She stood at the end and the beginning of power, overlooking the torrents from where the great winds arose. The world changed with her thoughts, cause and effect arose and perished, the sun rose, the moon set, empires rose and fell, all dependent on her single thought.

And there was no one left standing before her.

This was the pinnacle, the supreme.

She couldn’t help but tremble, suddenly feeling an unprecedented sense of awe and an equally unprecedented loneliness.

At that moment, Yu Wanyin suddenly understood the meaning of being “a lonely monarch.” Perhaps everyone who reached the highest point had passed this crossroads. Whether they turned away or let go, they all released their tightly held hands and plunged into a vast emptiness.

But why her? Why did it have to be her, a lazy and weak office worker whose greatest pleasure was reading novels on the subway, who fell into this world and stood in this position?

This question should have been posed to sages, answered by ancient heroes. Yet, fate had thrust the answer sheet into her hands.

Since she had to answer…

Yu Wanyin suddenly smiled.

Her answer was: she wanted it all.

“General Lin,” Yu Wanyin said, “the emperor commanded you to obey me, correct?”

Lin Xuanying and the giants all froze.

Yu Wanyin forcing him to show loyalty in public meant that her upcoming orders were likely not going to be well-received.

Lin Xuanying looked down, meeting her gaze. Compared to when they first met, she was now pale and thin, with faint dark circles under her eyes.

Inexplicably, this only highlighted her features more vividly. Her raised eyebrows, crimson eye corners, and the faint curve at her lips were both enchanting and authoritative.

After what seemed like a long time, he knelt, saying, “I am willing to serve Your Majesty with all my strength.”

In the palace hall.

All the officials were silent with fear, only the bolder ones daring to glance up briefly.

Xiahou Bo’s wheelchair was beside the empty throne. He sat slouched, looking down at the assembly, “The emperor was harmed by the demon empress and is gravely ill, so he has commanded me to handle state affairs. Does anyone have matters to present?”

His appearance was truly terrifying, half his head wrapped in bandages—Northern Boat’s bullet had not only blown off one of his ears but also destroyed the surrounding skin, leaving permanent disfigurement.

More severe were his legs, wrapped tightly in bandages. Many had seen his legs crushed by falling rocks at the foot of Mount Bei, their shape distorted beyond recognition, the bones shattered into countless pieces.

To save his legs, the imperial physicians had been changed three times, and still, hope was slim. Moreover, those with some medical knowledge were concerned: such severe injuries could lead to septicemia and death.

Despite this, he persisted in attending court with a pale face and a sheen of sweat.

His lust for power was almost insane.

Perhaps he was a hidden madman, even crazier than Xiahou Dan.

But even those who knew he had usurped power dared not speak up—his rebel army still patrolled outside the hall, suppressing all resistance. Besides, three armies were on their way to the capital.

His grasp on power was only a matter of time; why risk their lives?

Xiahou Bo asked again, and a few senior officials nervously stepped forward, reporting trivial local matters.

Before he could respond, someone boldly said, “I have a matter to present.”

Li Yunxi stepped out of the ranks confidently.

At the foot of Mount Bei, just after the border troops had lifted the giant rock and dragged away Prince Duan’s crushed legs, the ground had begun to quake.

The earth shook, rocks split, and even the best-trained soldiers were thrown to the ground, hardly anyone remained standing.

In that chaos, Li Yunxi and others on the mountain miraculously survived. The soldiers chasing them were shaken off the mountain, while they clung to tree roots, avoiding disaster.

When they finally crawled down the mountain, both Xiahou Dan and Xiahou Bo were gone, only a few carriages seen hastily heading towards the palace, escorted by rebel soldiers.

Because of this, the ministers had a persistent question.

Li Yunxi voiced it, “Prince Duan, when will we be able to see the emperor?”

Xiahou Bo looked down at Li Yunxi, his gaze icy.

But Li Yunxi, who hadn’t feared Xiahou Dan, certainly wouldn’t fear him now, standing there with a look of courageous defiance.

