Chapter 257: Bombarding the Prince of Jingjiang's Residence

The White Pole Troops were named for their weapons—every soldier carried a long spear made of white waxwood, its head fitted with a curved, bladed hook that could thrust or slash in battle, much like a halberd.

When crossing mountains and ridges, the hooked spears could also link together to aid in climbing.

And since the White Pole Troops' home of Shizhu lay deep among towering peaks and steep crags, they excelled at mountain warfare, marching over such terrain as if on flat ground. It was precisely this skill that allowed Qin Liangyu to force-march her way to Guangxi's borders in half a month.

After crossing into the province, the White Pole Troops were utterly exhausted—from the moment they left Zunyi it had been high-intensity marching, and after receiving the redeployment order to Guilin, they had barely rested at all along the way.

Fortunately, it was all worth it. From what she had learned, the Nan'ao rebels had not yet managed to besiege Guilin—there was still time to enter the city and reinforce it.

On the official road by the river, the White Pole Troops marched in silence.

"Old sir, what river is this?"

The questioner was a one-eyed general, around thirty years of age, clad in silver robes and silver armor.

This man was Qin Liangyu's only son, Ma Xianglin, known for his peerless valor and his habit of charging enemy lines alone on horseback—earning him the nickname "Little Zilong" within the army.

The old man was a guide the White Pole Troops had hired locally. He smiled and replied, "East of here is the Xiang River, west is the Li River—this river in the middle is the Lingqu Canal."

Ma Xianglin realized, "The Lingqu Canal built by the First Emperor? Then we're less than eighty li from Guilin!"

The guide flattered him, "The general is most astute."

As the army advanced, Qin Liangyu noticed common folk peering at them from the roadside—something rarely seen elsewhere in the Ming.

The White Pole Troops maintained strict discipline, paying the civilians no mind as they marched quietly on.

Before long, the crowd of onlookers actually grew larger. This put Qin Liangyu on alert. She summoned her son and daughter-in-law, shot a glance toward the roadside, and murmured, "Tell the soldiers to stay sharp—these could be rebel spies in disguise."

Her son and daughter-in-law acknowledged the order and passed it down the ranks.

After advancing several more li, a small city came into view in the distance.

The guide said, "That is Xing'an County."

On the official road outside the county walls, the crowd was especially thick. Some people carried jugs of clean water, sacks of grain, and the like—as if awaiting someone.

Ma Xianglin exchanged a look with his wife Zhang Fengyi, and both saw worry in each other's eyes.

The White Pole Troops' discipline was indeed excellent, but they had only just arrived in Guilin—how could they possibly merit this kind of welcome-with-food-and-drink reception? There had to be a trick. Zhang Fengyi hurried to the rear ranks and said in a low voice, "Slow the pace, prepare to form formation…"

Ma Xianglin gripped his spear, every muscle taut, glaring murderously at the crowd.

As the two sides drew closer, the tension mounted.

Qin Liangyu rode her horse to the very front of the column, eyes fixed on the crowd.

Suddenly, the crowd stirred—and surged violently toward the White Pole Troops.

Zhang Fengyi shouted, "Form formation!"

Ma Xianglin strode forward, spear raised to shield his mother.

Just then, Qin Liangyu saw that the civilians were old and young alike, their clothes thin, with nowhere to hide weapons—clearly not disguised impostors. She hastily called out, "Hold!"

The White Pole Troops halted and sheathed their weapons.

The civilians, startled by the troops' reaction, stopped a dozen paces away, faces full of suspicion.

One man plucked up his courage, stepped forward, and cupped his hands in salute. "May I ask where the general comes from?"

Qin Liangyu returned the salute. "I am Qin Liangyu, Regional Commander of Shizhu in the Great Ming, ordered here to suppress bandits. Passing through your lands, I hope you will forgive any disturbance." "Not at all, not at all." The man's face could not hide his disappointment.

The surrounding civilians were even less restrained—the moment they heard it was Ming imperial troops, their expressions shifted to fear and wariness. They clutched their food tightly to their chests and backed away repeatedly.

Once they had retreated far enough, they broke into a run, shouting in low voices to civilians still coming out of the city, "Don't leave the city! Those aren't the righteous army! Go home!" In no time at all, the roadside crowd had scattered completely, and even the flow of people through the county gate thinned considerably.

The entire official road fell silent. Not a single grain of food was left behind, but in their haste the crowd had kicked over several buckets of clean water, leaving the ground a muddy mess. Ma Xianglin and his wife exchanged bewildered looks and pressed the guide for an explanation.

The guide looked embarrassed, making excuses and refusing to answer.

