Chapter Twenty-Nine: Murong Yan, Where Are You?

After driving Zhang Jixian away, Ye Feng led his team into the city alongside Xu Yaozu, Li Yiqing, and Wang Erbao.

Upon entering, they were met with chilling winds and the overwhelming stench of blood. Ye Feng surveyed the scene: everywhere, crumbled walls and ruins, corpses strewn across the ground. The cries of old men searching for their children and the sobs of children echoed intermittently, mingling with the crackling of burning beams.

A deep sorrow welled up within Ye Feng, and cold tears streamed down his face. He immediately ordered his troops to begin rescue operations—extinguishing fires, burying the dead, and saving the wounded. For the elderly without family and orphaned children, he established the Bureau of Charity and Youth, assigning special caretakers.

Xu Yaozu, Li Yiqing, and Wang Erbao, unwilling to fall behind, eagerly led their own units into these efforts.

Ye Feng meticulously counted the dead and wounded soldiers, recording their names and compiling statistics. The battle had cost the Black Earth City garrison over fifteen hundred men, with more than three thousand wounded—a devastating blow.

Among the officers, Murong Bao was gravely injured, while Murong Yan and Xu Zhihui had gone missing.

The loss struck Ye Feng hard, leaving him sleepless and despondent. He devoted himself to the rescue work, lifting beams and bricks, hoping to find Murong Yan and Xu Zhihui. Even if they were dead, he wanted to recover their bodies and bid them a final farewell.

It was the depths of winter. Ye Feng trudged through the creaking snow, his hands swollen and red from carrying heavy loads, but he paid no mind. Mechanically, he searched, overturning debris. Snow piled thickly on his back, and he ignored it; some flakes slid down his neck and pierced his shirt like icy blades, but he did not flinch.

He could only mutter Murong Yan’s name, hoping to catch sight of her.

From the moment he first met Murong Yan, their fates seemed inseparably entwined. From disputes, to cooperation, to growing attachment, her every smile and gesture replayed endlessly in his mind. He had never realized it before, but now, with her lost to him, he knew he truly could not live without her. Without her, he felt adrift, his heart aching as if cut by knives.

Thus, Ye Feng, his thoughts in turmoil, continued his search for Murong Yan. More than a month passed. The rescue work had long since ended, and the soldiers had returned to their barracks. Only Ye Feng remained, scavenging like a ragpicker. His once robust frame had grown gaunt, his beard long and unkempt, as if he had aged years overnight.

No one could bear to watch anymore. They urged him to return, but Ye Feng seemed not to hear, searching every corner, his hands cracked and bleeding, leaving vivid red marks on the bricks.

Xu Yaozu lingered at the scene, unable to accept that Xu Zhihui had vanished without a trace. Seeing Ye Feng in such a state, he could not help but shed tears.

He rushed forward, grasping Ye Feng’s hands tightly, shouting, “Feng! Wake up! You must not go on like this. If your body breaks down, how will Yan feel when she learns of it?”

He continued, “Feng, I know how much it hurts not to find Yan. I feel the same! But you must accept reality—dead cannot return to life. You have many responsibilities. The people of Black Earth City depend on you. If you collapse, who will lead them? I, Old Xu, am not up to the task! Besides, since Yan’s body hasn’t been found, she may not be dead. If she returns someday and sees you like this, what then?”

Yet Ye Feng did not heed these words. He felt empty inside, and replied to himself, “No, Miss Murong is here. She must be here. If she doesn’t come out, she’s probably playing hide-and-seek with me. She’s always so mischievous; surely she’s laughing at me from her hiding spot.”

Seeing Ye Feng so lost, Xu Yaozu wiped his tears, turned, and ordered the soldiers, “Quick, take him back!”

Without further ado, the soldiers forcibly carried Ye Feng away. He tried to resist, but exhausted from his ordeal, he could not fight back. He was dragged back to the barracks.

Upon returning, the toll of his labors and exposure to the cold finally broke his iron constitution, and Ye Feng fell seriously ill. He raved daily, his fever unbroken. The name he called most was Murong Yan.

Xu Yaozu, seeing this, was anxious beyond measure.

With no one else to manage affairs, Xu Yaozu had to oversee the city himself. But he was a careless man, ill-suited to administration. He called upon Li Yiqing and Wang Erbao to help, but Li Yiqing was new and unfamiliar with the city, unable to command respect, while Wang Erbao’s mind was never sharp, making him even less fit for the job. Thus, the city’s civil and military affairs descended into chaos, no one able to untangle the mess.

One day, as Xu Yaozu fretted in the barracks, a soldier reported seeing a figure at the marketplace resembling Xu Zhihui. The soldier respectfully said, “Chief Xu, I clearly saw that figure—his build and gait match Young Master Xu exactly. He carried rice and vegetables, hurried into an alley, and disappeared. I wanted to follow, but couldn’t find him. Also, I’m not sure if my eyes deceived me. Logically, if Young Master Xu is in the city and the demon soldiers have retreated, why wouldn’t he return? But since you’re so anxious to find him and Miss Murong, I thought I should report. If I’m mistaken, please don’t blame me.”

Li Yiqing, impatient, snapped, “Nonsense! How could such a thing happen? Get out!”

His stuttering made it harder to speak than the soldier.

Xu Yaozu quickly stopped him, saying, “Qing, don’t scold the soldier. He may be telling the truth. I know my son—he often keeps things to himself and sneaks about doing shady things.”

He rewarded the soldier with two gold coins and sent him away.

