Chapter 53

It did not take Bu Nian long to break through Fenglei Fort. Even at Tianfu Temple, the elites among the rebels had failed to resist the Bu family’s army. These ragtag outlaws stood even less of a chance.

He charged the mountain with fury. The moment the gates were broken open, he surged ahead at the front of the line. Anyone who dared stand in his way was cut down on the spot. He carried an aura of divine slaughter, as though possessed by a blood-soaked asura. None dared to approach him.

Bu Nian’s forces came with overwhelming momentum. The people inside the fort, sensing their doom, began to scatter and flee. Their morale had already been fragile. The sight of imperial troops sent them into a panic. Before Bu Nian even had to strike again, they had collapsed in fear and fled without a fight.

“Where is Qian Zeliang?” Bu Nian seized one of the guards and dragged him to his feet.

The man trembled so badly he could barely speak. His face had gone pale, as if he might faint at any moment.

“In… in the hall…” he stammered, pointing shakily in one direction.

Bu Nian tossed him aside and left him to a nearby soldier, then strode swiftly toward the place the man had indicated.

Those who dared touch his bottom line would pay a hundredfold. It had always been this way.

Qian Zeliang had never imagined Bu Nian would strike so quickly. He and Feng Zhang had been drinking, their heads still spinning when they saw the flames blazing across the compound. The shock sobered them instantly.

He barely managed to draw his blade. When he looked up, the courtyard was already a mess of clashing figures. In that instant, he understood that his fort had fallen. Without the mountain’s natural defenses, he stood no chance against Bu Nian.

It was only now that Qian Zeliang had no choice but to admit that he had been arrogant and blind to his own limits. The Qian family’s previous resurgence had only been possible because their foundation had remained intact. But this time, with Bu Nian’s attack on Fenglei Fort, everything had been destroyed. Even if he survived, there would be no fuel left to burn.

He looked out at the fort he had built with his own hands. Now it lay in ruins, corpses strewn across the ground. Shock, rage, and despair surged through him in waves. He had not yet figured out what to do next when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a figure swiftly closing in. His flood of emotions instantly gave way to dread.

It was Bu Nian, the one who had been hunting him down.

Blade in hand, he came like the wind, giving Qian Zeliang no room to breathe. Sword raised, he struck with deadly force, his attacks so fast and varied they blurred before the eye.

Qian Zeliang could not match him. Within moments, he was forced into retreat under the onslaught.

The Qian family had earned their name through the Wind and Thunder Palm. Qian Zeliang was never skilled with a blade, but he was full of tricks. Seeing he could not win in open combat, he began resorting to underhanded tactics.

He noticed that whenever the glare of his blade reflected into Bu Nian’s eyes, the man would flinch, turning his head slightly and slowing just enough. That gave him an idea. In the clashes that followed, he began deliberately angling the blade to reflect light into Bu Nian’s eyes. It was a despicable tactic.

Ever since taking the Fentian poison, Bu Nian’s vision had never fully recovered. In low light, his eyes were especially sensitive. The moment a flash of glare struck him, he reflexively narrowed his eyes. In the next instant, he heard the wind of a palm strike rushing toward him. He narrowly avoided it.

After Qian Zeliang repeated this trick several times, Bu Nian’s killing intent only deepened.

He shut his eyes completely and relied on sound alone to track his opponent. His strikes grew fiercer and faster.

Qian Zeliang had not expected Bu Nian to be this formidable. Even without sight, his blade remained just as fast. Before long, Qian Zeliang’s hand went numb from the shock of each clash. Death crept closer with every breath. Then, with a sudden flick, Bu Nian disarmed him, sending his weapon flying through the air.

Pain flared in Qian Zeliang’s wrist. He clutched at the injury, panic written all over his face.

Bu Nian kept his eyes closed. His sword fell straight from above, slicing down from the top of Qian Zeliang’s head, leaving a thin line of blood.

Qian Zeliang froze, the expression on his face still locked in the final moment before death. A breath later, his body tipped backward and collapsed onto the ground, lifeless.

Lian Ai and Zuo Lingyu had just arrived at the foot of the mountain when Helian Qiufeng, who had been waiting for some time, spotted them.

Seeing that both were covered in wounds, Helian Qiufeng quickly had them brought back to camp and ordered medics to treat them.

