Rise of a Lonely City: From Exiled Prince to Ruler of the Nine Provinces

Spring comes late to the North, but once it arrives, it possesses a kind of overwhelming, almost tyrannical vitality that sweeps away all decadence.

The permafrost softened under the sun, and the scent of black earth mixed with the coolness of the remaining snow filled the air.

After a winter of hibernation, the plants and trees eagerly sprout new buds, turning the once yellowish mountains and fields into vast expanses of new green.

In the frigid abyss, this vitality not only belongs to nature, but also permeates every inch of land and every corner with an almost fanatical intensity.

Zhenbei City, the heart of the northern border, is beating and expanding at an unprecedented pace.

The city walls were reinforced and heightened once again, and the newly built barbican and arrow towers stood tall, gleaming with the cold, hard luster of metal and rock under the spring sun.

Inside the city, the wide and flat streets are paved with bluestone, bustling with traffic and crowds.

Merchants from all over the country, speaking in various accents, haggled over prices in front of the dazzling array of shops.

Fur, medicinal herbs, ironware, salt, grain, seafood from the East China Sea, fine horses from Xiliang, and even rare treasures from the Western Regions all converged and were traded here. Wealth flowed like blood through the veins of this emerging megacity.

Outside the city, the newly opened farmland stretched as far as the eye could see, with lush green wheat seedlings rippling in the spring breeze.

The irrigation canals built in accordance with the new "Agricultural Administration" law act like veins, precisely channeling melted snow water to the fields.

The farmers, their faces filled with hope, carefully tended to their crops.

On the official road, horse-drawn carriages and pack animals laden with goods came and went in an endless stream, and the post stations connecting Zhenbei City with various counties and even beyond the northern border continued to extend, transmitting government orders, military intelligence and business opportunities.

On the training ground of the military academy, the sounds of battle were deafening.

The new training manual was strictly enforced: formation drills, slashing, archery, and changing formations... Sweat soaked through the young soldiers' armor, but no one complained. Instead, their eyes burned with a burning desire for merit and power.

The veterans were selected to join the newly formed "training team" and passed on their experience, honed in blood and fire, to the new recruits without reservation.

The Institute of Geology and its subordinate workshops, especially the military workshop, operated almost day and night.

The furnace fire burns year-round, and the whooshing of the bellows, the clanging of the hammers, and the turning of the gears intertwine to create a rugged and powerful industrial prelude.

Bundles of newly forged swords and spears, sets of fine armor, powerful crossbows, and all sorts of novel and unnamed machine parts flowed out of here in an endless stream, equipping the army of Hanyuan.

The air is always filled with the unique smell of coal, molten iron, tung oil, and sweat.

The Jingbei Prince's Mansion was expanded and renovated on its already grand foundation.

High walls and deep courtyards, majestic palaces and towering buildings, a magnificent sight.

Officials and soldiers coming and going all had solemn expressions and hurried steps, yet maintained perfect order.

Every order issued here affects the pulse of the entire Northern Territory.

Deep within the Prince's Mansion's rear garden, in the heavily guarded sand table chamber, the lights often remain on until late at night.

More than two hundred miles away from Zhenbei City, deep within the Black Wind Gorge, a place unmarked on any map and known locally as the "Ghost's Bane," another, even more brutal and secretive forging process was underway.

Here, isolated from the warm and vibrant spring outside, there is only a perpetual, chilly mist and dark, sheer cliffs on both sides, as if carved by a knife and axe.

Deep within the canyon, relying on natural caves and man-made camps, lies the secret training base of the Xuanjia Guards.

Of the first batch of 300 candidates selected from the entire army, Night Owls, and even civilians, only 107 remained after the initial test of will and loyalty.

And this is just the beginning.

"Faster! Faster! Are you women? You're so slow at climbing a rope!" The rough roar echoed below the cliff.

The shirtless, muscular instructor, holding a leather whip, stared fiercely at the figures struggling to climb the near-vertical cliff with only a rope.

Every now and then someone would slip and fall due to exhaustion, landing in the rope net or sandpit below. Immediately, a companion or instructor would rush over, either to help them up, to scold them, or to splash a bucket of ice water on them to wake them up.

In another muddy swamp, the trainees were submerged in the cold, foul-smelling muddy water, with only their nostrils and eyes showing, undergoing static covert training that lasted for several hours.

Mosquito bites, leech bites, and the cold muddy water that takes away body heat challenge both physical and mental limits.

The slightest movement would result in the instructor's crossbow bolt striking precisely nearby, splashing up dirty water.

Rock climbing, swimming, cross-country running with weights, hand-to-hand combat, assassination, demolition, camouflage, interrogation and counter-interrogation, wilderness survival, multi-weapon use, team tactical coordination... the training subjects are so numerous that they are breathtaking, and the intensity is unbelievable.

Food supplies are rationed, sleep is severely lacking, injuries are commonplace, and death is not far off.

In just a few months, the original 107 people were reduced by 19.

The remaining people had dark, cracked skin and were covered in wounds, but their eyes were like blades that had been repeatedly tempered—sharp, cold, and resolute. They seemed to have shed some of the softness of "humanity" and were evolving into some kind of more efficient and pure killing and survival machine.

