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

Huyan Lie stood in front of the main tent, the torchlight flickering on his face, casting a play of light and shadow on his roughened features, weathered by wind and sand.

He looked at Tuoba Jun but did not speak first.

Tuoba Jun did not rush to speak.

He stood there, his gaze sweeping across Huyan Lie's face and then over the main tent behind him, which was lit by candlelight, as if to confirm that there was indeed no ambush in the place he had entered.

Then he spoke: "You're quite lucky to have found someone like this."

Huyan Lie looked at him, and after a while spoke: "I am just a puppet too."

Tuoba Jun's eyebrows twitched slightly, the movement was very subtle.

His gaze lingered on Huyan Lie's face for a moment: "You admitted it quite readily."

Huyan Lie turned to the side, gesturing for Tuoba Jun to enter the tent: "What can you do if you don't admit it? When he walked into my camp, my reaction was similar to yours. My men couldn't stop him. My personal guards couldn't draw their swords. Then he sat down, told me what he wanted, and asked if I wanted to cooperate. I asked him what would happen if I didn't cooperate, and he said he would replace me with someone else."

He paused for a moment, then said, "The tone he used when he said that was exactly the same as what you just heard, as if he had said it many times before and didn't care anymore."

Tuoba Jun paused for a moment, as if he were piecing together a rough outline of a picture he had already seen using those words: "So you agreed?"

Huyan Lie glanced at him: "And you?"

Tuoba Jun did not answer immediately.

He stood at the edge of the tent flap, his gaze fixed on the wick of the candle that was flickering slowly in the flame: "I asked him to kill me, but he refused. He said I was more useful to him if I lived."

Huyan Lie suddenly chuckled softly: "You and I are the same."

Tuoba Jun's gaze shifted from the lamp wick to Huyan Lie's face: "It's different. You chose to come here voluntarily; I was brought back."

Huyan Lie did not refute.

He was silent for a moment, then turned his head and looked at the open space outside the tent, illuminated by torches: "No matter how we got here, there's only one path."

Tuoba Jun glanced at him in the direction of his gaze, then looked away: "So what do you plan to do? Are you really going to keep an eye on Northern Mang for him?"

Huyan Lie did not answer, but simply turned slightly to the side, gesturing for him to come into the tent to speak.

As the tent flaps fell, the night wind swept across the camp, making the dark blue flag on the tent flap flutter in the wind before quickly returning to calm.

As Qin Mu lifted the tent flap and walked in, the candlelight inside flickered, casting a warm yellow glow on the two figures who were talking.

He stopped, his gaze shifting from Huyan Lie's face to Tuoba Jun's, then back, as if confirming whether their positions had shifted during that time: "So? How are you going to deal with your good brother?"

Hu Yanlie's hand was still resting on the edge of the table. When he heard the question, his fingers tightened slightly, then relaxed.

He didn't answer immediately, his gaze seemingly fixed on the half-rolled-up map beneath his fingertips, or perhaps he simply needed a place to rest his eyes: "Life imprisonment."

Qin Mu raised an eyebrow slightly: "I didn't expect that you guys would still have some leeway."

Huyan Lie did not respond.

He neither denied nor explained, but simply sat down at the edge of the table.

He recalled that before he met Qin Mu, he had indeed thought more than once about what to do with Tuoba Jun after capturing him.

He was very clear about his plan at the time—to kill them and prevent future troubles.

There have been many precedents for this in the history of Northern Mang. Every person who has secured their position has experienced a similar moment, stepping onto the throne on the blood of their own people.

But now, sitting in this tent, looking at Tuoba Jun sitting opposite him with a calm gaze, without struggling, arguing, or trying to negotiate, he suddenly realized that such thoughts had receded far away.

He couldn't quite explain what kind of change it was, but he felt that the person in front of him was no longer the opponent he had always wanted to eliminate, but rather an old object that he once thought he had to destroy, but now he felt that it wasn't so bad to leave it behind.

This idea felt somewhat foreign to him, but he didn't delve into it further.

Tuoba Jun sat opposite him on the low couch. He was silent for a while before speaking: "You're not killing me because you want to keep me for later use."

Huyan Lie looked at him and did not deny it: "You are more useful now that you are alive than when you are dead."

Tuoba Jun did not ask any further questions.

He sat there, his gaze fixed on his hands, pausing for a moment as if trying to process the weight of those four words in his own way.

Qin Mu stood at the edge of the tent flap, watching the subtle movements between them. He spoke, his voice neither loud nor soft: "I won't interfere in your brotherly affairs. But remember to keep your promise to me."

