Bai Fanlu faintly heard a voice, a voice that was both unfamiliar and somehow slightly familiar.

It seemed to be saying… “I will find you.”

He suddenly woke up, realizing that he had fallen asleep without even noticing.

It was unclear how much time had passed. He could no longer see the sun rise or set. Ever since arriving at this unknown place, he had been tirelessly painting a vast landscape.

Fortunately, the brush hadn’t touched the canvas, or it would have been ruined.

Bai Fanlu let out a sigh of relief, feeling a dull ache in his brow. He massaged it with his fingers and prepared to pick up the brush again.

But the voice from earlier left him feeling uneasy. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease in his heart. Who could be looking for him? Could it be Mu Yunhe?

That voice… it didn’t seem like his…

Bai Fanlu suddenly felt uncertain.

He recalled that day when he was brewing medicine in the military doctor’s tent, and someone suddenly entered. He thought it was a soldier and asked if they were feeling unwell. The person replied and walked over.

Just as Bai Fanlu was about to take their pulse, a sharp pain struck the back of his neck, and then everything went dark.

When he woke up, he was in this place. Every day, he was served by servants, his clothing and meals meticulously arranged. The fabrics he wore were of the finest quality, the kind only found in prosperous lands, not in the harsh conditions of the southern barbarians.

So, who had attacked him? Where was he now? None of this was clear.

The only thing he was told was that once he finished painting the vast landscape, the “master” would come to see him.

And this vast landscape was the very painting Bai Fanlu had been working on in Mu Wangfu before joining the army. To continue the original painting, the “master” even sent a painter to assist him for two days.

This greatly puzzled Bai Fanlu. How did the other party know about the painting he was working on in Mu Wangfu? Who exactly were they?

The people serving him were tight-lipped, and he couldn’t get any answers.

When Bai Fanlu pondered ways to force the mastermind to reveal themselves, any small movement on his part would immediately be met with a warning, clearly indicating that many people were watching him.

The “master” even emphasized that the painting must be completed with the same dedication as the original. Any shortcuts would require him to start over.

Bai Fanlu had no choice but to finish the painting as quickly as possible.

Days passed, and he would only take brief naps when utterly exhausted, painting day and night. His efforts paid off, and he was finally nearing completion.

But the brief moment of sleep earlier left him feeling inexplicably stifled, and the haunting voice echoed in his mind. No matter how many times he tried to put his brush to paper, he couldn’t find the right inspiration. He decided to step outside for some fresh air.

Since arriving here, he had never gone outside. Although the maidservants had told him there was a bamboo grove in the courtyard and that the “master” didn’t want him cooped up indoors all the time, he had never visited it.

The courtyard under the midnight moon was particularly quiet. Indeed, there was a bamboo grove, and the wind rustled through the leaves, creating a soft sound. Bai Fanlu walked for a while and found a stone bench to sit on.

It must be winter, he thought, as the air had become noticeably colder.

Yet the bamboo remained green and lush, filling the air with a fresh scent. The grove was silent, with no chirping cicadas or birdsong, so quiet that one could almost hear their own heartbeat.

Bai Fanlu couldn’t help but think of Mu Yunhe, but he had suppressed such thoughts in his eagerness to paint, knowing it would do no good.

But now, in this moment, he couldn’t help but wonder how Mu Yunhe would react if he found out he was missing. Would it affect the war in the southern barbarian lands?

Bai Fanlu shook his head. Mu Yunhe was not the kind of person to lose sight of the bigger picture. He trusted him.

A gust of wind swept through the bamboo, the rustling leaves creating a sound that caught Bai Fanlu’s attention. He sensed something and turned his head slightly.

In the direction he looked, there stood a figure in the shadows, hidden among the bamboo. It was unclear how long the person had been there.

The figure was partially obscured by the shadows of the bamboo, holding a short jade flute that shimmered in the moonlight. The person gently stroked the flute before bringing it to their lips and playing.

