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Twilight weighs heavily on the city walls of Xindu, and the wind is thick with the smell of burning. Fourteen years. Wei Shao stands on the half-burnt city wall, the blood on his armor already dried to a dark brown, indistinguishable whether it belongs to the enemy or to days gone by. Looking down at the scorched earth beneath his feet, his brother's final words before taking his last breath echo repeatedly in his ears—"Never trust the Qiao family." The head of Li Su of Bianzhou already hangs from the flagpole. But he knows this is not enough. That name is carved into his very bones: the Qiao family. Three hundred miles away in Yanzhou, Xiao Qiao is in her grandfather's study, tracing the broken Yongning Canal on the map over and over with her finger. She asks, "Back then, did our Qiao family really refuse to save them?" Her grandfather does not answer, but only pushes a yellowed alliance covenant before her—the alliance at Lujiao, to live and die together. At the bottom, the thumbprints of Wei Lun and Qiao Gui are still clearly visible. Panic grips the Qiao household. Da Qiao sits dazed on a swing, clutching a wild flower pressed into her palm by Bizhi, the horse groom. Liu Yan's betrothal gifts have already arrived at the door, yet her eyes look only toward the stables. Meanwhile, in the old Wei estate, Lady Xu gently places a chess piece in the center of the board. She says to Gongsun Yang beside her, "That boy is about to take action. Someone must stop him." The wind rises. The sound of hooves from all directions is on the way. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe the current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>