The sun dipped beyond the horizon, and night quietly swallowed the sky.
Inside Zhaotong Prefecture, everything was silent.
Thousands of soldiers and over one hundred thousand civilians crowded near the city gates, on the walls, along the streets, and outside their homes. They huddled together like refugees in a famine year, too afraid to rest indoors. No one dared sleep—because no one knew if the Sheng army outside would attack ahead of dawn. Every mind was stretched to the breaking point.
Six hours remained.
Only six hours left until the final deadline given by the Sheng army.
"Report!"
"General! Bad news! The outer perimeter's sealed—completely sealed!"
"The enemy no longer leaves one side open. Our scouts can't get through at all!"
"They've also prepared large siege machines. Judging by their setup, they'll definitely launch an attack at daybreak!"
"What are you panicking for?!"
Deng Feng's deep, booming voice cut through the night. "Let them attack! You think they can take these walls?"
One of his aides spoke hesitantly. "General, but didn't you say the reinforcements would arrive at dawn—the same dawn they plan to attack?"
"That's right."
Deng Feng forced his voice to sound steady. "The reinforcements will arrive at dawn! When they do, His Majesty's seventy thousand soldiers, joined by Yongle Prefecture's fifty thousand elite riders—one hundred twenty thousand in total—will crush the Sheng army in a single sweep! This night is merely the darkness before dawn!"
One word—endure.
He had guarded the frontier for half his life.
Never once had he felt pressure like this.
And all of it came from one man—Chen Sanshi.
That man!
In just one month, he had taken more than half of Laizhou!
"Ten thousand troops avoid the white robe."
Such methods defied reason.
But what shocked Deng Feng most was not his tactics—it was the rumors.
From the reports he received, most cities hadn't fallen by force at all. Their people chose to submit. Even when the garrisons wanted to resist, the common folk revolted instead. Because wherever the Black Armored Army went, they killed corrupt officials, opened granaries, and never harmed civilians.
To speak bluntly—they treated the people better than the Great Qing itself.
Deng Feng had heard stories of Chen Sanshi "leading the people across the river." He'd half-believed them, thinking it was imperial propaganda spread by the Sheng emperor himself.
But now, he was starting to believe.
A general whose arrival made the people willingly face their own soldiers' blades just to join him—such a man was either truly devoted to the people, or the greatest actor alive.
Either way, he could no longer stop.
From that perspective, to have such a general in the world—if only the Great Qing had one—it would be a blessing to the nation, a blessing to its people.
But fate had made him an enemy.
A powerful, terrifying enemy with a boundless future.
Still… they could win.
All they had to do was last until dawn.
Once battle broke out and blood was spilled, defense and desperation would merge into strength.
And if by some miracle he could capture Chen Sanshi alive and bring him into the Great Qing's service—then that would be even better.
Deng Feng steadied his men again. "Those eight prefectures haven't truly surrendered. It's all bluff! They're still holding out beside us! The Sheng army spreads these lies just to shake us. Don't believe a word they say!"
His tireless words finally calmed the restless crowd once more.
——
"Reinforcements…"
The soldiers and citizens didn't know the truth, but Deputy General Song Hongbiao did.
There was no way the reinforcements would reach them by dawn. Whether they'd even arrive in five days was uncertain.
For all he knew, Prince Tang—Li Gong—was doing the same thing Deng Feng was: lying about the date just to keep morale up.
——
Yongle Prefecture.
"Good!"
Li Gong slammed his palm on the table after hearing that Zhaotong still held. The weight in his chest finally eased. "Five more days! The Sheng army can't possibly take Zhaotong now! Soon, Laizhou will be fully restored, and we'll be ready to look north toward the Sheng heartlands! Victory is within reach!"
"General Deng truly is the backbone of the Great Qing!"
His deputy bowed. "Your Highness, the situation is stable!"
"Indeed."
Li Gong nodded, waving his hand in command. "Notify all troops, especially the cavalry. Keep them ready day and night! If I know Meng Quji, he'll retreat within three days. When he does, that's when we ride out and strike back!"
