At this moment, Shen Qingwan also saw them.

Behind those people, a group of pursuers was closing in, outnumbering the ones being chased.

Seeing that the fleeing people were about to reach her, Shen Qingwan decisively cut the reins of her carriage, flipped onto her horse, and took action.

With one hand gripping the reins and the other holding a blade, she slashed the moment the enemies rushed forward.

The Northern Rong soldier at the front took a direct hit to the shoulder blade, tumbling off his horse instantly.

The Northern Rong soldiers had already been chased to this point, but they hadn’t expected to encounter a roadblock.

Seeing that Shen Qingwan was alone, they naturally wouldn’t let her off.

A group of three or four dozen men immediately surrounded her, sealing off any escape.

Shen Qingwan held her blade horizontally across her chest, showing no fear—on the contrary, there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.

By the time Beichen Yuan arrived with reinforcements, he saw that Shen Qingwan had single-handedly stopped the Northern Rong soldiers.

Though he had fought Shen Qingwan before, they had never truly dueled, so this was the first time he had seen her kill.

Yes, kill—not just fight.

Every strike of her blade was meant to be lethal.

Her movements were simple, brutal, and efficient, without any unnecessary flourish.

Against the Northern Rong soldiers, she cut them down as easily as chopping vegetables.

Beichen Yuan didn’t intervene—his soldiers were more than enough to handle the rest.

Seeing his reinforcements arrive, Shen Qingwan swiftly disengaged from the fight.

“Master Shen, you truly have impressive skills. It’s a pity…” Beichen Yuan commented.

Shen Qingwan immediately understood what he meant.

In the Great Xia, no woman had ever served in the military.

His remark implied that it was a pity she was a woman—otherwise, with her skills, she would have achieved great success in the army.

However, Shen Qingwan had no interest in joining the military. Even if she were a man, she wouldn’t enlist.

She preferred a carefree life, without lacking money or companionship.

At most, she wanted to contribute to the economic and agricultural development of the Great Xia—nothing more.

“Your Highness, with such a god-like appearance, yet you always wear a mask—what a pity,” she quipped in response.

The moment she said it, she realized her words sounded odd—almost as if she were obsessed with his face.

To be honest, she was somewhat intrigued. Keeping him around as a personal companion might not be a bad idea.

“Between me and Murong, who do you think is better looking?” Beichen Yuan asked on impulse.

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Shen Qingwan’s lips curled into a smirk.

She responded candidly, “Each has their own charm.”

Her tone was exactly like that of a wealthy young master evaluating courtesans, daring to compare and critique them. This woman was truly insane.

Beichen Yuan’s face darkened instantly.

Seeing this, Shen Qingwan casually touched her nose and added, “But I suppose Murong Wushuang doesn’t have as good a physique as Your Highness.”

She recalled their first meeting at the inn when she had stripped Beichen Yuan’s shirt.

That lean yet muscular body, with sharply defined abs and a prominent V-line—truly a case of looking slim in clothes but powerful underneath.

“Shen Qing!”

Beichen Yuan gritted his teeth, but by the time he reacted, Shen Qingwan had already fled.

As handsome as this man was, his temper was too terrible—too much trouble to deal with.

Murong Wushuang was more her type.

Every time she saw his cold, ethereal, immortal-like face, she had the urge to tease him until he cried.

But in this era, purity was highly valued.

If she really bullied Murong Wushuang, would he demand she take responsibility?

Thinking of this, Shen Qingwan dismissed her mischievous thoughts.

She reminded herself not to torment innocent men.

…

In the northern region, November was a time of harsh winds carrying yellow sand through the air.

The biting cold cut into people’s skin like knives.

Outside the city of Suzhou, refugees shivered in the frigid wind. Their tattered shelters barely provided any protection against the cold.

Lacking warm clothing and shelter, many continued to freeze to death, even as food aid was distributed.

A few days ago, Shen Qingwan had begun purchasing large quantities of winter supplies, but the nearby towns had limited resources. Left with no choice, she contacted Bai Erye for help.

Second Master Bai Erye agreed to gather a batch of winter clothes and bedding for her.

Shen Qingwan knew she couldn’t save everyone alone—nor was she noble enough to try.

She simply wanted to put her ill-gotten wealth to good use and save as many lives as possible.

Meanwhile, Zhao Zhuo was overwhelmed by the crisis, but he was powerless. He had neither money nor supplies to distribute—he could only worry helplessly.

The only good news was that the Northern Rong army had been pushed back dozens of miles after a series of victories by the Northern Frontier Army.

With the severe winter setting in, the enemy was unlikely to launch another attack anytime soon.

Shortly after the battle report reached the capital, Beichen Yuan received an urgent message—an imperial edict delivered at top speed.

The emperor had passed away.

Prince Liang and Prince Huainan had already begun secretly marching their troops toward the capital.

Beichen Yuan had to rush back, but the Northern Frontier Army still needed to guard the border.

Though they had enough supplies for now, and Generals Meng and Murong Wushuang were stationed there, Beichen Yuan had no choice but to leave them in charge.

The day after Beichen Yuan departed, Shen Qingwan also set out for Yongzhou.

Though she started later, she traveled at night and rested in towns during the day, making her journey faster.

Beichen Yuan, however, encountered ambush after ambush the moment he left the northern camp.

Along the way, he killed countless assassins blocking his path.

By the time he reached Licheng, he found an inn to rest in.

Knowing the night wouldn’t be peaceful, he remained on high alert, while Xuantian stood guard in the shadows.

Sure enough, in the dead of night, the inn finally fell into silence—only for an unexpected attack to begin.

This time, the method of assassination caught Xuantian off guard.

As a snake as thick as a thumb slithered into the room, Xuantian was stunned.

Where had the snake come from?

More importantly, it was winter—shouldn’t it be hibernating?

The moment the snakes entered the room, Xuantian rushed in.

Inside, Beichen Yuan had already sat up, holding a vibrantly colored snake in his hand.

The rest of the snakes had been sliced in half and were still writhing on the ground.

“Master! Were you bitten?” Xuantian saw the tiny drop of blood on Beichen Yuan’s finger.

Beichen Yuan crushed the snake in his grip and flung it aside. He had been careless—grabbing the snake with his bare hand.

The wound was small, but his expression darkened as he looked toward the door, speaking in an icy tone.

“Snake Lady, are you still not planning to show yourself?”

As soon as he finished speaking, a strange yet seductive laugh echoed from the doorway.

Moments later, a woman dressed in flamboyant attire, with a curvaceous figure, sashayed into the room.

Her makeup was bold, her lips red as fire, and coiled around her neck was a snake with a striking red-and-black pattern. It flicked its tongue menacingly, sending chills down the spine of anyone watching.

“My dear, it’s been so long! Did you miss me?” The woman swayed closer, her body moving like a snake.

Beichen Yuan immediately struck out, but she evaded his attack with ease—her movements eerily elusive.

Beichen Yuan loathed her proximity, but no matter how he attacked, she slipped away like an untouchable spirit.

“Hand over the antidote,” Beichen Yuan growled, his face turning red.

He didn’t need to ask—he already knew.

He had been poisoned.

And it was the deadliest kind—the aphrodisiac venom from the snake’s bite.