Dugu Yi's expression was that of a little girl whose candy had been snatched away, or a child who had waited six long months for fruit to ripen on a branch, only to have two strangers appear just as it was ready, discussing how to divide the harvest while completely overlooking her. To be ignored! The frustration and grievance were immeasurable.

Jun Wuyi and the other two immediately widened their eyes. Then, almost simultaneously, they burst into laughter. This girl’s gesture and expression were simply too endearing. Jun Wuyi’s heavy worries and Guan Qinghan’s awkward shyness were completely swept away by her single action.

Seeing the three of them staring with wide eyes, Young Miss Dugu finally realized what she had done. She puffed out her cheeks and declared in a fit of pique, "He’s mine!"

Only after speaking did she realize how inappropriate her words were. Setting aside the fact that she had no formal engagement with Jun Mo Xie to warrant her interference, the trust Jun Third Master had placed in her was akin to a dying wish. She absolutely should not have caused such a scene, especially since she was currently acting in the capacity of a witness—it was entirely improper.

Furthermore, these were not words fit for an unmarried young lady to utter, let alone the sole daughter of the Dugu Clan.

The young girl’s small face immediately flushed crimson with shame. She hastily released her grip on Jun Mo Xie’s arm, bit her lip, and stood there awkwardly, unsure of what she could say to salvage the situation.

Not only was the little girl at a loss for words, but even Third Master Jun, Guan Qinghan, and Young Master Jun were completely unable to smooth things over. The three of them were genuinely stunned by Dugu Xiao Yi’s bold outburst and hadn't recovered their composure.

The four stared at each other in silence for another tense moment. The little girl suddenly let out a soft whimper, covered her burning cheeks, spun around, and bolted out, as if pursued by a dog—only the loud thud suggested she might have run into something.

"Mo Xie," Jun Wuyi chuckled heartily, "Your charm is quite something. Without even trying, you’ve provoked the beloved pearl of the Dugu Clan into such jealousy. Truly remarkable." For him, while Guan Qinghan's situation might still be undecided, seeing this scene confirmed that Young Miss Dugu was deeply smitten with his nephew. This immediately eased his worries about his nephew's marriage prospects. Given the girl's background alone, being a perfect match was secondary; if the Jun family allied with the Dugu family, even if the Emperor harbored intentions against the Jun Clan, he would have to exercise far greater caution. If his nephew could have a happy ending, Jun Wuyi could die content, even if he were to perish violently tomorrow. His only regret would perhaps be not being able to personally toast his nephew’s wedding wine.

Young Master Jun, sharing in the extreme awkwardness, opened his mouth several times but couldn't utter a word. He truly didn't know when he had become this girl's personal property. Finally, defeated, he spread his hands, shrugged, his face caught between a smile and a grimace, and managed to force out after a long pause, "Being too handsome... that's not my fault, is it? Am I guilty of that too?"

Guan Qinghan frowned and let out a soft huff, but said nothing. After a moment, her face flushed three times, vibrant as the morning clouds.

Jun Wuyi finished his hearty laugh, realizing his earlier words were perhaps unbecoming of an elder, especially since they involved his newly acknowledged goddaughter. He offered an awkward, bitter smile and waved his hand, "You may retire now. I need some quiet to contemplate tomorrow’s battle."

Jun Mo Xie and Guan Qinghan exchanged a look and withdrew together.

Jun Mo Xie had intended to say something to Guan Qinghan, but the moment they stepped out of the tent, she vanished in a flash. Her expression was undeniably flustered, anxious, and shy.

Young Master Jun let out a long sigh, facing the bright moon. He struck a pose of self-admiring isolation, murmuring with profound, intoxicating melancholy: I am a man meant to topple kingdoms, with a body pure as ice and jade; beauties blush at my sight, and maidens flee upon seeing me... He staggered slightly, intoxicated by his own performance, and sauntered back to his quarters.

Inside the tent.

Jun Wuyi flicked his sleeve, and the lamplight in the tent was instantly extinguished, plunging the space into absolute darkness. A moment later, soft moonlight gently streamed in, while the recently snuffed-out candle wick still emitted a faint wisp of blue smoke, rising and dissipating.

Jun Wuyi’s green-robed silhouette merged into the shadows, utterly motionless.

Outside the tent, the three Eastern brothers stood guard by their swords, silent and still, accompanying their elder brother in quiet vigil.

Tonight might be Jun Wuyi’s last night in the mortal realm. His flesh-and-blood brothers were separated by the netherworld; his confidante was at the ends of the earth. But even a hero nearing his end should not be alone! We will stay with you!

Guan Qinghan stood quietly near Third Master Jun's tent. Tears flowed silently down her beautiful face, yet she too remained motionless, daring not to make a sound. Third Uncle, Godfather, tonight, you will not be lonely! Let your daughter keep her Godfather company through this night—perhaps his last.