While his injuries were being tended, Lian Ai kept glancing quietly at Zuo Lingyu. The man sat in silence, allowing the soldiers to dress his wounds without so much as a flinch. There was no light in his eyes, only a bleak emptiness, as though he had already lost all reason to care.

Lian Ai looked away and sighed inwardly. He did not speak. He knew neither how to comfort him, nor whether any words would even be welcome.

Just as his own wounds were being wrapped, voices rose outside the tent.

“The general has returned!”

“A sweeping victory! Complete triumph!”

Lian Ai shot up from his stool and rushed toward the entrance. As he stepped outside, he saw, under the glow of the torches, Bu Nian riding into camp with something round and heavy dangling from his hand.

Bu Nian dismounted and tossed the bloodied bundle in his hand to a nearby soldier, then strode toward Lian Ai.

Lian Ai stood rooted to the spot, watching him come closer with each step. When there were only three steps left between them, he could no longer hold himself back. He rushed forward and threw himself into Bu Nian’s arms.

Both of them were in a wretched state. One covered in wounds, the other soaked in blood. But none of it mattered. In their hearts, there was only each other. All they wanted was to feel the presence of the one they had nearly lost.

Bu Nian held Lian Ai tightly against his chest. With his eyes closed, he said, “It seems I will have to forge a pair of shackles just for you, to keep you chained to my side.”

The scent of blood filled Lian Ai’s nose. Bu Nian’s armor was cold and hard, and it was not a comfortable embrace. But in that moment, it brought him peace.

“Then don’t send me away again, please?” Lian Ai’s cheek pressed against Bu Nian’s chest, his eyes brimming with tears. The relief of having survived clung to his voice. “From now on, wherever you go, I will go.”

Bu Nian did not reply. He only tightened his arms around him, as if he wished to fuse him into his own flesh.

That night, after wiping out Fenglei Fort, Bu Nian did not return to the capital. Instead, he led his troops toward Zhongzhou.

—

Lady Helian had not been able to eat or sleep since Lian Ai was taken. She wept constantly, and when she received his handwritten letter along with the peace-lock he always wore, she nearly fainted with grief.

Later, when Helian Qiufeng went to deliver the ransom, she lived in dread day and night, afraid that when she opened her eyes again, her beloved Xiao Ai would be gone.

Master Helian paced the room anxiously, his limp echoing in every step. Lady Helian sat on the couch, wiping away tears.

“My poor Xiao Ai… It is your mother’s fault. I failed to protect you… Why must your life be filled with so much suffering…”

Perhaps it was a mother’s instinct. When something happened to her child, she blamed herself before anything else. Or perhaps it was this incident with Lian Ai that triggered something in her memory, reminding her of the moment her real youngest son had died. Over the past few days, Fang Yuan had stayed by Lady Helian’s side, offering what comfort she could. She had carried a thread of guilt in her heart, and seeing Lady Helian so stricken made her feel even worse.

She dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief and said in a hoarse voice, “Elder Brother has gone to deliver the ransom. Please don’t worry, Aunt. Second Brother is kind-hearted and blessed. He will come back safely.”

Lady Helian nodded, choking on her words. “Yes, yes. Xiao Ai is such a good boy… he would never leave his mother behind…”

Fang Yuan gently patted her back to help steady her breathing.

The candle on the table flickered suddenly, without any wind. In the next instant, the steward burst in through the door, panting as he called out, “They’re back. The young masters are both back!”

Old master Helian, leaning on his cane, rushed out the door. Fang Yuan supported Lady Helian from behind as the three of them hurried toward the front gate.

Fang Yuan had assumed Helian Qiufeng had delivered the ransom and exchanged it for Lian Ai. But when she and Lady Helian reached the gates and saw several armored men standing there, she began to feel uncertain.

It didn’t take long before she spotted Helian Ai. A tall, imposing man in black armor stood by a horse, carefully helping him down. He held him with particular care, one hand steady at his waist as if afraid he might fall.

When they drew closer, she heard Master Helian speak respectfully to the man. “Greetings, Grand General.”

Fang Yuan’s eyes widened in surprise. That man was the famed Grand General… Bu Nian?

