that the goddess of Yan Bei was female. The goddess had two sides: one was a valiant warrior with an ax in her hands, which represented subjugation and massacres. The other side was a warm, gentle motherly figure who was pregnant, which represented watchfulness and prosperity. Presently, as she stood in front of the statue, she realized that his words held true.