"Yes, Your Highness!"
——
Outside the city, Great Sheng Army Camp.
"News from the south! The one hundred thousand-strong Nanjun Army is advancing toward Hulao Pass!"
"Deng Feng still hasn't surrendered in Zhaotong. We're out of time!"
Meng Quji sighed, passing the latest report to the others. "General Fang, we'll have to retreat. If we delay any longer, it'll be too late!"
He had never suffered defeat in his life.
But now, if he stayed, the risk of collapse was over sixty percent—too great for him to gamble.
"Wait a little longer."
Fang Qingyun's reply was calm as ever. "Vice General Chen said clearly—Zhaotong must surrender within fifteen days. Less than fifteen, even by an hour, doesn't count. So why not wait until dawn? Then we'll know."
Zhan Taiming added, "Grand Commander, at this point, we might as well. Let's wait until dawn!"
"Yongle Prefecture is close," Meng Quji muttered. "A message takes about six hours to reach it. We'll wait until dusk tomorrow—that's the final limit."
He exhaled slowly. "But I'll agree to Sha Wenlong and Cui Congyi's proposal. If, after dawn, Zhaotong's defenders still haven't surrendered, we strip Chen Sanshi of his temporary command and forbid him from attacking. There's no time for a siege anymore. Sha Wenlong and the others will bring him back under arrest, and we'll retreat at once—return to the Great Sheng borders and fortify the frontier. We'll hold steady and wait."
In his view, Chen Sanshi had already failed his pledge.
Still, Meng Quji bore him no grudge.
Convincing twenty-seven prefectures to surrender without a battle was already an achievement that shook the world.
That Zhaotong remained unconquered was no shame.
But military law was absolute.
The man who failed his order would first be detained—then judged.
Outside Zhaotong Prefecture, within the Great Sheng army camp—
"The Grand Commander agreed."
Sha Wenlong stood, voice grim. "All four divisions, listen up! At dawn, seize Chen Sanshi immediately. Once we have him, we retreat at full speed!"
"Yes, sir!"
The four vice generals saluted and hurried off to carry out the order.
"That won't do!" Cui Congyi's expression darkened. "If we just send him back, he won't die! You can tell what Grand Commander Meng intends—he clearly doesn't think Chen's in the wrong. The most he'll do is spare him execution and let him 'atone through service.' It's useless!"
"Even so, he must be taken back first," Sha Wenlong said coldly. "If he resists orders and dares to attack the city, then we'll have our reason to kill him outright."
——
Black Armored Army's Command Tent.
[Technique: Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression · Meridian-Connecting (Mastered)]
[Progress: 155/1000]
As the final hours ticked away, Chen Sanshi remained calm, continuing to practice his spear techniques beneath the lamplight.
"My lord!"
Xia Cong hurried to his side, lowering his voice. "Sha Wenlong's deputies have been sneaking around near our camp. I don't know what they're planning."
"Leave them be."
Chen Sanshi's tone was flat. "Proceed as planned. As long as Cui Congyi and Sha Wenlong do their duties before dawn, I have no reason to interfere. But if they dare neglect their post, I'll take their heads myself."
"Yes, my lord!"
Xia Cong bowed and left.
"My lord," Zhao Kang approached, speaking quietly, "that bastard Sha Wenlong deserves death. Back at Yuyang Sect, he refused to send reinforcements. In Mingzhou, he constantly undermined us. If I had the strength, I'd have cut off his head long ago!"
"Go do your work."
Chen Sanshi didn't look up.
Pei Tiannan was still here.
And so were the two members of the Fragrant Fire God Sect.
On the surface, they appeared to be two ordinary Grand Generals of the Profound Manifestation Realm, but beneath that—there was a Martial Saint hiding among them, along with those two cult cultivators.
They were clearly here for something else.
There was still a massive temple inside Laizhou City, yet if their only goal was to gather incense power, they wouldn't all be staying here.
No matter.
They would separate eventually.
When that happened, the "Bald Rat" would make his move.
"My lord!"
Lu Shuhua came running. "It's almost time!"
