The door opened very unsteadily.
When white light seeped through the crack, it did not form an unbroken sheet as it usually did. Instead, it came in fits and starts, like a thread being torn apart by the wind and snow.
The sounds coming from behind the door were chaotic as well. Wind, neighing horses, and snow pellets striking the wooden panels were all mixed together, as though an entire stretch of northern-border wind and snow had crowded behind the door and was desperately trying to pour into Returning-Dust Studio.
Su Muchen stood before the door, clutching the support pack, his fingers white from gripping it so tightly.
The Owl stood beside him, his expression no longer as lazy and relaxed as usual.
“There’s very little time,” he said quietly. “The door hasn’t opened completely. It’s only cracked open.”
Su Muchen looked at the white light.
“Can we send things through?”
“Yes, but don’t touch the door,” the Owl said. “You can’t cross right now. Supplies can go through, but people can’t.”
Su Muchen’s eyes darkened slightly.
He knew the Owl was not deliberately stopping him.
He knew even more clearly that if he forced his way forward now, he would only make things worse.
But knowing was one thing.
Actually standing before the door and hearing the wind and snow on the other side made the feeling of being so close yet unable to cross over still weigh heavily on his chest.
“Xiao Yuan.”
He called again.
This time, there seemed to be some movement responding from behind the door.
It was not a voice.
It was more like a layer of snow mist had suddenly been brushed aside deep within the white light.
A moment later, a hand reached out from the light.
The hand wore a black wrist guard. Its fingers were long and slender, while old calluses and tiny cracks that had not completely healed marked the palm.
Su Muchen recognized it almost at once.
It was Xiao Yuan.
He instinctively took a step forward, but the Owl pressed down on his shoulder.
“Just pass the things over.”
Su Muchen took a deep breath and forcefully stuffed the support pack into that hand.
Their fingers briefly brushed against each other through the straps.
It was very cold.
The chill from Xiao Yuan’s side almost passed through that brief contact.
Su Muchen immediately frowned.
“It’s very cold over there?”
The wind and snow behind the door were too loud. He did not know whether Xiao Yuan could hear him.
That hand merely tightened slightly, as though responding to him.
The next moment, Xiao Yuan’s voice came through the crack in the door, deep and unsteady, as though it had been shredded apart by the wind and snow and then painstakingly pieced back together.
“I’m here.”
Only two words.
Yet Su Muchen felt as though something had pressed hard against his heart.
There were so many things he wanted to say.
He wanted to ask whether Xiao Yuan was injured.
He wanted to ask what exactly had happened in Qingshi Village.
He wanted to ask whether Xia Lanshi had developed a fever, whether Chi Banyue was injured, and whether the party had encountered an ambush.
However, the white light in the crack had already begun to fluctuate violently. The wooden panels trembled faintly, as though they would close in the very next moment.
Su Muchen could only speak quickly.
“The document on top is about the Returning-Dust Medical Sect. You can use this line to conceal the source behind you. Don’t let the Crown Prince’s people think about the door. The fire-oil treatment sheet is the second one. The medicine for children is marked. Give the rehydration solution slowly. Don’t pour it all in at once.”
He spoke extremely quickly, barely daring to pause.
Xiao Yuan responded softly from behind the door.
“Okay.”
The white light shook even more violently.
The Owl said in a deep voice, “The door is closing.”
Su Muchen’s fingers tightened.
In the end, he could not help himself.
“Xiao Yuan.”
The hand that was about to withdraw stopped.
Su Muchen looked at the dazzling white light and lowered his voice.
“Don’t force your way through.”
A very faint laugh seemed to come through the wind and snow.
“I’ll remember.”
The next moment, the hand completely withdrew.
The white light in the crack suddenly contracted, and the sound of wind and snow vanished as though it had been severed by something.
The door closed.
The back room fell silent again.
Su Muchen stood there, his fingers still held in the position of passing over the package. Only after a long while did he slowly lower his hand.
The Owl looked at the door and said softly, “It got through.”
Su Muchen lowered his eyes.
“Mm.”
His response was very quiet, but his heart had not relaxed.
Because getting through did not mean safety.
It only meant that the situation on the other side could finally continue unfolding.
◆◇◆◇◆
When Xiao Yuan caught the support pack, the cold light from the crack in the door cut a line of blood across the back of his hand.
