In the deep night, they raced along the rugged mountain path, reaching the foot of the slopes by the end of the *zi* hour (11 p.m.- 1 a.m.).
The night was pitch‑black. From here, they could faintly see the eastern gate of Suzhou’s city walls.
Long Shouren raised his hand, ordering the troops to hide behind the meadow.
In the late half of the early‑winter night, the mountain chill cut to the bone. Gu Wan pulled tighter the thick cloak Xie Ci had just draped over her. But it seemed only she felt the cold; the others did not.
Long Shouren told them: “Tonight, Commander Chen Mantian is on duty guarding the city. Before dawn, when the watch changes, the gates will be opened.”
That was only half an hour earlier than the usual time for opening the gates.
In the winter cold, no commoners would be waiting so early. They would slip into the city under cover of darkness.
“The recruitment ended the day before yesterday. After a day of organization, tomorrow morning Xun Xun will go to the main camp to inspect and discipline the troops.”
From this day forward, they would be Suzhou’s soldiers — Long Shouren’s men. This was originally the Governor’s responsibility, but now Xun Xun had usurped it entirely.
“At the start of the *mao* hour, he will leave the mansion. We must first go to the Governor’s residence.”
One departure, one arrival — the timing would overlap perfectly.
“We must rescue the Governor first!”
On this night when water froze solid, the gagged warhorses snorted uneasily. Gu Wan stroked the mane as she held the reins and listened.
At this point, Long Shouren’s grim face betrayed his worry. He paced urgently: “I don’t know how the Governor fares…”
Time passed, minute by minute, as they waited anxiously, glancing up at the moon. Suddenly, a scout rider approached, hooves muffled with straw, thudding dully. After a quick look, he reported to Long Shouren.
“Good!”
Long Shouren raised his broadsword and mounted: “All troops, hear my command! March at full speed through the night—”
Muffled hoofbeats and the steady tramp of boots echoed. Long Shouren led his elite forces swiftly under cover of darkness, reaching the eastern gate. The gate opened silently. Long Shouren’s army entered, Commander Chen Mantian quietly meeting them.
Long Shouren growled: “Just guard the gate well. Today, under no circumstances let that wretch Xun Xun leave!”
Long Shouren sped toward the Governor’s Mansion, moving silently through alleys. All patrol troops under curfew who could be diverted were diverted; those who could not were bound and knocked down on the spot. Finally, at the second quarter of the *mao* hour, they reached the Governor’s Mansion, surrounding the entire compound from the back alley outward.
The main gate was forced open. Long Shouren, leading a furious charge, stormed in. The whole mansion was thrown into alarm. Captain Wang Fan of the guard cried out in shock and anger: “Long Shouren? What are you doing?! You’ve gone mad—”
Long Shouren’s eyes blazed. Within a dozen exchanges, he struck him down with a single blade, killing him beneath his horse. “You treacherous lackey of tyranny!!”
Blood spurted from Wang Fan’s neck, splattering five paces.
The resistance of the mansion guards was quickly crushed by Long Shouren’s fury. He fought his way into Hongsong Courtyard, breaking down the door.
Inside, the cold stone chamber was like an ice cave — no fire, no charcoal. The door crash overturned cold leftovers on the floor, the stench of waste mixing with stale air, nauseating.
When Long Shouren saw the filthy old man lying on the bare bed, he fell to his knees with a thud, crying out: “Governor! Governor—”
He crawled forward, clutching the dying elder, sobbing. Xun Rongbi stirred from his stupor, agitated, trembling as he grasped Long Shouren’s hand and raised a finger: “Go! Go, kill that unfilial son—”
Long Shouren carried Xun Rongbi out, urgently summoned a physician, then placed him in a wicker chair. Wiping his tears, he seized his broadsword, mounted his horse, and rode straight for Suzhou’s main camp!
Xie Ci and Gu Wan followed the entire way closely.
The two exchanged a glance and immediately kept pace.
Long Shouren led his trusted men directly toward Suzhou’s main camp. Today was the first training of new recruits; both new and veteran soldiers, officers and commanders were all assembled on the parade ground — the perfect chance to seize Xun Xun.
Gu Wan whispered: “General Long, what of the eldest son? I’ve long heard that Young Master Xun was refined and dignified, much like his father.”
Long Shouren paused, covering his face in pain: “The eldest son fell in an ambush at Jiren Slope last year.”
Hooves thundered like drumbeats as they sped straight for the western camp.
At that moment, dawn dispelled the last trace of night. The chill of early morning spread across the camp. Veteran soldiers already stood in formation, silent on the parade ground. New recruits marched from their quarters to the flag platform, lining up row by row in perfect order.
“Entering Suzhou’s main camp, from this day forward, you are soldiers of Suzhou! You must obey the army’s rules, follow orders without question…”
Long Shouren had already led Xie Ci, Gu Wan, and his trusted officers silently into the camp.
The newly recruited soldiers were the focus today. And on the high platform stood the current commander of Suzhou’s army — Xun Xun.
Long Shouren had already contacted several veteran generals.
If Xun Xun had truly carried out a scheme to usurp his father, it meant he could not possibly have replaced all of his father’s loyal commanders in such a short time.
Long Shouren said again: “In barely a year, he thinks he can take his father’s place? Impossible.”
Gu Wan lifted her gaze. On the parade ground, the new recruits — mostly from poor families — now had food, lodging, and pay. Under the imposing military discipline, their morale was soaring.
On the flag platform stood a hawk‑nosed, sharp‑eyed young man in red armor, tall and broad‑shouldered. His features bore some resemblance to Xun Rongbi, though sharper, more aggressive, and far younger. Looking down from the platform, he wore a satisfied expression, brimming with arrogant confidence.