After saying this, he turned around, lifted the tent flap, and went out.

The curtain fell behind him, once again covering the torch-lit open space outside, blocking out the night wind and the sounds of people slowly readjusting themselves.

After the tent flaps were closed again, the air inside the tent seemed to be gently stirred before slowly settling back into place.

The candlelight burned quietly in the lamp, casting two figures on the felt wall, one sitting and the other standing, separated by the map that was repeatedly unfolded and rolled up.

Tuoba Jun sat on the edge of the low couch, his hands resting on his knees.

His gaze fell on the map where the cornerstone had been removed, as if he were still confirming that the path he had just taken had indeed not led to any forks.

He spoke in a low voice: "Who exactly is he? I know everyone in Northern Mang, but he's not among those I've met."

He paused for a moment, "I've met swordsmen from the Western Regions, but his style is different. He seems to come from another place, yet he knows this land as if he's been here for many years."

Huyan Lie sat down on the other side of the low table. He didn't answer immediately, as if he was waiting for the water in the pot to heat up on its own.

When those four words fell into the air, the candlelight opposite the low couch flickered.

Tuoba Jun stopped moving.

His hands were still resting on his knees, neither closed nor open, just sitting there.

He looked at Huyan Lie, as if he were putting those four words back in their rightful place in his own way, taking them out to look at them again, to confirm that he hadn't misheard: "Emperor of the Great Qin?"

His voice was lower than before, as if confirming something he needed time to fully accept: "That Emperor of Qin?"

Hu Yanlie looked at him and did not repeat himself.

Tuoba Jun slowly leaned back in his chair.

His gaze was unfocused, as if he were piecing together the fragments from before into a new picture—his personal guards couldn't draw their swords, the sorcerer's power couldn't get close, the Western Region swordsman's scimitar was disarmed by a single finger, and the people in his own tent were frozen in place without even noticing.

Those things he didn't fully understand back then are now falling back into their rightful places, piece by piece.

He lowered his eyes, his voice even softer than before: "How long has he been in Northern Mang?"

Huyan Lie did not answer, and Tuoba Sun did not ask any further questions.

He sat there as if he were rearranging his completely messed-up old belongings, picking up everything he thought he understood thoroughly, examining it again, and then putting it back in a completely new place.

When Qin Mu returned to the carriage, the fire had been rekindled.

The orange-red light spread out a warm, glowing circle at the edge of the campsite, elongating the silhouette of the withered poplar tree and casting it onto the sandy ground.

Jiang Zhaoyue was squatting by the fire, poking at the ashes at the edge of the embers with a twig. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and said, "Young Master is back."

Her tone was as calm as ever, but beneath that calmness seemed to lie a hint of inquiry.

Qin Mu sat down by the fire and accepted a bowl of hot tea from Xu Fenghua.

He didn't rush to drink it, but held it in his hand, waiting for the steam to gather in his palm for a while before speaking: "The First Prince did not kill the Second Prince."

Jiang Zhaoyue paused slightly before continuing to tend to the charcoal fire.

She put down the branch and looked up: "He chose to let it go?"

"Life imprisonment," Qin Mu said.

Han Xin'er was sitting on the other side of the fire, holding a blade of grass in her hand, as if she was weaving something, or as if she was just holding it.

Her gaze lingered on Qin Mu's face for a moment: "Then... could he be leaving himself a way out? Keeping the Second Prince around, so that if anything changes in the future, he'll have another bargaining chip?"

Qin Mu looked down at the slowly spreading ripples in the bowl, without looking up: "Perhaps."

Xu Fenghua sat beside him, holding a teacup in her hand as well: "So, is it a good thing or a bad thing for us that he kept the Second Prince?"

Qin Mu picked up the teacup, took a sip, and put it down. "It doesn't matter. As long as he behaves obediently, even if he has ulterior motives, it doesn't matter. After all, people's hearts are unpredictable, and even people of the same clan have different surnames, let alone people of different clans."

Lin Xiaolu, squatting at the edge of the fire, paused for a moment upon hearing this: "Isn't Young Master worried that he might change his mind later?"

Qin Mu placed the empty teacup at his feet: "His reneging is contingent on him still having the ability to do so. He has already handed over the map and troop deployment of Northern Mang to us, and the Xuan Yin Sect has also switched sides. What he has left is insufficient to support him in returning to his original path."

