Mo Chen returned to his estate in silence. Before he even stepped through the main gate, he saw his warhorse grazing in the distance. He cast a hurried glance at it, a thought flashing through his mind, but then, without hesitation, he turned and began walking toward the Imperial Palace. He was prepared to return to the border to continue his post; after all, his original intentions had already vanished.
However, just as Mo Chen had taken a few steps and was about to set foot on the path to the palace, a flurry of hurried footsteps sounded from behind him. Then, the butler’s slightly anxious voice reached his ears: "My lord, His Highness the Crown Prince is here!"
Hearing this, Mo Chen’s pace came to an abrupt halt, a look of surprise crossing his face. "The Crown Prince?" he muttered to himself, his mind beginning to churn. Under normal circumstances, a visit from the Crown Prince at this hour was entirely unexpected.
"Where is the Crown Prince now?" Mo Chen steadied himself, turning back to ask the butler.
The butler bowed his head slightly and replied respectfully, "Returning to you, my lord, His Highness is currently inside the estate."
Upon hearing this, Mo Chen’s brows knit tightly together. He did not press further as to when the Crown Prince had arrived; instead, he took a deep breath, pushed open the heavy gate, and walked inside.
As the door opened, Mo Chen’s gaze was immediately drawn to a single figure. A golden-haired man, dressed in opulent robes and possessing a refined, scholarly air, was seated in the hall, sipping tea. His features were as perfect as carved jade, and every gesture he made exuded an innate nobility.
When Xue Qinghe sensed someone entering, he quickly set down his teacup and rose to greet Mo Chen. "General Mo, I have been eagerly awaiting your triumphant return for quite some time. It is a pity you did not come to the Eastern Palace first; I had prepared fine wine and dishes in your honor," Xue Qinghe said with a gentle smile and a soft tone.
"Greetings, Your Highness!" Mo Chen said, bowing his head slightly and cupping his hands in a salute.
Xue Qinghe smiled and reached out to support Mo Chen’s arms. "General, there is no need for such formalities. If not for your timely intervention and righteous aid years ago, I would likely have perished in the maw of that Soul Beast! This debt of life is something I have kept inscribed in my heart."
With that, Xue Qinghe fixed a gaze full of gratitude upon Mo Chen, refusing to look away for a long time.
He recalled the time he had gone to obtain his third Soul Ring and had unexpectedly encountered a 50,000-year-level One-Eyed Kong. The creature was massive, standing like a small mountain before them, emitting a heart-stopping pressure. More problematic was that One-Eyed Kongs were pack animals; even if they were only 50,000 years old, even the Dark Demon Evil God Tiger in the forest would not dare easily provoke a pack of them. At the time, the strongest guard accompanying Xue Qinghe was merely a six-ring Spirit Emperor. Despite their impressive strength, they were spread thin against a group of One-Eyed Kongs, each at least 5,000 years old, and could hardly protect Xue Qinghe effectively.
It was then that Mo Chen, who had come to obtain his seventh Soul Ring, happened upon the ambush and offered his assistance. Relying on the suppression his Torch Dragon Martial Soul exerted over other beast-type Martial Souls, Mo Chen had easily driven the One-Eyed Kongs away.
Xue Qinghe stared straight into Mo Chen’s eyes, as if trying to peer through them to uncover the secrets hidden deep within his heart. Although Mo Chen had forged a remarkably resilient temperament in the crucible of military life, he could not hide the trace of sorrow in his eyes from Xue Qinghe’s keen insight.
"Does the General have something weighing on his mind?" Xue Qinghe asked, his tone gentle and filled with concern.
"Your Highness..."
Before he could finish, Xue Qinghe waved his hand dismissively and said with a smile, "General, no need for formalities. You may simply call me Qinghe from now on."
Hearing this, Mo Chen was stunned for a moment before following Xue Qinghe’s lead: "I have decided to return to the border."
