"No, that's not right at all, Yuna. When you thrust your sword, your center of gravity must not shift even a little. If you do, you won't be able to kill your enemy in one blow—and then you'll be the one who dies."
Snowflakes drifted down in thick, swirling flurries. In the snowy field, Lucille Xing patiently guided Yuna Ji. They had been training for over an hour. Recently, Yuna seemed to have grown up a bit—she no longer threw tantrums, and she listened attentively to everything Joseph Qiao taught her that afternoon.
Yuna Ji tossed aside the bone sword in her hand. This type of sword was fragile—good only for thrusting, and if you hacked with it too much, it would chip. But its piercing power was excellent; it could easily stab into an enemy's body.
"Sister Lucille, I can't get used to this thing."
Lucille Xing sighed helplessly. Swordsmanship or archery—Yuna Ji wasn't very good at either. In the distance, Lona Long practiced archery in the snow, each arrow striking the target with precision.
Even Phoenix Yu, who was usually lazy, had been getting up especially early lately. Joseph Qiao leaned against the outer wall of the palace, snow piling up on his brow and shoulders, yet he remained perfectly still.
King Grant had fallen ill—at the worst possible time, just as the annual tribute from the tribes was approaching. Now, in this time of exceptional hardship, his sickness seemed incurable. Several physicians had examined him and tried herbal remedies, but nothing worked.
The cause, of course, was Simon Grant's death. Though Simon had never been able to inherit the position of chieftain, King Grant knew well that the family's future depended on him to lead in practice. As long as Simon was alive, even after King Grant's own death, the family would be able to withstand any formidable enemies they might face.
Just then, footsteps sounded. Joseph Qiao turned his head as King Grant approached, supported by several attendants.
"King Grant..."
Joseph Qiao cried out in surprise. King Grant nodded, then turned to look at Yuna Ji.
"Yuna has been much more obedient lately, hasn't she?"
Joseph Qiao made a sound of surprise. King Grant looked pale and coughed from time to time. He walked forward, refusing anyone's help.
"Father, why are you out here instead of resting inside?"
Yuna Ji turned her head, her cheeks red from the cold. King Grant reached out and brushed the snow off her head.
"Are you cold, Yuna?"
Yuna Ji shook her head and smiled happily. King Grant's face softened. All morning, he had watched her practice nearby.
When King Grant was about to leave, Joseph Qiao stepped in front of him.
"King Grant..."
"Joseph, I know what you want to say. Maybe we've all been too hard on Edward Grant. Deep down, I've always thought Edward was less capable than Simon Grant. I know he's dissatisfied, and maybe I shouldn't have held him back. It's time to let him go and do what he must."
Joseph Qiao watched as King Ji left, but deep down he knew that what the King had said might be true. For so many years, Ji Yuan and Ji Chang had been like light and shadow—everyone only saw Ji Yuan, followed him, listened to him. Ji Chang, in everyone’s eyes, was nothing but dim and insignificant.
Thinking back to the trip to the mountain pass last month, Ji Chang seemed like a different person. He wore a constant smile, whereas before, Ji Chang was quick to anger—perhaps it had to do with how King Ji treated his two sons. He had repeatedly requested to lead troops into battle, desperate to prove himself to everyone.
"It might already be too late. I just hope that Yíngdi and Sìdi will behave themselves for now."
Teams large and small kept pouring into Ji Capital—it was tribute season again. Joseph Qiao personally went to the gate to observe the tribal leaders entering. To his surprise, the chief of the Zou Clan was absent; instead, his eldest son, Zou Mu, only twenty years old, had come in his place.
This immediately raised Joseph Qiao’s suspicion. After a week of preparation, the festival was about to begin, and King Ji’s illness had improved considerably.
"Big Sis, why did you hit me? That really hurt!"
Ji Shu glared sternly at Ji Yuna.
"Are you all getting too lax with her? It’s been so long and she still can’t hold a sword properly."
Ji Yuna covered her face, a little afraid of her big sister—sometimes she was just like their father, strict and ready to discipline.
"But I don’t like swords. Hammers and axes are too heavy for me, and even a wooden staff feels awkward to use."
"No talking back. You need to become familiar with all kinds of weapons if you want to grow stronger."
Ji Shu pinched Ji Yuna’s mouth. At that moment, Joseph Qiao ran over, grabbed Ji Shu’s hand, and said:
"Let it go, Ji Shu. Today’s the festival. Yuna’s been working hard every day—let her relax for a few days."
The tribal chiefs were all gathered together. This year’s council was much quieter than usual; only King Ji’s coughing stood out. None of the chiefs said a word.
"Let’s go to war, King Ji."