The blood quickly froze in the wind and snow.
He paid it no attention and swiftly tucked the package into his robes.
When the white light disappeared, only the northern border’s dark night remained behind the snow slope.
Chi Banyue was standing not far away and keenly noticed the blood on his hand.
“Your Highness?”
Xiao Yuan tucked his hand into his sleeve, his tone calm.
“A minor injury.”
Chi Banyue had originally wanted to say something, but remembering that Su Muchen was not here and that saying anything might not be useful anyway, she swallowed her words.
She silently made a note of it in her heart.
Xiao Yuan returned to the carriage and lifted the curtain.
Xia Lanshi was still sitting inside. The brazier had given his face a little more color than before, but his eyes were extremely clear.
When he saw the package in Xiao Yuan’s hands, he knew the door had opened.
“Sent by Doctor Su?”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
He took out the documents and first turned to the one on top.
The Returning-Dust Medical Sect.
When those four words entered his eyes, Xiao Yuan’s gaze paused slightly.
Xia Lanshi took it and quickly read through it. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
“As expected.”
Chi Banyue leaned over.
“As expected of what?”
Xia Lanshi handed the paper to her.
“We had just thought of the Returning-Dust Medical Sect, and Doctor Su thought of it too.”
Chi Banyue finished reading it, her brows lifting slightly.
“Origin overseas, uncertain whereabouts, does not enter the imperial court, specializes in trauma treatment, epidemics, military medical care, and identifying unusual grain. Its limitations are limited supplies, precious medicine, and an inability to provide large quantities. Doctor Su understands how to use its products but doesn’t control the source…”
When she reached this point, she could not help laughing.
“This story is really quite convincing.”
Xia Lanshi said softly, “The more false something appears, the more detailed it must be. The more real it appears, the less completely it can be explained. Doctor Su understood that perfectly.”
It was as though he and Su Muchen shared the same mind, often arriving at the same ideas.
It was just… too coincidental.
Xiao Yuan looked at the document, a faint warmth surfacing in his eyes.
Separated by an unstable door.
Separated by wind and snow, Qingshi Village, the Crown Prince’s spies, and unknown traps.
Su Muchen had still delivered what they needed most.
It was not a miracle.
It was that person staying awake all night, searching through old books, writing plans, breaking down risks, and laying down every path he could think of an inch ahead of them.
There was also a pair of black gloves among the supplies. A note attached to them read:
“Insulated gloves. For Xiao Yuan only. Put them on before touching equipment.”
Xiao Yuan: “…”
Xia Lanshi cleared his throat lightly and pretended nothing had happened.
Chi Banyue could not help bursting into laughter.
She had long since heard about the record of His Highness damaging Doctor Su’s belongings. Last time, the Owl had even forbidden him from touching the instruments. She did not know why, but it was simply too funny.
Chi Banyue suddenly noticed another folded sheet of paper tucked beneath the documents.
“What is this?”
She was quick-handed. Just as she was about to pull it out, Xiao Yuan had already reached over and pressed it down.
Chi Banyue froze.
Xiao Yuan’s expression was indifferent.
“It’s not for you.”
Chi Banyue: “…”
Xia Lanshi lowered his head and took a sip of warm water, a hint of amusement appearing in his eyes.
Chi Banyue looked at Xiao Yuan, then at the piece of paper he had taken away, and immediately understood something.
Her smile became meaningful.
“Oh.”
Xiao Yuan ignored her.
He slipped the paper into his sleeve without opening it in front of everyone.
Some things were not suitable to be unfolded amid wind, snow, and military affairs.
He wanted to wait until somewhere quieter to read it.
Or perhaps he had already guessed that it would not contain anything related to military affairs.
Precisely because of that, he could not casually let anyone else see it.
Xia Lanshi spoke at just the right moment, pulling the conversation back to business.
“Your Highness, since Doctor Su has also proposed the Returning-Dust Medical Sect, we can use this line. Tonight’s situation in Qingshi Village isn’t only about rescuing people. We also need that messenger to see what we want him to see.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
“Proceed as you said. First cut off the fire, then rescue the people. The Returning-Dust Medical Sect will only reveal a shadow.”
Chi Banyue asked, “What about the child?”
Xiao Yuan looked at the package.