After a few seconds, Xiahou Bo seemed to attempt a smile, only managing a twisted grimace with half his face, “I just said, the emperor is gravely ill and needs rest. Moreover, the demon empress is still at large, capable of causing chaos. For the emperor’s safety, I cannot allow suspicious people to see him.”

He emphasized “suspicious,” his gaze chilling as it swept over several ministers.

During the chaos at Mount Bei, officials instinctively fled to their chosen factions, revealing many hidden royalists.

Now, those targeted by his gaze shivered, lowering their heads even further.

Who could blame them for betting on the wrong side?

Xiahou Bo withdrew his gaze and lazily said, “I am curious, what pressing matter does Minister Li have that requires disturbing the emperor now?”

At this point, it was clear that if Li Yunxi persisted, he would be branded as a “supporter of the demon empress.”

Li Yunxi stared directly at Prince Duan, “I believe—”

“I believe the events at Mount Bei were highly suspicious, with many unresolved questions that need to be reported to the emperor.”

Yang Duojie walked up to stand beside Li Yunxi, “Condemning a nation’s empress based on the words of a single assassin?”

“Exactly,” Erlan followed, “Lord Yu, being the emperor’s uncle, was imprisoned without trial. By what law was this done?”

“Nonsense!” a supporter of Prince Duan shouted, “Prince, these people are causing trouble with ill intentions. They should be arrested and interrogated!”

Xiahou Bo squinted and raised his hand to the guards.

“Minister Jin is mistaken!”

A young official suddenly stepped forward, “Minister Li’s request to see the emperor concerns crucial state affairs that require his judgment. How can this be considered causing trouble?”

This man was among the royalists revealed at Mount Bei.

With him taking the lead, the other royalists exchanged glances, feeling a stirring of courage.

Seeing the murderous look in Prince Duan’s eyes, they realized it was too late to play it safe. Even if they kept their heads down now, a suspicious prince like Xiahou Bo would never let them rise again.

Better to fight than wait for death.

At this point, many were stirred to bravery. A usurper acting so brazenly—where was the justice?

One after another, over twenty people stood against Prince Duan’s supporters. Even those who didn’t speak raised their heads to stare directly at him.

Countless eyes bore into him, suddenly imposing.

Xiahou Bo seethed with hatred.

He could kill one or two, but with resistance in the city still unchecked, he couldn’t afford the consequences of killing dozens of senior officials.

He had to bide his time until the three armies arrived, then there would be no more worries.

He took a deep breath and said warmly, “Later today, when the emperor’s condition improves, he will naturally summon you all. Dismissed.”

As he spoke, he signaled the palace servants to push him away, his retreating figure somewhat desperate.

Li Yunxi and the others would not be placated by such vague promises.

After the court session, they led a group of young officials and knelt before Xiahou Dan’s palace.

The guards tried to drive them away, but Li Yunxi stood firm, “We are here praying for the emperor’s recovery and waiting for his summons.”

These were civil officials, posing as praying for the emperor. The guards dared not act violently and had to report to Prince Duan.

Whatever Xiahou Bo ordered, no one came to disperse them, leaving them kneeling in the cold wind.

By afternoon, the officials were swaying, even the robust Li Yunxi shivering. Erlan beside him looked pale and was about to collapse.

Li Yunxi glanced at the still-closed palace doors, debating whether to force his way in or return and try again the next day.

Just then, the palace doors opened, and a maid ran out along the corridor.

Li Yunxi squinted, feeling a bad premonition.

Soon, the maid returned with an elderly physician. The guards then closed the door, blocking their view.

After a while, Xiahou Bo himself arrived, looking stern, and was pushed inside. Li Yunxi and the others stood and called out, but he ignored them.

Li Yunxi turned to the guards, “Let us in.”

The guard replied, “We have orders not to let anyone in.”

Yang Duojie, trembling, stepped forward to negotiate. Before he could say much, a sharp wail came from inside.

