The Qingshan Army are government soldiers—Miss Jun was no stranger to this statement.
When she was suddenly abducted in the dark of night, the first thing they said to introduce themselves was: We are government soldiers.
What kind of government soldiers have fallen so low they're worse than bandits?
What kind of government soldiers possess so many divine weapons but leave them unused?
Miss Jun sat up straight, looking earnestly at Yang Jing.
"We were originally people from Zhuo State New City," Xia Yong said.
Zhuo State?
Isn't that part of the Jurchen territory?
Miss Jun stared at him in surprise.
So Master was from Zhuo State?
"No, back then Zhuo State wasn't Jurchen territory yet," Yang Jing said, his expression tinged with reminiscence. "At that time, Zhuo State belonged to Great Qi."
"Also, he wasn't from Zhuo State either," Xia Yong hesitated for a moment before adding.
He was naturally referring to Master Zhao Zhiyi.
Miss Jun tightened her grip on the armrest.
"He..." Xia Yong seemed like he wanted to say something but hesitated, and then smiled. "Honestly, we don't know where he's from."
You don't know? Miss Jun looked at him, puzzled.
"He said he's a stranger from afar, that his home was far away and no longer exists," Yang Jing interjected, "He wandered into our village and just settled down."
So that's how it is...
It turns out they'll never know where Master is from.
No wonder Yang Jing and Xia Yong once said they weren't sure if 'Zhao Zhiyi' was even his real name.
Miss Jun lowered her head in silence.
"At that time, the Jurchen people were fighting Great Qi, and Great Zhou was also taking the opportunity to reclaim the territories occupied by Great Qi. There was war everywhere, and our days grew increasingly harder. He said that if we wanted to live a good life, we needed soldiers and power. So he started training us, and we took in many nearby refugees and villagers," Yang Jing said. "He taught us many things. Our team grew stronger and stronger; even the local bandits weren't our match. In Zhuo State New City, people looked up to us."
As if recalling the glory of the past, Yang Jing, who typically refrained from smiling, let a faint smile surface on his face.
"Back then, we thought this was the good life—but he said it still wasn't enough," he continued. "He said Great Qi wouldn't last much longer, and since we weren't originally from Great Qi, as Han people, the ones we should help are naturally Great Zhou."
Indeed, the sixteen prefectures of Yanyun were populated by Han people, occupied by Great Qi for years. They suffered deep humiliation and oppression, countless wishing to return to a nation ruled by fellow Han people.
Miss Jun nodded in agreement.
"Assist Great Zhou in defeating Great Jin, reclaim the sixteen prefectures of Yanyun—that is true merit and achievement. That is the only way to have a truly good life," Yang Jing said.
Defeat Great Jin, reclaim the sixteen prefectures of Yanyun—Master had such aspirations.
Or rather, that man who seemingly observed the world with cold indifference actually once burned with such fervent passion.
What extinguished his fiery ardor? Was it merely the passage of time?
Miss Jun felt a sense of melancholy, her desire to hear more growing stronger.
"So did you enlist in the army?" she asked.
Xia Yong shook his head.
"Actually, it wasn't exactly enlisting," he said. "Big Brother contacted Great Zhou's generals and expressed our willingness to assist."
"So you were a rebel army," Miss Jun immediately said. "I know about this."
She had heard her father talk about this—over the years of battles against the Jurchen people, it wasn't only the Great Zhou generals who fought valiantly but also many rebel armies who contributed their assistance.
Her father even listed the names of many rebel commanders, several of whom were granted rewards.
But among them, there was no mention of Zhao Zhiyi, nor anything about the Qingshan Army.
"Big Brother returned to tell us that we weren't formally incorporated into the Zhou Army yet because our current identity was better suited for activities within Great Jin," Yang Jing said. "But that general had already promised to accept us into the Zhou Army. Big Brother even registered our name and made a flag."
A flag.
Miss Jun glanced outside the door, where the courtyard was brightly lit on the spring night. Men and women sat around several tables, still bantering and drinking. Behind them, leaning against the wall, stood a large flag.
Qingshan Army.
"After that, we traveled to many places following orders—from Zhuo State to Yizhou to Laiyuan," Yang Jing said.
"We recruited refugees along the way to form a new army, and the team kept growing," Xia Yong said, his expression tinged with pride.
"The pity is that, to keep our identity concealed, we've never used the Qingshan Army name," Yang Yong remarked. "Along the way, we transmitted intelligence to Zhou soldiers, followed orders, and supported ambush operations—we did a lot."
"You surely did many things," Miss Jun said with admiration. "Master and all of you are so impressive."
Xia Yong chuckled.
"Actually, many things we have now, we didn't have back then. A lot required funding," he said. "At that time, we didn't have the grandeur we do now—if not for encountering the princess later on..."