Su Muchen had marked every packet of medicine. Even though the people of Dasheng did not understand modern drug names, they could still tell which packet was for children with fevers, which was for rehydration, and which was not to be taken indiscriminately.
He took out a small packet. It had already been wrapped in ordinary oil paper. In the corner was only a tiny mark drawn in black ink—
Returning-Dust.
Chi Banyue could not help sighing in admiration.
“Doctor Su is really meticulous even when forging things.”
Xia Lanshi said, “This isn’t forgery.”
Chi Banyue looked at him.
Xia Lanshi lowered his eyes, his tone calm.
“This is called staying alive.”
Keeping Su Muchen alive.
Keeping the door alive.
And, even more importantly, keeping the road behind Xiao Yuan from being discovered by the Crown Prince.
Xiao Yuan handed the packet of medicine to Chi Banyue.
“Use it according to what Su Muchen wrote. Save the people, and reveal nothing more than necessary.”
Chi Banyue put away the medicine and mounted her horse.
“Understood.”
◆◇◆◇
The messenger at the stone quarry west of the village had not left.
He seemed unwilling to accept that Prince Su had stopped outside the village, and was ordering his men to inspect the oil barrels again. However, the few barrels that Chi Banyue had tampered with showed no obvious abnormalities on the surface. Although the sealing ropes had been cut, they were still barely hanging in place, and the guards did not notice anything wrong at a cursory glance.
The messenger frowned and asked, “What about the ancestral hall?”
The guard answered, “The people are still there. The village chief and several able-bodied men are tied up, and the women and children are inside as well. As soon as the fire starts, they won’t dare run around.”
“What about Prince Su’s men?”
“They’re still outside the village.”
The messenger’s expression darkened.
“He won’t enter the village, and he won’t leave. What exactly is he waiting for?”
Of course, he did not know that Xiao Yuan was not waiting for dawn.
He was waiting for them to make the first move.
Not far away, hidden in the snowy shadows behind the piles of stone, Chi Banyue listened, her eyes growing colder and colder.
One of the guards beside her whispered, “Should we move?”
Chi Banyue glanced at the sky.
“Wait a little longer.”
The moment she finished speaking, another guard silently slipped back.
“There are three hidden sentries around the ancestral hall. Two men beside the granary. If the oil barrels are pushed out of the quarry, they’ll have to take the southwest path.”
Chi Banyue nodded.
“Then we’ll make our move on the southwest path.”
She wanted the messenger to see what he thought was going to succeed.
Then she would let him see how Prince Su had cut off the fire in advance.
Only then would the information he took back be convincing.
A perfect lie was never built entirely from fabrication.
It required letting the other party personally witness part of the truth.
◆◇◆◇◆
Inside the ancestral hall, the villagers of Qingshi Village had already been trapped for two days.
The snow disaster had come suddenly, and the food route to the Northern Outpost had abruptly been cut off. At first, people had merely fought over food. Later, mountain bandits entered the village, with fake refugees infiltrating among them. When the able-bodied villagers resisted, several were beaten to death. The village chief was forced to hand over the village’s stored grain, and the ancestral hall became a place for holding captives.
During the day, they could still hear people outside moving things, dragging carts, and speaking in hushed voices.
After nightfall, the ancestral hall became frighteningly quiet.
The children were so hungry they could barely cry. The elderly huddled in the corners, trembling. Several able-bodied men were tied to pillars, cloth stuffed into their mouths, their eyes filled with bloodshot veins.
The village chief was an old man in his sixties, with graying hair and a wound on his forehead where he had been struck by the handle of a knife. Leaning beside the altar table, he listened to the faint footsteps outside, and his heart sank deeper and deeper.
Someone was going to burn the village. He had already guessed that.
Those people had gathered the villagers in the ancestral hall and were moving oil toward the granary. Their purpose could not possibly be mere intimidation.
The village chief looked toward the darkness beyond the crack in the ancestral hall’s door, despair filling his eyes.
Would Prince Su really come?
And if he did, would it still be in time?
Just then, an extremely faint sound came from the rear window of the ancestral hall.
One of the able-bodied men tied beside a pillar suddenly raised his head.
The paper on the window was lifted by a thin blade, revealing a narrow opening. A cold-looking face appeared from outside.
The person was dressed in black, her face half-covered by snow, but her eyes were exceptionally bright.
