Chapter 27: Unpainted Eyebrows, Flames and Sea Water

Hearing the continuous crying in the camp, the commander of the Divine Palace's cavalry frowned slightly.

He could understand the coldness of the disciples from Mo Chi Yuan of the Great He Kingdom, but he did not care about their coldness. On the contrary, he felt a bit of disdainful mockery. No longer paying attention to them, he raised his right hand, signaling his subordinates to begin clearing the battlefield.

The cold, beautiful sword edge pierced the throat of a horse bandit, twisted, and severed the head. Regardless of whether the dead bandit's eyes were open or closed, the head was tossed into a large sack.

The Divine Palace cavalry began to harvest the heads of the horse bandits.

Although many horse bandits on the outskirts of the camp had died during the first counterattack in the early morning—dying under that fire talisman and the desperate resistance of everyone in the grain transport team—at this moment, no one would contest the credit with these Divine Palace cavalrymen.

The people in the camp were busy treating the severely wounded, carrying corpses, clearing the damage, salvaging the little remaining grain, and dispelling the grief and anger in their hearts.

Using the ruined, charred carriage array as a boundary, the inside and outside of the camp were naturally divided into two worlds.

The commander of the Divine Palace's cavalry looked at the camp, which lay in ruins, and the clear traces of battle. Imagining the fierce charges of the horse bandits and the tragic battles the camp had endured before the reinforcements arrived, he could not help but feel a few degrees of admiration.

His gaze fell upon the remains of the carriages in the center of the camp. His pupils contracted slightly; he did not see the figure of that young female Talisman Master, nor did he see that black shadow.

After a moment of silence, he lightly nudged his horse's belly, urging it through a gap in the carriage array. He rode up behind the Mo Chi Yuan disciples who were busy treating the wounded and asked, "Who is in charge here?"

Zhuo Zhihua firmly tied a piece of cloth around the bloody stump of a laborer's severed arm. Gently brushing away a blood-stained strand of hair from her forehead, she turned to look at the commander on horseback but did not answer him.

One of the Mo Chi Yuan disciples heard the question and instinctively turned her head to look toward a carriage in the camp.

Tian Miaonü suddenly remembered what Ning Que had instructed earlier. She handed the wound medicine in her hand to a senior sister beside her and ran quickly out of the camp.

...

...

Aside from the donkeys and horses, the grain transport team had three carriages. The carriage of the young female Talisman Master had previously been shattered into pieces by the initial power of that half-completed Divine Talisman. The other two carriages were completely undamaged.

The Big Black Horse was currently outside one of those carriages, boredly stamping its hooves as it waited. Inside the carriage, the light was dim. Only when the winter wind of the Desolate Wilderness blew open a corner of the carriage curtain did it brighten slightly. On the wooden board of the carriage lay a bundle quietly. Judging by the indentation on the board, this bundle clearly possessed a weight disproportionate to its volume.

Ning Que reached out to wipe away the blood seeping from his mouth and nose, dipped his hand into a nearby basin of clean water to wash it, and then took out a small bronze box. Looking at the sparse items inside the box, he could not help but shake his head.

"A young lady, yet why do you only have this little rouge?"

"This is not mine; it belongs to them."

Mo Shanshan sat opposite him, looking at Ning Que intently. It seemed that only when she focused her entire spirit could she make her otherwise listless and indifferent gaze fall precisely upon his face. At this moment, her eyes clearly held a few questions.

"As far as I know, the young ladies of the Great He Kingdom care greatly about makeup. Last year, a style of eyebrow makeup became popular in Chang'an City, which was said to have been passed down from your side. Why do you people not care about this?"

Ning Que lowered his head to grind the rouge, his movements appearing very practiced and experienced.

"Cultivators have no need to care about makeup."

Mo Shanshan looked at him quietly. Seeing that he did not wish to discuss this issue further, her beautiful, dark eyebrows slowly furrowed, and she asked, "Why must I wear makeup?"

Ning Que raised his head, reached out to brush away a strand of hair from her forehead, his fingers moving casually a few times, quickly combing her long, waterfall-like black hair. He then took the extremely exquisite wooden hairpin beside him and pinned it in.

"Because we need you to look very spirited right now."

He focused on choosing the intensity of the lip rouge, explaining casually, "Those Divine Palace fellows are all lunatics. Although logically speaking, they are certainly shameless, they won't randomly go mad. But who knows? To prevent their shamelessness from spreading, they might do even crazier things."

Ning Que used his fingernail to take a bit of lip rouge, meticulously dissolved it, and then dabbed it onto a pristine white cotton cloth he had found. He signaled the young female Talisman Master to raise her face and said, "The only thing we can use to deter them right now is you. So you must look spirited, not weak like you do now, looking as if you could die at any moment."