"Clang!"
Chen Sanshi stopped his movements and flipped his spear, stabbing it into the mud at his feet. "Begin."
——
Inside the city.
Midnight.
Zhaotong's garrison—trapped inside the city for nearly three months—was barely holding on. Exhaustion had long replaced vigilance, yet no one dared to truly rest. Most sat slumped against walls or on the ground, eyes half-closed but hands still gripping their weapons.
Their empty stomachs growled one after another.
"General, the rations…"
"Gone!"
Song Hongbiao's face was tight. "Even with cutbacks, we only have enough for two more days. Should we halt the civilians' food supply first—to keep the soldiers strong?"
Zhaotong had been Laizhou's second-largest grain hub, but with over one hundred thousand civilians inside the walls, the daily consumption was terrifying.
Even with reduced rations, the granaries were running dry.
"Don't spread this."
Deng Feng sat cross-legged, his voice firm. "Don't reduce the rations. Take out everything. Let everyone eat their fill tonight. Once we make it through this night, everything will change."
When battle started tomorrow, even hunger wouldn't matter. They just needed to hold until reinforcements arrived.
"Yes, General!"
Song Hongbiao saluted and left.
Soon after, buckets of steaming millet were distributed throughout the city.
"Food's here!"
"Eh? It's not thin porridge today!"
"The General even slaughtered horses! There's a big chunk of meat in every bowl!"
"General Deng truly is a man of compassion!"
"Yeah, but I heard that Chen Sanshi's like that too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I heard when his cities ran out of food, he took grain from the Great Sheng army itself to feed the civilians. Starving refugees who were half-dead—he brought them back to life."
"Sigh…"
"They're both good men. Why do they have to kill each other?"
"Yeah… but it doesn't matter. The reinforcements will arrive at dawn. Let's just hold on a bit longer!"
"Right, just one more night. General Deng won't let us down!"
"Once we wake, we'll be saved!"
Fed and warmed, the soldiers and civilians finally gave in to sleep. Only a handful stayed awake to keep watch.
In their dreams, they saw the reinforcements arriving, the battle won, soldiers returning home. The people of their villages lived peacefully again. The fields were green. The festival of the Celebration Songs was near, and families gathered, singing under the full moon.
"Gathering fern, gathering fern,
The fern grows anew.
To return, to return—
Yet the year ends not through."
"No house, no home,
All because of war.
No rest, no peace,
All because of war…"
For a moment, it felt as if they'd truly gone home—back to a simple life of sunrise toil and sunset rest. Hard, but peaceful.
But something was off.
The singing wasn't in their dreams.
"Wait… someone's singing?"
"It sounds like… outside the city?"
"There's so many voices—it's like tens of thousands are singing together!"
A rustle spread through the dark as hundreds of thousands stirred awake.
"The king's affairs drag on,
No time for home or hearth.
My heart aches deep,
My path cannot return—"
The song wasn't loud, but it surrounded the city from every side. It lingered softly, echoing over walls and through hearts, weaving into the night.
Its name was Cai Wei—a song beloved throughout the Great Qing. Its lyrics spoke of soldiers longing for home, of endless campaigns and weary hearts.
And now, sung in perfect local dialect, the melody carried a piercing sadness that struck straight to the soul.
One by one, people inside the city began to hum along unconsciously—voices trembling, hearts breaking.
"When I left, willows waved gently in the breeze. Now as I return, snow falls thick and fast!"
The singing grew louder and louder until over hundred thousand voices joined in unison, piercing through the night sky and shaking all of Zhaotong Prefecture.
——
Under the city walls, inside the command tent—
Deng Feng, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. His face darkened.
"Damn it!"
——
Outside the city — Great Sheng Army Camp.
"What's that noise?!"
Sha Wenlong, who had been dozing while waiting for dawn to arrest Chen Sanshi, was jolted awake by the thunderous song echoing across the plains. At first, he thought it was an attack, but after listening closely, he realized it was… singing.
Not just him—Cui Congyi and Cao Fan also came rushing in from their nearby tents.