The flute’s melody was clear, flowing gently through the bamboo grove, like a soft spring water.

Accompanied by the whispering wind and rustling leaves, the melody started as delicate and bright, with a sense of open-heartedness.

But then, the tone suddenly shifted, becoming high-pitched and intense, like a battle song that startled the birds in the bamboo grove.

This was an incredibly tragic tune, “The Break of the Cauldrons.”

Armies lined up, boats destroyed, and cauldrons shattered. Under a blood-red setting sun, the soldiers, with a resolve to die, embarked on a blood-soaked path with no return. The flute’s melody seemed to echo a song of bravery:

“Laugh not at those who lie drunken on the battlefield, for how many have returned from the wars of old!”

Bai Fanlu didn’t know how he recognized this difficult ancient melody, but scenes of desert sunsets and military confrontations suddenly flashed in his mind. His heart warmed and chilled simultaneously as he recognized this soul-stirring battle song.

The sound of thousands of horses and soldiers, filled with intense passion. The flute’s notes were bleak and desolate, yet unmistakably powerful, folding and unfolding, as if through the music one could see the silhouettes of generals and warhorses falling one after another.

As the melody continued, it became more and more mournful, as if it was lamenting in despair.

The figure behind the bamboo grove seemed to tense up even more. His narrow eyes revealed a glimmer of murderous intent, cold sweat dripping from his forehead, yet he remained oblivious. By the end, even his fingers holding the flute were trembling slightly.

The melody was on the verge of collapsing, yet it struggled to rise again, desperately searching for a way out of the deadlock.

Left and right, it wandered, as if possessed.

Just as the situation reached a critical point, a clear and bright sound pierced the air, cutting through the clouds and merging with the flute’s mournful tones, like an eagle soaring into the sky.

Rising, falling, and converging.

It was still “The Break of the Cauldrons,” but the flute’s sound gradually became clear, open, and finally reached a beautiful conclusion.

And then it ended…

In the darkness, a figure dressed in white walked out slowly. He twirled a slender bamboo leaf between his fingers, placing it to his lips and blowing two soft notes.

The person who had just joined in with the flute’s melody was Bai Fanlu.

He didn’t know how he could produce such music with a bamboo leaf; he had simply been unable to resist joining in when he heard the flute. Especially when the flute’s melody had started to spiral out of control, he had forcefully brought it back.

After finishing, he was drenched in cold sweat.

Upon careful recollection, it seemed that the original Bai Fanlu could indeed play the bamboo leaf. There was a scene in the novel where Bai Fanlu taught Xiao Yunzhang to play the bamboo leaf, though Yunzhang never learned it, instead quickly mastering the skill of hitting objects with it from a distance.

So, who had taught the original Bai Fanlu this skill of playing the bamboo leaf?

Bai Fanlu was puzzled, but he didn’t forget that his main concern now should be the person hiding behind the bamboo grove. “Who are you?”

The person put away the jade flute and seemed to scrutinize him for a moment before saying, “So, we meet again.”

Bai Fanlu recognized this voice. It was the same voice that had asked him that night, “Do you still remember Xiao Liu?”

“You… it’s you! Why did you bring me here?”

This person had seen him painting the vast landscape in Mu family mansion, and Bai Fanlu immediately realized that this must be the person who had brought him here.

The man chuckled softly, “Are you asking… why I brought you here?”

I?

Bai Fanlu was shocked. He’s… the Emperor?

There was no emperor in the southern barbarian lands, only tribal leaders who called themselves kings. This emperor could only be the newly ascended ruler of Hengchang County, the former Fifth Prince, Han Ling!

Thinking back to when he first entered the game, Han Ling had seemed to target him, so Bai Fanlu wasn’t surprised.

But he still didn’t understand why this man had waited so long to capture him, especially since he had known his whereabouts in Mu Wangfu all along.

Bai Fanlu wondered if, given the circumstances, he should kneel and pay his respects to this emperor.

“Once you finish the vast landscape, I will come again. Then, I will give you the answers.”

