Back at the inn, the door closed softly behind them with a muffled sound, seemingly shutting out the chilling night wind of the border region, the lingering clamor of the streets, and the eerie atmosphere of shock, suspicion, and inexplicable allure they had experienced during the day.
Only an oil lamp remained in the room, its wick low, its dim yellow light barely dispelling a corner of darkness, yet illuminating the expressions on the three faces with ever-deepening intensity, mirroring the turbulent emotions within them.
No one spoke first; silence filled the small room, broken only by the howling wind outside the window.
Xie Ciyun, being young and impatient, abruptly sat down on the creaking wooden stool, grabbed the rough pottery teapot on the table, and, without even pouring it into a bowl, gulped down a large mouthful of cold, coarse tea.
The icy liquid slid down his throat, seemingly suppressing the pent-up excitement and astonishment in his chest.
He put down the teapot, hastily wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and broke the suffocating silence first, his voice trembling slightly with excitement, carrying an air of disbelief as if waking from a dream: “My God…
Commander Feng…
she…
she’s actually a woman!
Gu Anqi, Achen, can you believe it?
I always thought…
I always thought…” He stammered for a long time, the rest of the words stuck in his throat, his face flushed red, but he couldn’t say it.
Before this, who could have imagined?
The “Commander Feng,” who was like a god of war in legends, possessing supreme authority on the border, whose name could stop children from crying at night, would actually be…
such a person.
Not the bearded burly man he had imagined, nor the cunning veteran of the battlefield, but a…
young woman.
This realization alone was enough to overturn all his previous imaginations.
Gu An gazed at the moonlight filtering through the window, her knuckles unconsciously tracing the rim of her cup.
Her voice was low and steady, yet each word was clear, as if she were sorting through her chaotic thoughts: Yes, that Commander Wang, just because of that ‘trivial matter’ she mentioned—letting his leader escape—fell trembling before her, his clothes soaked with sweat, not daring to even lift his head.
General Wang’s absurd behavior was glossed over by her few words, only to elicit laughter from everyone in the hall.
He paused, turned around, and the dim light fell on his calm eyes, where deep thought lingered: “Not to mention, she was able to manipulate those Oirat merchants in the city who were clearly at odds with us, making them volunteer to be her weapons.
Under the guise of ‘internal affairs of the caravan,’ she skillfully resolved an imminent conflict without costing us a single soldier and may even have countered the mastermind behind it all.
This precise grasp and manipulation of people’s hearts, interests, and the situation is far more terrifying and…
far more skillful than simply charging into battle and capturing enemy generals.” He paused, his tone revealing deep contemplation: “This ability to understand people’s hearts is far more difficult than charging into battle.
It’s already difficult for a woman to gain a foothold in such a dangerous place as the border, yet she can manage a tent full of arrogant and fierce soldiers with ease…
Such cunning and control cannot be summarized by the word ‘brave.'” His voice echoed in the silent room, carrying a calm, analytical quality: “For a woman to gain a foothold in such a dangerous place as the border, surrounded by wolves and tigers, where strength reigns supreme, is already quite an achievement.
Yet she can make fierce generals like Yu He fear them like tigers, silence ruffians like Wang Da, and even manipulate external forces that are difficult to discern as friend or foe, managing a tent full of arrogant and fierce soldiers and complex relationships with ease, her words carrying the weight of law…
Such insightful understanding of the subtle and profound, such effortless control, cannot be summarized by the words ‘brave’ or ‘skilled in battle.
‘The legends we’ve heard before are perhaps just the tip of the iceberg.” Ah Chen raised his eyes from the shadows by the wall, his gaze sharp as a knife, yet his voice was calm: “Whether she’s a man or a woman is none of my concern.
Defending a city and killing is a skill; leading troops and controlling subordinates is an even greater skill.” He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking slightly.
“I only see that she can make people like Yu He fear, and she can also make people like Wang Da stupid.