Chen Ruoyao's voice came from the other side of the fire, not loud, but with a seriousness as if she were confirming some detail: "What will happen to the Second Prince next? Will he be locked up in the tent for the rest of his life?"

Qin Mu did not answer immediately.

He reached out and picked up a dry twig from the edge of the fire, poked at the embers to let the flames rise again: "That's how it is for now. What happens in the future depends on his own choices."

Yin Sutang sat on the carriage shaft without saying a word.

The firelight flickered across her profile.

After a moment, she spoke: "So, what are your plans, young master, to deal with them next?"

Qin Mu placed the dry branch back on the edge of the fire: "Let them wait here for now. Once things settle down in Northern Mang, someone will naturally take over the cleanup."

The night wind blew across the open field, carrying a few sparks from the embers of the fire, which drifted into the depths of the night and quickly disappeared from sight.

The black wolf lay down at the edge of the camp, its cubs curled up beside it, their gray fur gleaming faintly in the firelight.

No one in the camp asked any more questions.

Qin Mu closed the scroll of "Travels in the Northern Lands," placed it on his lap, and looked up from the fire at Yin Sutang: "Elder Yin, what's the situation with the Third Prince?"

Yin Sutang remained seated on the carriage shaft, the firelight flickering on her profile, casting a play of light and shadow on her face.

She didn't answer immediately when she heard the question, as if she was checking a few details in her mind before speaking: "The Third Prince's Wuhuan camp is about two days' journey from us, in a place called 'Qingshi Ferry' on the upper reaches of the Wule River. The terrain there is higher than here, and the water and grass are relatively abundant, unlike Fengling Ferry, which is constantly eroded by sandstorms. His tent is larger than the First Prince's and smaller than the Second Prince's, but it is arranged more meticulously than both of them—in the center of his camp there is an open space enclosed by stones, which is specifically used for meetings and sacrifices."

She paused for a moment: "The most noteworthy person around him is not a military general, but a strategist. It is said that the man came from the Western Regions a few years ago, originally traveling between several tribes, offering advice to others. Later, he caught the eye of the Third Prince and has been kept by his side ever since. Many of the Third Prince's decisions are implemented only after that man's approval. The Third Prince himself, on the contrary, seems to have... taken a step back."

Qin Mu tapped his fingers lightly on his knee twice: "Then he probably doesn't know about the Xuan Yin Sect's shift in allegiance yet."

Yin Sutang thought for a moment: "The Xuan Yin Sect's information transmission is always only guaranteed to be foolproof if the sect leader personally oversees it. When Sect Leader Su left just now, he probably hadn't had time to send the message over yet. Given the information channels on the Wuhuan side, it will probably take another one or two days before we hear anything."

Qin Mu picked up "Travels in the North" again, opened a page, and scanned the charcoal lines marking place names and routes: "Then let's go and take a look before he knows it."

He closed the booklet, put it in his sleeve, and stood up: "Get ready, we'll leave before dawn."

The people got up one after another and began to tidy up the fire and the felt mats.

Before dawn, the team set off again.

The black wolf continued walking behind the carriage, with its cubs following behind in a loose line. Occasionally, if one of them lagged behind by a few steps, the wolf would stop and wait for it to catch up before continuing on its way.

Their pace was more steady than when they first set off.

The carriage slowly traveled upstream along the Ule River. The river was much narrower than downstream, but the current was faster, and the turbid water surface shimmered with a layer of fine silver light in the morning light.

The vegetation on both sides of the river is denser than downstream, and occasionally you can see a few clumps of low shrubs with dried berries hanging from their branches, swaying gently in the wind.

After walking for about two hours, the terrain ahead began to rise slowly.

A gray-green outline appeared on the distant horizon.

Yin Sutang lifted the carriage curtain and glanced inside, then lowered it again: "About ten miles ahead is Qing Shi Ferry. The Third Prince's camp is on high ground at the bend of the river; you can see the gray flag in the center of the camp from a distance."

Qin Mu leaned against the carriage wall, not lifting the curtain to look outside: "After we arrive at Qing Shi Ferry, don't rush to approach the camp. Find a spot nearby where you can see the entire camp but won't attract attention, and stop for a while. I want to see what the Third Prince's camp looked like before he received the news."

Jiang Zhaoyue sat opposite him, the rolled-up map in her hand now neatly folded: "Is Young Master worried that the Third Prince has already received word, or is he trying to glean something from the camp's defenses?"

Qin Mu tapped his fingers lightly on his knee: "Neither. I just wanted to see what a person's daily life is like before meeting them."