"What is the connection between the two?" Mo Shanshan asked seriously.

"Even though you are the world-renowned Calligraphy Addict, enough to deter those Divine Palace cavalrymen, if you look too weak, it might instead trigger the madness of some lunatics. Once the opponent goes mad, they won't care if you are one of the Three Addicts of the World, or the personal disciple of Sage of Calligraphy Wang... I understand this kind of psychological factor is hard to explain. You just need to know that many life-and-death battles in the world often happen simply because someone looked at someone else."

From seeing that streak of green across her waist by the emerald-like winter lake, to traveling to the Desolate Wilderness together and fighting side by side in bloody battle today, Ning Que had already guessed Mo Shanshan's true identity. This was also the first time he had stated it clearly in his words.

The young female Talisman Master who could draw half a Divine Talisman—there was only one in the entire world.

Because there was only one Calligraphy Addict in the world.

...

...

Mo Shanshan had entered Mo Chi Mountain to study under the Sage of Calligraphy since childhood. For over a decade, she had been obsessed with calligraphy and talismans, lacking much worldly experience. Facing Ning Que, who had survived by killing at the lowest level of society since childhood, she naturally felt she could learn a great deal.

Whether she actually understood Ning Que's words or not, she very honestly raised her face.

Her face was very small, her cheeks slightly round, her eyes and brows like a painting. At this moment, though she was pale and haggard, she was still very beautiful.

Ning Que held the small cloth dabbed with rouge, looking at the small face close at hand. He was dazed for a moment, then smiled.

Two years ago, he was still in Weicheng killing horse bandits, gambling, drinking, and bullying Sang Sang. At that time, how could he have imagined that one day he would be in a carriage with the Calligraphy Addict, one of the Three Addicts of the World, and that she would honestly let him play with her face?

The rouge was applied to her face, and his fingers gently rubbed, gradually spreading it.

It was neither heavy nor light makeup.

Mo Shanshan's pale complexion gradually became rosy under his fingers.

The sensation of his fingers gently rubbing the young girl's small face was very good, especially on her slightly round cheeks, which felt even softer and plumper.

Mo Shanshan sat there quietly, her head slightly lowered, letting him apply it to her face, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

Not long after, the makeup was finished. The young girl's pale, haggard face became fresh and beautiful, the rosiness looking extremely real.

Ning Que thought to himself, *When did my skills become so good?* Next, he should paint her eyebrows, but he noticed her eyebrows were slender, dark, and bright, beautiful as a painting. After pondering for a moment, he finally gently set the charcoal pencil down.

...

...

"Do you often do these things?" Mo Shanshan looked at him and suddenly asked.

Ning Que recalled his family life after entering Chang'an City and becoming wealthy, thinking of the pile of rouge from Chen Jin Ji hidden in the bed at Lao Bi Zhai. He smiled gently and said, "There is a young girl at home. I have done this many times."

Mo Shanshan's long, slightly sparse eyelashes blinked, and she did not ask further. She turned, parted the carriage curtain, and looked outside. Her newly rosy cheeks paled slightly once more.

The people in the camp were carrying the bodies of the dead and gathering wood. Judging by the situation, they were preparing for a cremation. On the outskirts of the camp, the Divine Palace cavalry's work of harvesting the horse bandits' heads was almost complete. Their gold-and-black armor was covered in bloodstains, and the sacks were filled with countless heads, looking bulging.

The Central Plains Coalition, acting on the orders of the Xiling Divine Palace, had entered the Desolate Wilderness to aid the Yan Kingdom. Aside from the Tang army on the Western Front, the Eastern Front all calculated merit based on heads. Today, the Divine Palace cavalry had harvested at least three hundred heads, which was naturally a great merit.

This military merit, logically speaking, should mainly belong to the Mo Chi Yuan disciples and the soldiers and citizens of the Yan Kingdom. Yet, the Divine Palace cavalry shamelessly snatched the credit. Although Mo Shanshan did not care about this, she could clearly feel that the people in the camp, who were silently preparing for the cremation, felt an increasingly dense sense of grief, indignation, and stifled anger in their hearts.

The commander of the Divine Palace's cavalry saw the young female Talisman Master part the carriage curtain. Noticing that her spirit seemed quite good, he could not help but shudder inwardly. He thought to himself, *This woman just took an immense risk to force a breakthrough in state and unleash a Divine Talisman. To think that in such a short time, she could recover to her original state. She truly deserves to be one of the Three Addicts of the World, on par with the Department Seat.*

"So it is the Mountain Master in charge here. I did not know before, which led to our late arrival. Please forgive us, Mountain Master."

