...
At last, the chaos subsided. The battle had ended in a resounding victory for the Yunhua Empire, after long nights of brutal bloodshed against the Northern Kingdom of Hanyu.
Even so, the camp of Chi Xue was not a place that slept early—not even on the quietest of nights.
The sounds of soldiers, the creak of armor, and the groans of the wounded kept the camp awake—heavy with the thick scent of iron mingled with the biting cold of snow, and the silent grief of those who had lost their comrades in battle.
The banners bearing the name of the camp and its oath of loyalty fluttered proudly in the wind, symbols of men who had faced death and emerged victorious against the most dangerous kingdom the empire had confronted in decades of political conflict.
They all knew this might not be their last battle against them.
And yet, that knowledge did nothing to stop them from savoring this moment.
Sparks rose from the fires, carrying with them the loud voices of soldiers—laughter mixed with simple conversations about their families, about small things one of them loved, or simply about the details of the last battle they had fought.
Some of them had believed they would never return.
And yet, here they were.
Before long, the air filled with the rich aroma of royal wine. It was wine hastily seized from the storerooms of the Kingdom of Hanyu—for in the end, nothing accompanied a rare moment of rest after war better than a bottle taken from the enemy.
While the soldiers gathered around the fires and their voices drifted into the cold northern winds, there was someone watching in silence.
Gu Changyi stood at the entrance of his large tent in the heart of the camp, his arms folded. The torchlight reflected faintly in his dark violet eyes.
He did not share in his men's laughter.
Nor did he raise a cup of wine to celebrate victory.
Instead, his gaze moved slowly across the rows of tents and soldiers, as though silently counting every detail before him.
Victory had brought him no relief.
Only the weight of what remained after the battle.
Beneath his boots, the snow had mixed with mud and with traces of blood that the night had not yet erased.
He lifted his gaze toward the north, where the horizon vanished beneath the shadow of the mountains.
Where the lands of Hanyu began.
Every battle he had fought had taken place there.
At that moment, the silence was broken by the sound of boots crunching over the snow along the camp paths.
A soldier ran toward Gu Changyi and stopped before him, bowing slightly.
"General…"
The man hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully, before finally continuing.
"The prisoners from the battlefield have arrived."
When Gu Changyi turned his head, he could see a line of prisoners approaching, soldiers following behind them. With every step they took, the clatter of metal chains striking one another in the wind grew clearer, punctuated by the occasional rough shove from their guards.
The formation reached the camp.
The prisoners' steps faltered—some still wearing soldiers' boots, while others were completely barefoot, dragged from the palace without warning.
When they stopped, Gu Changyi began walking slowly around them.
His hands were clasped behind his back, his sharp, handsome features devoid of any expression.
Most of the prisoners were soldiers.
But some of them appeared to be of higher standing.
Scholars.
"P-please, my lord… let me return home."
One of the captured soldiers at the back of the line spoke weakly, his voice trembling with fear of the infamous general standing before him.
Gu Changyi looked at him with contempt.
"You should be grateful we didn't cut off your head on the battlefield," he said coldly.
"And now you ask to be released?"
There was not a trace of sympathy in his voice.
At this stage, nothing less was expected of him.
No one was in a good mood.
The soldiers had driven the prisoners here through the freezing cold, while the prisoners had suddenly found themselves in the enemy's den.
And yet, Gu Changyi seemed to be in a strange mood tonight—a mood that drove him to stir up a bit of trouble.
He continued circling them, hands behind his back, tossing cruel remarks at a bald middle-aged man, mocking two soldiers, and even kicking one prisoner's leg as he passed.
Finally, he stopped in front of the man standing at the head of the line.
The prisoner wore a long white robe, its edges stained with mud and blood.
His dark hair, long enough to reach the middle of his back, had come loose and covered part of his face.
A cold wind swept through the camp, causing the red earrings with golden chains in his ears to sway gently.
Gu Changyi stepped forward and stopped two paces from the stranger.
He studied his face for several seconds.
The man did not meet his gaze.
Instead, he seemed to turn his face slightly away from Gu Changyi's eyes.
"You're from the court?"
The general asked, his expression devoid of emotion.
No answer came.
A sharp glint passed through his eyes.
His voice hardened.
"Answer me when I speak to you."
The prisoner's face remained turned away as he finally spoke, his voice low and calm.
"And what would you gain from knowing that?"
Gu Changyi's eyes narrowed.
With a swift motion, he seized the prisoner's jaw and forced his face upward until their eyes met.
A heavy silence settled for several moments.
The cold wind brushed the dark strands of hair away from the man's face, revealing his features slowly.
For a very brief moment—
Gu Changyi's gaze froze.