"It's the surrendered soldiers! The Qing captives!"
"Didn't General Chen bring over two thousand captured soldiers earlier? It's them—those men are the ones singing!"
"Captured soldiers? Instead of using them as shields, he's got them singing?"
Following the sound, Cui Congyi approached the area where the surrendered soldiers had gathered.
He found groups of thin, ragged men singing their hearts out—each louder, more desperate than the last. Some were even crying as they sang.
Cui Congyi grabbed one by the collar like a chicken and barked, "What are you singing for?!"
"General Chen said if we sing with all our strength until sunrise… he'll let us go home!"
The soldier's voice broke. "We just want to go home…"
They sang from the soul.
After all, out of over twenty thousand who had surrendered, only two thousand remained imprisoned. The rest had already gone home. These last few were desperate, clinging to any hope of release.
"Ridiculous!"
Sha Wenlong scoffed, unable to grasp Chen Sanshi's plan. "General Cui, that brat Chen's gone mad! Only a cornered fool would resort to such childish nonsense. He's clearly run out of tricks!"
"Agreed."
Cui Congyi smirked. "A donkey out of ideas brays the loudest. What's next—he's going to sing the gates open?"
"Let them sing!"
Sha Wenlong sneered. "Sing till dawn. It'll be like a funeral song—for Chen Sanshi himself."
Cao Fan said nothing, though unease gnawed at him.
——
Inside Zhaotong Prefecture.
"Enough!"
Deng Feng burst from his tent, fury blazing. His qi surged, and his voice thundered across the city like a bronze bell shaking the heavens. "What are you singing for?! Stop it—now!"
Even so, it took the length of a full tea's steeping before the exhausted chorus began to fade.
"Reinforcements!"
"Are those our reinforcements?!"
"Yeah, that's pure Qing dialect—it must be our own troops!"
"They're everywhere! Surrounding us on all sides!"
"They've arrived! They've arrived!"
"Let's go see!"
"Stop! Don't move!"
But it was too late.
Tens of thousands of civilians flooded toward the walls, squeezing together to peer into the night beyond.
Then—their faces fell.
There were no reinforcements.
In every direction—east, west, south, north—the Great Sheng army camps stood firm, their soldiers clad in Black Armored armor, torches blazing in perfect order. Nothing had changed.
And the singing—
The singing came from them.
From inside the Sheng army camps.
The distance and darkness hid how many were singing, but it was clear—every encampment had voices.
Their own countrymen were singing alongside the enemy that surrounded them.
"What…"
"Where did so many of our men come from?!"
"It's them! The voices, the accent—it's definitely Qing people!"
"Sure, one or two might imitate our dialect, but tens of thousands? Impossible!"
"Five thousand?"
"No, at least ten thousand… maybe twenty thousand!"
"Fifty thousand!"
"How can there be so many? Weren't all the prisoners released already?"
"The Black Armored Army just returned yesterday—they must've brought new captives from the other eight prefectures!"
"Then that means… the eight prefectures really surrendered!"
"Shut your mouth!"
"They didn't! The eight prefectures haven't surrendered!"
Deng Feng stormed up the wall. "It's fake! All of it! Lies!"
At that exact moment—
From the darkness, escorted by two blazing torches, a white horse approached. Upon it sat a young general in white robes, calm and straight-backed, halting three hundred paces from the gate.
"Who's that?"
"A white horse… white robe… that's Chen Sanshi!"
"Who else could it be?!"
"Look! It's really him!"
"He's come out himself!"
Chen Sanshi raised his clasped fists high in salute toward the wall. "General Deng, I— General of Distant Loyalty Chen Sanshi—greet you!"
"Chen Sanshi!"
Deng Feng roared, pointing down at him in fury. "What kind of trickery is this?! You think a peasant tune can shake my men's resolve?!"
"General Deng misunderstands."
Chen Sanshi's tone was calm, polite. "I came not to fight—but to save General Deng, and the hundred thousand souls within these walls."
"Absurd!"
Deng Feng barked a cold laugh. "I still command eight thousand elite soldiers! The city's granaries are full, and reinforcements will arrive at dawn. I need no saving!"
