boyutpedia Chapter 6 Tonight, let's leave no regrets.
Chapter 6 Tonight, let's leave no regrets.
Wei Zhao stared intently at Liu Jingshuang.
She is still alive.
Covered in blood, yet still killing.
The dulled blade remained ferocious in her hand.
He clenched his flanks, and the white horse neighed as it charged past the two corpses, its horseshoes shattering the blood and ice frozen on the ground.
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
Before Wei Zhao's mind could process what was happening, his body moved first.
No, it was the personal guards beside me who made the first move.
A pair of hands suddenly pushed him to the side, so hard that he almost fell off his horse.
A burning pain shot through my arm.
The arrow grazed his left arm, tearing the fabric of his sleeve and ripping through his flesh.
Blood streamed down his forearm, dripping onto the white horse's mane, a stark contrast to his appearance.
"Commander!"
The guard who had pushed him had already dismounted and was holding a shield in front of him, while the other three cavalrymen roared and rushed towards the direction from which the arrow had come.
Wei Zhao looked down at his arm.
The wound wasn't deep; the arrow had only grazed it, but the bleeding was quite alarming.
It really hurts.
What terrified him even more was that moment just now—if the guard had been a fraction of a second slower, the arrow wouldn't have pierced his arm.
He was riding his horse, at that height and angle, right up to his throat.
Oh shit.
Wei Zhao's hand trembled slightly.
It's not that I'm afraid, it's that the aftereffects are kicking in.
The feeling of weakness after the adrenaline subsides is like having a tendon pulled out from behind.
But it only shook for a moment.
He gripped the reins tightly, suppressing the palpitations in his heart.
You can panic inside, but not on your face.
With ten thousand eyes watching, if the commander shows weakness, the battle will be lost.
A short scream came from afar. The Northern Rong soldier who had fired the arrow was dragged out from behind the half-collapsed roof beam by his personal guards, and the tip of his spear pierced his chest.
Wei Zhao did not go to see it.
He turned to look at Liu Jingshuang.
Their eyes met from a distance of forty or fifty paces apart.
The blood on Liu Jingshuang's face was still wet, and she had some wounds on her body that were bleeding.
But her eyes—
Those usually cold and aloof phoenix eyes widened to their limit at this moment.
It wasn't anger, nor was it murderous intent.
It's fear.
Liu Jingshuang was afraid.
This woman, who killed without blinking an eye on the battlefield, turned pale the moment she saw the arrow graze Wei Zhao's arm.
What she feared was the symbol of Wei Zhao—the last male member of the Wei family, and the only legitimate name by which the Wei family held military power.
If he dies here, what difference does it make if these widows kill all the Northern Rong people?
After returning to the capital, his military power was still taken away, and his female relatives were still torn apart by the wolves in the court.
Wei Zhao must not die.
It's better for her to die than for herself.
Wei Zhao could sense what was in that gaze.
He gave a bitter smile to himself.
Well, in his sister-in-law's eyes, he's probably a walking safe of military power now; any bump or scratch would be a national-level loss.
But he did not hesitate.
He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, and raised his right hand towards Liu Jingshuang, waving it vigorously.
The meaning couldn't be clearer—it's nothing, just a superficial wound, you won't die.
Blood was still dripping from his left arm, staining his white sleeve a dark red.
But he was smiling like nothing had happened, and with the blood splattered on his face, he looked both pathetic and infuriating.
Liu Jingshuang stared at him for two seconds.
Then he withdrew his gaze, turned around, and with one stroke, cleaved the last Northern Rong soldier who had charged forward.
Clean and efficient, just like chopping melons and vegetables.
But the force of that strike was greater than any of the previous ones.
……
The remaining enemy forces were wiped out at Yanmen Pass in less than half an hour.
The remaining soldiers who stayed behind were scattered and disorganized; upon seeing the overwhelming banners of the Wei family army, they didn't even have time to run.
The main force of the Northern Rong had already withdrawn before the old lady's army arrived.
They came and went quickly; the steppe cavalry exploited a time difference—taking advantage of the death of the nine sons of the Wei family and the lack of a leader, they seized Yanmen Pass in one fell swoop.
It couldn't be taken down.
Liu Jingshuang led 30,000 cavalry to hold out for half a month, managing to prevent them from passing.
Although only less than 8,000 of the 30,000 men remained in the end, and the city gate was smashed, the pass was still standing.
This is enough.
……
Naval Base.
Although it is called the garrison headquarters, it is actually the largest stone house in Yanmen Pass, which was originally the living quarters of the general guarding the pass.
After the war, all the doors and windows were shattered and temporarily nailed up with wooden boards, leaving the house drafty.