His fingers paused against the prisoner's jaw, for a moment so brief it could almost be missed.
Then the change vanished from his eyes, as though it had never been there.
Even so, his grip tightened until it nearly crushed the prisoner's jaw.
The prisoner did not resist despite the strength of Gu Changyi's hand.
But he did not seem afraid either.
Gu Changyi studied him carefully.
Then suddenly, he released him.
The man pulled his face away from the general's grip.
"Take them to the building."
Gu Changyi said this as he turned and walked back toward his tent.
He paused for only two seconds—
then cast a brief glance over his shoulder before continuing.
The moment his foot stepped inside the tent, he collapsed onto the rough mat.
He stared at the cloth ceiling for a long time before finally squeezing his eyes shut.
A thousand thoughts spun through his mind, refusing to let him sleep.
The guards escorted the prisoners through the camp until they finally stopped before a long cylindrical building standing at its edge like a heavy shadow watching the place.
The structure had originally been built for the torture of war prisoners.
Although torture there had ceased some time ago, its reputation had not disappeared entirely.
The guards pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and cold air rushed inside.
The chill slipped through the narrow metal-barred windows and collided with the exhausted human bodies piled in the shadows.
Some prisoners sat silently.
Others lay sprawled across the hard stone floor.
The place was hardly more comfortable than it had been in the past.
From time to time, a guard's staff would strike someone for no clear reason—reminding everyone that pain, cold, and hunger were still the only laws governing this place.
When the first light of dawn appeared, Gu Changyi was already awake—or perhaps he had never slept at all.
He sat for a while on the same mat, flipping through old papers that had grown faded from time and frequent use.
He sighed in irritation.
Then tossed the papers aside, where they fell in a disordered pile.
After a moment of silence, he stood.
From the moment he stepped outside, the cold morning air struck his face.
The camp was still buried in heavy quiet; some soldiers slept beside extinguished fires, while two guards stood at the entrance exchanging watch with tired eyes.
Gu Changyi showed no expression.
He merely cast a quick glance around.
When the guard saw him emerge from the tent, he immediately straightened from his drowsiness and struck his companion, who had been sleeping beside him, to wake him as well.
Gu Changyi glanced at them briefly and said coldly,
"Bring the prisoner."
The two guards exchanged a quick look.
"W-which prisoner do you mean, General?"
Gu Changyi turned to them abruptly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Who else?"
Silence fell for a moment.
The guards instantly sensed that the general's mood today was worse than usual—worse than it had been in a long time.
Drops of morning dew fell audibly onto the stone ground.
The prisoners' hands were shackled.
Some sat.
Some lay on the floor.
But they all shared the same shrinking posture against the cold seeping from the windows and the hard ground beneath them.
The young man in the white robe sat in the far left corner, slightly apart from the others, his long silk robe scattered around him.
The door suddenly burst open with brutal force, and the echo of soldiers' footsteps filled the building as they rushed inside.
"W-what do you want!?"
A man shouted in terror as they dragged him outside.
The guard looked at the man between them and turned to his companion.
"Are you sure the general meant this one?"
The other nodded confidently.
"Yes. He spoke with him yesterday and even joked about his bald head."
…
Fate laughed mockingly at that moment.
While Gu Changyi was trying to grind through the storm of thoughts in his mind, his soldiers were carrying out his orders with catastrophic misunderstanding.
The unfortunate bald man who had received Gu Changyi's mockery the night before was dragged out in utter confusion and terror.
His bare feet stumbled over the rough ice as he was hauled toward the commander's tent, his desperate pleas disappearing into the cold morning air.
At the entrance of the tent stood Gu Changyi, pale as death, the first rays of sunlight crossing his sharp features.
He heard the commotion but did not turn until the guards stopped before him, panting, throwing the bald man at his feet.
"We brought him as ordered, General!"
The guard said proudly, waiting for praise.
A terrifying silence followed.
Gu Changyi looked at the trembling man at his feet.
Then slowly lifted his gaze toward them.
His violet eyes burned with a cold more lethal than Hanyu's frost.
"This?"
He spoke the word like poison.
"I gave you an entire night to rest, and it seems your brains froze along with the snow."
The guards immediately stiffened in panic.
"I meant the one with the red earrings…" Gu Changyi said quietly.
"Now. Before I decide to replace your heads with those of these prisoners."
The guards ran off in haste, disappearing among the tents and crates.
Within minutes they returned—this time dragging the prisoner he had intended.
Under the daylight, his appearance was clearer.
A white silk robe, its edges stained with mud, melting snow, and several spots of blood.
And green eyes that gleamed with an unusual coldness.
This young man did not scream.
Nor did he beg.
He walked with unsteady steps because of the freezing ground beneath his bare feet and the guards' blows.
