Chapter 67: Storms in the Li Dynasty, The Final Chapter of the Suppression

Amidst the battlefield thick with the stench of gunpowder and blood, Li Chengyin stood weary yet resolute. His armor was splattered with enemy blood, and his hair was somewhat disheveled, yet his posture remained as upright as an ancient pine standing firm against a gale.

His face was blackened by the fires of war, and strands of hair, dampened by sweat, clung to his cheeks. Yet his deep gaze was bright, carrying the profound tranquility and grit of one who had crossed the threshold of life and death.

At that moment, the rapid clatter of approaching hooves drew everyone's sideways glances. Xiaofeng came riding on horseback, like a streak of red lightning tearing through the dull, dead silence of the aftermath.

Her face was slightly flushed with anxiety, and her eyes brimmed with panic and worry. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, as if trying to burst through her chest.

Racing up close, Xiaofeng unhesitatingly leaped down from her horse. Though she stumbled slightly, she did not slow her pace for a second, charging straight toward Li Chengyin.

She threw herself against him, her slender hands frantically fumbling over his body to check for injuries, while she babbled incessantly: "Li Chengyin, how are you? Are you hurt anywhere? You must not be alright!"

Her voice carried a trace of weeping and trembled slightly. Her eyes scanned his body back and forth, missing not a single inch, as if her gaze alone, were it fervent enough, could banish all his pain and exhaustion.

When her fingers brushed against his cold armor, Xiaofeng’s eyes turned red. Unbidden, terrifying thoughts flooded her mind—what if he... She dared not think further and only checked him more thoroughly.

Watching Xiaofeng’s flustered state, Li Chengyin felt a tumult of emotions in his heart.

Slowly, he raised his blood-stained hand with a sluggish motion, as if weighed down by infinite exhaustion, wanting to wipe the tears from the corner of her eyes, only to find his own hand trembling slightly as well.

Along this journey, they had endured too many misunderstandings and hardships, their love and hatred intertwined. Once, for the sake of revenge, he had used Xiaofeng, hurting her and damaging the bond between them.

Yet time and again, Xiaofeng had forgiven him, choosing without hesitation to stand by his side in his moments of greatest peril.

Right now, seeing her so worried about him, his heart was filled with profound guilt and tenderness.

The King of Western Zhou watched Xiaofeng with a feigned, disgruntled frown, though his eyes held a smile as he spoke:

"You ungrateful girl, you only have eyes for Li Chengyin. Why don't you ask about your old father? You truly have no conscience."

As he spoke, he raised his hand in a mock gesture to rap her on the head, stopping just short in the air above her brow. Though his words carried a hint of reproach, his eyes overflowed with doting affection for his daughter and quiet relief at the scene before him.

Hearing her father's words, Xiaofeng snapped back to reality, a shy smile blooming across her face. She hurried over to the King of Western Zhou, affectionately linked her arm through his, gave it a gentle shake, and coaxed playfully:

"Abba, I knew you would be safe and sound. You are so formidable, how could those rebels possibly harm you?"

Many of the surrounding soldiers chuckled happily at the sight.

Their laughter echoed in the post-war air, scattering a portion of the gloom and solemnity.

Peizhao walked slowly over, leading his horse by the reins. His armor was likewise marked by the traces of combat, with blood seeping through several torn spots. Though his face bore the fatigue of the great battle, his carriage remained lithe and strong.

He came before Li Chengyin, dropped to one knee, cupped his fists, and saluted:

"Your Highness, the rebels have been completely wiped out, and Minister Gao has been captured alive. We have not failed your mission."

Li Chengyin nodded slightly, reached out to help Peizhao up, and said:

"Peizhao, thanks to you today, I have witnessed your peerless valor on the battlefield with my own eyes. Once we return to the capital, you shall be heavily rewarded."

Peizhao rose and replied respectfully:

"Your subordinate merely fulfilled his duty. Protecting the Central Plains and guarding Your Highness is my bounden responsibility."

Not far away, wounded soldiers were supporting one another. Some had bandages wrapped around their faces, while others had their arms immobilized by improvised splints.

One young soldier winced in pain from his wounds, yet a gleam of victorious joy shone in his eyes. He said to his comrade-in-arms beside him:

"It's finally over. This war was not easy to win, but thankfully we prevailed. At last, we can live in peace from now on."

His comrades nodded one after another, relieved smiles touching their faces.

As Li Chengyin looked at Xiaofeng and the King of Western Zhou, a surge of warmth flooded his chest.

He knew deeply that this victory did not belong to him alone, nor solely to the Central Plains; it was inseparable from the all-out assistance of Western Zhou. Reflecting on this thrilling rebellion—from the initial setback of his plans, to Minister Gao's relentless pressing, and the brush-with-death perils on the battlefield—every single moment had haunted him like a nightmare.

And now, it was finally over. The surging tide of rebels had been thoroughly eradicated, Minister Gao captured, and the crisis facing the Central Plains averted. He gazed at the rising dawn on the horizon, its golden brilliance spilling over the war-scarred earth as if whispering of rebirth and hope.

Li Chengyin secretly vowed that he would fiercely cherish this hard-won peace and properly govern the Central Plains, sparing the people of this land from the miseries of war and bringing prosperity to the nation. Only thus could he prove worthy of the soldiers who had fought with their life's blood and given their lives for him and the realm.

And Xiaofeng—this woman who shone like a brilliant star in his life—would walk hand in hand with him to witness the future of the dynasty.

At this moment, illuminated by the morning sun, their silhouettes seemed etched with a golden outline, forming the most beautiful scenery in the tapestry of victory. Their love had grown all the more resilient through the baptism of war, like an ancient tree deeply rooted in the earth, unshaken no matter how fiercely the winds and rains might beat against it.

On the other side of the battlefield, soldiers were clearing the field, gathering the corpses of the rebels into piles in preparation for burial.

An elderly soldier looked out over the littered expanse, sighed deeply, and said:

"War is always cruel. Let us hope this is the last one."

The young soldiers beside him nodded in silence, their eyes filled with a longing for peace and a solemn awe of war.

Li Chengyin turned, gazing at the battlefield that had witnessed such a life-and-death struggle, his heart brimming with mixed emotions.

He knew that from this moment on, he must shoulder even heavier responsibilities: not only rebuilding the realm, but also healing the wounds left by war, whether it was the lingering fear in the people's hearts or the desolation of the national economy.

He looked at Xiaofeng, a newfound firmness entering his gaze. Xiaofeng seemed to read his heart, nodding slightly to offer her silent support.

The King of Western Zhou also looked at Li Chengyin, believing that this young man possessed the capacity to lead the country toward a new glory, having demonstrated extraordinary wisdom and courage throughout the rebellion.

As time passed, the sunlight gradually flooded the entire battlefield, banishing the very last shadows.

Li Chengyin led the company as they walked slowly toward the capital. Their backs, bathed in the radiant sunlight, appeared exceptionally firm, carrying infinite yearning and hope for the future as they stepped forward onto a brand-new journey.