She raised a hand and gestured for silence.
The man’s eyes widened.
Chi Banyue.
Two guards followed behind her.
They did not immediately break down the door, nor did they loudly call out that they had come to rescue them. Instead, they climbed through the rear window, first cutting the ropes around the nearest able-bodied men.
Then they whispered, “No noise. Those who can move, help those who can’t. Keep the elderly and children in the middle, and the able-bodied men on the outside. When the fire starts, don’t rush through the main entrance. Use the rear window.”
When the cloth was removed from the village chief’s mouth, tears nearly streamed down his old face.
“Has His Highness Prince Su come?”
Chi Banyue looked at him.
“He has.”
Those two words were like a spark, instantly illuminating the eyes of everyone in the ancestral hall whose hope had nearly gone out.
The village chief said in a trembling voice, “There’s oil outside… They’re going to burn…”
“We know,” Chi Banyue said.
Her voice was too steady.
So steady that the village chief was momentarily stunned.
Chi Banyue stuffed a small packet of ordinary dry rations into the hands of a woman nearby, then passed over a bag of warm water.
“Give the children some to wet their mouths first. Don’t let them drink too much at once. His Highness’s people are outside to receive you.”
She paused, then added softly, “That’s what Doctor Su said.”
The village chief did not know who Doctor Su was.
But among those who had fled from Hanchuan, quite a few had already mentioned this name.
They said Hanchuan had survived because Prince Su had brought food, and also because an unseen Doctor Su had taught them how to treat the sick, how to distribute grain, and how to keep people who had gone hungry for too long from eating themselves to death.
Hearing that name again at this moment somehow made them feel inexplicably reassured.
After confirming that the people in the ancestral hall could move, Chi Banyue turned and climbed back out through the rear window.
The wind and snow outside were fierce.
She raised her head and looked toward the west side of the village.
Someone had already begun pushing the oil barrels.
◆◇◆◇◆
The messenger believed everything was still under his control.
When two barrels of oil were pushed onto the southwest path, he deliberately did not follow too closely. Instead, he stood at the edge of the quarry, waiting to see the glow of fire in the direction of the ancestral hall.
He believed Prince Su would certainly act.
Whether to rescue people or capture them.
As long as Prince Su moved, he would be able to see more things.
But what came was not the fire at the ancestral hall.
It was an oil barrel suddenly toppling over on the southwest path.
When the first barrel rolled down the snowy slope, its sealing rope snapped, and oil spilled across the snow. The pungent smell instantly spread through the air. Before the mountain bandit pushing the barrel could react, a rope caught his feet and sent him crashing into the snow.
An arrow pierced the second barrel.
Oil sprayed from the hole, but instead of reaching the ancestral hall, it spilled entirely across the path.
The messenger’s expression changed drastically.
“There’s someone—!”
Before he could finish, a dazzling white light suddenly appeared from the forest.
It was not fire.
The light was cold and white, abrupt, like an eye suddenly opening in the snowy night.
The messenger instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes.
So did several mountain bandits around him, momentarily blinded by the sudden light.
It was the hand-crank generator lamp Su Muchen had sent.
Xiao Yuan’s people had already wrapped its casing in cloth, leaving only a narrow beam exposed. But in a snowy night without any lamps, that thin strip of cold white light was enough to temporarily blind them.
The next instant, the guards charged out of the snowy shadows.
The backs of blades slammed down, bowstrings tightened around throats.
Before the mountain bandits could even cry out, they were pinned to the snow.
The messenger turned to flee, only to discover that Xiao Yuan had somehow already appeared at the quarry’s exit.
Black robes.
A black cloak.
His long sword remained sheathed.
Yet simply standing there, he seemed like the heaviest shadow in the entire snowstorm.
The messenger’s face went deathly pale.
“Prince… Su…”
Xiao Yuan looked at him coldly.
“You wanted to see the road behind this prince?”
The messenger’s pupils contracted.
Xiao Yuan walked toward him step by step.
“Then open your eyes and see clearly.”
With that, he did not kill him.
He merely raised a hand and signaled for the guards to capture him.
Forced to kneel in the snow, the messenger watched helplessly as the villagers who should have been burned alive inside the ancestral hall were brought out batch by batch through the rear window.
The elderly were supported.