This kind of ‘power’ is more elusive than swords, and…” He paused slightly, as if searching for the right words, “and it’s also more worthy of being seen clearly.” Without flowery language or complex analysis, Ah Chen used the most straightforward method to express his most genuine perception as a top martial artist—he didn’t care about appearances, only revered the true form of power.
And what Feng Qinghe displayed was a more complex and powerful “power of control” that transcended gender and mere martial prowess.
Silence fell again in the room, but the air seemed different than before.
A silent consensus flowed and coalesced among the three.
The “Phoenix Commander,” whom they had not yet deeply acquainted with, had broken free from the mythical veneer of the “Black Tiger War God” or “Iron-Blooded Divine Soldier,” becoming three-dimensional, profound, and increasingly unpredictable.
She was not merely a guardian of the border but a meticulous, skillful, and deeply shrewd ruler who understood human nature and power.
Seeking refuge with her might offer protection, but it would undoubtedly also mean stepping into a far more complex and intricate game of chess.
The next morning, before dawn, the crisp, cold air of the border region carried a chill.
The three had a simple breakfast in the inn’s lobby and were discussing how to reach the Seventh City where Commander Feng was located when an uninvited guest approached them.
The newcomer was a woman, dressed in dark red soft armor, with a long sword at her waist.
She moved with agility and exuded a crisp and decisive air.
Her face was not exceptionally beautiful, but her features were clear and her eyes were bright and spirited.
She walked straight to the table of three, clasped her hands in a salute, and said in a clear voice, “Young heroes, I am Hongzhu, the adjutant under Commander Feng.” Gu Anqi stood up to return the greeting, and Achen simply nodded slightly, while Xie Ciyun looked at her curiously.
Hongzhu didn’t mince words, getting straight to the point: “Commander Feng is busy with military affairs and rushed back to the marching camp last night.
He specifically instructed me to inform the three of you that you may proceed to the seventh city where the Feng residence is located.
There’s no need to rush on the road; you can travel at your leisure.
Although the border region of the Thirteen Alliances is not as prosperous as the Central Plains, it has its own scenery and several local delicacies worth trying.” Her words flowed smoothly, clearly prepared beforehand, conveying her meaning while also exuding the composure of a hostess.
After speaking, she paused deliberately on Gu Anqi’s face, her tone still steady but with a touch more emphasis, clearly stating, “Commander Feng specifically instructed that Mr.
Gu should feel at ease traveling and enjoying any city in the Thirteen Alliances.
She guarantees that no ‘demons and monsters’ will disturb your enjoyment or mood.” She spoke the words “demons and monsters” slowly and clearly, her gaze frank, as if she were simply stating a perfectly ordinary fact.
Having finished speaking, without waiting for Gu Anqi’s response or exchanging pleasantries, Hongzhu once again decisively clasped her hands in a fist salute: “The message has been delivered.
I must return to my camp to report.
Farewell.” She then turned and swiftly disappeared into the still-sleeping streets and alleys, leaving behind a faint dust and a trace of capable air.
Xie Ciyun immediately perked up, her face beaming with excitement: “Commander Feng is truly generous!
Not only did he not blame us for the trouble we might cause, but he also let us have a good time along the way!
Gu Anqi, Achen, we must explore this place thoroughly and try all the milk wine and roasted whole lamb that the waiter mentioned!” A faint smile slowly rose on Gu Anqi’s face, gentle and refined, yet it didn’t reach his eyes.
His gaze passed over Xie Ciyun’s excited face, thoughtfully landing on the increasingly bustling street outside the inn, as if trying to pierce through the rows of houses, looking directly northwest towards the place known as the “Seventh City.” This Commander Feng was indeed extraordinary.
With a single sentence, he had revealed Gu Anqi’s troubled situation and potential being tracked; he had also casually promised absolute safety within his sphere of influence.
This insight, this confidence, was less the behavior of a hospitable host and more a composed self-assurance based on absolute strength and control.