After saying these words, Han Ling left.

Bai Fanlu had a feeling that the reason Han Ling had brought him here wasn’t as simple as just for the painting. But after Han Ling left, he really didn’t come back, so Bai Fanlu had no choice but to focus on finishing the painting as quickly as possible.

When it was finally completed, Bai Fanlu immediately sent word. As expected, Han Ling came in person.

He carefully examined the long scroll on the table for a long time before saying, “Good, this is the vast landscape I wanted.”

Bai Fanlu felt a sense of relief and was about to speak.

Suddenly, the sharp voice of a eunuch came from outside, “Your Majesty, it’s time for the morning court session.”

Is it morning? Bai Fanlu wondered. He hadn’t slept for days and was starting to lose track of time.

“I will return in the evening.”

Bai Fanlu heard the sound of beads being lifted and then falling back into place. A maid approached and said, “Sir, I will serve you breakfast.”

Having not slept for days and finally no longer needing to paint, Bai Fanlu ate a little and then collapsed on the bed, sleeping until the afternoon.

But when evening came, Han Ling sent word that something urgent had come up, and he wouldn’t be able to visit for a few days. He instructed Bai Fanlu to rest well.

One day, Bai Fanlu faintly heard the sound of music and asked the maid beside him, learning that many battles had been won, and the whole country was celebrating. The palace was hosting a banquet to welcome back the victorious generals.

So the vast landscape was a symbol of Han Ling’s ambition.

Bai Fanlu understood, but hearing that the generals had returned, he couldn’t help but think of Mu Yunhe. Could he also be at the banquet?

But the southern barbarian war wasn’t so easily ended, and the journey was long. Even if they had won, it didn’t necessarily mean the war was over. Mu Yunhe shouldn’t be back so soon, so he dismissed the thought.

But Bai Fanlu still couldn’t help but linger near the courtyard walls, hoping to overhear something.

However, the courtyard was too secluded, and even the music was hard to hear, let alone conversations. Despite Bai Fanlu’s keen hearing, he could only occasionally catch bits of chatter from the maids passing by outside the courtyard, which gave him a vague sense of the banquet’s lively atmosphere.

“Master Meng,” the guard at the gate suddenly called out.

Bai Fanlu turned around; someone was approaching him.

“Brother Lu, it’s been a while. How have you been?”

The voice startled Bai Fanlu; it was Meng Qi, the third young master of the Meng family.

Right, he was Han Ling’s advisor.

“The palace is quite lively today. His Majesty was worried you might be bored, so he sent an old acquaintance to chat with you.”

Bai Fanlu replied, “I don’t recall having any past dealings with Third Young Master Meng.”

Meng Qi smiled, “True, you and I don’t have much history. But there is someone at today’s banquet who I think you’d be quite interested in.”

Bai Fanlu frowned, “…”

“Regarding that little prince Mu, I think you’d want to hear about him, wouldn’t you?”

Bai Fanlu was first surprised, then grew wary. Did Meng Qi know about his relationship with Mu Yunhe?

Seeing his calm expression, Meng Qi deliberately added, “Let me tell you, he’s the most ‘remarkable’ hero at today’s banquet!”

Although Bai Fanlu couldn’t see Meng Qi’s face, he could hear the malice in his voice.

At the same time, he learned something crucial: Mu Yunhe had indeed kept the big picture in mind, won the battle, and returned safely.

Knowing that the person he was thinking of was now in the palace, not far from him, Bai Fanlu, despite his calm demeanor, couldn’t help but feel his heart race.

Meng Qi continued to “praise” him, “The battles in the west and north were both successful but inconclusive. Only his campaign was swift and decisive, truly impressive.”

Lowering his voice slightly, Meng Qi added, “His Majesty gave him three years to eliminate the southern barbarians, but he did it in less than a month. Can you guess why?”

Mu Yunhe destroyed the southern barbarians? So quickly?

