By the time the morning assembly ended, dusk had already given way to the quiet unfurling of night. Instead of returning to his residence after leaving the palace, Bai Qi, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, walked through the brightly lit streets and alleyways. Alone, he headed for the city's outskirts.
After about ten minutes, he stood on a mountaintop roughly three hundred miles from the Imperial Capital. His crimson eyes, tinged with a faint glow, gazed ahead, a small smile touching his lips.
There, millions of soldiers from the Vermilion Bird Army were reveling with wine, dancing around bonfires, and celebrating their victory.
How wonderful! Bai Qi stood quietly, like a sculpture, motionless for a long time. Tomorrow morning, he would no longer be the commander of the Vermilion Bird Army. Remembering the days they had fought side by side, his heart ached with reluctance.