His words abruptly stopped, and Yang Jing coughed heavily beside him.
Miss Jun froze for a moment.
Indeed, their current clothing and weaponry—divine weapons—were built on an immense pile of money. Although the exact amount hadn't been tallied, a rough estimate suggested it had drained half of the Fang Family's wealth.
And, she was indeed a princess.
But how did they know she was a princess? No, no—they weren't referring to her but to another princess...
Laiyuan, Great Qi, Xiao...
"Does this surname suffice?"
A woman's voice suddenly echoed in her ears, and she connected it to her previous speculations.
Xiao, which prominent family from the northern lands bore the surname Xiao? The ruler of Great Qi, the Xiao Family.
Princess Xiao.
So it seemed.
Miss Jun looked at Yang Jing and Xia Yong, whose expressions grew somewhat uneasy. They tentatively watched her reactions, seemingly worried about whether she had noticed.
Great Qi and Great Zhou didn't share a harmonious relationship. If Zhou people learned that Great Qi's fallen princess resided within Great Zhou's borders, they would certainly capture her.
"What happened after that?" Miss Jun seemed uninterested in the matter and instead asked eagerly, "What led you to obscurity, setting roots in Zhangqing Mountain, and why did Master leave alone for over a decade without returning?"
Her concern had always been about Master. This was good; Yang Jing and Xia Yong breathed a quiet sigh of relief, outwardly showing visible signs of relief.
"After that, we didn't fully understand what was going on," Xia Yong said. "That time, we accepted a major mission—to intercept the Jurchen army, which was said to have only five thousand men as a vanguard. But when we arrived, we found it wasn't a vanguard but the main force, nearly a hundred thousand troops."
A hundred thousand.
Miss Jun instinctively clenched her fist.
"In the end, under Big Brother's leadership, we broke through the encirclement but exposed our location," Yang Jing said. "To evade pursuit from the Jurchen soldiers, it took us over two years of exhausting maneuvering before leading the survivors—along with family and children—out of Jurchen territory."
Even though over a decade had passed, recalling the tragedy still made him tense.
Miss Jun clenched the armrest tightly.
The survivors.
Earlier, they spoke of their growing strength, recruiting refugees as they traveled, meeting Princess Xiao of Qi, amassing wealth for weaponry.
With a skilled Master as commander, Princess Xiao funding them with the wealth of Qi, an expansive militia, divine weapons in hand—
Yet ultimately, the survivors were reduced to fewer than a hundred villagers living in Zhangqing Mountain.
Imagining the number of casualties in that battle and the grueling escape, one could picture the magnitude of hardship endured.
"What happened after that?" Miss Jun pressed on.
"Big Brother left to find the general responsible for liaison work—to ask what had gone wrong and how the intelligence could have such a major error," Xia Yong said. "Since we had returned, he would also arrange for formal incorporation of our Qingshan Army and seek rewards based on merit."
Miss Jun nodded repeatedly.
"That's absolutely proper," she said.
Xia Yong smiled, but his smile carried a hint of sorrow.
"That general died," he said.
Died...
Miss Jun was stunned.
"What was his name?" she asked.
"Jiang Ze," Yang Jing said.
Jiang Ze—she knew him. He was a famed general back then. Unfortunately, during the battle at Daming Prefecture, he suddenly succumbed to illness. That's when figures like Zou Jiang emerged.
"But even if he died, didn't anyone else know about the things you accomplished?" Miss Jun asked.
Xia Yong shook his head.
"We don't understand, but nobody seemed aware of the Qingshan Army," he said. "Yet judging by the timeline, the so-called Daming Prefecture victory was achieved by intercepting the Jurchen main force—and that was our credit. How could they not know?"
"Then, the Jurchen launched a surprise assault on the capital and surrounded it. The emperor was captured," Xia Yong said. "The northern territories fell further into chaos, and our matters were ignored entirely."
"It was too chaotic back then, and we were already badly weakened. Besides, we didn't know how the Zhou army perceived us, so we retreated to Zhangqing Mountain," Yang Jing said. "Just as Niuniu was born."
At this, Yang Jing's expression darkened once more.
Miss Jun's expression likewise turned somber.
Then Niuniu was born with an illness.
Master was utterly helpless.
Once driven by fervent dreams of glory and achievement, he ended up accomplishing nothing. His comrades were almost entirely lost, and his daughter was burdened with an incurable ailment.
One could only imagine Master's state of mind then.
A fool.
He must have felt as though everything he did was utterly meaningless—like a fool.
Miss Jun's eyes stung with emotion.
The room sank into a heavy silence.
Outside in the courtyard, laughter and drunken chatter rang on. In the spring breeze tinged with the scent of ale, the night grew increasingly heady.