These words struck like a clap of thunder in Xue Qinghe’s ears. The gentle, intimate smile that had been on his face froze, and he stood there dumbstruck. After a long while, Xue Qinghe regained his composure. He stepped forward, grabbed Mo Chen’s forearm tightly, and asked with grave seriousness, "Is it because of Ning Rongrong of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?"
Eight years ago, Ning Fengzhi had taken a liking to Mo Chen’s talent. It just so happened that Ning Rongrong was constantly clamoring to marry Mo Chen, so Ning Fengzhi had simply arranged a betrothal for them. However, that engagement from eight years ago had become a shackle for them both.
"I have investigated that person thoroughly. His name is Oscar, and his Martial Soul is a sausage. He is the first food-type Spirit Master in the history of this continent to possess innate full Soul Power—a true genius by any standard!" Xue Qinghe stated calmly, as if describing something perfectly ordinary.
Hearing this, Mo Chen frowned slightly, lost in thought.
Xue Qinghe continued, "If you wish to deal with him, I can help you find people to take care of him. You know as well as I do that if I am to sit securely on this throne as Crown Prince, I must have men willing to handle the dirty work that cannot see the light of day." With that, Xue Qinghe looked at Mo Chen with burning intensity, his eyes revealing a trace of expectation. After all, the relationship between them had always been good; otherwise, Xue Qinghe would never have so easily exposed his hidden hand to him.
However, facing Xue Qinghe’s proposition, Mo Chen shook his head without hesitation. He replied solemnly, "My apologies, Your Highness, but I will never participate in party strife. Even though we are close friends in private, I do not wish to be involved in any of the political affairs of the court."
Watching Mo Chen’s resolute expression, Xue Qinghe was startled for a moment before he burst into laughter. He waved his hands while laughing and explained, "Hahaha, General Mo, do not misunderstand me! I did not come today to discuss such official business."
After his laughter subsided, Xue Qinghe added, "The truth is, I have become acquainted with a young lady named Xiaoxue. She is currently at a critical juncture and urgently needs to obtain her seventh Soul Ring. Being left with no other choice, I had to be thick-skinned and come to ask for your help, General." Having finished, Xue Qinghe looked at Mo Chen with a face full of smiles, awaiting his answer.
"It is hardly a favor. The Crown Prince’s friend is naturally a friend of mine. I am, of course, happy to help Your Highness with this."
Despite Mo Chen’s agreement, he still refused to address him as "Qinghe." This caused a ripple in Xue Qinghe’s heart; he now had some understanding of the other man’s cold attitude. He knew that Mo Chen was merely a man of war—other than leading armies, he was clueless about everything else. He had always been indifferent to the power struggles and social intricacies of the imperial court.
"In that case, that is wonderful! Tomorrow morning, I will have Xiaoxue visit your estate. I hope, General, that you will seize this opportunity well." Xue Qinghe playfully poked Mo Chen’s broad shoulder with his finger before standing up to depart.
Once he confirmed that Xue Qinghe was truly gone, the butler, who had been hiding in the shadows, stepped out, trembling. He asked cautiously, "My lord, are we still going to the palace?"
Mo Chen shook his head slightly and sighed, "No. Today’s matters are finished."
Just as Mo Chen stretched and prepared to enter his room to get some rest, a clear, melodious female voice drifted in from outside. Looking up, he saw Ning Rongrong entering the estate, led by a servant. Oscar, meanwhile, could only wait anxiously outside the gates.
Ning Rongrong’s beautiful eyes, clear as autumn water, darted around the surroundings. "Mo Chen." Her gaze was caught by the sturdy warhorse grazing leisurely in the courtyard. She called out softly, her lotus steps quickening as she walked toward the horse. Upon closer inspection, her face lit up with joy, and she cried out, "Zhuifeng? It really is you!" As she spoke, she reached out her slender hands to gently stroke the horse’s sleek, black mane.