Only after Ma Xianglin feigned anger and pressed him hard did the guide say cautiously, "Those folk were waiting for the Nan'ao army…"

"What? They were waiting for the rebels?" Ma Xianglin's voice rose.

The guide hurriedly forced a smile. "Please don't be angry, sir soldier—they're just ignorant country folk who don't know any better. Not worth getting upset over such lowly wretches."

Ma Xianglin fumed, "Speak plainly! An entire county of people waiting with food and drink for rebels—are they all planning to defect?"

Fear crept onto the guide's face.

Qin Liangyu rebuked, "Mind your manners!"

Ma Xianglin shot the guide a glare, then let the matter drop.

That evening, the White Pole Troops made camp on the banks of the Li River. Qin Liangyu ordered the cooks to go to the nearby county town to buy grain and rice.

The guide found this rather odd and asked, "Since your force is imperial troops, shouldn't your provisions be supplied by the court? Why buy your own?" Having marched with the army for several days, he had seen that the White Pole Troops were nothing like the Ming soldiers who were half-bandits themselves, so he dared to speak more freely.

Zhang Fengyi was warming herself by the fire. She replied, "We are native chieftain troops—we must supply our own grain on the march. Only when we reach our garrison area do the local authorities provide for us. This time we set out in haste to defend the capital, then were redirected mid-journey, so our provisions ran short."

Ma Xianglin said with displeasure, "Why tell him all that?"

Zhang Fengyi said, "The old man is not a bad person."

The guide had been hired in Quanzhou, which lay in a different direction from the Nan'ao army's route, and they had checked his background—he could not be a spy. Add to that the rapport built over their days together, and that was why Zhang Fengyi shared the truth with him.

Hearing this, the guide's eyes darted away. He sighed, "Ah… you folks have it hard too. But I'm afraid silver won't do you any good in these parts. Don't bother buying grain—you should just go home."

"What do you mean?" Ma Xianglin pressed.

The guide took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and said in a low voice, "This is not something I ought to say, but your army are all good people, and this old man cannot stand by and watch good folk be swindled. This region is ruled by the Prince of Jingjiang. The prince mints copper coins in secret, monopolizes grain and salt, and seizes farmland by force, driving up prices in every prefecture and county and leaving the people with no way to live. This has been going on for a long time now…

In their hearts… everyone is hoping someone will come and rid them of this scourge—that's why they support the Nan'ao army.

But this old man can see your army is also made of good people… Ah, this world—why is it always the good who suffer and the wicked who profit?"

By the time the moon rose over the eastern hills, the foraging soldiers returned—and the guide's words proved true.

The cooks had spent every last coin on rations, yet the haul wasn't even enough for a single meal for the whole army.

Ma Xianglin flew into a rage, cursing, "Damn it all—they dare rob us!"

With that, he made to lead men into the county town.

Qin Liangyu blocked his path. "Nonsense! Matters of state come first!"

Ma Xianglin said, "Mother! They've trampled all over us—your son…"

Qin Liangyu shot him a glare: "This is a military order!"

Ma Xianglin, unconvinced, clasped his hands in salute: "Yes."

Qin Liangyu's tone softened: "We'll reach Guilin tomorrow. Tell the brothers to bear with it a little longer."

The next day, the White Pole Troops arrived at Guilin's north gate. Qin Liangyu took leave of the guide and led the troops into the city.

Unexpectedly, the soldiers guarding the city refused to let the White Pole Troops enter under any circumstances.

Though Guilin's north gate was open, under the laws of the Great Ming, troops could not enter a city without a billeting banner issued by the local prefectural office.

The White Pole Troops begged to no avail, and Qin Liangyu had to call out to the gate herself, politely asking the guards to report to the prefectural office.

Meanwhile, in Guilin city, in the pigpen of the princely manor.

The current Prince of Jingjiang, Zhu Lühu, stood cheerfully beside this filthy place, enjoying a performance of torture.

More than ten people were blindfolded, their hands bound behind their backs, kneeling in the pigpen. Their bodies were covered in fine cuts made by knives. The manor guards poured bucket after bucket of pig manure over the heads of the bound men.

The filth seeped into their wounds, drawing endless screams of agony from the captives.

The steward said coldly: "Anyone willing to hand over their farmland, sign the deed and you can leave at once. But wait too long, and the filth will enter your bloodstream—then you won't survive."

At these words, someone immediately kowtowed and begged for mercy. The guards brought clean water to wash away the filth.

The man took the brush with trembling hands. Seeing the deed was for three hundred and fifteen mu west of Peach Blossom River, he pleaded: "I beg your mercy, my lord. Please leave me at least a little. If I hand over all my fields, my family of over fifty mouths will surely starve to death..."