Bai Fanlu had thought he had only won a minor victory and was naturally shocked, but he also sensed a hidden meaning in Meng Qi’s words. “…What do you mean?”

Meng Qi leaned closer and said slowly, “He thought… you were dead.”

“What?” Bai Fanlu was stunned.

Meng Qi finally saw a rare expression of emotion on that usually calm face and seemed satisfied.

“He thought you were burned to death, and that the fire was set by the southern barbarians.”

Bai Fanlu suddenly felt as if a mirror had been placed in his heart, making everything clear.

“Actually, I’ve known Mu Yunhe for many years. He’s a talented man, but his heart isn’t in the right place. He needs a bit of motivation to get things done. So, think about it—under what circumstances could he become His Majesty’s sharpest blade, fully focused on conquering the world for him?”

“…Heh,” Bai Fanlu finally understood. “What a clever move, using a borrowed knife to kill and shifting the blame.”

Meng Qi scoffed. “His Majesty had always wanted to recruit him, but who told him to be so ungrateful? Refusing the offer of a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit.”

“But His Majesty sent him to the battlefield, and he’s never backed down!”

“That’s still far from enough.”

“Oh, I forgot—you can’t see,” Meng Qi said with feigned mystery. “Do you know what Mu Yunhe looks like now?”

Bai Fanlu’s eyes widened slightly, and his fingers involuntarily clenched.

Meng Qi clicked his tongue twice. “He, to pull your ‘corpse’ out of the fire, nearly destroyed his entire face. His hand was also burned, but he’s become even more ruthless when it comes to killing. Do you know what nickname he’s earned now?”

Hearing Meng Qi’s description, Bai Fanlu felt a storm brewing inside him, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

In a low voice, Meng Qi said, “They call him the Ghost General.”

The pain of his fingertips digging into his palm couldn’t compare to the pain in his heart. Bai Fanlu could entirely imagine how devastated Mu Yunhe would have been upon hearing of his “death,” but he never thought it would be this severe!

He had always assumed he was merely missing, never realizing he had been “killed.”

But the heavenly calamity hadn’t even descended yet, and Mu Yunhe had already reached this state?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Meng Qi seemed dissatisfied with Bai Fanlu’s reaction, thinking it was too mild.

Bai Fanlu gritted his teeth silently. “I’ve finished painting the vast landscape. If your aim was to push Mu Yunhe to the brink… then you’ve achieved your goal.”

Meng Qi chuckled. “You’re quite calm. Are you trying to say that His Majesty should let you go now? And then what? So you can go find him?”

Shaking his head in mock regret, Meng Qi said, “To be honest, I initially thought that with Mu Yunhe as the blade, the empire would eventually belong to His Majesty. So, what use would he have for you? It would be better to kill you and eliminate any future trouble. But unfortunately…”

Meng Qi’s gaze roved over Bai Fanlu, “You’ve grown even more beautiful than when I first saw you. No wonder His Majesty can’t forget you.”

Feeling that Meng Qi was too close, Bai Fanlu took a step back. “His Majesty has just inherited the throne. He wouldn’t do something so despised by the world.”

“Are you trying to say that you’re Mu Yunhe’s officially wedded wife?”

Meng Qi laughed heartily. “Mu Yunhe married the daughter of a noble family, Lu Lin. If it were known that he married you… that would be a crime of deceiving the emperor, punishable by the execution of his entire family.”

“…” Bai Fanlu’s greatest fear was that Han Ling would use this as a legitimate reason to go after Mu Yunhe. It would be all too easy.

“You’d best obediently go along with His Majesty’s wishes. Otherwise, there are three thousand Imperial Guards in the capital. At any moment, with just a single edict, he could be ruined, with no place to bury his body.”

“Think carefully about whose world this really is.”

Meng Qi had clearly been allowed into the inner palace and had the audacity to say so much because someone had permitted him. No one but Han Ling could have sanctioned this.

Bai Fanlu had already guessed that Meng Qi was just a messenger sent to make him see reason and prepare him for what was coming.

