Li Yuan still couldn’t read the true situation on the front line—only that it was seesawing—and at last he made up his mind.0

Training for his son turned brutal.0

That same day he accepted the two beast taming secret art manuals personally delivered by the Jing Patriarch, and was on his way to the Vine Pavilion when a familiar yet foreign face appeared outside his door. 0

Black robes, graceful and mysterious, a pale‑pink blossom sewn at the collar. She had a petite frame and bright eyes, yet those eyes no longer cowered. They blazed with a queen’s ferocity, as though she looked down from a throne.2

She was the same height as before, yet somehow always seemed to be staring down at him—an aura even more commanding than the Yin Consort’s nobility.0

“Shuixiang, you’ve returned,” Li Yuan said, but asked nothing more. Jing Shuixiang belonged to the Holy Tree Temple; she would never leave with him.0

“Husband.” She softened her voice, imitating the tone...0