Li Yunxi and the others pushed past the crying maids, squeezing into the inner chamber.

The physician knelt, and Prince Duan sat. On the bed lay someone, face pale, eyes closed in death.

Li Yunxi, refusing to believe it, examined the face three times before a loud roar filled his mind. He knew he had knelt, but his mind was blank.

How could this really be Xiahou Dan?

How could Xiahou Dan die so silently and miserably?

This wasn’t his fate, nor his death.

Prince Duan sat in his wheelchair, struggling to lean over and grasp Xiahou Dan’s hand, his face full of sorrow, “Rest

 assured, Your Majesty, I will take good care of the crown prince.”

Li Yunxi tasted blood; he had bitten his tongue. He looked up, glaring at Prince Duan.

Xiahou Bo, as if unaware, gracefully wiped his eyes with his sleeve, the undamaged half of his face still exuding elegance, “In these turbulent times, we cannot be without a ruler for even a day. Prepare for the crown prince’s ascension ceremony immediately. Come—”

“Yes!” came a thunderous response from outside the window, the force of it startling.

Xiahou Bo’s gaze passed over Li Yunxi, then drifted off, “Escort the ministers back to their residences to rest and prepare for mourning.”

Dong—dong—

The low toll of mourning bells echoed out of the capital, reverberating under the leaden sky.

Lin Xuanying received the news while on horseback. The death of the emperor couldn’t be concealed, causing an uproar within the ranks.

He was stunned for several moments, then quickly turned to look behind him—Yu Wanyin, disguised as his personal guard, was marching right behind him.

Her face was mostly obscured by armor, hiding any expression.

Lin Xuanying reined in his horse, slowing down to ride alongside her, but for the first time, he was unsure how to start.

Finally, he asked dryly, “How do you feel?”

Yu Wanyin: “It’s good news.”

Lin Xuanying: “?”

He glanced at Yu Wanyin with a bit of trepidation.

Yu Wanyin’s voice was calm, “If the body is real, Prince Duan has no leverage over us. If the body is fake, it means he hasn’t found the emperor, and he still has no leverage. Either way, we can proceed with our plan.”

Lin Xuanying tried to piece it together, “But what if the body is fake, and the emperor is still in Prince Duan’s hands, held as a trump card?”

“Impossible,” Yu Wanyin shook her head calmly, “Now that the whole world knows the emperor is dead, and the news came from him, who would believe it if he later produced an emperor? He wouldn’t take that risk.”

Lin Xuanying was alarmed, “Wouldn’t you recognize him?”

“I would, but Prince Duan wouldn’t trust that I would. He is inherently cold and distrustful; he believes everyone is like him. He wouldn’t gamble on human nature. I understood this when formulating the plan.”

Yu Wanyin’s plan was simple but brutal: Prince Duan was eager to meet with the three armies’ leaders and would inevitably do so. Lin Xuanying just needed to wait until then, then kill everyone present. With the leaders dead, the remaining forces would naturally collapse.

If the other two armies were still hostile afterward, the Right Army could wipe them out.

Lin Xuanying initially wanted to act before Prince Duan could suspect anything, thinking in terms of cold weapons and not considering the overwhelming lethality of modern firearms, which granted them unlimited tactical freedom.

What if Prince Duan suspected something? What if he set up defenses? Unless he developed bulletproof armor, it would all be futile.

This plan, if they could capture the leaders, would minimize casualties. Delaying the action also gave them more time to search for Xiahou Dan, ensuring he wouldn’t be in danger.

But this “good news” from the capital…

Lin Xuanying glanced worriedly at her.

Yu Wanyin was too calm, unnaturally so.

He wanted to discuss the possibility of the body being real, but she spoke first, “Since the emperor isn’t in Prince Duan’s hands, we must find him quickly.”

Lin Xuanying: “…”

She refused to consider the possibility that the body was real.

Yu Wanyin not only refused to discuss it but also refused to think about it.