"Are you sure your granaries are full?"
Chen Sanshi sat tall in the saddle, his expression composed, his voice ringing clear. "As I marched through Laizhou, I saw famine in every direction. Since the war began last November, your armies have stripped the people bare. Every city's grain was taken from their hands. The people suffer while officials feast.
"Zhaotong, as Laizhou's second-largest granary, should have enough to feed eight thousand men for half a year—or even a full year.
"But General Deng… you're a man who cares for the people. You must have shared your rations with the civilians, didn't you?
"With over one hundred thousand mouths in this city… even Zhaotong's granaries can't last long, can they?"
"Utter nonsense! Don't flatter me!"
Deng Feng snapped. "We have more than enough food! My soldiers just ate their fill! Chen Sanshi, stop spreading lies to weaken morale!"
"The truth of your granaries can be tested easily," Chen Sanshi replied evenly. "But even if there's a little left, it won't last much longer. Still, let's set food aside for now—let's talk troops instead."
He lifted his gaze.
"Not only have the eight prefectures all surrendered, but just two hours ago, Yongle Prefecture fell as well. Prince Tang, Li Gong's head, now hangs on the city wall."
"In other words—Zhaotong stands alone.
A single, isolated city."
"The men singing in our camps are the surrendered soldiers from the eight prefectures and Yongle Prefecture. They don't want to fight their own countrymen, so they're using song to persuade you! Do you really want to slaughter your own brothers? Some of you might even know them—some might come from the same hometown!"
The moment Chen Sanshi's words echoed through the night, silence swept the city walls. Then panic erupted.
"Wait… the food's gone?"
"The city's granaries are empty?!"
"No wonder they gave us such good food last night! That was… our last meal!"
"Yongle Prefecture fell too?"
"Even Prince Tang is dead?!"
"Then doesn't that mean we're the only ones left in Laizhou? The 150,000 Sheng troops will turn back to crush us next!"
Chen Sanshi's voice carried clearly from outside the walls. "General Deng! You already know the truth. Why hide it from your men and the people? Must you wait until the Great Sheng gathers another army and razes this city to the ground—until your corpses fill the streets—before you surrender?"
"Know the truth? What truth?!"
Deng Feng's composure shattered. He roared from the wall, his voice cracking with anger and desperation. "Don't listen to him! Every word out of his mouth is a lie!"
"General Deng!"
Chen Sanshi raised his voice higher. "I know you're a man of loyalty and courage. But you can't drag an entire city of innocents down with you in the name of loyalty!
"I've just received military orders. At dawn, Grand Commander Meng has ordered a full assault!
"That means your time to decide is almost gone.
"I've said all I can.
"To the brothers and citizens within—talk to your general. Persuade him before it's too late.
"Farewell."
With that, he turned his horse and disappeared into the Great Sheng camp.
——
On the city wall, chaos broke out.
"If the other prefectures we can't see, fine—but what about the granaries?"
"Yeah, are they really empty?"
"Let us check the granary ourselves!"
"They're empty—completely empty!"
A few bold men who had snuck away earlier now came running back, shouting, "It's true! Before, we could at least approach the granary, even if we couldn't take anything. But now soldiers guard it tightly—won't even let us near!"
Did that not prove it already?
"The granary is empty!"
Deng Feng clenched his jaw and finally said, "Yes, it's empty! But so what? Everything else he said is false! As for those singing outside—I don't know who they are. But I swear on my life, the eight prefectures have not surrendered! If you don't believe me, send someone out to confirm it!"
"The nearest city would take two days there and back! But, General, didn't you say reinforcements will arrive tomorrow morning? If that's true, then there's no point sending anyone!"
"Wait… are you lying to us?!"
A thunderous murmur spread across the crowd.
Deng Feng froze, words caught in his throat.
He cursed Chen Sanshi inwardly—despicable, shameless bastard!
That man had first used songs from captured soldiers to stir the city's heart, and now twisted every truth to turn the people and soldiers against him. He'd trapped Deng Feng completely, leaving him unable to defend himself!
