Chapter 40: Marching Across the Starry River on a Sword

**Chapter 39: Power in the Palm**

“You’ve given us a taste of sweet justice, Yunzi. I’m sure the Patriarch won’t blame you for moving troops without permission, will he?” Little Lady Kong Tong finally spoke, her voice smooth as silk but edged with calculation.

Moving troops without authorization? That was a capital offense.

Now that Yunzi had lost her title as Lady Sovereign, she still managed to gather her old forces from the west—practically an act of rebellion.

Of course, even treason depends on context.

If it hadn’t been for Yunzi’s swift action—capturing that surprise raiding force—those four western cities would’ve already fallen. The Birdwing Brigade, the most mobile unit in their arsenal, had been pulled eastward. There was nothing left to stop the tide.

That was why Li Ying had stayed silent all this time.

He knew exactly how dire things were when the Eastern Stronghold fell. Worse still, the Lingxiao Confederation never intended peace. The proposal to make the Lady Sovereign a concubine? A ruse—a distraction while they waited for the eastern fortress to break, then a full-scale invasion.

Even Li Ying couldn’t be blind to that.

“Yunzi,” Li Ying finally said, his voice softening, “you did well. The guards remain under your command.”

He’d taken her military authority away before—not just to strip her power, but to erase her influence. Yet she’d reclaimed it in one bold stroke.

How could he punish her?

Without her loyal troops, the western border would’ve been torn apart from within. Total annihilation.

“That’s right—let Yunzi keep the guard. After all, they’re her old soldiers.”
“The Lingxiao Confederation has wolfish ambitions. Utterly despicable!”
“Wait—why didn’t we hear about the fall of Dongxu Stronghold? How is that possible?” a general asked, voice tight with disbelief.

“A traitor among us,” Li Ying said coldly.

“Best summon that dragon-taming academy student at once. He should’ve arrived by now.” Kong Tong added.

“Yes, sir.”

Li Ying already suspected the truth—but he needed to hear it confirmed.

Now, with Yunzi’s actions quelling the crisis in the west and capturing Lingxiao’s eldest son, the Confederation had a bargaining chip they couldn’t afford to ignore. They wouldn’t dare provoke further.

But the eastern uprising? That needed immediate attention.

…

The pine trees stood tall and solemn, their dark trunks like sentinels beneath a sky heavy with silence. The wedding procession—men clad in bright red ceremonial robes—moved forward like a funeral cortege, hollow-eyed, lifeless.

Word had reached them. They were now surrounded by palace guards, trapped, likely not walking out alive.

Zhu Minglang stepped through the courtyard, up the stone stairs toward the Great Council Hall. He glanced at the gaudy figures in foreign garb—so vivid, so out of place—his brow furrowed in confusion.

Inside the hall, the Li clan elders sat along both sides, faces drawn, expressions unreadable—like survivors of some great storm.

All eyes turned to him.

And there she was—Yunzi, standing at the front.

She slowly turned, as if surprised to see him. Her eyes—deep, luminous, sharp—held a light that danced between fire and shadow.

“Is that Zhu Minglang?” Kong Tong called out instantly. “The imposter who claimed kinship with our family, returned with Yunzi from the Wutu Wastes?”

Li Ying recognized him too. Back then, he hadn’t even bothered to ask questions.

Zhu Minglang didn’t care to argue with that woman. If not for the people of Ronggu City—and the frail scholar who’d sheltered in the rain—he wouldn’t have shown up here at all.

“Luo Xiao killed every messenger carrying war reports,” Zhu Minglang said flatly. “But Ronggu City still stands. Its governor, Zheng Yu, holds the narrow pass into the Li Chuan Plains—by sheer will alone.”

“A lie,” snapped General Li Pinghai, scowling. “If the stronghold fell, how could a tiny city like Ronggu resist tens of thousands of rebels? Does its governor have god-like powers?”

Zhu Minglang didn’t waste breath on fools.

His gaze drifted to Yunzi.

Today, she wore lightweight armor—no longer the delicate, fragile girl of old. There was steel beneath her beauty now, a quiet ferocity radiating from her frame. Impossible to ignore.

“Yang Xiu,” Yunzi said.

“Here, Your Highness! Right here!” The envoy stammered, trembling.

“Have you drafted the ransom letter?” she asked.

“Yes—but Your Highness hasn’t told us which city we must surrender to ensure our lord’s safe return,” Yang Xiu replied, bowing low.

Yunzi took the ink brush. With deliberate strokes, she wrote a name onto the parchment.

Yang Xiu read it carefully—then froze.

Confusion clouded his face.

Before he could speak, Yunzi walked straight to Li Ying’s seat, stepping before the throne itself.

“Father,” she said, voice clear and unyielding, “give me the command token of the Birdwing Brigade. I will end this uprising.”

“You may wield a sword, but you can only kill so many rebels. Let General Wu of the Birdwing Brigade handle this,” Li Ying replied.

Yunzi stood before him, eyes locked on his, unwavering. No retreat. No compromise.

A silence stretched across the hall.

“Yunzi,” Kong Tong began again, “you’ve earned your reward this time, but command—”

“I’m not asking,” Yunzi cut in, her tone sharpening.

Kong Tong’s jaw tightened. Li Ying’s expression darkened.

This scene—this defiance—had happened before.

Then, from the back of the hall, an ancient voice broke through the tension.

“Li Ying,” said the matriarch, her words slow, measured. “Yunzi uncovered Lingxiao’s marriage plot. She saved the four western cities. She *is* capable. We elders discussed it—we believe she should reclaim her title as Lady Sovereign. And she must lead the Birdwing Brigade to quell the uprising in Wutu.”

No one had expected her to speak. For years, she’d been silent—just another wrinkled figure in the shadows, watching, listening.

But now, her word carried weight.

Li Ying hesitated—then bowed his head. “Yes, Grandmother.”

He handed over the command token.

The Birdwing Brigade had already marched ahead. Fast-moving, mounted on flying pseudodragons—swift enough to reach Ronggu City in less than a day.

Each soldier was elite. Their mounts weren’t mere beasts—they were living weapons. A thousand could stand against ten thousand. The true core of the Li army. No wonder Li Ying had fought so hard to keep control.

Yunzi seized the token. Without a word, she turned and strode toward the door.

“Minglang,” she called. “Come.”

Zhu Minglang was still staring at Yang Xiu—the name Yunzi had written. He’d caught a glimpse, but not clearly enough.

Only when she called his name did he snap back to reality.

“Oh—right,” he said, quickening his pace. “Where are we going?”

“East,” Yunzi answered.