If she opened that valve, her thoughts would stall, and she would lose control of her limbs.

A voice seemed to urge her: don’t stop, don’t think of him, keep moving forward.

She knew she was hanging by a thread. She couldn’t let it snap here because there was something she had to accomplish.

After a day’s march, the army set up camp.

Lin Xuanying assigned Yu Wanyin a separate tent, still guarded by Twelve and Forty-seven.

She also had a new little follower—the mute girl. After entering Peiyang, Yu Wanyin intended to pay the girl and part ways, but the girl indicated she wanted to stay and work.

Stealing was too hard; she wanted to quit.

Yu Wanyin hesitated but remembered the girl had numerous chances to turn her in and never did. She seemed not inherently evil. Besides, having a female attendant in the army had its conveniences, so she kept the girl as her maid.

The mute girl was clever and quick. As soon as the tent was up, she had Yu Wanyin’s bed ready and even brought a hot water bottle for warmth.

Yu Wanyin, still suffering from a cold, hugged the warm bottle and sighed with relief, deciding not to ask where it came from.

She thought she would be sleepless, but fatigue overtook her, and she soon lost consciousness.

In the middle of the night, someone woke her.

The mute girl squatted in front of her, holding a fire stick, her face alert, gesturing for her to listen carefully.

Yu Wanyin forced herself awake, hearing only the wind and snow outside.

Yu Wanyin: “What’s the matter…”

She paused mid-sentence. Amidst the wind, there was a faint commotion, a noise of voices. But before she could discern it, the noise abruptly stopped.

She pushed aside the covers and took the fire stick from the mute girl.

If something had gone wrong, why hadn’t Lin Xuanying sent word? Why hadn’t Twelve and Forty-seven alerted her?

Suspicious, she extinguished the fire stick. The tent was divided by a curtain for privacy; the two shadow guards were on the other side keeping watch.

She quietly lifted the curtain. As expected, the shadow guards were gone.

She peered outside into the swirling snow.

The camp was quiet, not as if under attack. Not far away, the main command tent’s light flickered.

Before she reached it, the door flap opened, and Lin Xuanying stepped out, speaking to someone inside, “Wait, I’ll go ask—Lady!” He nearly bumped into Yu Wanyin, his agility saving him from a collision, “…Why are you awake?”

Yu Wanyin: “I’m looking for my shadow guards.”

Lin Xuanying blinked, “They’re missing? Don’t worry, I’ll have someone find them. It’s cold, come inside.”

He found her a blanket, “Sit. Why did you come out dressed like this? Here, have some hot tea…”

Though he said he would send someone to find the shadow guards, he made no move to do so.

Yu Wanyin scrutinized him, not touching the tea, her eyes subtly scanning the tent. It was also divided by a curtain, separating another space. What was back there, guns and ammunition, or something else?

Lin Xuanying sat across from her, seemingly lost in thought, sipping his tea, “Wanyin, I need to ask you again.”

For the first time since their reunion, he called her by name.

His expression was serious, “We’re almost at the capital. Once there, there’s no turning back. If you want to leave, this is your last chance. I can take you to a safe place where you can live your life… You don’t have to bear this burden.”

His eyes shone brighter than the candle, watching her intently.

But this question seemed out of place. Yu Wanyin’s mind was focused on: who was he talking to just now? Where were the shadow guards?

“I don’t bear the burden…” She smiled, “Who will, then? You?”

Lin Xuanying’s eyes dimmed, “I’ve said I’m not interested.”

“Then who?”

Lin Xuanying: “.”

Yu Wanyin asked casually, but seeing his calm face, she suddenly paused.

“Then who?” she repeated, “Is there another leader here?”

Lin Xuanying blinked.

His gaze drifted to the other side of the tent.

Yu Wanyin leaped up, nearly knocking over the lamp.

Lin Xuanying seemed to want to catch her, but she stumbled to the curtain and yanked it aside.

Xiahou Dan smiled at her, “Long time no see.”