The commander of the Divine Palace's cavalry had a calm expression. With a single sentence, he brushed aside their previous inaction of standing by and watching the camp be attacked. He clasped his hands and bowed, expressing rare respect toward the Calligraphy Addict Mo Shanshan, and then said, "The young lady is currently in a carriage on the grassland. She instructed me to invite the Mountain Master to meet."

The Divine Guards of Xiling were directly managed by the Judgment Department. The young lady he spoke of, if not the Dao Addict Ye Hongyu, was naturally that Flower Addict. Mo Shanshan was well aware of this, and she knew the Flower Addict was up on the grassland.

"The disciples of Mo Chi Yuan are ordered by the Divine Palace to escort the grain to the Chieftain Court. Duty binds us here; we dare not leave lightly."

Mo Shanshan looked at the commander on horseback and said.

The commander smiled faintly and said, "The young lady and the Mountain Master have not met for several years. She wishes to meet out of deep affection."

These words were spoken gently, carrying affection, but they faintly revealed a trace of overbearing intent.

Mo Shanshan looked at him expressionlessly and said, "If she truly wished to meet, she could have come down from the grassland to see me earlier. Since she did not meet me then, there is even less need to meet now."

These words were spoken calmly, carrying mockery, but they did not conceal an even more overbearing intent.

The commander's face darkened slightly. He stared silently at her as she sat in front of the carriage, his thoughts unknown. Finally, without a word, he pulled his horse's reins, turned, and rode away.

Walking outside the camp, a Divine Palace cavalryman brought two blades to his horse.

The commander looked at the two pudao carved with complex patterns. Although he could not immediately discern the meaning within them, as a Dongxuan state powerhouse, he instinctively felt the beauty and realm contained within them, and his eyes lit up.

Just as he was about to take these two blades as spoils of war to study carefully in the future, a clear yet angry voice echoed from not far away.

"Those are ours!"

Tian Miaonü glared angrily at the commander on horseback. Her face was covered in fine sweat, and her body was covered in dust and bloodstains, looking very disheveled. It seemed she had been searching for these two blades outside the camp for a long time.

The commander sneered, lightly pulling his reins as he prepared to leave, utterly refusing to pay attention.

Tian Miaonü took quick, agile steps, rushing like a gust of wind to the front of his horse. Her hand gripped the hilt of her exquisite ebony sword, and she stared at him, refusing to yield, her bright eyes unconcealed with hatred.

Several Divine Palace cavalrymen stepped forward unceremoniously, intending to push her away.

With a sharp *clink*, Tian Miaonü drew her sword from its scabbard. Looking at the several tall Divine Palace cavalrymen who towered over her, she showed no fear. Her voice trembled with anger as she said, "You took the horse bandits' heads, do you now want to rob our weapons as well?"

The commander looked down at her coldly and said, "The disciples of Mo Chi Yuan use talis-swords. Since when did you start using blades?"

Zhuo Zhihua and the other Mo Chi Yuan disciples saw the conflict arising here and ran over. Finding their small-statured junior sister surrounded by these shameless Divine Palace cavalrymen, the anger they had suppressed for so long finally erupted. The dense sound of swords scraping against scabbards echoed as they confronted the Divine Palace cavalry.

The atmosphere at the scene suddenly became extremely tense. Although the Divine Palace cavalry had a hundred elite riders leading them, and the Mo Chi Yuan disciples were few in number and utterly exhausted, relying on that iron-like, patient aura, they did not retreat half a step.

A gust of winter wind blew across the grassland. Mo Shanshan walked over slowly, her white dress fluttering in the wind. With a cold expression and indifferent gaze, she looked at the Divine Palace cavalrymen who showed signs of impatience and the commander on horseback, saying indifferently, "If my Mo Chi Yuan disciples want to use blades, they use blades. Does this matter also require an explanation to the Divine Palace?"

The commander stared at her silently, then suddenly said, "The Mountain Master's words seem somewhat unreasonable."

Mo Shanshan said, "Does the Divine Palace now believe that thieves have reason?"

The commander's face changed slightly, feeling insulted. Looking at her and the Mo Chi Yuan disciples holding exquisite swords blocking his horse, he said coldly, "To dare compare the Divine Palace to thieves is truly disrespectful! Does the Judgment Department need to ask the Sage of Calligraphy how he taught his disciples?"

Mo Shanshan replied calmly, "I shall await the instruction of the Judgment Divine Seat on behalf of my master."

The commander clearly guessed that this Calligraphy Addict was currently putting on a brave front, but he did not dare to casually offend her. He stared into the young female Talisman Master's eyes and suddenly said, "The Mountain Master is ordered by the Divine Palace to transport grain to the Chieftain Court, which concerns the great matter of the peace talks between both sides. Now that the grain is destroyed, I do not know how the Mountain Master will explain this to the Divine Palace and the coalition. If the peace talks collapse because of this, I doubt you can bear the responsibility, Mountain Master."