The surroundings were utterly silent. From the encampment of the Tianxiang Army, countless soldiers, fully armored and helmeted, stood like rigid, straight stakes outside their tents, arranged in perfect formation! Their passionate, masculine eyes held simple, profound emotion. Not a single one moved. Everyone deliberately suppressed their breathing to the finest degree.

They knew that going into battle was tantamount to a death mission. But the Marshal had chosen to sacrifice only himself! Tomorrow, the Marshal would ride out to battle! Tonight, let us accompany you! Marshal, you must not be lonely! A hero must not be lonely! The Blood-Clad General, the idol of the army—this illustrious name would ultimately be carved as deeply into the hearts of the Tianxiang soldiers as his brother, the White-Clothed Marshal Jun Wuhui, had been! He would become a monument! Forging a... Bloody legend!

The clear, cool moonlight slowly ascended to its zenith, the azure sky vast and bright, scattering its pure brilliance across the southern mountains and rivers.

Yet, they had no idea how many young men’s blood would soon spill upon this vast land, once softly kissed by moonlight, when the war commenced tomorrow?

A faint silhouette shot out of the tent with startling speed, then seemed to dissolve into the air, vanishing completely. Only the three Eastern Swordsmen, whose cultivation had long reached the Divine Profound realm, sensed a slight disturbance above their heads. But exchanging bewildered glances, they discovered nothing.

Inside the tent, Jun Wuyi vaguely sensed something but paid it no mind. He wouldn't have cared even if it were a top assassin aiming for him—since he was walking the Yellow Springs path tomorrow anyway, what did a few moments sooner matter? Therefore, he truly cared about nothing! As for the others, they didn't even detect the 'seeming' disturbance!

Jun Mo Xie finally settled the last participant selection—Baili Luoyun—and returned clutching a small vial. He hoped the vial given by He Chongxiao would be useful. If it failed, he would likely have to enter the fray himself to turn the tide. Still, how wonderfully surprising it would be for those anticipating his Third Uncle’s demise to see him return unharmed!

The bright moon sank westward, and the east began to lighten. Dawn always follows the deepest darkness!

Inside the tent, Jun Wuyi slowly stood up. He took a few steps, hesitated, and finally decided to sit in his wheelchair. His legs had long healed, and even the martial skills he had neglected for a decade had returned. But revealing this now might give the Emperor, who was intent on troubling the great clans, grounds to accuse the Jun family of deceiving the throne. If that happened, even with foresight from beyond the grave, he would find it impossible to rest in peace.

Facing the siege of countless high-level Profound Beasts, whether his legs worked or not, the outcome remained the same. Since he was destined to die anyway, why add a baseless charge to his family?

Slowly turning the wheelchair, Jun Wuyi beckoned with his right hand. The treasured sword on the wall shot through the air into his grasp with a soft whir. He quietly opened the tent flap. The moment he stepped out, he was momentarily startled by what lay before him.

For the usually calm and collected Third Master Jun to be startled, the scene must have been truly horrifying! The three Eastern swordsmen stood guard outside the entrance. Seeing him emerge, Dongfang Wenqing smiled faintly and quickly moved to Jun Wuyi’s back, pushing the wheelchair for him. On either side, masses of people—over twenty thousand soldiers standing in dense, perfectly ordered ranks—gazed at him silently, every eye slightly red.

Jun Wuyi’s eyes also grew red. He took a deep breath and commanded, "What are you all doing here? Everyone disperse. It’s not a final parting, why act like this?"

Not a single person moved. How could it not be a final parting? Everyone knew what was about to happen! Jun Wuyi fell silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the familiar faces beside him, his expression complex. After a long pause, his eyes gradually firmed. He raised his right hand lightly and shouted, "Those participating in today’s charge, step forward!"

At his command, three hundred men stood out in perfect order. A few among them hesitated slightly, but ultimately stepped resolutely into the formation, aligning themselves into a square behind Jun Wuyi.

Dongfang Wenqing pushed the wheelchair, moving forward slowly. The three hundred followed behind with measured steps. Just as they were about to exit, a sharp voice rang out: "Wait!"

It was Jun Mo Xie. His expression was solemn as he waved his hand: "To see off our Tianxiang heroes, how can there be no wine to bolster their spirits! Bring wine! Only the finest vintage is worthy of our Tianxiang warriors! Mo Xie wishes you all flourishing martial luck and a victorious return!"

Immediately behind him, men rushed out carrying wine jars, while others brought stacks of large bowls, filling each one to the brim.

In the depths of Jun Mo Xie's eyes lay a trace of apology. Perhaps he had clashed with some of these men in the past, but today they stood forward resolutely. Knowing certain death awaited, yet proceeding with pride, not a single one retreated! This alone was enough to earn Jun Mo Xie’s respect. Regardless of whether they were good or bad men before, anyone who could face death with such composure was a hero! A true man! Heroes and true men know no division of good or bad! But I am sorry. I could have saved you. Saving you would have been effortless for me, but I cannot! War requires death; a guaranteed losing war certainly does! For Third Uncle, for the Jun family, I cannot save you! I apologize! (To be continued)