Liu Jingshuang held a bowl of water and squatted down in front of Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao sat on a wooden stool with one leg missing, propped up with bricks. The sleeve of his left arm was torn open, revealing the wound caused by an arrow.
The flesh was rolled up and oozing blood, which looked quite frightening, but it wasn't deep.
Liu Jingshuang used a cloth dampened with water to wipe away the blood and grime around the wound.
The movement was very gentle, but when the cloth touched the exposed flesh, Wei Zhao still gasped.
"Bear with it."
Liu Jingshuang didn't even raise her head, her tone no different from when she was giving orders in the army.
Wei Zhao obediently shut his mouth.
He secretly observed Liu Jingshuang's expression.
The woman had her head down, her eyelashes obscuring her eyes, making it difficult to see her expression.
But her fingers, gripping the cloth, tightened slightly, and the scars on her knuckles turned white.
She turned the cloth over and examined the wound closely.
Then, he let out a breath.
"It wasn't poisoned."
When those three words were spoken, Wei Zhao clearly saw her shoulders relax slightly.
It was such a slight movement that you wouldn't have noticed it if you weren't so close.
Poisoning?
Wei Zhao recalled the ancient warfare materials he had seen in modern times—
Arrowheads were coated with horse manure and aconite juice; if someone hit one, they would either die or rot. These days, poisoning arrows was practically a basic practice.
If that arrow had been poisoned, he would probably be rolling on the ground by now.
A soft cough came from the corner.
The old lady sat in another chair, her iron cane leaning against the wall.
She remained silent, simply watching Liu Jingshuang treat Wei Zhao's wounds.
There was a faint smile on that wrinkled face.
What are you laughing at?
Wei Zhao had some doubts.
Liu Jingshuang took out a roll of clean cotton cloth and began to bandage him.
It went around three times and tied a neat knot.
"alright."
She stood up, carrying the bloody water, and was about to walk out.
"Shuang Jing".
The old lady spoke.
Liu Jingshuang stopped in her tracks.
"I have already ordered people to repair the city gates and reinforce the fortifications."
"Don't go to the military camp tonight, stay here and take care of Zhao'er."
That sounds normal. If the commander-in-chief is injured, it's perfectly reasonable for the most capable general to stay behind to protect him.
But Wei Zhao always felt that something was wrong.
Liu Jingshuang clearly felt something was wrong as well.
She paused, holding the basin of water, and turned to look at the old lady.
The old lady stood up, picked up her iron cane, and slowly walked towards the door.
He stopped as he passed by Liu Jingshuang.
He didn't look at her, his gaze was fixed on the crack in the door panel, as if he were talking about something very ordinary.
"When you married Zhan'er, you were married for ten years, but you rarely saw each other and didn't even have time to have a child."
"This is one of the things I regret most in my life."
Liu Jingshuang's body stiffened.
"The most important thing for the Wei family right now is to have an heir."
The old lady's voice wasn't loud, but each word struck the stone wall like a nail:
"With bloodlines, even if something unexpected happens, the Wei family will still have the resources to make a comeback."
She turned her head and glanced at Liu Jingshuang.
That glance didn't carry a command; it was more like a mother giving her last words of advice.
"This time, let's not have any regrets."
After saying that, the old lady leaned on her cane, stepped over the threshold, and went out.
The stone house suddenly became so quiet that only the crackling of firewood could be heard.
Wei Zhao was completely stunned.
He watched the old lady's figure disappear outside the door, then glanced at Liu Jingshuang who was standing still, his mind reeling.
The old lady meant...
It's not that he doesn't understand; it's that he's afraid to think in that direction.
But the facts are clear—the old lady wants him to share a room with Liu Jingshuang tonight.
It's not an implication, it's an explicit statement.
Wei Zhao's gaze fell on Liu Jingshuang's back.
She remained standing there, still holding the basin of bloody water.
His shoulders and back were taut, exactly the same posture as when kneeling before the spirit in the mourning hall.
After a while, Liu Jingshuang placed the basin of water on the ground.
She didn't turn around; her voice was muffled, as if squeezed out from between her teeth.
"Mother is right."
Just four words.
Then she turned around.
The light from the oil lamp illuminated her face, and Wei Zhao saw Liu Jingshuang's appearance outside the battlefield for the first time.
After the bloodstains were washed away, the features of that cold, hard face were actually quite soft.
She has long eyelashes, a straight nose, and her lips are a little chapped from long-term exposure to wind and sun, but they are still beautifully shaped.
At this moment, the murderous intent in those phoenix eyes, which had always held a murderous glint, had completely faded.
Instead, there was a barely perceptible sense of unease.
The blush of pink at the base of her ears spread down her neck, and under the lamplight, it was even more captivating than the sunset outside Yanmen Pass.