Xiao Chen would occasionally visit this "purgatory" in person.

He always observed in silence and rarely spoke.

But every time he leaves, the training syllabus always adds a few more stringent, even "abnormal," requirements.

No one complained, because those who remained here knew what a deadly blade they were being forged into, and how high the expectations of those who wielded it were.

In stark contrast to the silent, terrifying land of the North, lies the capital city of the South.

There, the promise of spring was utterly extinguished by the bloody stench of power.

Emperor Jinglong remained unconscious. His occasional moments of lucidity consisted only of incoherent babbling before he would fall back into a deeper slumber.

The imperial physicians were at a loss and could only keep him alive with medication.

This breath became the most uncertain fuse hanging in everyone's hearts.

Crown Prince Xiao Jue's "regency" had long been a mere formality under increasingly blatant pressure from Prince Qin, Xiao Rui, and Prince Jin, Xiao Ming. The attacks from the court finally spilled over into the streets.

Today, several stewards of the Prince of Qin's mansion "died suddenly" on Zhuque Street; tomorrow, the carriage of an official from the Crown Prince's Eastern Palace "accidentally" overturned into the Jinshui River; and the day after tomorrow, a general under the Prince of Jin's command had his throat slit in a brothel.

When soldiers from the Jinwu Guard, Shence Army, and Five City Garrison met on patrol in the streets, their eyes would clash with sparks, and small-scale shoving and fighting often occurred.

The people of Shenjing were already used to keeping their doors and windows tightly shut after nightfall. Even so, the occasional shouts of battle and the clash of weapons from afar would still make people tremble in their beds.

Grain prices soared, shops closed in large numbers, and refugees began to appear at the foot of the city walls, only to be driven away by fierce-looking soldiers.

An apocalyptic sense of panic and despair spread throughout the capital.

The prestige and dignity accumulated by the Great Xia Dynasty over three hundred years are being torn to shreds by its successors, revealing the hideous, festering wounds beneath.

All the feudal lords and forces from all directions were secretly watching the chaos in the capital, while also casting their gazes toward the silent land to the north.

Prince Jingbei, Xiao Chen, and his Hanyuan Iron Cavalry, like giant beasts crouching in the shadows, remained motionless, yet exuded a chilling sense of oppression.

The alliance between Xiliang, Donghai and Hanyuan is becoming increasingly close, with frequent caravan exchanges and military exchanges taking place in secret.

Some governors and prefects in the south began to secretly send their trusted confidants northward with lavish gifts, hoping to find some shelter under the great tree of Hanyuan in advance.

A heavy, oppressive feeling, like "a storm is brewing," was not an illusion, but a real feeling that enveloped the hearts of everyone who had even a slight awareness of the current situation.

The sky over the mainland, as if grasped by an invisible hand, is slowly and irreversibly darkening.

In Zhenbei City, on the highest "Star Gazing Platform" of the Jingbei Prince's Mansion.

Night had fallen, the sky was filled with stars, and the Milky Way stretched across the heavens.

The early spring night breeze still carried a chill, fluttering the hem of their clothes.

Xiao Chen and Murong Xue stood side by side, looking down at the sleeping giant city below.

The lights of thousands of homes shone like stars, and further away, the faint outline of military camps and the ever-burning firelight of workshops could be seen.

This city, like its master, accumulates immense power in silence.

Murong Xue was dressed in a moon-white outfit, with a silver fox fur coat over it, her black hair being gently lifted by the night breeze.

She gazed southwards into the darkness, where nothing could be seen, a thousand miles away, in the capital city engulfed in bloodshed and chaos.

After a long silence, she spoke softly, her voice carried clearly by the night breeze:

"Your Highness, when will the time be right?"

Xiao Chen did not answer immediately.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his posture as upright as a pine tree, his deep gaze directed towards the endless darkness of the south, as if he could pierce through the mountains and rivers to see the imperial capital that was burning madly.

His profile was clearly defined under the starlight, calm and undisturbed, except for a deep, indescribable light that flickered in his eyes—ambition, composure, ruthless decisiveness, and absolute patience.

After a moment, his deep and clear voice rang out, each word seemingly carrying immense weight:

"When those people in Shenjing have exhausted their last bit of strength and the support of the people."

"When the blood that has been spilled can no longer extinguish the anger and despair in the hearts of the people."

"When the last fig leaf of the Great Xia was torn off by themselves, leaving them completely naked."

He paused slightly, then withdrew his gaze to Murong Xue's cool and aloof face beside him. The glint in his eyes transformed into a calm, all-encompassing power:

"Let our swords be sharpened enough, our armor made strong enough, and our provisions stored up enough to last until next winter."

"Soon."

He spoke the last two words very softly, yet they struck Murong Xue's heart like a heavy hammer, and seemed to strike the restless pulse of the era beneath the deep night.

The night wind howled past, stirring up the dust on the observatory.

In the distance, from Han Yuan's military camp, the faint sound of a watchtower signaling the time could be heard, long and chilling.

A storm is brewing wildly beyond the horizon.

Meanwhile, in the north, the wolf, its claws sharpened, had quietly raised its head, its eerie green eyes locking onto the rich yet chaotic hunting grounds of the south.

Silence, for that earth-shattering leap.