I am invincible, that's why I lie down. You're using your entire clan to rebel?

The three-day wait passed faster than Qin Mu had expected.

He would sit on the earthen slope at the edge of the camp for a period of time every day, sometimes in the early morning, sometimes in the afternoon, and sometimes when dusk was just beginning to fall.

He didn't try to hide himself; he just sat there.

He watched the figures coming and going in the Northern Wilderness camp—people repairing saddles, adding firewood to the fire, and squatting by the tents, slowly sharpening their blades with a small whetstone.

He saw a child who looked no more than seven or eight years old squatting in a sheltered corner between the tents, holding a short knife longer than his arm, slowly and repeatedly practicing a slashing motion, imitating the actions of an adult next to him.

His movements weren't fluid enough, and his center of gravity wasn't stable enough, but he would readjust his foot position every time he swung his knife.

Qin Mu watched for a while without looking away.

He discovered that even children here could ride horses to fight. The nomadic tribes had lived on horseback for generations and were used to solving problems with speed and the blade.

He recalled sitting on the dragon throne in the capital, seeing only neatly arranged text and numbers, not the true reality behind those words.

He recalled that he thought Xu Longxiang would never lose the family business left by his father—after all, those cities and those lands were something his father had protected inch by inch when he was young.

But now it seems that he overestimated Xu Longxiang. How could someone who was unwilling to defend his own territory be expected to think about what kind of existence the Northern Barbarians were?

On the evening of the third day, dust finally rose up on the road outside the camp.

A cavalry unit of about twenty men was approaching, their hooves kicking up a trail of gray-white dust as the daylight dimmed.

The group stopped at the entrance to the camp, and the leader dismounted and walked towards the largest tent in the center of the camp.

Qin Mu looked at the figure, but didn't ask Yin Sutang anything. He just looked at her and let her decide for herself.

Yin Sutang stood at the tent entrance, the wind lifting a corner of her sleeve before letting it fall back down.

She took a deep breath, lifted the curtain, and went inside.

The candlelight inside the tent flickered for a moment, then stabilized.

The curtain made a very soft sound when it fell.

Qin Mu sat on the earthen slope at the edge of the camp for a while longer, until dusk had completely settled and new candles were lit inside the tent.

His gaze swept over the outlines of the tents being packed up at the edge of the camp, then settled on the darkening horizon in the distance. He spoke, his voice neither loud nor soft: "Have them prepare. Send some of them back first thing tomorrow morning."

Jiang Zhaoyue, standing not far behind him, paused for a moment upon hearing this: "Whom does Young Master intend to send back?"

Qin Mu's gaze remained fixed on them: "Send back those who are not suitable to continue."

He paused for a moment: "Northern Mang is not a place for them. Chen Wanqing, Su Wan, Mingyue, Zhao Alan, and Lin Xiaolu, send them all back. Have the Dark Dragon Guards escort them back to the Qin Empire."

Jiang Zhaoyue was silent for a moment: "What about Lin Xiaolu? Didn't she always want to stay with you, young master?"

Qin Mu did not answer immediately: "She's not ready to go any further. She's too young; staying here would only make things worse. Let her go back, and we'll talk about it later."

Jiang Zhaoyue didn't ask any further questions. She nodded slightly and turned to walk towards the camp.

After dusk had completely settled, the candles in the tents were lit one by one.

When Qin Mu entered the largest tent, the women who had already been chosen were scattered around.

Chen Wanqing sat in the innermost seat, holding a teacup that was half-empty in her hand, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Su Wan sat next to her, her head down, her fingers resting on her knees.

Mingyue sat in the shadows at the edge of the tent.

Zhao Alan sat near the door.

Lin Xiaolu stood in the center of the tent, as if she had been waiting for a long time.

She looked up: "Brother Zhao...do I have to go back too?"

Qin Mu looked at her: "Yes. Go back. Northern Wilderness is not a place for you right now."

Lin Xiaolu's lips moved slightly: "Then... after I return to the Northern Border, will I be able to see you again?"

Lin Xiaolu's lips curved slightly, but quickly returned to normal.

She didn't ask any further questions, and simply nodded.

Qin Mu's gaze swept over the other figures inside the tent.

Chen Wanqing lowered her head, as if waiting for herself to process the news.

Su Wan remained seated in the corner, silent, but a hint of reluctance was visible on her face.

Mingyue looked up at him, then looked down again.

Zhao Alan let out a soft breath.

Qin Mu said, "The Dark Dragon Guards will escort you back. It's very safe, don't worry."