After Meng Qi left, the sound of music from the banquet gradually faded as time passed. Bai Fanlu hadn’t yet decided how to respond if Han Ling made any demands or what leverage he could use to negotiate.

A maid came twice to ask if he wanted to bathe, but Bai Fanlu didn’t want to return to the room and remained sitting in the bamboo grove.

Before long, he heard movement.

“Waiting for me?”

Bai Fanlu turned at the sound and bowed, “Your Majesty.”

Han Ling glanced at him and beckoned a servant forward, whispering something to them.

Soon after, a palace maid appeared, carrying a snow fox fur coat, which she draped over Bai Fanlu’s shoulders.

Then, Han Ling dismissed everyone else, leaving Bai Fanlu to wait in silence, intending to listen to what he had to say before making his move.

He didn’t mention Mu Yunhe, fearing it might provoke Han Ling. After all, it was hard to predict a monarch’s thoughts, and he couldn’t fully trust Meng Qi’s words.

Bai Fanlu’s mind was racing with thoughts, but the emperor merely said, “Listen to me play the flute again.”

It was the same tune from that night, “The Break of the Cauldrons,” now filled with unrestrained ambition for the vast landscape, with no attempt to hide it.

But Bai Fanlu had no interest in the music and only managed to restrain himself until Han Ling finished playing.

Han Ling, seemingly perceptive, said, “You don’t need to worry. I’ve had him sent back.”

“…” Bai Fanlu didn’t respond, trying to appear unconcerned.

But Han Ling continued, “Your feelings for him are written all over your face.”

Bai Fanlu frowned slightly. He wasn’t someone who showed his emotions easily. How could his feelings for Mu Yunhe be written on his face?

Could Han Ling be trying to trick him into revealing something?

“Stay here obediently, and I won’t trouble him.”

After a moment of silence, Bai Fanlu replied, “He’s done great deeds for Your Majesty, yet he’s become like this. Isn’t that troubling him?”

“His will was weak, easily deceived by appearances. He has only himself to blame, not me,” Han Ling said with a smile. “Besides, he doesn’t fully believe you’re dead.”

“I left him something to hold onto. That’s enough mercy.”

The gentle tone of his voice belied the bone-chilling words he spoke.

That night, the emperor stayed in Bai Fanlu’s courtyard but rested in a separate room, just one wall away.

Bai Fanlu stayed awake the entire time, never truly falling asleep.

At some point, he felt someone enter the room and approach his bedside.

It was Han Ling, but he only stood there for a moment before murmuring something strange, “You really don’t remember Xiao Liu?”

“Are you so sure… he’s the one you’re looking for?”

Bai Fanlu was puzzled.

By all accounts, Han Ling was a good emperor. He wasn’t someone blinded by desire. Even with Meng Qi’s hints, Bai Fanlu couldn’t detect any unusual interest from this man.

It seemed Han Ling merely wanted to keep him confined here, controlling the great general outside, letting him hold onto hope while not forgetting his hatred, turning him into a heartless yet vulnerable weapon.

Over time, Bai Fanlu discovered that this young emperor didn’t even have a harem. If he planned to visit, he would have someone inform Bai Fanlu in advance. If he didn’t, he would send word that he was staying in the Hall of Reflection to handle state affairs.

Even when he did visit, it was only every few days, and only to play the flute or have tea, discussing matters of state or poetry, and always sleeping in a different room.

Strangely, there was a period when Han Ling became particularly obsessed with giving Bai Fanlu folk items, especially various grass-woven trinkets.

One day, he suddenly asked, “Do you like rabbits?”

Bai Fanlu was baffled and replied casually, “I suppose so.”

To his surprise, Han Ling actually had someone bring him a pair of live rabbits, saying they were for him to keep as a distraction. It nearly gave Bai Fanlu a fright.

Han Ling occasionally mentioned Mu Yunhe, informing him that the man was well but still hadn’t given up searching for him.

This was a clear hint for Bai Fanlu to stay put, and he understood it.