Below, the old generals exchanged subtle glances, their eyes filled with anger.
Long Shouren said in a low voice: “Ke Weishuo’s unit may have defected to Xun Xun. Chen Ying and Fan Liang — one died in battle, the other retired after breaking regulations. His son is not capable of stirring trouble.”
Clearly, Xun Xun had been working hard to consolidate power over the past year. But time had not been long enough. Now, the balance stood roughly fifty‑fifty. Yet this was still Suzhou’s main camp. The Governor and Commander of Pinglu was Xun Rongbi — not Xun Xun.
Long Shouren suddenly stood, waving his hand: “Strike!!”
An arrow whistled into the sky — whoosh! — exploding into a brilliant blue flame flower.
Chaos erupted!
Suddenly, a fierce shout rang out. The Suzhou soldiers, who should have been lining up behind the new recruits to return to camp, abruptly turned under the command of their officers, swiftly surrounding the parade ground. Archers appeared, longbows drawn tight, aiming directly at the central flag platform!
Xun Xun was utterly shocked: “What is going on?!”
His generals reacted quickly, forming ranks around the platform, facing off against the encircling troops.
An old general rode forth, shouting angrily: “Look behind you — see who it is!”
All eyes turned. The camp gates stood wide open, and a tide of black‑armored elite soldiers surged in. At the front rode a dozen horsemen, led by none other than Long Shouren — the Governor’s most trusted general, who should have been stationed at Feishan Pass, and who would never leave without Xun Rongbi’s personal order unless Suzhou was in dire crisis.
Long Shouren’s fury blazed like fire.
Xun Xun’s face changed drastically. “Outrageous! Wretch!! How dare you imprison your father and seize power?!”
At these words, everyone gasped, turning to look at Xun Xun on the flag platform, his face dark as storm clouds.
Long Shouren roared: “Soldiers! Seize this traitor at once! Any resistance will be punished as treason!!”
At that moment, a soft palanquin entered behind the troops. Within sat Xun Rongbi, gaunt and wasted, covered with a blanket, his gray hair loose and unbound. Holding a ginseng slice in his mouth, he forced himself upright, shouting with all his strength: “Seize this unfilial son! Any who resist — kill without mercy!! First merit will be rewarded with a thousand gold and promotion by three ranks!!”
Xun Xun’s eyes bulged with rage: “That damned old man—”
The battle to capture the traitor erupted immediately. At first, it was fiercely contested. Xun Xun had many loyalists at his side, quickly stabilizing the situation and fighting while retreating.
But Long Shouren bellowed: “You are all registered soldiers of Suzhou! If you do not lay down your arms, you will be treated as mutineers and punished accordingly!” His words were aimed at the ordinary soldiers.
Whether they were long‑serving troops of the court or newly recruited locals from the past two years, all had their names, origins, and family addresses clearly recorded. Mutiny meant implicating their families.
The ordinary soldiers froze at once!
In battle, victory or defeat often hinges on a moment — once courage falters, fear overwhelms. The tide of the melee shifted sharply in an instant. Archers had already drawn their longbows, forming a wall of arrows.
Long Shouren waved his hand — swish, swish, swish, swish — a rain of arrows shot toward the central flag platform.
One arrow flew straight at Xun Xun’s chest. A bodyguard jumped to block it, while loyal officers pulled at him: “Second Young Master, we must retreat—”
Xun Xun flung their hands away, eyes blazing, shouting: “Attack!! Any who retreat — kill them on the spot!!” He cut down seventy or eighty men in succession, barely stabilizing the situation. But by then, Long Shouren had already charged into the heart of the formation. “Wretch, prepare to die—”
Xie Ci spurred his horse forward, bow bent, arrow nocked, aiming at Xun Xun’s chest.
Most generals hesitated to claim this head merit, but two people dared to kill Xun Xun.
Gu Wan kept her eyes fixed on the flag platform. At that moment, she saw an arrow fly with unstoppable force — thud! — a blood flower blossomed on Xun Xun’s chest!
Xie Ci’s heart burned with hatred. The arrow pierced through his chest, exiting from the front, driving Xun Xun off his horse!
He fell directly beneath Long Shouren’s mount. With a roar, Long Shouren raised his halberd and struck — crack! — the sound of breaking ribs. Xun Xun collapsed on the yellow earth, blood gushing, motionless.
The battle to eliminate the traitor lasted only three quarters of an hour.
Not long, yet the ground was drenched in blood. Even after Xun Xun’s death, some continued to resist. Many generals fought with true fury, men and horses bathed in crimson.
But none of that concerned Gu Wan. Seeing Xun Xun fall lifeless, she cried out urgently: “Quick, quick! Let’s go!!”
She and Xie Ci spurred their horses, charging through the chaos straight toward Xun Xun.
“Is it him?”
The two dismounted quickly and crouched down. Gu Wan hurriedly asked Xie Ci.
Xie Ci pulled Xun Xun’s head over, roughly tore off his helmet, and held his face, examining it several times. Tilting his head, he said: “No mistake — this is Xun Xun.”
Gu Wan stepped forward at once. First she pressed the arrow wound in his chest, then checked his heartbeat and pulse, finally prying open his eyelids to test his pupils.
“Breathing, heart, and pulse have all stopped. Pupils dilated, no response to strong light.”
In this field, Gu Wan was exceptionally skilled. And with such a penetrating chest wound, survival was absolutely impossible. Even modern medicine could not save him, let alone here and now. So she was certain — this man was dead beyond doubt.
“He’s truly dead.”
The two exchanged a glance. The taut string in their hearts finally loosened. It seemed… this was real.
Xie Ci closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. In that instant, his expression was both laughter and tears. The heavy weight on his face finally gave way to a look that could only be called bittersweet — sorrow and joy mingled together.