In the dim candlelight, wrapped in fur and seated by a stove, his face was pale, almost ghostly. The draft from the curtain fluttered the light, casting shadows over him, half-hidden in darkness, his long hair loose, his aura menacing.

Yu Wanyin: “…Where have you been?”

Xiahou Dan spoke calmly, “As Ah Bai said, if you want to leave, now is your last chance.”

Yu Wanyin took another step forward, catching a faint scent of blood, “What happened on the way? Where is Uncle Bei?”

Xiahou Dan ignored her, “Did you read the letter?”

Yu Wanyin’s heart burned with anger, “Shut up and answer my question!”

“It seems you’ve read it. Since you know everything, you can think it over before making a choice…”

“Slap,” Yu Wanyin slapped him across the face.

Xiahou Dan’s head turned, remaining still for a long time.

Yu Wanyin’s chest heaved, “So, you came back but hid from me, sending Ah Bai to dismiss me.”

Lin Xuanying: “…”

Lin Xuanying peeked around the curtain, “I’ll step out.”

Neither of them responded.

Lin Xuanying quietly left.

Yu Wanyin’s voice grew colder, “Do you really think, at a time like this, I would just walk away?”

Xiahou Dan finally moved, slowly turning his head to look at her, his eyes flickering weakly, “No…no woman has ever dared to hit me.”

Yu Wanyin: “?”

Yu Wanyin, still seething with anger, raised her hand again.

Xiahou Dan shrank his head back but persisted in finishing his thought, “You have caught my attention.”

Yu Wanyin, her fury suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon, found herself at a loss for an appropriate reaction.

However, Xiahou Dan’s eyes glinted with a trace of amusement as he reached out to tug at her sleeve, “Calm down.”

Yu Wanyin shook off his hand.

Xiahou Dan: “.”

Yu Wanyin grabbed the collar of his fur robe and yanked it off, then started to remove his inner garments.

Xiahou Dan dodged slightly, “Are you always this passionate after a long separation…?”

Yu Wanyin ignored his teasing, quickly pulling his clothes open, revealing his skin beneath. The source of the faint scent of blood became clear.

Xiahou Dan had no weapon-inflicted wounds, but his body was covered in bruises and scratches, crisscrossing over his skin. His flesh was torn, and scabs overlapped with fresh wounds that were still oozing blood.

Yu Wanyin grabbed his wrist and lifted his sleeve, as expected, seeing it marked with bloody bite marks.

She turned her head as if burned, gritting her teeth, “You had an attack on the way?”

Xiahou Dan: “Yes.”

That was why he hadn’t been able to reach Peiyang on time as planned.

At the foot of Mount Bei, during the chaos caused by the earthquake, the severely injured Bei Zhou had carried him, with the help of a group of shadow guards, to break through the siege.

After shaking off their pursuers, Bei Zhou stopped, handed Xiahou Dan to the shadow guards, and, after giving him a deep look, walked away alone on a different path.

He left without a word, so Xiahou Dan didn’t know if he was worried about slowing them down or if he chose to part ways after learning Xiahou Dan’s true identity.

Later, thanks to the shadow guards’ sacrifices, they narrowly escaped death several times. Just as Peiyang was in sight, Xiahou Dan’s poison flared up.

This attack was fierce, worse than before. Xiahou Dan lost his mind after just a short time. He had no memory of his actions during the agony and madness.

At first, the shadow guards dared not bind him, but when they couldn’t stop him from self-harm and feared the noise would attract enemies, they had to tie him up and hide him.

When he awoke from his coma, two days and nights had passed. By then, Lin Xuanying had already led the army out of Peiyang.

Xiahou Dan contacted Lin Xuanying to confirm Yu Wanyin’s safety. But he himself was too weak, and showing himself to the Right Army would have shaken their morale. So he waited until nightfall before Lin Xuanying’s trusted aides brought him to the camp.

“I wanted to see you secretly first… hiss.” Xiahou Dan broke off, inhaling sharply, “Gently.”

