Crown Prince of the Empire, I quit!

In an obscure corner, the "thin soldier" with a dark red scar on his wrist huddled up, his head buried deep in his knees, as if trembling with cold and fear. No one noticed him; he was too ordinary, too inconspicuous, no different from the desperate captives around him.

Only the most attentive might notice that his eyes, hidden deep within his arms, held no trace of despair or fear, but only a nearly frozen, abyssal coldness and resentment. His fingertips, unconsciously, repeatedly scratched the cold earth beneath him, as if carving something.

The plan wasn't entirely successful. Carrigon's mechanism wasn't perfect, and the final collapse nearly buried him. He lost nearly all of his loyal shadow guards, and the robes and scepters that symbolized his power.

The token was a chess piece he left behind intentionally to mislead people.

He also suffered serious internal injuries.

But... he's still alive.

This is enough.

Qin Ming... You won this battle and this land. But you can never truly kill me.

Helian... my loyal Helian... please be patient for a moment.

He raised his eyelids slightly, and through the gaps in the crowd, he glanced at the vague, high-hanging figure at the entrance of the Snow God Valley from afar. An extremely complex glimmer flashed in his eyes, and then quickly disappeared in complete coldness.

Hatred was like the toughest poison ivy, growing, entwining, and solidifying wildly in the deepest part of his heart.

He slowly closed his eyes, completely hiding all his sharpness and madness, and turned back into the trembling, insignificant captive.

Winter in the North is still long.

He has plenty of time to wait.

And rebirth.

The bitter winter of the northern border came to a temporary end with the brutal Battle of Snow God Valley. Emperor Qin Ming of Daqian held a memorial service at the valley's entrance and declared the former Shenmu site incorporated into Daqian territory. He established the Beiting Protectorate, leaving Meng Zhi to lead 50,000 elite troops to garrison the area, eliminate remaining enemies, and pacify the region. Helian Tieshu was imprisoned in a specially constructed iron cage and hung outside the newly constructed Beiting Protectorate. From a once-powerful general, he became a living sacrifice serving as a warning to all.

Having accomplished all this, Qin Ming did not linger long. Troubles arose again on the southern border, and the Qiang people in the west were also stirring. The heart of the empire—the capital—needed the emperor's presence even more. Leaving behind the necessary arrangements, Qin Ming led the main force, bearing the majesty of victory and the lingering smell of gunpowder, and embarked on the journey back to the capital.

Winter in the north seems to have really calmed down.

……

A remote mine under the jurisdiction of Beiting Protectorate, close to the southeastern border of Yuanshenmu.

This place held a large number of former Shenmu prisoners, tasked with mining a softer limestone for use in the construction of Beiting's new city. The conditions were harsh and the guards were strict, but compared to the bloodbath of war, at least they could survive here.

In a corner of the mine, a figure silently wielded a heavy pickaxe. He was gaunt, his face etched with age, weathered by the frost and coal dust. Only his eyes, when occasionally raised, revealed a hidden sharpness and coldness that belied his labor. His movements seemed clumsy, as if he were unaccustomed to such strenuous labor. His wrists were wrapped in dirty rags, faintly revealing the marks of old scars.

He was Hua Yunhong, who had escaped from among the captives by chance.

Months passed, and like the most patient of venomous snakes, he lay dormant. He endured humiliation, toil, and the whippings of his overseers, silently observing and waiting. His astonishing learning ability and forbearing nature allowed him to quickly grasp the mine's operating rules, guard rotation schedules, and even which captives still harbored longing for the sacred tree or resentment towards the Qian people.

He took advantage of every opportunity and wove his web bit by bit in an extremely secretive way.

In the stillness of the night, the sounds of snoring echoed from the prison shed. Hua Yunhong would quietly open his eyes, his fingertips tracing the cold ground, drawing from memory the mountains, rivers, passes, and cities of the northern border and even the heart of Daqian. He would trade the half-spent steamed bread he had saved for a scrap of information about the outside world from a down-and-out Yuanshenmu official.

He learned that Qin Ming had returned to Beijing, Beiting was presided over by Meng Zhi, and the main forces were scattered and stationed in various places, busy consolidating their rule and suppressing sporadic resistance.

He learned that although several important roads leading to the heartland of Daqian were heavily guarded as trade gradually resumed after the war, they were not without loopholes.

He learned that among the mine guards, there was a captain who was addicted to alcohol and a clerk who was extremely dissatisfied with the status quo and longed for wealth.

Opportunities are emerging little by little.

One day, a small avalanche struck the mountains near the mine. While no one was injured, it blocked a supply route leading to the mine. The overseer needed to dispatch personnel to clear the area.

Hua Yunhong lowered his head and squeezed into the group of selected prisoners. The leader was the alcoholic captain, who obviously didn't want to stay in this weather for long and kept urging them to leave.

When they reached the avalanche, Dui Zheng found a sheltered place, took out his wine bag to keep warm, and handed the supervision task to his subordinates.

Hua Yunhong seized the opportunity, pretended to slip, and slid towards a steep slope with a scream!

"Waste!" a guard cursed, but didn't take it too seriously. Such accidents were not uncommon in mines.

Hua Yunhong's figure disappeared among the rocks and bushes at the bottom of the slope.

A moment later, his weak groans and cries for help were heard from below.

The alcoholic team's interest was ruined and they waved their hands impatiently: "Someone go! Drag him up! What a fucking hassle!"

A young guard reluctantly put down his weapon and slid down the slope carefully.

Just as he approached Hua Yunhong and reached out to pull him!

A terrifying glint suddenly flashed in Hua Yunhong's eyes! There was no trace of weakness there! He pounced like a lurking cheetah! With a lightning-fast left hand, he covered the guard's mouth and nose. In his right hand, he grasped a sharpened piece of gravel that he had hidden in his sleeve at some point, and fiercely slashed it across the guard's throat!

The movements were clean, neat and silent.

He dragged the rapidly dying guard into the depths of the bushes, quickly stripped off his uniform and fur cap, and put them on himself. Although they didn't fit him well, they were enough to deceive him in the dim light. He simply covered the guard's body with gravel, then grabbed the standard waist knife, took a deep breath, lowered the brim of his hat, and quickly climbed up the other side of the slope.

"Why is it so slow? Where is that cripple?" The team leader above was drinking and asked without turning his head.

"Report... report to the captain," Hua Yunhong lowered his voice, imitating the young guard's accent, and said vaguely, "He... he twisted his ankle and has difficulty moving. He asked me to come up first to report. We need... to ask two more people to go down and carry him..."

"Damn! There's so much going on!" The captain cursed, but without a second thought, he shouted to the other two guards not far away, "You! And you! Go down and give me a hand!"