"I only said I can prove the eight prefectures haven't fallen! I never said the reinforcements wouldn't come!"
Forcing confidence into his tone, Deng Feng shouted, "At dawn, the reinforcements will arrive—on time!"
"Then we'll trust you one more time, General."
"Brothers, hold on till morning!"
The crowd slowly dispersed, but the unrest lingered.
Vice General Song Hongbiao frowned deeply. "General… you know the reinforcements won't make it by dawn. Why lie to them?"
"As long as we make it till morning, there'll be no chance to surrender," Deng Feng said coldly. "Once fighting starts, the people and soldiers will have no choice but to fight to the death. That's all I need—to hold out until dawn."
He had no other choice.
If he admitted the truth now, chaos would erupt instantly.
Song Hongbiao hesitated. "But doesn't that mean… no one in the city will have a way out?"
"What do you mean?"
Deng Feng narrowed his eyes. "You want to surrender too? Didn't I tell you—His Majesty's army will arrive in five days?"
"Really?"
Song Hongbiao met his gaze, trembling slightly. "Tell me honestly, General… will they really come in five days?"
In his heart, he already doubted everything. The eight prefectures had fallen. The food was gone. What guarantee was there that reinforcements weren't just another lie?
After all, every report he received had first passed through Deng Feng's hands.
"You—you don't trust me either?!"
Deng Feng's voice shook with fury. "Song Hongbiao! Tell me—while Yongle Prefecture still stands, do you think His Majesty would ever abandon Laizhou?!"
"But…"
Song Hongbiao's voice trembled. "Just now, the Sheng general said Yongle has fallen too."
"You believe him?!"
Deng Feng spat the words, his anger barely contained.
That wretch Chen—too cunning by half! He'd struck right at the fifteenth-day deadline, when no word could be verified.
Deng Feng could doubt, but others would believe. And once they did… the city would crumble from within.
"Shameless… shameless villain!!!"
For the first time in his life, Deng Feng felt completely powerless.
Outside, the songs of celebration still filled the night.
"Slowly we march, hungry and parched. My heart aches—none understand my grief…"
The haunting melody drifted through the city like a fine drizzle, soaking every heart in sorrow.
Throughout the night, the despair grew heavier. Among the hundred thousand civilians and eight thousand soldiers, battle spirit faded. They no longer dreamed of victory—only of dawn.
And at last…
The stars shifted. The long night gave way to light.
The jade moon sank behind the hills, and the first red sun rose slowly over the horizon.
Tens of thousands climbed the walls, craning their necks, waiting to see the banner of "Qing" fluttering in the distance.
But instead of the Great Qing's standard—
There was nothing.
Instead of the Great Qing banners, more and more Great Sheng army flags appeared all around the city. Their shapes loomed through the dust, too many to count—men and horses advancing swiftly toward the walls from every direction.
"General! Where are the reinforcements?!"
"You said they'd arrive at dawn!"
"But counting carefully… today's already the sixteenth day!"
"They're not coming!"
"General, let's surrender! There's still time if we act now!"
"It's too late!"
Before the anxious crowd, Deng Feng stepped onto the high platform, guilt thick in his voice. "The truth is… the reinforcements will need five more days to arrive."
"Five days?!"
"Everyone, listen to me!"
He raised his great saber high. "When I said fifteen days before, it was only to boost morale. But this time it's true! In no more than five days, His Majesty himself will arrive at Green Ridge Mountain. When that happens, the Tiger Guards and the Black Armor Army outside will retreat together!"
A soldier shouted bitterly, "General, with all due respect—you said something like that last time too."
"And what about the food?"
"You've lied to us again and again, General…"
"Yeah! What if five days later, it's just another five days?"
"There are no reinforcements at all!"
"Look! It's bad—look outside!"
"The Sheng army's getting ready to attack!"
"There's only one more tea's time before dawn!"
Outside the walls, the songs of celebration stopped abruptly. In their place came the thunder of war drums and the blare of battle horns. Flags snapped wildly in the wind as formation after formation took shape.