The children were carried.
Once freed, the able-bodied men turned around and helped carry the others.
There was no raging fire.
No screams.
No scene in which Prince Su flew into a rage, entered the village in haste, and accidentally revealed some miraculous medicine.
There was only a trap that had been seen through in advance, now being turned back upon its creators inch by inch in the wind and snow.
When Chi Banyue emerged from the rear of the ancestral hall carrying the feverish child, she deliberately stopped where the messenger could see her.
She took out an oil-paper packet.
In the corner of the packet were two words.
—Guichen.
The messenger stared fixedly at those two words.
Chi Banyue acted as though she had not noticed. She dissolved the medicine into warm water and slowly fed it to the child. The woman beside her was crying so hard she could barely stand, repeatedly asking in a low voice whether her child could survive.
Chi Banyue said only one thing.
“Medicine from the Guichen Medical Sect. Don’t waste it.”
She did not speak loudly.
Yet it was just loud enough for the messenger to hear.
A flash of wild delight crossed his eyes before he quickly suppressed it.
Xiao Yuan saw it.
So did Xia Lanshi.
The fish had bitten the bait on its own.
◆◇◆◇◆
Half an hour later, all the oil around Qingshi Village had been intercepted.
The villagers were brought out of the ancestral hall in batches and settled in several intact houses on the eastern side of the village. Xiao Yuan did not rush to search the entire village. He first secured the three key locations—the ancestral hall, the granary, and the stone quarry in the west—then had his guards search each house and count the living and the dead.
The real Qingshi Village was even worse than it had appeared from outside.
The village granary had been broken into. There was little food remaining. Many sacks had been cut open, and the ground was mixed with grains of rice, melted snow, and blood. The oil barrels sent from the Northern Outpost had been hidden behind the granary. If they had arrived half a night later, this place would likely already have become a sea of flames.
The bloodstained cloth at the village entrance bearing the words “Qingshi Has Fallen” was taken down.
The village chief stood in the snow, staring at the cloth, his hands trembling violently.
“They forced me to write it.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
The village chief lowered his head, his voice old and hoarse.
“They said that if I didn’t write it, they would kill the children in the ancestral hall first.”
After saying this, his knees gave way, and he knelt in the snow.
“Your Highness, this old man was useless.”
Xiao Yuan did not let him kneel for long.
“Get up.”
The village chief froze.
Xiao Yuan said, “Being able to survive until this prince arrived does not make you useless.”
The village chief’s eyes immediately reddened.
He was trembling as someone helped him up. His lips quivered for a long while before he finally managed to say:
“Qingshi Village… can it still be saved?”
Xiao Yuan looked at the village before him, a place nearly dying beneath the torment of snow and human disaster.
He did not answer immediately.
Qingshi Village was not Hanchuan.
Hanchuan at least had a city, granaries, soldiers, and Qin Feng.
Qingshi Village had only ruined houses, civilians held hostage, a granary that had nearly been burned, and the road leading toward the Northern Outpost, whose condition was still unknown.
He remembered the note from Su Muchen.
Save the people in front of you first.
If there is no contact for three days, be sure to preserve the fire, grain seeds, and people’s morale.
So he said quietly, “Yes.”
The village chief abruptly raised his head.
Xiao Yuan looked at him and said each word clearly:
“As long as someone is still alive, there is hope.”
◆◇◆◇◆
By dawn, Qingshi Village finally had its first point of firelight.
It was not a fire meant to burn the village.
It was a small brazier lit by the guards inside an empty house in the east.
The fire was not large and could illuminate only a small patch of snow.
But in such a morning, it was already enough to let people see the road.
The elderly and children were settled on the innermost side. The injured young men were placed separately. The women were organized to boil water and care for the sick. The remaining food in the village was counted. Although there was pitifully little, at least it had not all been burned.
Xia Lanshi had been forcibly kept inside the carriage by Chi Banyue, but he still listened to every report from behind the curtain.
Spread out beside him was a newly recorded register.
Number of survivors.
Number of wounded.
Remaining food.
Captured mountain bandits.
Usable houses.
Oil barrels.
None of the numbers looked good.
But every item had a number.
And if there was a number, there was a way to save them.
When Chi Banyue entered, she carried the scent of snow and blood.
Xia Lanshi raised his eyes.
