An eight-year-old kid emptied his scumbag father's warehouse and followed his grandparents into

Jing Chang'an's fingers unconsciously pressed against his temples. Those sudden headaches were always accompanied by fragmented images: a battlefield of blood and fire, a mansion with high gates and walls, a muffled girl's voice calling "Daddy"... But every time he tried to grasp these fragments, they slipped away like sand through his fingers.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said softly, but didn't dare to look into the boy's bright eyes.

Shi Lifa squatted down and suddenly asked in an inquiring tone, "Is that knife... important to you?"

Jing Chang'an's hand trembled. This dagger was the only thing he had with him when he was rescued, and it was also his only connection to his unknown past. "I don't know," he said honestly, "but every time I hold it, I feel like... a piece of my heart is missing."

The young man was silent for a long time, the night wind ruffling his slightly curly black hair. In the firelight, his young face showed a complex expression that belied his age.

"Guard Jing," he suddenly lowered his voice, "if one day you discovered that you harbored a deep blood feud, what would you do?"

Jing Changan frowned: "What do you mean?"

"That is..." Shi Lifa bit his lip, "If you are actually a very important person, but for some reason you can't go back, and you are misunderstood..."

The sound of footsteps outside the tent suddenly interrupted the boy's words. Toya opened the tent curtain and said apologetically, "Wai Lifa, it's time to eat."

Shi Lifa quickly regained the seriousness that belonged to his status, jumped up, and followed him out.

Over the past three years, he had discovered that the little prince often tested him intentionally or unintentionally, and only in front of him and the middle-aged maid would he occasionally reveal his fluent Chinese.

Si Lifa would even tell him about the Daqing Dynasty's army. He would occasionally mention the suffering of the Han people, and he would also bring up the strange question just now.

Jing Chang'an walked out of the tent. The starry sky over the grassland was as vast as the ocean, but it couldn't illuminate the fog in his heart. He drew his dagger, and the blade shone like a pool of autumn water in the moonlight.

In a trance, he seemed to see a majestic face reflected in the knife light, saying to him: "An'er, holding this knife is like seeing your father. You must protect your family and country..."

"Ah!" A severe headache suddenly hit Jing Chang'an, and he fell to his knees, cold sweat soaking his back.

This time, the fragments of memory came more clearly than ever before - the soldiers lined up on the training grounds shouting "The Jing family army is mighty", the big flag with the word "Jing" fluttering on the city wall, and... and the heads of the Tartars rolling down immediately!

"Guard Jing!" Shilifa's voice came from a distance, accompanied by hurried footsteps.

Jing Chang'an endured the pain, stood up, and put the dagger back to his waist.

He thought, "I can't let my child worry." But this time, something took root in his heart—the word "Jing" was not just a surname, but also a heavy responsibility.

Three days later, a caravan from the south brought news that changed everything.

"Alas, the Qing emperor deserved it. He punished the Jing family for rebellion and exiled the entire family. Now there's no war, and I'm afraid the country will be lost!" The caravan leader talked loudly by the campfire. "I heard that General Jing escaped with his confidants and their whereabouts are still unknown! If he were still here, he would definitely be able to drive the Tartars back."

"If it were me, I wouldn't care. I'd drive the Tartars away, and that bastard emperor would be sitting back and relaxing. If I can't fix it, I'll have to punish you all over again."

The bowl of kumis in Jing Chang'an's hand fell to the ground with a thud. In an instant, all the fragments of memory came flooding back like a tide - he was Jing Chang'an, the second son of General Jing Yongcheng of the Jing General's Mansion in the Daqing Dynasty, and General An of the Jing Family Army!

The surprise attack that was thought to be a sure win years ago turned into a bloodbath. Because of a spy in the army, that battle was not an accident, but a carefully planned murder!

"Guard Jing!" Shilifa's panicked voice seemed to come from far away.

Jing Chang'an stumbled to his feet, his vision black. He stumbled out of the crowd and knelt on the grassland, retching. His memory had fully returned, every detail brutally clear—the dagger his father had given him before leaving, the sand table simulations his eldest brother Jing Changjiang had conducted with him in the military tent, the amulet his eldest daughter Jing Mingzhu had slipped him...

And now, their entire Jing family was convicted because of a trumped-up charge!

"You...remembered it?" Shi Lifa's voice sounded behind him, no longer concealing his fluent Chinese pronunciation.

Jing Changan turned around slowly, his eyes red: "You would have known it long ago if you hadn't made it!"

There was no doubt about it. The boy's delighted face and trembling hands said it all.

Shi Lifa—or Heizi, the mixed-race young man who had befriended the Jing family during their exile—shaken his hands tightly. "Three years ago, on that meadow, I recognized you instantly... General An, you look so much like the old general."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jing Chang'an said in a hoarse voice.

"What happens next after I tell you?" the young man suddenly became excited. "The Jing family is guilty, so it will be easy to send you back to Daqing! And... and if you don't recover your memory, you may not be willing to go back with them..."

Jing Chang'an was struck by lightning. Yes, even if Shi Lifa knew his identity earlier, but he returned to the Great Zhou with amnesia. If his words or actions gave him away, he might be executed on the spot before he even saw his family.

He reached out and pulled the boy over, "I don't blame you, and thank you for saving me."

Shi Lifa's tears finally fell: "The old general and the old lady, as well as several ladies and Sister Xi, they... were very kind to me. If they hadn't protected Tuoya and me on the road to exile, we would have long been..."

Shi Lifa told them everything he knew, no matter how big or small, including the fact that on that dark night, General Jing Changjiang sneaked into the large bunk bed where they lived.

Jing Chang'an closed his eyes, feeling grief-stricken, and then he breathed a sigh of relief when he knew that his family was fine.

Now wasn't the time to grieve. He needed to think. His family had been wronged, but most importantly—what had become of the Jing family army in northern Xinjiang? Had those loyal soldiers also been purged? Was there any chance of a comeback?

"I want to go back." he said suddenly.

Shi Lifa shuddered all over: "Return to the capital? Or Lingnan?"

"No, let's go to the northern border." Jing Chang'an's eyes were sharp. "My soldiers are still there."

The boy's eyes widened: "But your family..."

"The Jing Family Army is also my family. Only with the help of the big family can I protect my small family. The Jing Family Army is closely related to the people's support." Jing Chang'an gripped the short knife at his waist. "And..." His voice lowered. "If this is really a frame-up, the evidence must be in the northern border. Those people in the capital will not leave any handle."

Shi Lifa stared at him in a daze, suddenly understanding the significance of this choice—between personal hatred and military duty, Jing Changan chose the latter. The young man wiped his face hastily and straightened his back: "I'll take you back!"

"No." Jing Changan flatly refused, "It's too dangerous."

"I know a way around the border patrol!" the boy said stubbornly. "And... and I have this. I can help you."

He took out a bronze token from his bosom, which was engraved with strange patterns. It should be unique to the Rouran royal family.

Shi Lifa said, "Although it looks different, it has the same function as the tiger talisman. As long as the general calls for help, the Rouran will surely send troops to help."