Battering rams, siege towers, cloud ladders, and heavy ramming carts—massive siege machines rolled forward, their iron wheels grinding against the earth.
"What do we do now?!"
"If we don't surrender now, it'll be too late!"
"General! If there's no help coming, let's surrender!"
"No surrender! No one surrenders!"
Deng Feng roared with every ounce of his strength. "I swear to the heavens—reinforcements will be here in five days!"
But no one believed him anymore. After lie upon lie, his voice carried no weight. Every word fell flat, powerless.
"General! Bad news—the eastern gate commander just tried to open the gate!"
"Courting death!"
"Boom!"
Deng Feng charged down from the wall like a raging tiger, kicking off the stone ramparts and slamming into the ground below. He swung his blade and cut the gate commander clean in half.
Before he could even catch his breath, another report came.
"The southern gate commander—he's setting fire to the gate!"
"Die!"
Deng Feng flashed forward again, killing the traitor on the spot.
"Bad news!"
"Commander Wang Lin'an—he's gone rogue!"
"And Commander Zhao too!"
"Worse—some of the civilians are…"
But no matter how many he killed, it didn't stop the tide. The crowd was like a flood bursting through a broken dam. Deng Feng felt utterly powerless, as though he were standing before a tidal wave that no man could resist.
Even at the peak of the Profound Manifestation Realm, he was still just one man. No martial strength could turn back the will of heaven—or the will of the people.
This tide…
It had been building for a long time.
He had once held it back with sheer will and blood, but now—it surged unstoppable.
Chen Sanshi's every move, every word, every song had eaten away at their hearts.
And now, as the morning sun rose, it became the final straw that broke him.
From that moment on, surrender spread through the city like a plague—fast, relentless, and impossible to contain.
Defending a city was never something one man could do alone.
Even if he broke through to the Martial Saint Realm right this instant, what could he do when everyone around him—soldiers, officers, civilians—wanted to surrender?
Could he slaughter one hundred thousand of his own people?
"Boom—boom—boom!"
At last, he could not hold them back any longer.
The southern gate burst open with a deafening roar.
The first officials and generals rushed out, falling to their knees before the waiting white-robed general on the white horse outside.
"General Chen! Don't attack! Please, stop the assault!"
"We surrender! We surrender!"
The entire city dissolved into chaos.
Countless Qing soldiers ran past Deng Feng, desperate to escape, terrified they might be too late to surrender.
Only a handful of loyal men—Song Hongbiao and a few senior officers—remained behind, eyes darting nervously.
Then Deng Feng suddenly threw back his head and laughed.
"Ha! Hahahahaha!"
He laughed until his breath gave out, until his voice cracked with despair. Then, trembling, he shouted to the heavens:
"I… have lost!!!"
He looked at the flood of people rushing past him. His blade, his strength, his life's discipline—all of it useless. The despair pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.
He closed his eyes. The Green Dragon Crescent Blade fell from his hand with a metallic clang.
He drew the sword from his waist and raised it toward his own neck.
That single motion froze the chaos.
"General, no!"
Song Hongbiao and several loyal officers threw themselves forward, grabbing his arms. "If you must die, General, then kill us first!"
"General Deng?!"
The citizens, too, were stunned.
They couldn't understand—why would opening the gates and surrendering drive Deng Qingtian to take his own life?
They had rushed to surrender only because they wanted to live. None of them had ever wished for General Deng to die.
After all, General Chen Sanshi had promised: once the gates opened, no one—whether soldier, officer, or civilian—would be harmed. If no one would die, why shouldn't they surrender? Why should it come to this?
"Master Deng!"
"Second Master, please don't!"
In an instant, soldiers and civilians alike dropped to their knees. No one ran for the gates anymore. It was as if they had forgotten all about surrendering and saving themselves.
"You wanted to surrender? Then go! What does it have to do with me?"
Deng Feng's eyes were bloodshot. "For six generations, the Deng family has served the Great Qing with loyalty and honor. How could I, Deng Feng, betray that legacy and become a dishonorable traitor? If I don't take my own life, how can I face my ancestors in the afterlife?!"