Yu Wanyin was reapplying his medicine. She flinched at his words, “Does it hurt?”

Realizing the absurdity—this man had endured excruciating pain for years—would he truly complain about these minor injuries?

Yet Xiahou Dan, with a shameless smirk, said, “A bit, maybe you could blow on it?”

Yu Wanyin, at her limit, looked directly at him and asked, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Hm?”

“You deliberately made me angry and then let me discover your injuries?”

Xiahou Dan: “.”

Xiahou Dan: “Yes.”

Yu Wanyin lowered her gaze, applying the medicine carefully, then fetched warm clothes from the stove, draping them over him gently. In a low voice, she asked, “You sent Ah Bai to fetch me, intending to make me suspicious and come to find you, didn’t you?”

Xiahou Dan looked down, “Yes.”

Yu Wanyin felt a sudden pang of sorrow, “What do you want? You’ve hidden things from me for so long, then sent me off to escape alone, leaving a letter confessing everything…and now you appear before me, asking if I want to leave… What do you really want?”

Xiahou Dan didn’t answer.

As she got up, Xiahou Dan’s fingers gently grasped her wrist.

In the flickering candlelight, a glimmer finally appeared in his dark eyes.

Yu Wanyin shivered from the cold.

His loose grip tightened abruptly, causing her real pain for the first time.

Xiahou Dan looked up at her, his forced smile and the usual gentle haze in his eyes vanished, replaced by a raw, unfiltered truth.

Like a scorpion raising its stinger, or a wolf baring its fangs, this calculating emperor faced her without any masks, only naked, blood-soaked honesty.

He didn’t speak, yet everything was clear: of course, this was all part of his plan. Using himself as bait, crafting a meticulous, cruel trap—his finest and most ruthless strategy.

Yu Wanyin should have felt discomfort, yet she found a strange clarity. She didn’t struggle, instead lifting her free hand to touch his lips.

The cruel emperor closed his eyes and kissed her palm.

“I want you to love me.”

Lin Xuanying endured a tough night.

Initially worried they’d argue, he eavesdropped outside the tent. When the sounds inside took a different turn, he left in a daze, cursing under his breath.

Returning, he signaled his trusted aides to tighten security.

With Xiahou Dan occupying his tent, he had nowhere to go, so he roused his subordinates for a late-night meeting, keeping them up half the night.

Before dawn, Lin Xuanying returned to the command tent, loudly clearing his throat outside, “Did the emperor and empress sleep well?”

Inside, there was a rustling sound, and soon Yu Wanyin emerged, fully dressed, sleepy, and tired, “Thank you.”

Lin Xuanying thought: if she’s like this, the injured one must be even worse off.

But Xiahou Dan followed her out, looking refreshed, with a faint hint of color returning to his face. Compared to his half-dead state last night, he now seemed revitalized.

Lin Xuanying: “…”

He didn’t want to know how they spent the night.

Lin Xuanying, looking haggard, said, “What are your plans now? I need your instructions.”

Before dawn, as the army set out, two unremarkable guards were added to the supply wagons carrying guns and ammunition.

Xiahou Dan decided to follow Yu Wanyin’s plan and continue lying low, meeting only with Lin Xuanying’s trusted aides. He needed to recover quickly so he could rally the troops when the time came.

Yu Wanyin naturally stayed with him.

The shadow guards rode ahead, the wagons trundled along. Inside, they made the space as comfortable as possible for the two.

Xiahou Dan peered out at the silent soldiers, speaking softly, “You should stay in Peiyang. Once the capital is stabilized…”

“Not a chance.” Yu Wanyin flatly refused, “I won’t let you get away with it a second time.”

Xiahou Dan looked at her, half-sighing, half-smiling, “Wanyin… don’t you want to see the world?”

“The world will still be there, it can wait.” Yu Wanyin replied lightly, “After we have a child, and they can handle things on their own, we’ll retire and travel together.”

Xiahou Dan paused, “Alright.”