The steward gave a cold snort.

The man's body trembled, but in the end he signed the deed. The guards cleared a path and let him leave.

Zhu Lühu took the deed from the steward with delight, reading it aloud: "Excellent, excellent. This way, the three thousand mu to the north and the one thousand mu to the south will be connected."

The remaining landowners were still gritting their teeth and holding out.

Zhu Lühu was in no hurry, merely chatting with the steward: "The counties near the Ling Canal suffered a drought just before the new year. How are things now?" "Reporting to Your Highness, several heavy rains fell in mid-to-late March. They've recovered."

"Recovered?" Zhu Lühu's expression turned urgent. "How can that be? There are still several hundred mu of fine farmland there I haven't taken!"

The steward smiled: "After a great disaster, a great plague is sure to follow. I have already ordered a stockpile of medicinal herbs. Once the epidemic breaks out, we'll trade medicine for land. This way, the princely manor not only gains a reputation for saving lives, but those landless troublemakers will have no strength to gather and rebel."

Zhu Lühu's worry turned to joy: "Brilliant! Though I don't care much for reputation—no amount of good name can be traded for two mu of land." As he spoke, several more landowners broke under the pressure and rose to sign their deeds.

The steward berated the rest: "The Nan'ao rebels are about to attack! Why keep your fields? Offer them as incense fields for the princely manor, and you'll show your utter loyalty to the Great Ming."

Only four people remained in the pigpen, gritting their teeth.

Just then, a manor guard came to report: "Your Highness, a contingent of Shi Zhu chieftain troops has arrived north of the city, some two to three thousand men. Their leader's surname is Qin. They say they were dispatched by Governor Zhang to assist in defending Guilin. The Governor requests Your Highness's decision on whether to allow them into the city?"

Zhu Lühu frowned: "Shi Zhu? What poor backwater chieftain comes to Guilin to cadge favors? You tell them—military and political matters are not for me to decide. Let the Governor handle it as he sees fit."

The guard withdrew.

The Prince of Jingjiang then discussed with the steward the lands along the lower Li River. These places were currently held by the Nan'ao army, but once the rebels retreated, they could be seized. After all, war brings death and injury—a few more ownerless plots was only natural.

Before long, the guard hurried back.

"Your Highness, the chieftain troops outside say they don't need to enter the city, but they beg the prefectural office to issue grain and fodder. They also wish to meet with the Assistant Regional Commander to oversee the city's fortifications." "Insolent!" Zhu Lühu roared. "Beggars coming to me for handouts? Get out!"

In the days that followed, the White Pole Troops camped outside the city walls, not a single grain of rice obtained from the prefectural office.

Qin Liangyu spent every day wrangling with the Prefect and the Governor, watching helplessly as the counties around Guilin fell one by one. The tenth day of the fourth month.

The Nan'ao western army breached Yongfu County, and the northern army breached Yangshuo. Guilin's front now had no barrier whatsoever, fully exposed to the Nan'ao army's edge. Only now did the Prince of Jingjiang wake from his dream, hastily inviting Qin Liangyu into the city and summoning troops from all around to come to the rescue.

But it was already too late.

The two waterways into Guilin had been completely sealed off by the Nan'ao army, and the surrounding guard stations and camps had been crushed one by one.

Guilin was a turtle in a jar.

On the twelfth day of the fourth month, Bailangzai led the western army from the canal into the Li River, joining forces with the northern army.

The combined forces numbered over fifteen thousand, with more than thirty Sea Wolf warships, plus over a thousand large and small vessels for transporting troops and grain.

They stretched more than twenty li along the Li River, masts touching rudders, ships covering the river.

Seeing this sight, the few small camps on Guilin's outskirts surrendered one after another. Guilin was now completely isolated.

On the thirteenth day of the fourth month, the Nan'ao army advanced on two fronts, surrounding Guilin completely from the Li River and Peach Blossom River.

Guilin city was long and narrow from north to south. The Li River and Peach Blossom River were naturally moats—but without a navy of their own, the defenders instead found themselves trapped in the city by the waterways the Nan'ao army used.

Lei Sanxiang chose to establish the Nan'ao army's main camp east of Guilin, separated from the city by the river.

The Kui Water Gate on the east side of Guilin city.

All the important figures of Guilin had gathered, shading their eyes with their hands as they gazed toward the Nan'ao camp.