This warhorse, named Zhuifeng, was no ordinary beast; he was not only Mo Chen’s beloved mount but his closest comrade-in-arms, having galloped across battlefields and bled alongside him. For years, they had faced countless life-and-death trials, forging an unbreakable bond.
"Zhuifeng, oh Zhuifeng, do you know if your master is currently at the estate?" Ning Rongrong asked, her smile as bright as a flower, whispering gently to the horse. As if it understood, Zhuifeng let out a long whinny, lifted its front hooves, and pointed steadily toward the hall not far away.
Ning Rongrong felt a surge of joy. She stroked the horse’s soft mane a few more times before turning and walking toward the hall with graceful steps.
She pushed the door open, and a familiar silhouette came into view. For some reason, the apology she had practiced countless times in her mind felt as if it had been hit by a binding spell; no matter how hard she tried, she could not squeeze a single word from her throat.
"Why are you here?" Mo Chen’s voice shattered the stifling silence. Seeing her again, his heart inevitably rippled, but it quickly returned to calm. He had long since made up his mind to let go of this relationship; nothing would shake him now.
Ning Rongrong bit her lip slightly, hesitated, and then reached for the storage belt at her waist. A pale yellow light flickered, and a piece of yellowed parchment appeared in her hand. She took a deep breath, slammed the parchment onto the table before her, and looked Mo Chen straight in the eyes. "Mo Chen, this is the marriage contract our families set when we were children. For all these years, I have carried it with me. But now... let us end this once and for all today!"
As the words left her lips, Ning Rongrong exhaled a heavy breath, and the great weight that had been pressing on her heart finally fell away.
Mo Chen looked at the parchment on the table in silence, not responding immediately. Time ticked by, and the only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of both people. Finally, after a long silence, Mo Chen slowly raised his hand and picked up the parchment that bore their former promise. His gaze swept over every line of text, and the details of the past surged into his heart like a tide. In the end, he simply sighed softly, placed the memory back on the table, and said faintly, "Very well, as you wish."
He gripped the parchment tightly, and as black-purple flames ignited in his palm, the paper bearing their marriage contract dissolved into nothingness.
"Ning Rongrong, from this day forward, you and I have no connection. You are no longer my fiancée, and everything concerning you has nothing to do with me!" Mo Chen’s face was as dark as water, his tone as calm as a stagnant pool, without a ripple. Although his heart was churning with turmoil, he suppressed his emotions, letting nothing show.
Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Ning Rongrong did not show the relief she had anticipated. Instead, she felt a hollow emptiness in her chest, as if something infinitely precious had been ripped from her life. The sense of loss was so profound she could hardly breathe. Even so, the stubbornness in her bones and the pride of a young noblewoman compelled her to turn and walk away. Every step was incredibly difficult, as if the ground beneath her had turned to mire, threatening to swallow her whole.
Just as Ning Rongrong crossed the threshold of the parlor, a commotion broke out in the courtyard.
"Miss, please stop! This is the General’s estate; unauthorized persons are not permitted to enter!" The servants’ anxious and stern shouts echoed through the courtyard.
Everyone looked toward the sound and saw a tall, lithe woman standing in the center of the courtyard. Her skin was as white as snow, shimmering with an enchanting luster, and her golden hair, which cascaded like a waterfall, swayed in the wind like a goddess descending from the heavens. Although her face was veiled, one could imagine her peerless beauty from her delicate silhouette. Her eyes, hidden behind the veil, shone like the brightest stars in the night sky.
More strikingly, the woman wore a light-gold dress with wide, flowing sleeves that perfectly accentuated her slender waist and long, straight legs. Her proportions were so perfect that even the women present could not help but feel a pang of envy. Ning Rongrong’s eyes were wide; in terms of beauty, the woman was her match, and the stranger’s cold demeanor and look of indifference made Ning Rongrong feel an immense gap.
"I am looking for Mo Chen."