His slender fingers gently caressed the warm, rough earthenware cup, a turbulent current surging within him: In the territory of the Thirteen Alliances, perhaps he could indeed find temporary peace and avoid certain imminent threats.
However, this “peace” was by no means free; behind it lay the stepping into the other side’s rules, accepting their protection, and inevitably accompanied by their invisible scrutiny and…
possible exploitation.
There is no free lunch in the world, especially at the border.
Ah Chen stood with his arms crossed in the shadows by the door.
When Hong Zhu uttered those words, the temperature around him seemed to drop several degrees.
His gaze, sharp as a knife, slowly swept across the seemingly bustling and orderly streets outside the window, over the hawkers, the patrolling soldiers, and the flags embroidered with ferocious tiger heads fluttering atop the distant city walls.
His lips were pressed into a cold, straight line, devoid of any curve.
Guards?
Or omnipresent, suffocating surveillance?
This land, along with every brick and stone and every living being, seemed shrouded in the invisible yet omnipresent will of the female general, breathing her laws and following her order.
This absolute, penetrating sense of control instinctively made him feel repulsed and wary, like a beast stepping into the clearly marked territory of another powerful kin.
Yet, alongside this repulsion, a cold, almost defiant excitement quietly rose from the depths of his heart.
He wanted to see for himself, to test whether the supposedly impenetrable Thirteen Alliances were truly as impenetrable as they were said.
He abruptly straightened up from the doorframe, the movement swift and decisive, creating a slight gust of air.
A shadow swept across his sharply defined, chiseled jawline.
He ignored Gu Anqi and Xie Ciyun’s elation, uttering only a single, metallic word from his tightly pursed lips: “Walk.” As dawn broke, the last vestiges of night were dispelled.
The three settled their bill, led out their horses, and set off on the official road leading to the Seventh City.
Xie Ciyun rode ahead, full of enthusiasm, occasionally pointing in amazement at the peculiar rock formations along the roadside, and sometimes muttering about what delicacies they would try at their next stop.
Gu Anqi rode alongside, mostly listening with a smile, occasionally offering a gentle response, but his gaze subtly swept over the undulating mountains on both sides of the road, the fortified villages guarding strategic points, and the patrolling cavalry like moving black dots on the distant horizon.
Deep within his calm eyes lay an imperceptible scrutiny and assessment.
Achen remained silent at the forefront.
His riding posture was not particularly graceful, but it was exceptionally steady, his back straight as a spear, as if he were one with the warhorse beneath him.
His silhouette, as seen by the two behind him, resembled a drawn sword, yet to drink blood, silently measuring and probing the territory that belonged to Feng Qinghe, and with each firm step forward, silently announcing his arrival—whether as a seeker or as an intruder who needed to reassess the “hardness” of this land.
After traveling for about ten miles, the road wound its way up a higher slope.
At the top, overgrown with weeds, stood a weathered beacon tower built of massive stones, like a silent giant overlooking the surrounding plains.
Achen suddenly reined in his horse, which let out a low neigh and stopped.
He slowly turned his horse around and looked back.
The morning sun shone from the side, illuminating half of his face while the other half remained in shadow, his expression inscrutable.
In the distance, along the undulating mountain ridge at the edge of the horizon, similar beacon towers, like black fangs growing from the earth, are faintly visible on mountain peaks and passes in different directions.
“Three.” He suddenly spoke, his voice not loud but carrying the chilling cold of the frontier wind, clearly reaching the ears of the two people behind him.
Upon hearing this, Gu Anqi almost immediately understood what he meant.
He followed Achen’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Then, a clear understanding flashed across his bright eyes, mixed with deeper contemplation.
“From the moment we left the inn and led our horses on the road,” he continued calmly, as if stating a fact he had long anticipated, “we were already within their cross-view.” Xie Ciyun looked around blankly: “What three?
Achen, what are you counting?” No one answered him.
Ah Chen had already turned and continued walking, his steps becoming increasingly steady, as if each step was measuring this territory that belonged to Feng Qinghe and also silently announcing his arrival with his footsteps.