"How I explain to the Divine Palace and the coalition is my business, and has nothing to do with you." Mo Shanshan's eyelashes blinked slightly, and she said softly, "Even if I do not explain, you cannot kill me here..."

She raised her head, quietly looking into the commander's eyes, and said, "Unless you kill everyone here."

The commander frowned slightly.

Mo Shanshan gently brushed a strand of hair blown by the wind onto her shoulder and said calmly, "If you won't kill us all, then what are you still doing here? Drop the blades and leave."

The commander was silent for a long time. He casually tossed the two pudao on his saddle to the ground, looked at her with a faint smile, and said, "I hope to see the Mountain Master again at the Chieftain Court."

Tian Miaonü sheathed her sword, pushed aside the Divine Palace cavalryman in front of her, rushed to the side of the commander's horse, picked up the two pudao, and held them tightly in her arms like treasures, staring warily at the opponent.

Mo Shanshan did not answer the commander's invitation, or rather, threat, and turned directly to walk back into the camp.

...

...

In the deep winter of the Desolate Wilderness, the sun appeared for only a short time along the low southern sky before vanishing. The battle had begun in the early morning, and by the time the battlefield was cleared, it was nearly dusk, and the light had turned dim.

The dense sound of horse hooves echoed like thunder on the grassland, then gradually faded. The Divine Palace cavalry escorted Aunt Quni Madi of the Yuelun Kingdom, the young lady in the carriage, and the people from the Tianyu Academy, the White Pagoda Temple, along with clouds of dust, as they departed.

The blood-like sunset enveloped the camp, making the bloodstains on the ground and carriage boards even more glaring. The ruined carriage boards, carriage fragments, and dry grass were piled together, appearing as if they were about to ignite under the sunset.

A moment later, these items were indeed set ablaze. Assisted by the wind on the plains, the fire erupted instantly, gradually consuming the bodies of the victims piled on top.

Amidst the crackling of the fire, one could vaguely see charred, melting, distorted shapes that made one's heart feel incredibly heavy and complex. The air began to fill with a terrifying, nauseating smell of burning flesh.

The survivors surrounding the cremation site lowered their heads, beginning to chant the Rebirth Mantra from the Haotian Taoist hymn. The monotonous, repetitive syllables prayed that the souls in the fire could smoothly return to the embrace of Haotian. Initially somewhat chaotic, the sound gradually became more orderly, low, and filled with an atmosphere of grief.

Because of his severe injuries, Ning Que did not descend from the carriage. He parted the curtain, silently watching the distant fire, listening to the people's chanting and prayers, and suddenly raised his head to look at the high, distant sky above.

The sky of the Desolate Wilderness was still as blue as he was accustomed to, but at this moment, under the illumination of the sunset, it was naturally divided into two completely different worlds: one side near the night was deep blue like the sea, while the other side near the day burned bright like fire.

Descending into this world, he could not explain it. His childhood in Chang'an City had exposed him entirely to the Haotian faith. His master, Master Yan Se, was an enshrined figure of the Southern Gate of Haotian, a Great Divine Officer with a seat in the Xiling Divine Palace.

Therefore, he naturally believed in Haotian like the majority of people in the world.

However, at this moment, right before the countless souls in the fire, beneath the sky resembling the sea and fire, his view of this world could not help but gradually change.

...

...

The people set up camp once more on the grassland, enduring a long, cold night. Early the next morning, the dozens of surviving Yan Kingdom cavalrymen returned south with the wounded. They were trusted confidants of Prince Chong Ming, and they knew very well why the Divine Palace cavalry had acted the way they did when attacked yesterday. They also knew that even if they reached the Chieftain Court, they would receive no justice whatsoever, and there was even a great danger of being punished by the Divine Palace. Thus, they naturally chose to return to their country.

The disciples of Mo Chi Yuan of the Great He Kingdom did not return south with the Yan cavalry. Instead, they boarded the two carriages and several horses, setting off once more toward the Left Tent Chieftain Court in the northeast.

Looking at the desolate scenery outside the carriage window and the remnant snow amidst the sparse grass, Ning Que coughed twice. He took out the handkerchief Sang Sang had prepared from his chest, wiped away the blood at the corner of his lips, turned to look at the young girl in white opposite him, and asked, "Why must we go to the Chieftain Court?"

"The matter of the grain transport team ultimately needs an explanation, and..."

Mo Shanshan lowered her eyes slightly, her eyelashes trembling. After a long silence, she said, "I am very angry."

Ning Que looked at her, smiled, and said, "I find that I quite like you."