"Boom!"
His qi erupted like a storm, blasting several of his men backward.
Just as he was about to strike himself down, a powerful voice rang out.
"General Deng, why speak such words?"
A white horse galloped into view. Upon it sat a white-robed general, flanked by two more: Sha Wenlong and Cui Congyi, both masters of the Profound Manifestation Realm. Behind them, ranks of Tiger Guards and Black Armor soldiers surrounded the area in tight formation.
Even as they dismounted, the three men's faces still showed disbelief.
Only a short while ago, they had been ready to draw their blades and seize Chen Sanshi for overstepping orders.
Then, suddenly, news came—chaos had broken out inside Zhaotong Prefecture! The eastern gate had opened!
They led their troops in, only to find no resistance at all. Thousands of Qing soldiers had already laid down their arms.
Chen Sanshi… had actually done it.
Just a day ago, Zhaotong was an unbreakable fortress. And yet, overnight, it had fallen—peacefully.
Even more shocking, Deng Feng hadn't surrendered willingly. The chaos had simply spread beyond his control.
With his reputation and strength, how could things have ended like this?
Why?
Just because last night Chen Sanshi sent a few thousand surrendered soldiers to sing a few songs?
Just because he shouted a few words at the wall?
But the strange thing was—the words he'd spoken were almost the same as theirs before him. So why had his worked… when theirs hadn't?
Now, most of the officers were under control. The Sheng army had fully entered the city, and order was being restored.
Zhaotong Prefecture had fallen.
At the very last moment, when success seemed impossible, it had surrendered without bloodshed.
Cao Fan stood blankly, numb. A prince of royal blood, a grandson of the imperial line, yet he couldn't even lift his head to meet the gaze of the young general before him.
He felt utterly ashamed.
"Chen Sanshi!"
Deng Feng glared at the approaching cavalry, his rage barely contained. "You despicable, shameless brat! You tricked the gates open with cheap parlor tricks—what kind of skill is that? Why didn't you climb the walls yourself and fight like a man? You—!"
But midway through, even he felt how hollow his words were.
Because deep down, he knew.
This wasn't trickery. It was momentum.
He had felt it himself—the unstoppable tide of fate.
And the one who had turned that tide was this youth barely eighteen or nineteen years old. A general who wielded not just the sword, but the hearts of men.
He had underestimated him.
It was over now anyway.
The city had fallen. The people would live. That was enough. Death would be his atonement.
"General Deng!"
Chen Sanshi's voice was urgent. "Cui Congyi, Sha Wenlong—restrain him! Don't let him kill himself!"
"Yes, sir!"
Now that Zhaotong had surrendered, Chen Sanshi was the commanding general. His orders had to be obeyed.
"You two useless fools—come to die as well?!"
Deng Feng roared, stomping the ground and snatching up his Green Dragon Crescent Blade. His qi surged in waves, like coiling dragons bursting from his body, as he prepared to strike.
"Deng Feng, how dare you!"
Cui Congyi shouted coldly, "Do you mean to rebel again after surrendering? Do you want your men to die with you?!"
"You—!"
Deng Feng froze.
He knew even if he could overpower Cui Congyi and Sha Wenlong, he'd be gravely wounded. And behind them stood thousands of Sheng soldiers. Fighting would only drag his own men and the city's people into slaughter.
He couldn't.
He clenched his jaw, torn between pride and helplessness.
The battle between high-realm martial artists left no room for hesitation.
In just a few breaths, Sha Wenlong and Cui Congyi closed in, hurling Black Armored chains charged with qi. The chains pierced through Deng Feng's acupoints one after another, like black serpents burrowing into his flesh. Finally, they locked around his collarbone, binding him completely.
In that state, even a warrior of the Meridian-Connecting Realm couldn't break free.
Despite the agony tearing through his body, Deng Feng didn't scream. He only grunted, his face pale but unyielding.
"Take him away," Cui Congyi ordered two sub-commanders who had reached the Meridian-Connecting Stage. "Watch him carefully."