But his back remained straight in a way that was almost provocative.
When they arrived, the guard shoved him forward so that he fell before Gu Changyi.
"Leave."
Gu Changyi ordered the guards coldly, his gaze fixed entirely on the red apple in his hand.
The three guards left.
An uneasy silence filled the tent.
Only the sound of the two men's uneven breathing remained, along with Gu Changyi's footsteps as he approached the prisoner sitting on the ground.
Gu Changyi studied him, a strange spark in his eyes that unsettled the young man for a few seconds.
"What did you feel," he asked, his anger wrapped in bitter sarcasm,
"when you led the army beyond Yunhua's borders?"
A heavy silence spread through the tent, broken only by the wind striking the canvas outside.
The question hung in the air.
When he heard it, the young man's body shifted slightly.
The red earrings swayed gently with the small movement of his head.
This time he did not avoid Gu Changyi's gaze.
He met it directly.
"And what will my answer change now?"
Gu Changyi's eyes narrowed.
"Everything."
He stepped closer.
"Or perhaps nothing."
He stopped directly in front of him.
"But I still want to hear it."
The young man remained silent for a moment.
Then said calmly,
"Then ask the court."
Gu Changyi's hand tightened.
"I'm asking you."
"And the difference?"
Gu Changyi's jaw hardened.
He stepped closer until they were nearly touching.
"The difference…"
he said slowly.
"…is that I was there when you swore."
The muscles of the young man's face moved slightly.
But his voice remained calm.
"People change."
Gu Changyi let out a short laugh devoid of warmth.
"Really?"
He bent slightly toward him.
"Then tell me…"
His voice lowered.
"Did you change when you led Hanyu's men to our borders?"
The young man fell silent.
Then said slowly,
"You speak as if you know nothing."
Gu Changyi froze for a moment.
"Then tell me."
He stepped closer.
"What is it that I don't know?"
The young man lifted his gaze directly to him.
"That Yunhua…"
He paused briefly.
Then said coldly,
"…is no longer worth defending."
The next moment—
Gu Changyi moved.
He seized the collar of his robe violently and slammed him to the ground.
The young man's back struck the rough floor.
"Say that again."
He showed no fear.
Instead he said calmly,
"You heard me."
Gu Changyi's expression hardened.
"Traitor."
The young man's eyes flashed.
"If it were that simple…"
he said quietly,
"…you would have killed me yesterday."
Gu Changyi grabbed his wrist and hauled him upward with brutal force.
"Don't test my patience."
The young man looked at his arm and at Gu Changyi's hand crushing it with insane strength.
He tried to pull his wrist free.
But Gu Changyi's grip was stronger.
Their faces moved closer.
And closer.
Until their breathing intertwined.
"Answer me."
Gu Changyi said in a low voice.
The young man remained silent for a moment.
Then said,
"Because you won't believe it."
Gu Changyi's jaw tightened.
"Try me."
But the young man did not speak.
He only looked at him in silence.
That silence—
was worse than any answer.
In the next moment—
Gu Changyi's fist exploded forward.
He struck him hard.
The young man's head slammed against the ground.
The red earrings shook violently.
For a brief second, silence fell.
Then the young man suddenly moved.
It was not a calculated action.
But the instinctive reaction of someone cornered.
He lunged forward—
and sank his teeth deep into Gu Changyi's hand just as it was about to strike again.
"Damn—!"
Gu Changyi cursed with a deep roar.
The scent of blood instantly filled the tent.
Gu Changyi tried to pull his hand back.
But the young man did not release it.
Instead he clenched his jaw even harder.
As though he were fighting with nothing but his teeth.
Blood flowed from the corner of the young man's mouth, droplets falling onto the shackles.
Gu Changyi lost his balance.
And fell to the ground.
In a single moment—
the young man was on top of him.
Sitting on his abdomen while still biting his hand.
Gu Changyi's muscles tensed from the pain.
He stared at the young man for a moment.
He looked like a feral cat whose boundaries had been crossed.
Then Gu Changyi moved.
With a violent motion he twisted his body, shoving the young man aside.
They rolled across the ground.
In the next instant—
their positions had reversed.
The young man's back struck the floor again.
Gu Changyi was above him.
He seized both his wrists and forced them above his head, pinning them to the ground.
His chest rose and fell violently.
A drop of blood slid from his bitten hand.
And fell onto the young man's cheek.
Gu Changyi leaned closer.
His violet eyes burned with real fury.
But the young man—
did not look afraid.
Instead he stared back at him directly.
A furious gaze…
holding the pride of someone broken but unbowed.
The two of them remained like that for a long time.
The only sounds in the tent were their exhausted breaths.