The next day, Xu Yaozu dispatched more than ten soldiers in disguise to the marketplace. Sure enough, within days, they reported seeing a man like Xu Zhihui buying goods, then entering an alley and arriving at a courtyard. Upon inquiry, they learned the residents had been slaughtered by demon soldiers. Yet peering through the gate’s crack, they saw the courtyard clean and orderly—not the look of an abandoned home.

The soldiers dared not alert the occupant and returned to report.

Xu Yaozu instructed Li Yiqing and Wang Erbao to stay at the barracks, and went alone to investigate. Guided by the soldiers, he arrived at the courtyard and dismissed them. Alone, he knocked on the door.

Soon, the door creaked open. A pale, sharp-eyed face appeared—it was Xu Zhihui! Xu Zhihui saw Xu Yaozu and immediately closed the door, blocking the entrance.

He called out, “Father, why are you here?”

Xu Yaozu was furious, but suppressed it and gently urged, “Son, why are you hiding here? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

Xu Zhihui lowered his head for a long time, then replied, “Father, leave me be. Go home. I’ve decided, from this day forward, to leave the rebel army and live as a commoner.”

Xu Yaozu’s face darkened, but he quickly composed himself, stepping forward and speaking softly, “Son, I won’t stop you from leaving the army. I never hoped for great deeds from you—just your safety. But if you leave, does Yan leave too? Hand her over so she can lead the rebels against the demon soldiers.”

Xu Zhihui’s expression cooled. “No, I won’t hand my junior sister over. She’s gravely injured—how could you send her to fight and die?”

Xu Yaozu was furious, sternly rebuking him, “You leaving the army is one thing. But Yan cannot leave! Even if she dies, she cannot! Marshal Murong’s dying wish was for Yan to carry on his legacy, gather the righteous, and drive out the demons! Yan has always had this ambition. If Yan herself wishes to leave, I will not object. If you won’t hand her over, I’ll go in myself and ask her. If she truly wants to leave, I’ll accept it.”

He tried to force his way inside, but Xu Zhihui blocked him.

“Father, you can’t go in!”

Xu Yaozu grew more furious. “Why not? What are you hiding? Is Yan really here, hidden by you?”

Thinking of Murong Yan, he grew more anxious. “What’s happened to Yan? Let me see her. Do you know how many people are worried about her?”

Hearing that others cared for Murong Yan, Xu Zhihui grew jealous and snapped, “Father, it’s not you all who worry about her—it’s that Ye fellow! If he’s around, I’ll never let my junior sister return!”

Xu Yaozu was baffled. “What does Ye Feng have to do with this? How has he offended you?”

Xu Zhihui replied bitterly, “That Ye, always currying favor with my junior sister, trying to steal the one I love!”

Xu Yaozu finally understood and looked Xu Zhihui up and down, angry enough to grind his teeth. He raised his hand to slap him, but stopped midway.

Instead, he slapped himself with a resounding crack.

He sighed, “Ah! What karma have I, Old Xu, accumulated to have you all tangled in such a doomed fate?”

After a long silence, he gently advised, “Son, so this is why you’re hiding Yan. I know you love her—she’s a good girl. But she doesn’t love you!”

Xu Zhihui rolled his eyes and retorted, “When have you ever cared about me? I’ve told you countless times—I love Yan, I love Yan, I love Yan! I asked you to propose for me, but you refused, letting Ye Feng win her heart.”

Xu Yaozu shook his head, speaking with meaning, “Son, it wasn’t that I wouldn’t propose, but you two aren’t suited. Even if Ye Feng didn’t exist, there would be a Zhang Feng or Li Feng. Yan was never destined to love you.”

Xu Zhihui, humiliated and angry, argued, “Father, how am I not suited? How am I worse than Ye? I’m your own son—why do you speak for others?”

Seeing he could not persuade him, Xu Yaozu wiped his sweaty brow and scolded, “Ye Feng is gifted and ambitious—not someone you can match! Take today’s events—Ye would never act like this!”

This silenced Xu Zhihui.

“Son, step aside.”

Xu Yaozu spoke as he moved forward.

“No, I won’t let you in!”

Xu Zhihui stubbornly blocked the entrance. The two stood face-to-face, chest-to-chest, locked in confrontation.

“Move!”

Unable to bear it any longer, Xu Yaozu pushed Xu Zhihui aside and tried to enter.

“Father!” Xu Zhihui darted forward, grabbing Xu Yaozu. They struggled, and Xu Yaozu, driven to desperation, cursed, “Wretched son, because of you, Ye nearly died!”

Xu Zhihui, eyes red with frustration, retorted, “Father, you fear losing Ye’s life, but not your own son’s?”

With that, he drew his sword and pressed it to his throat.

“Son, what are you doing? Are you mad?” Xu Yaozu panicked, rushing forward to stop him.

“Father, don’t come any closer—or I’ll die right here!” Xu Zhihui pressed the blade harder, a line of blood appearing on his neck, vivid and startling.

“Don’t, don’t…” Xu Yaozu stepped back in fright, but thinking of Ye Feng’s illness and need for rescue, he steeled himself and said, “Son, there are countless women in the world—why die for one who doesn’t love you? If you insist on such disgraceful acts, I can’t stop you. If you die, I’ll find Yan and give her to Ye Feng, then join you.”

Turning, he tried to enter.

“Father, you’re so heartless!” Xu Zhihui, seeing his father determined, grew desperate and prepared to end his life.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

Murong Yan, her face pale with illness, stood in the doorway.

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