Nobody asked, "What is the Dark Dragon Guard?"

When Qin Mu stepped out of the tent, Mo Lang was lying on the sandy ground a few steps away from the door.

Qin Mu stood beside it for a while, and its ears twitched slightly.

Then his voice came through the night breeze: "Don't you think I shouldn't have sent them back?"

The black wolf didn't raise its head; it merely brushed its tail lightly across the ground.

Qin Mu didn't ask any more questions and stepped into the night.

The next morning, a group of people dressed in dark, tight-fitting clothes appeared at the edge of the camp.

Their robes were unmarked, and their movements were synchronized and quiet; they were the Dark Dragon Guards.

Chen Wanqing stood beside the carriage and glanced back at the camp.

A moment later, she looked away, stepped onto the carriage shaft, bent down and crawled into the carriage, the curtain falling behind her.

Before getting into the car, Su Wan looked up at the gray figure standing on the earthen slope at the edge of the camp.

He was still standing there.

She looked away, got into the car, and didn't turn back.

Lin Xiaolu was the last to board the train. She was carrying a dark blue bundle. She paused at the door, turned her head, looked at the gray figure for a few moments, and then bent down and crawled into the carriage.

The carriages started moving, their wheels crunching over the gravel, making a soft, rustling sound. The carriages headed south along the road they had come from, gradually becoming blurry silhouettes in the morning light, until they finally disappeared on the distant horizon.

Qin Mu stood on the earthen slope, watching the carriages grow farther and farther away.

Mo Lang had somehow walked to his feet and lay down beside him.

He turned his gaze away from the south and onto the tent in the center of the camp, where a candle was still lit.

Qin Mu turned his gaze away from the gradually emptying official road to the south and onto the several figures waiting in the center of the camp.

The morning light slanted in from the east, casting their shadows into long, thin outlines on the sandy ground.

"The rest of the journey," he began, his voice low, "is just the few of us going."

His gaze moved from Jiang Zhaoyue's face to Xu Fenghua's face, and then swept over Yun Luan, Chen Ruoyao, Yun Suxin, Han Xiner and Yin Sutang in turn.

No one asked why.

Jiang Zhaoyue put the rolled-up map into the carriage, turned around and stood beside him, as if she already knew about the arrangement and was just waiting for him to say it himself.

Xu Fenghua poured the now-cold tea onto the ground, put the empty cup into her bundle, and stood among the crowd without asking any further questions.

Yunluan untied the horse from the wooden stake, checked the saddle straps, and then stood by the carriage, as if doing something she had done many times before.

Han Xin'er stood at the edge of the crowd, clutching the wilted flower she had brought all the way from Fenglingdu. She glanced down at it, then looked up in Qin Mu's direction, and finally tucked the flower into her sleeve without saying a word.

Yin Sutang stood at the tent entrance, her gaze fixed on the dirt road leading north, as if waiting for something she couldn't speed up but needed to confirm its arrival.

She turned around: "They should be here soon."

The cavalry arrived earlier than expected.

As the dust rose, the sun had just passed over the tops of the row of low tents on the east side of the camp.

First came the sound of horses' hooves, then the gray-brown leather armor, which gleamed with a matte sheen from repeated wear in the morning light.

The group consisted of about twenty people, with the lead rider being a burly man with an old scar on his cheek that ran diagonally from his brow bone to his chin.

He reined in his horse at the entrance to the camp, his gaze sweeping over the outlines of the tents being packed up before settling on Yin Sutang.

Yin Sutang was already standing at the entrance of the camp, her hands hanging at her sides.

The rider dismounted, his boots landing with a solid thud on the sandy ground.

He walked up to her: "Elder Yin? General Daru sent word that you appeared at Fengling Ferry. I was initially skeptical."

Yin Sutang looked at him: "I need to see the eldest prince."

The rider's eyes flickered slightly: "The eldest prince isn't someone anyone can just see whenever they want. I can pass on your message, but whether he sees you or not is not up to me."

Yin Sutang didn't press the matter: "It's enough that I can pass on the message."

The rider glanced at her and nodded. "I'll pass on the message. You wait here; someone will come looking for you if there's any news."

After he finished speaking, he mounted his horse and led the cavalry northward along the original route.

The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded away on the sandy land, slowly receding the gray-brown dust trail back to the horizon.

Yin Sutang stood there watching them disappear into the dawn light, then turned around and saw Qin Mu standing not far away, his gaze also fixed on the dirt road that was becoming empty.

"Which direction did he go?" Qin Mu asked without looking at her, his voice low.

