For three days, the rigorous training continued without pause. Apart from brief meals and short hours of sleep, every moment was spent honing their endurance, discipline, and combat skills.


    As the night before their departure arrived, the recruits were granted one final night to return home, spend time with their families, and rest properly. By dawn, they were to return and prepare to march.


    Yuntai naturally made his way home.


    Inside the modest Li household, warm candlelight flickered, casting shadows on the wooden walls. The air was filled with the familiar aroma of a simple yet hearty meal—freshly steamed rice, a light vegetable soup, and stir-fried meat carefully portioned to last through the cold season.


    Seated around the low wooden table, the Li family shared a quiet meal. Li Heng, his two sons, and little Yue, the youngest member of the family, sat together, the usual lively chatter replaced by a somber atmosphere.


    As the meal came to an end, Li Heng set his chopsticks down, looking intently at Yuntai.


    “Although I know you have made up your mind, as your father, I can only support your decision.” His voice was calm, but the weight of his emotions was clear.


    A brief silence followed before he sighed deeply.


    “The only thing I ask of you… is to protect your life above all else. No matter what happens, securing your survival must come first. I do not want to lose a son.”


    Across the table, Li Xun nodded solemnly.


    “Brother, just remember—you are not alone. No matter how strong you are, always be cautious. Recklessness leads to regret.” He hesitated before adding with a small smirk, “And don’t go acting like a hero for no reason.”


    Yuntai chuckled softly, but the warmth in his chest was undeniable.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Just then, a small hand tugged at his sleeve.


    He turned to see little Yue, his younger sister, staring up at him with big, watery eyes. Her tiny fingers clutched his sleeve tightly.


    “Big brother... you won’t leave forever, right?”


    The room fell silent.


    Yuntai felt a lump in his throat. He reached out, gently ruffling her hair.


    “Of course not,” he reassured her, forcing a smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”


    But little Yue wasn’t convinced. Her lips quivered as she pouted, then—without warning—she threw her small arms around him, hugging him tightly.


    “You have to come back! Promise!”


    Yuntai froze for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around her tiny frame.


    “I promise.”


    His words were soft, but the weight behind them was heavy.


    Li Heng watched the scene quietly, his eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. A father sending his son to war—there was no heavier burden.


    That night, the Li household lingered around thetable longer than usual. The warmth of family filled the room.


    "The morning sunlight shimmered off the vast expanse of slowly receding snow, casting long shadows over the assembled soldiers.


    The formation was set—rows of infantry at the front, followed by the heavily burdened supply carts in the middle, and a rear guard ensuring protection. Mounted cavalry rode along the flanks, their horses snorting in the cold morning air. The leading general and officers, mounted on their steeds, kept a close watch on the progress.


    Despite the arrival of spring, the deep snow still clung stubbornly to the landscape, making every step an exhausting effort. Even the horses and cargo struggled, their hooves and wheels sinking into the slush, often requiring extra hands to push or pull them free.


    Among the marching soldiers, Yuntai and his squad of twelve men moved forward in formation, following the leading general’s pace. He knew this journey would be long and arduous, requiring both physical endurance and mental resilience.


    The march continued for days, with brief stops to rest, eat, and train whenever possible. The routine was grueling, but necessary—momentum had to be maintained.


    One week later, they had only covered a fourth of their journey.


    A temporary camp had been set up amidst the snow, rows of tents dotting the white landscape. Flickering torchlights illuminated the cold night as soldiers huddled for warmth, some tending to their gear, others trying to catch a few hours of sleep before resuming their march.


    Inside one of the largest command tents, three figures stood over a detailed map of the region.


    Zhao Liang, standing tall and composed, traced a gloved finger along the routes, his brows furrowed. Wei Zhong and Qin Hao stood beside him, their gazes sharp as they studied the terrain.


    “In about a week, the roads should be more visible,” Zhao Liang stated. “Once the snow melts, we can move faster.”


    Wei Zhong nodded. “Yes, although our progress has been slower than expected, the terrain is to blame. The training and the supply carts getting stuck have cost us time. But once the snow clears, our pace will improve.”


    Qin Hao exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Even so, we cannot afford to waste any more time. If we delay too much, our reinforcements won’t reach the fortress before it’s too late.”


    Zhao Liang’s gaze hardened. “Once the roads clear, training will be halted. Every moment lost in training will be made up for in marching. My brother should reach the fortress within a week, and the Bao army will follow about a week after. We must not fall behind.”


    The two officers exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.


    Zhao Liang’s voice grew firmer.


    “By tomorrow morning, we will begin moving at an increased pace. We must reach the fortress in time.”


    Outside, the wind howled through the camp, as the soldiers prepared themselves for the grueling days ahead.