Lu Chen held the parchment in his hands, eyes fixed upon it, yet he remained silent for nearly a quarter of an hour.
This—this was the real storm he had been dreading ever since stepping into Beijun.
To tell the truth, if he simply failed to fend off the barbarian invasion and retreated from his fiefdom back to the capital, the worst that would befall him would be punishment. Perhaps a demotion, some political backlash—but not death.
However, if he willingly abandoned his domain, left his people to die, and fled to safety, then his reputation as a prince would be irreparably damaged. No matter how many meritorious deeds he performed later, it would be a stain that could never be scrubbed clean.
A king who deserts his subjects and forsakes his land will forever be condemned—his name etched on history's pillar of shame.
Yet if he chose to stay… then came the even grimmer reality.
Thirty thousand troops against three hundred thousand barbarian cavalry.
And worse, it was infantry against cavalry!
There were thirteen counties in Beijun. Thirteen cities. Thirty thousand soldiers weren't nearly enough to defend them all.
Even more troubling was the fact that he had no idea from which direction the barbarians would strike.
Qin Yushan, noticing Lu Chen's prolonged silence, stopped speaking altogether. He simply stood there beside him, waiting patiently.
For a while, the study was so quiet it felt unnatural. Even the buzzing of a mosquito seemed deafening in comparison.
Lu Chen's thoughts drifted to the 122mm howitzers he had secretly deployed. Two hundred of those could certainly shake the battlefield.
People in this world had never witnessed such devastating firepower. Their very ignorance could be his advantage—shock and terror might rout the enemy before a proper engagement even began.
But then came another worry: the barbarian cavalry were scattered and extremely mobile. What if, upon witnessing the destructive power of the howitzers, they chose to retreat instead?
That thought made Lu Chen pause.
Wait a moment... wasn't he supposed to be worried about defending Beijun?
Why was he suddenly worried about the enemy running away?
The absurdity of the situation made the corners of his lips curl into a wicked grin.
If—just if—he could lure all 300,000 cavalry into a single location… then maybe, just maybe, thirty thousand could defeat three hundred thousand.
Of course, the odds of such a thing were slim. The barbarians wouldn't be foolish enough to cluster their forces. With such numbers, it was inevitable that they'd split into smaller groups and attack multiple targets.
Unless… there was something—or somewhere—irresistible enough to draw them in as one.
The idea gnawed at him for a while. But eventually, Lu Chen shook his head.
He wasn't a war strategist. This kind of thinking was best left to professionals.
He could sit here all night, dreaming up scenarios, but in the end, it was nothing but fantasy. He had never been on a battlefield in his previous life, and in this one, he had yet to fight a proper war. Any plans he made alone might do more harm than good.
No matter how elaborate his thoughts, it was still all theory.
With that, Lu Chen finally spoke. "Tomorrow morning, summon the key generals and the governors of Beijun to the palace."
Qin Yushan immediately understood the intent—Lu Chen was planning to gather them for a military council and discuss countermeasures before making any critical decisions.
---
Meanwhile.
Baihua Tower.
Within a perfumed chamber, behind veils of mist and incense, a graceful figure loomed within a wooden tub. Wang Qingci was bathing. Her skin, porcelain pale, shimmered beneath the water as droplets trickled down her body like beads of dew.
A maid's voice floated in from behind the curtain. "Master, someone from the Blood Moon Tower has arrived."
The words caused Wang Qingci to rise immediately from the water. As she stepped out, the light caught on her figure—slender and ethereal, like a lotus blooming after rain.
Moments later, clothed in soft robes, Wang Qingci ascended to the third floor of Baihua Tower.
There, beside the railing, stood a man in white. He was gazing toward the distant silhouette of the Northern Palace.
The scene tugged at her memory.
She had seen this before.
The former deputy head of the Blood Moon Tower had once stood just like this—silent and brooding—eyes fixed on that same palace.
When Wang Qingci entered the attic, her tone turned light and sarcastic. "Master Zhou, you're finally here. I've long been waiting to leave this cursed place—Yancheng."
The man in white turned slowly to face her. A soft smile curved his lips. "Miss Wang, you've endured much. I appreciate your loyalty."
Zhou Hanwen was nothing like the previous heads of the Blood Moon Tower. Dressed in white, with the appearance of a frail scholar, he exuded elegance and refinement.
But beneath that genteel appearance hid a master of terrifying skill.
He spoke plainly, "Miss Wang, I've heard that the Prince of the North is preparing to take a concubine. Is that true?"
Wang Qingci confirmed with a nod. "It is. But why does that concern Lord Zhou? Planning to send a female assassin to sneak into the palace and take his life?"
She chuckled bitterly, as if recalling some bitter memory. "If that's your plan, I suggest you reconsider. Chu Yuqin, his loyal swordmaiden, is already a half-step grandmaster. She's with him day and night. Even eavesdrops outside when he's… indulging with his women."
"Send an assassin? She wouldn't even make it through the courtyard. Back then, it was Chu Yuqin alone who slaughtered our Baihua Tower's best assassins. I suspect it won't be long before she steps into the realm of grandmasters."
Zhou Hanwen frowned at her words. "I was thinking of sending someone, but given what you've said… it seems our only option is to lure him outside."
"Preferably alone. Separated from that swordmaiden and that mysterious master by his side."
Then Zhou's frown vanished, replaced with a calm, eerie smile. He looked straight at Wang Qingci. "Miss Wang, the Prince of the North is known to be rather… indulgent. Has he taken an interest in you?"
Wang Qingci didn't hesitate. "He has. He's concerned for my health and often visits. For the sake of the mission, I've been keeping him at arm's length. If Lord Zhou needs me, just say the word."
Zhou Hanwen nodded. "Then I'd like you to lure him to Baihua Tower. The closer he gets, the higher our chances of success."
Wang Qingci responded with composure. "That won't be a problem. But even if I convince him to come alone, Chu Yuqin and the other master will likely follow in secret."
Zhou smiled again, this time with a darker edge. "That would actually work in our favor."
"If we can lure all three out of the palace… then the Blood Moon Tower will have a golden opportunity."
He wasn't so naïve as to believe that revenge required an immediate kill.
No, a slower torment was far more satisfying.
If those two protectors left, the Northern Palace would be laid bare. The Blood Moon Tower could infiltrate it, slaughter his concubines and servants, and leave only carnage behind.
He wanted the Northern King to watch—to see their bloodied corpses, to witness his harem turned to ruins.
But assassination wasn't the only purpose behind his visit to Beijun.
There was another mission.
The Blood Moon Tower had come to steal the secrets of the Northern Palace—the formula for soap, and the crafting methods behind the perfumes that had recently shaken the entire continent.
If they could draw the grandmaster away, even for a short while, they could seize what they came for.
In Zhou Hanwen's eyes, the Northern Palace only had one true powerhouse.
Without that master present, the palace was little more than a slaughterhouse waiting for its butchers.
Wang Qingci smiled faintly, her lips curling into a sly arc. "In that case, I'll invite the Northern King to Baihua Tower tonight."
Zhou Hanwen dipped his head respectfully. "Then I'll trouble you, Miss Wang."
Wang Qingci's smile remained. "No need to be so polite, Lord Zhou. This is my duty."
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