Unknowingly, the harsh winter passed, and spring arrived.

Bai Fanlu counted the days. It was one month until Mu Yunhe’s twenty-second birthday.

It was time to seriously consider how to escape.

Now blind and without martial skills, surrounded by Han Ling’s people, Bai Fanlu had no way to flee on his own.

But he had been carefully observing the environment of the courtyard. The artificial lake beside it was fed by running water, and Bai Fanlu suspected it might connect to outside the palace.

However, the courtyard was under constant surveillance by hidden guards, preventing him from testing the water. Besides, he wasn’t confident enough in his swimming skills, so this route could only be a last resort.

Just when he was feeling helpless, Bai Fanlu heard some news. A month later, during the Mangzhong festival, the palace would hold a blessing ceremony. To reassure the people and promote farming, the emperor would also pardon some minor offenders with no labor at home and personally visit the national temple to pray for blessings.

Bai Fanlu calculated the time. The day after the ceremony was Mu Yunhe’s birthday.

So, he took the opportunity to ask Han Ling if he could accompany the officials to the temple to pray for the people on the day of the ceremony.

The request was reasonable, and Han Ling didn’t refuse.

“I’m thinking of donating some meaningful artifacts to the temple, but I don’t want to be too conventional. What do you think would be appropriate, Lord Lu?”

This question was exactly what Bai Fanlu had hoped for. Pretending to think for a moment, he replied, “If Your Majesty doesn’t mind my crude work, the vast landscape painting carries the best meaning.”

Han Ling gazed at him for a while, then smiled slightly. “It’s impeccable.”

Bai Fanlu felt a bit uneasy, afraid that Han Ling might have detected something. But to his surprise, Han Ling gladly accepted the suggestion.

“However, I look at that painting every day. If it’s donated, I won’t see it anymore… Lord Lu, why don’t you paint another one for me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Bai Fanlu agreed obediently.

“No need to paint the same one. I don’t want you to overexert yourself. Just paint a small picture…”

Han Ling glanced down at the jade flute he was playing with. A crack ran along the green jade, seemingly repaired after breaking.

“Paint a ‘Broken Flute’.”

“Let it be scattered in the spring breeze, a flute broken under the moonlight. Paint the way you see me playing the flute.”

“That…” Bai Fanlu wanted to say he had never seen the emperor’s face, so how could he paint it?

But Han Ling seemed to understand his hesitation and said, “There’s no rush. Paint it when you feel like it.”

Of course, Bai Fanlu had no intention of seriously thinking about how to paint Han Ling’s portrait. His focus was on the vast landscape painting that was about to be sent to the national temple.

It would be publicly displayed along with other offerings for several days. Whether it was the civil and military officials attending the ceremony or the ordinary people coming to pray, they would all see it.

However, Han Ling was more cautious than Bai Fanlu had expected. On the day of the blessing ceremony, he was constantly guarded by the Imperial Guards, and even when they returned to the palace, Bai Fanlu found no chance to escape.

That night was the eve of Mu Yunhe’s birthday, and Bai Fanlu was anxious, not knowing when his trial of life and death would come.

He was worried because they were already married, and had done everything a married couple should. If the prophecy was correct, Mu Yunhe should be able to survive the heavenly calamity, but Bai Fanlu still felt inexplicably uneasy.

The banquet in the front hall continued, and Bai Fanlu never stopped looking for an opportunity. At one point, he suddenly realized that the hidden guards watching him were gone.

Though the situation felt clearly suspicious, Bai Fanlu didn’t want to let any chance slip away. After all, it was the last day, and he had to try.

Making a quick decision, Bai Fanlu walked to the lake. Just as he was about to test the waters, the moment he lowered one leg, someone grabbed his arm forcefully.

Han Ling, who should have been in the front hall drinking with the officials, had somehow appeared behind him. His grip was so strong that it almost crushed Bai Fanlu’s forearm.

His voice was no longer warm but as cold as ice, “Are you so eager to see him?”