Chapter 747

He kept scanning the troops that had just plunged into the Western Regions camp, searching for Prince Chen's figure.

Your Highness? He was clearly just here a moment ago!

Is Your Highness really dead? Could the person just now have been an impostor?

Or perhaps someone merely donned his battle robe and gold crown?

It's not impossible; from that distance they couldn't possibly make out his face.

Zhang Wu'an saw his hesitation, frowned, turned to Li Shen and said, "He doesn't believe it?"

Li Shen nodded, spurred his horse forward a few steps, and shouted at the battlement: "General Zhou! We've known each other for years—when have I ever deceived you?"

Prince Chen and Prince Qing are indeed dead!

If you don't believe it, feel free to send someone to ask!

Zhou Hao stared at his face, his lips twitching, and the hand gripping the crenel slowly loosened.

Your Highness is already dead, so there's really no way to keep fighting this battle.

He gritted his teeth and ordered: "Open the camp gate."

His voice hoarse, as if something were clogging his throat, he said: "Put down your weapons… we… surrender."

The defenders in the camp had long lost the will to fight; hearing the order, they felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted, and they flung their bows, arrows, knives, and spears to the ground.

The camp gate slowly opened.

Bai Bu Luo also kept searching the crowd for Prince Chen, but found nothing.

He shook his head, resigned: now it didn't matter whether Prince Chen lived or died.

His subordinates all thought he was dead, so even if he were alive he'd be useless.

Prince Chen sat stiffly on his horse, his whole body ice-cold, his hand barely gripping his sword.

Zhou Hao, you are my own trusted aide whom I promoted myself—how could you so readily believe Li Shen?

"Your Highness!" the deputy general beside him urged, "The Northern Main Camp has surrendered! We must leave at once!"

"Leave?" Prince Chen stared fixedly at the open camp gate, veins bulging.

Yes, the Northern Main Camp is no longer his.

Worse still, he is caught between Bai Bu Luo's and Zhang Wu'an's forces, unable to defend both ends, and could be surrounded and annihilated at any moment.

He came to his senses, glanced at the side path they had taken, pointed, and said: "Retreat! Follow me to the Eastern Main Camp!"

Yes!

The group took advantage of the lull in fighting and sprinted down the side path.

Zhang Wu'an selected a group of soldiers: "You, go after them—quickly!"

Yes!

Prince Chen, relying on his familiarity with Jingcheng's routes, twisted left and right to throw off pursuit, and he ordered the rear troops to desperately block, barely shaking off the pursuers behind him.

He dared not stop, sprinting all the way, until the Eastern Main Camp drew ever nearer.

He looked up: the camp gate was shut, the banners on the wall still flying, a line of archers and crossbowmen patrolling back and forth, their armor bright.

Joy flared in his eyes.

The Eastern Main Camp still stands! The enemy hasn't arrived yet!

He drew his rein with a "huh—" and stopped, gulping great breaths.

Heavy breathing also came from behind him.

He glanced back and saw only a few hundred stragglers still trailing him.

Each wore a crooked helmet and askew armor, soaked in blood; some had no weapons at all, hands empty, eyes filled with bewilderment.

Prince Chen, ignoring everything else, spurred his horse to the gate, raised his head and shouted: "Open the gate! Quickly open the camp gate—I am here!"

The guard on the wall glanced down at him, then turned and walked away.

Prince Chen frowned, wondering what that meant.

Seeing me arrive in person, why not open the gate wide? Not even observing propriety?

Moments later, a burly middle-aged officer climbed onto the wall—none other than Yuan Cheng, commander of the Eastern Main Camp.

He looked down at Prince Chen from his height.

His battle robe was gone, his gold crown missing, his hair half-loose, his body and face smeared with blood, a sorry sight—hardly a trace of his former self.

Behind him, a few hundred remnant soldiers, each covered in wounds.

Yuan Cheng stared at Prince Chen for a good while: "Your Highness?"

"Yes! It's really me!" Prince Chen replied hastily: "Yuan Cheng! Open the gate quickly!"

He wiped the blood from his face with his hand, his voice hoarse: "I command you to open the gate at once and welcome me back to camp!"

Yuan Cheng did not move, still looking down on him: "Your Highness, please forgive this subordinate; with armor on, it is inconvenient to perform the salute."

Prince Chen startled at those words—wasn't that exactly what he had said to the young emperor before the war began?

"Armor on the body makes saluting inconvenient."

Not a word differs!

A sour feeling welled up in his heart, a medley of emotions,

"Your Highness," Yuan Cheng asked calmly, "where is Prince Qing?"

Prince Chen's hand clenched tightly on the reins.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Xiao Jichang is already dead, but now he absolutely cannot say so!

Seeing the situation before him, if Yuan Cheng knew, he would certainly not open the gate.

He gritted his teeth: "I… I had him supervise the battle on the city wall."

"Supervising the battle?" Yuan Cheng's eyes flickered, "The city gate has already been lost, what battle is he still supervising on the city wall?"

Chen Wang's heart tightened.

Yuan Cheng continued, asking calmly: "My forces are few here, only a pitiful less than ten thousand."

"If Your Highness wishes to use troops, Zhou Hao of the North City Main Camp has fifteen thousand elite soldiers, and Li Shen of the West City Main Camp also has more than ten thousand."

"Why doesn't Your Highness go look for them? Instead you took a detour to come here?"

Chen Wang's complexion completely changed.

He suppressed his anger, tried to appear calm, and shouted loudly: "Yuan Cheng! Guard the East City Main Camp and earn meritorious service for me!"

"I will immediately appoint you as Senior General Who Protects the State, holding a third-rank position!"

"Grant the title of Marquis of Loyalty and Righteousness! Hereditary for descendants!"

"I command you, quickly open the gate and follow me to defeat the rebel army!"

Yuan Cheng's face was expressionless, unmoved in the slightest.

"But if you do not obey the king's order," Chen Wang glared at his eyes, "then don't blame me for being heartless!"

"Defying the king's order is such a great crime; surely I need not tell you."

Just as his words fell, the sound of hooves rose from behind him.

Chen Wang's heart sank, he slowly turned his head and looked back.

A fiery red banner surged out from a nearby street corner, crimson like blood, forming a continuous sheet.

Rows of black iron cavalry trod with synchronized hoofbeats, pressing forward like a moving iron wall.

The leader's large blade flashed with a piercing cold light.

Chen Wang, both startled and anxious, turned back and shouted at Yuan Cheng: "Open the gate! I command you to open the gate! Let me in!"

"Did you hear me? Open the gate quickly!"