Both were serious, though they knew this was just a fleeting dream.

—Xiahou Dan’s chance of surviving the next poison attack was slim.

That’s why he had to take advantage of his clear mind to settle matters and pave the way for the future.

Yu Wanyin staying now was a heavier promise: she would take over his burden.

Long before she arrived, he had poured his heart and soul, spent years burning himself out. If she let this flame die, it would erase his existence’s meaning.

So she couldn’t leave. She would ensure peace and stability for a long time.

Snow fell intermittently, and Lin Xuanying, fearing the two sickly occupants would catch a cold, stuffed the carriage with blankets and heaters.

The carriage, warm and cramped, felt like a burrow, the two nestled together, with little to do but chat intermittently.

The atmosphere was warm but awkward.

For the first time, they realized that despite sharing life and death, they were only just getting to know each other.

The recent conversation had been started by Yu Wanyin, “You don’t know my real name yet.”

Xiahou Dan: “No, I was always too guilty to bring it up. What is it?”

Yu Wanyin: “…Wang Cuihua.”

Xiahou Dan: “?”

Xiahou Dan: “Your parents didn’t hold back.”

“Thanks.”

After a pause, Yu Wanyin couldn’t help but laugh, “I didn’t expect you to be a middle schooler. This sister-brother relationship is hard to accept…”

Xiahou Dan’s face darkened, “We might not have an age difference.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spent over ten years in the book. We might not have come at the same time. To be honest, when

 you talked about the outside world, some new terms were unfamiliar to me. So I always suspected—”

Yu Wanyin paused, remembering Xie Yong’er’s reaction to “maglev tube.” She had suspected then that *The Devil’s Favorite Concubine* was an old work.

Yu Wanyin: “What year did you arrive?”

“2016.”

Yu Wanyin was stunned: “I arrived in 2026.”

Xiahou Dan looked incredulous: “You said this story was pushed to your phone? How could such a bad novel stay popular for ten years?”

In any case, this news finally made Yu Wanyin give up hope of returning to her original world.

She had hoped that after their souls left, their real bodies would still be lying in a hospital as vegetative patients, and that one day in the future, they could wake up and reunite in reality.

But now, seeing that Zhang San had been out for ten years, the possibility of him still being alive was very slim.

Xiahou Dan, on the other hand, hadn’t even considered that direction. He was still focused on a serious issue: “So, it’s not a sister-brother relationship, right?”

“Well—” Yu Wanyin deliberately drew out her voice.

“Hm?”

“I don’t know.” Yu Wanyin touched his chin, “Why don’t you call me sister first and let’s hear it.”

The carriage suddenly jolted, as if it had hit a stone. At the same time, there was a faint whistling sound outside, followed by the swift draw of a shadow guard’s sword.

Xiahou Dan’s eyes turned cold. Reacting quickly, he shielded Yu Wanyin and pulled her down behind the box containing the guns. Only then did he ask, “What happened?”

The shadow guard replied hurriedly, “Nothing serious, just some refugees causing trouble.”

“Refugees?”

The shadow guard’s tone was somewhat complicated: “The local people, perhaps mistaking us for the rebel army, hid behind trees and threw stones at us. They’ve been driven away.”

As the Right Army had marched along, although the local people didn’t dare directly confront them, they had shown their disdain in various small ways, like rolling their eyes and spitting.

Many people still remembered the benefits of Xiahou Dan’s light taxes and didn’t believe Prince Duan’s propaganda about the demon empress and foolish emperor. Now, hearing of Xiahou Dan’s sudden death, they were convinced that Prince Duan was seizing power by force.

So when they saw an army heading towards the capital, they naturally showed no respect, with the bolder ones even throwing stones.

Yu Wanyin, understanding the situation, looked complicated: “In a way, it’s kind of touching.”

Xiahou Dan also smiled: “It’s all thanks to the empress.”

Before she arrived, his strength was only enough to fight to the death with the empress dowager and Prince Duan.