At that moment, a man about King Ji’s age stood up. He was Lin Shan, chief of the Lin Clan and King Ji’s childhood friend. The Lin Clan, stationed to the south, was the most reliable.
Instantly, murmurs spread through the crowd. The northern disaster had passed, and the nine northern tribes, with aid from Yíngdi and Sìdi, had recovered and were growing stronger.
For Ji Territory, the northern tribes were now a major threat. Though Yíngdi and Sìdi’s armies had retreated, by next spring, they might attack. Lin Shan began to speak, planning to gather the army and launch a massive offensive at the start of spring to wipe out the northern tribes in one blow.
Then Lu Yu stood up as well, supporting Lin Shan’s proposal. Many other clans voiced their agreement. The enemy wouldn’t just sit by—better to strike first than wait for doom.
A surge of heat rose in Joseph Qiao’s chest. He desperately hoped King Ji would decide to go to war with the northern tribes. At that moment, King Ji’s eyes were on Zou Mu.
This chapter isn’t finished yet. Please click next page to continue reading!
"I heard your father is unwell. Is it serious?"
Zou Mu stood up, smiled, and bowed as he replied:
"Thank you for your concern, King Ji. My father just caught a minor illness—nothing serious."
Suddenly, Joseph Qiao stood up.
"King Ji, now isn’t the right time. I hope all the clans will focus on training their troops and wait for a better day to fight."
King Ji nodded. After the meeting dispersed, Lu Yu found Joseph Qiao.
"Yusheng, what’s gotten into you? If we don’t strike now, when they..."
Joseph Qiao’s face darkened as he looked at Lu Yu.
"Uncle Lu, do you really think that way? There’s no sign the Zou Clan will betray us, but if we concentrate our forces for war and they turn against us, in half a month, Ji Capital will be drenched in blood."
Lu Yu pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
"Even if the Zou Clan harbors such intentions, they won’t betray us so soon."
Joseph Qiao shook his head. He knew that if Ji Yuan were here, he wouldn’t immediately support going to war either. Something felt off about this push for battle—though Lin Clan proposed it, every other tribe supported the idea.
Even the Yu Clan in the central region agreed, which was highly unusual. The Yu Clan had always been loyal to the Ji family but were conservative, opposing war several times before.
"No, Uncle Lu, do you remember how my father and your clan lost all those years ago?"
As soon as Joseph Qiao mentioned it, Lu Yu’s face clouded with sorrow.
"There’s someone clever among the northern tribes. He knew that if he didn’t wipe out the Lu and Qiao clans, they’d be a threat to the north. So they gathered their forces and defeated us in one strike."
Joseph Qiao squatted down and began sketching casually on the ground—a simple map took shape.
"If I were the Zou Clan, when the Ji family goes to war and wants to wipe out the northern tribes, the central army would have to head north, taking at least two days round trip. In those two days, if the Zou Clan attacked the right mountain pass in the central region, it would fall in less than half a day. Within a month, the armies of Yíngdi and Sìdi would reach the outskirts of Ji Capital. The Zou Clan was once a defeated tribe in the fight for Ji Territory—the previous King Ji not only spared them but granted them the resource-rich east. That was to defend against outside enemies—a necessary move then, but times have changed. Now they’ve grown stronger, and among the three great clans in Ji Territory, they’ve become second only to the Ji family, able to field two hundred thousand troops."
Lu Yu smiled lightly, then shook his head.
"I’m old now, Yusheng. The rest is up to you. Help the Ji family with all your heart—I’ll stay in Muzha Territory and keep the food supplies coming."
After Lu Yu left, Joseph Qiao went to Ji Chang’s residence, hoping to have a serious talk with him again.
"What is it, Joseph Qiao? What do you want to say this time?"
As soon as he saw Ji Chang, he asked—but Ji Chang’s spirit was clearly diminished. The fierceness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a healthy glow and frequent smiles. In the past, Ji Chang never showed Joseph Qiao any kindness.
"Keep a close eye on the Zou Clan’s movements. It’s best to concentrate supplies for the three mountain passes on the right side of the central region. If the Zou Clan makes a move, that side can hold out without resupply and withstand a siege, while we deal with attacks from the north. Otherwise..."
"Enough, Joseph Qiao. I know all about your warnings. I’m in charge of the mountain pass now—Father told me to take full responsibility. Don’t meddle. Just take good care of my sister."
Ji Chang’s tone was gentle, and he spoke with a smile, but a fire burned in Joseph Qiao’s heart.
"Ji Chang."
Just as Ji Chang was about to enter the house, Joseph Qiao called out.
"If you want to prove anything, don’t gamble with the lives of everyone in Ji Territory."