“Are you injured?”
“Someone else’s blood.”
Chi Banyue held out her hand, letting him see that there was only a small abrasion on the back of her hand.
Xia Lanshi looked for a moment before withdrawing his gaze.
“And the child?”
“The fever has gone down a little.” Chi Banyue sat down and let out a long breath. “Doctor Su’s medicine works. The Guichen Medical Sect’s medicine works too.”
Her final sentence was spoken very softly, carrying a hint of teasing.
Xia Lanshi did not smile.
He looked at the faintly brightening sky outside the carriage.
“Starting tonight, the Crown Prince will begin hunting for the Guichen Medical Sect.”
Chi Banyue asked, “Will he find it?”
Xia Lanshi lowered his eyes.
“Hopefully not. If he finds a trace of it, that will also be a trace we give him.”
The Crown Prince was not foolish.
But his opponent in this game was Xia Lanshi.
And that meant he was destined to be toyed with by him at every turn.
Chi Banyue looked at him.
“Xia Lanshi, you’re actually quite frightening sometimes.”
Xia Lanshi smiled faintly.
“Not as frightening as the Crown Prince.”
Chi Banyue thought about it.
“That’s true.”
After saying that, she suddenly reached out and placed a packet of nutritional solution in front of him.
Xia Lanshi: “…”
Chi Banyue said, “Even the frightening Chief Clerk Xia needs to drink.”
Xia Lanshi stared at the packet of nutritional solution and finally let out a quiet laugh.
“Miss Banyue is becoming more and more like Doctor Su.”
Chi Banyue raised an eyebrow.
“Are you going to listen?”
Xia Lanshi was silent for a moment before picking up the nutritional solution.
“I’ll listen.”
◆◇◆◇◆
Xiao Yuan stood beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance.
The ragged cloth bearing the bloody words had already been removed and replaced with a wind-shielded lantern.
The lantern flame was small, illuminating only a tiny patch of snow.
But in this early morning, it was enough for people to see the road.
The messenger was being held not far away. His injuries were not serious, and he remained conscious.
He had personally witnessed everything that had happened in Qingshi Village that night.
He had also personally seen the words “Guichen.”
Next, he would leave carrying the truth he believed he had seen.
Xiao Yuan had no intention of releasing him immediately.
But he would make him believe that he had a chance to escape.
A man who escaped back would be more convincing to the Crown Prince than a secret letter.
One of the guards whispered, “Your Highness, are you really going to let him go?”
Xiao Yuan said, “I’m not letting him go. I’m making him lead the way.”
The guard understood.
The messenger believed he was an escaped survivor returning to report the news.
In reality, he would become the thread leading Prince Su toward the people behind the scenes.
Xiao Yuan looked toward Qingshi Village.
Inside the village, soldiers had already begun clearing the snow-covered roads. The rescued civilians quietly wept beside the braziers, and some people held their children and kowtowed toward him.
He did not go over.
At this moment, what the villagers needed was not worship.
They needed hot water, food, medicine, and somewhere they could survive until dawn.
Xiao Yuan lowered his head and took the folded piece of paper he had kept in his sleeve the previous night.
Amid the wind and snow, he finally unfolded it.
There was only one sentence on the paper.
—When the door does not open, I will wait; when the door opens, I will be there.
Xiao Yuan looked at it for a long time.
His fingertip slowly brushed over those words, as though there were warmth left upon them.
He could almost imagine what Su Muchen had looked like when writing them.
Probably his ears had been red, his brows furrowed, and after finishing, he had wanted to crumple the paper up. In the end, he had still forced himself to tuck it into the documents.
At that thought, the faintest smile appeared in Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
The wind and snow in Qingshi Village remained bitterly cold.
The situation had not yet been completely resolved.
The road to the Northern Outpost was still broken at an unknown point.
Yet the heaviness in his chest, pressed down by the cold, slowly loosened because of this piece of paper.
Someone was waiting.
Someone was preparing lamps, medicine, food, and everything he might need on the other side of the door.
And someone was telling him, in the most clumsy and least straightforward way—
He was not walking this snowy road alone.
Xiao Yuan folded the paper again and placed it close to his body.
The daylight gradually brightened.
Qingshi Village had not fallen.
And from this moment onward, this game would no longer be decided by the Crown Prince alone.