Lian Ai’s injuries were all external, but still serious enough that he needed rest. Since Bu Nian also required time to recover, they both stayed temporarily at the Helian residence. Zuo Lingyu had nowhere else to go, and with Bu Nian’s promise still unfulfilled, he too remained at the estate.

Zuo Lingyu’s return brought both joy and surprise to Lady Helian. But she quickly noticed he had changed. He avoided people, always kept to himself, and would not let anyone look closely at him. She assumed his mood had worsened due to injuries and did not press him further.

From Bu Nian, Lian Ai learned of Zuo Lingxue’s death, and the bargain Bu Nian had made with Zuo Lingyu. The news startled him and left him deeply uneasy.

“You’re really going to let him take away the children of Gan Yan and Zuo Lingxue?”

These two children were born to traitors. They would never be truly accepted by the imperial family. Letting Zuo Lingyu raise them at least meant they would grow up with someone who cared for them. Still..

“What if one day she wants to meet her brother? Or take him away?” That would surely stir up trouble all over again.

Bu Nian let out a sharp laugh. “Who knows what may happen by then? Maybe they’ll grow up wanting revenge. Maybe they’ll be raised well and live quiet, ordinary lives. Everyone has their own fate. You and I can’t predict any of it.”

Lian Ai said nothing more. He simply leaned quietly against his chest.

A few days later, a mysterious carriage stopped at the side gate of the Helian estate. Not long after, a plain-looking woman in simple clothing stepped down, carrying a tightly wrapped infant in her arms.

She was one of the Bu family’s twelve deathsworn. Her name was Fuling. This time, she had come to carry out a task given to her by Bu Nian.

She entered the estate cautiously. When she finally met with Bu Nian, she handed the child into his arms.

The infant girl was remarkably well-behaved. Though born before her time, she was healthy in every way. She never cried or fussed, her features delicate and fair. She was a truly lovely child.

Lian Ai watched her from the side and smiled. “She’s already so pretty. She’ll grow up to be a beauty.”

Bu Nian, on the other hand, felt that all infants looked the same. Their features were all wrinkled. He could not see what was beautiful about it.

He handed the child to Zuo Lingyu. “Will you leave now, or in a few days?”

Zuo Lingyu took the baby in his arms. She was light, yet for some reason, she felt heavy. These past few days had passed in a haze. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his father’s face, his sister’s face, and even Feng Zhang’s face.

His heart felt numb, like a pool of stagnant water. It seemed as though his life would never hold color again, only a long stretch of bleak days ahead.

But just now, as he held the soft little infant and watched her sleep so peacefully, a strange warmth spread through him. His frozen limbs thawed. Something inside him softened.

His world gained color again. He saw hope.

Zuo Lingyu chose to leave immediately. Bu Nian had prepared silver notes and a carriage to take him out of the city.

Just as he was stepping into the carriage with the child in his arms, Lian Ai called out to him.

“Xiaoyu, take care.” He had a feeling that this might be the last time they would ever meet.

Zuo Lingyu lowered his gaze but did not look back. He heard Lian Ai’s farewell, yet gave no reply. After a brief pause, he stepped into the carriage without turning his head.

Lian Ai stood there and watched as the carriage slowly rolled away. It grew smaller and smaller until it vanished from sight, leaving him with a lingering sense of melancholy.

Bu Nian wrapped an arm around his waist and gave a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go back.”

Lian Ai turned to him with a soft smile and nodded firmly. “Alright.”

They had only taken a few steps when Bu Nian spoke again. “After I return to the capital and report for duty, we will set out for Jiangnan.”

Now that everything had been settled, it was time for him to fulfill the promise he had made to Lian Ai.

Lian Ai’s smile deepened. His eyes curved into crescents. “Okay.”

He quietly reached for Bu Nian’s hand. When he received no resistance, he boldly intertwined their fingers.

“You still owe me many journeys.”

When they first met, neither of them could have imagined that one day their lives would become so closely bound. But fate has its mysteries. It draws together those who once seemed worlds apart, leading them to sacrifice, devotion, and unshakable resolve.

Lian Ai used to say that he and Bu Nian were like clouds and mud. What he did not know was that even clouds could turn to rain, fall from the sky, and merge with the mud below. Once they met, they would never part again.

—End of Main Story—