Yin Sutang paused slightly, "North. That's the direction leading to the First Prince's residence. He said he would relay our message, but as for whether the First Prince will see us..."

Qin Mu didn't wait for her to finish speaking.

He walked toward the black wolf lying under the roots of a poplar tree in the center of the camp. As he passed, the wolf raised its head, glanced at him, then stood up and followed him.

Jiang Zhaoyue stood beside the carriage, her gaze fixed on the direction where the cavalry had disappeared: "Does Young Master intend to follow them?"

Qin Mu neither nodded nor shook his head, but simply gathered his belongings: "Since that group is going back to report, we can follow them to find the location of the First Prince's residence. After they finish reporting, we can officially visit as a merchant caravan."

Jiang Zhaoyue didn't ask any further questions, and bent down to readjust the things on the carriage.

Yunluan had already untied the horse from the stake. She checked the saddle straps without saying a word.

Chen Ruoyao and Yun Suxin exchanged a glance, then packed their luggage, seemingly already used to this spontaneous travel rhythm.

Han Xin'er took the wilted flower out of her sleeve, looked at it, and then put it back.

Xu Fenghua stood among the crowd, her gaze fixed on the dirt road leading north, its edges blurred by the wind, as if confirming in her own way that she really wanted to continue forward.

Qin Mu walked at the front, his pace neither hurried nor slow, following the hoofprints left by the cavalry northward.

The black wolf maintained a fixed distance from him.

The wind blew across the open fields, smoothing out the edges of the fading hoofprints.

Qin Mu followed the tracks left by the cavalry for about an hour and a half.

The hoofprints on the gravel ground were sometimes deep and sometimes shallow. At first they were quite clear, but the further north you went, the stronger the wind became, and the edges of those imprints became more and more blurred, slowly merging into the gray-brown ground.

But the direction was not off.

The cavalry headed due north, traveled a long distance along a dry riverbed, and then turned at a mountain wall that appeared to be completely unmarked.

Qin Mu paused at the bend and glanced down at the ground.

The hoofprints suddenly became denser here, as if multiple groups of people and horses had once gathered here.

He looked up at the mountain wall in front of him. It didn't look much different from the surrounding terrain—a gray-brown rock face, with grooves of varying depths eroded by the wind, and a few clumps of withered shrubs sticking out from the cracks in the rock.

But when he took another dozen steps forward and turned to the side, a narrow entrance was revealed on the side of the mountain wall.

The entrance is very narrow, allowing only one horse to pass sideways, with the rock walls on both sides almost touching the shoulders.

The wind blew in from the entrance, carrying a scent even drier than that of the open field.

Qin Mu walked in sideways, with Mo Lang following closely behind.

After the entrance, there is a narrow path about twenty steps long, with the rock walls on both sides widening and the light getting brighter.

Then suddenly the view opened up before me.

It was a basin surrounded by mountain walls, with steep cliffs on all sides and a smooth top eroded by the wind.

The basin was about half the size of a drill ground, and the ground was flat and firm from being trampled, showing that people often moved around here.

Several rows of gray-white tents were arranged along the foot of the mountain, secured by thick wooden stakes and ropes, with clotheslines and wooden racks for hanging horse harnesses strung between the tents.

In the very center was a large, cleared area, the ground repeatedly compacted and covered with a layer of fine gravel.

People are practicing on the drill ground.

About thirty or forty people, dressed in old leather armor commonly seen in the Northern Barbarian lands, were repeatedly practicing the same thrusting motion while holding wooden spears.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized, and someone shouted commands, their voices carrying far and clearly in the winds of the Northern Wilderness.

Qin Mu stopped at the edge of the training ground, not in a hurry to go in.

The black wolf lay down at his feet.

Jiang Zhaoyue walked behind him, followed his gaze towards the training ground, and did not speak.

Yin Sutang was the last to emerge from the narrow path. She stood in the shadow of the rock wall for a moment, her gaze sweeping across the training ground and over the tents lined up along the foot of the mountain. Then she spoke, her voice low: "He's been here for at least two years. This isn't a temporary camp; it's a base. Anyone allowed to stay here is someone he truly trusts."

Qin Mu turned his gaze away from the training ground and onto the largest tent at the deepest part of the basin.

The tent was twice the size of the surrounding tents, and the gray felt surface was worn with fine lines by the wind and sand.

An old felt curtain hung at the entrance of the tent, from beneath which a sliver of candlelight shone.

Qin Mu strode toward the tent, his pace neither hurried nor slow.