They saw a tall platform rising from the camp, three zhang in height, its top nearly level with Guilin's city walls—and still climbing. The Guangxi Regional Military Commissioner sighed in relief: "The Governor need not worry. Since the rebels are building a watchtower, they clearly have no plan for a swift assault. We need only hold fast and await reinforcements." Seeing the Governor still glancing anxiously at the river, the Regional Military Commissioner added: "The Li River channel is narrow—the Nan'ao Fujian junks and gunboats can't get in. Those Haicang ships carry cannons, but they have no capacity for siege."

The Governor pondered a moment: "I wonder what Commander Qin has to say?"

Ma Xianglin gave a cold snort at this. When the White Pole Troops had arrived outside Guilin half a month ago, the Governor, the Regional Inspector, the Prefect, and the Regional Military Commissioner had all looked down their noses at them, treating them like beggars, unwilling to spare a single grain of rice.

Now that the enemy had surrounded the city, they finally remembered to ask Commander Qin's opinion.

Such arrogance followed by groveling, such shortsightedness—Ma Xianglin found it utterly contemptible.

Qin Liangyu took no offense, saying calmly: "Judging from the military dispatches from Guangxi, the rebel Lin excels at artillery and at inducing surrenders, but is weak at scaling-ladder siege tactics. Therefore, we should stockpile ample brick, stone, and sand to fill any breaches in the walls at a moment's notice, and prepare large timbers to brace the battlements and walls against collapse. At the same time, we can reduce the number of troops stationed on the walls, and spread the soldiers out to avoid heavy casualties from cannon fire.

When the enemy bombards, all soldiers except the sentries should descend from the walls to take cover, returning only when the cannon fire stops.

During the siege, we must treat the soldiers and civilians well on the one hand, while enforcing curfews, patrols, and strict gate discipline on the other, guarding against mutiny and uprising."

After hearing this, the Governor was struck with awe, clasping his hands: "These measures are excellent. With Commander Qin in Guilin, I believe we are safe."

Ma Xianglin could not help but sneer: "If you had asked Commander Qin's opinion earlier, perhaps Yangshuo and Yongfu wouldn't have—"

The Governor's face turned awkward.

Qin Liangyu berated him angrily: "I am discussing military matters with the Governor—what business is it of yours to speak? Report yourself for military discipline!"

Ma Xianglin was deeply displeased, his neck stiff with defiance for a moment, but in the end he could not defy her. He clasped his hands: "Yes."

After Ma Xianglin withdrew, Qin Liangyu clasped her hands: "My son is rash by nature. I beg the Governor not to take offense."

The Governor returned the salute: "I have heard that the Young General's left eye was wounded by an arrow from the Jianzhou barbarians during the bloody battle at Hun River. After being struck, he did not change his expression—he pulled out the arrow and fought on fiercely, sending the Jianzhou barbarians fleeing in terror. Seeing him today, he is indeed brave beyond measure. My admiration!"

The words were well-meant, but the tone lacked sincerity and carried a hint of mockery instead.

The Great Ming ruled with civil officials over military ones. Qin Liangyu was a military commander, a chieftain, and a woman—she sat at the very bottom of the bureaucratic chain of contempt.

Were it not for the fact that defending the city depended on her, how would a dignified Governor stoop so low?

After seeing the Governor off, Qin Liangyu listened to the sound of the military cane striking below the city walls and let out a long sigh.

That afternoon, the Nan'ao army's kites went up, and leaflets fluttered down with the wind with a rustling sound.

Qin Liangyu sent people to collect them throughout the city, and took one out before they were destroyed.

The general content was similar to what she had seen by the shores of Dongting Lake, though the details differed.

This leaflet omitted all policies regarding chieftains, and focused instead on the Nan'ao army's tax-exemption policy for the common people and the crimes of the Jingjiang Prince.

The ending called on the people and garrison troops not to throw away their lives for an evil prince, urging everyone to unite and open the city gates.

After reading the leaflet, Qin Liangyu said not a word and tossed it into the fire.

Ma Xianglin watched the leaflets scattering through the streets like snowflakes and said: "No wonder some say the Nan'ao army fights while carrying a printing workshop. Today I've seen it with my own eyes—paper is so precious, yet the Nan'ao army scatters it all over the city as if it cost nothing."

Zhang Fengyi said: "Perhaps in the Nan'ao army's eyes, human lives are far more precious than paper."

Qin Liangyu's heart stirred, and she looked at her daughter-in-law.

"Mother, did I say something wrong?"

Qin Liangyu snapped back to herself, gave a gentle smile, and shook her head.

Ma Xianglin took a step and immediately winced, clutching his backside: "Mother, those personal guards of yours hit far too hard. With a great battle imminent, how am I supposed to take the field like this?"

Qin Liangyu laughed and scolded: "You're thick-skinned and tough—it'll be fine in a few days."

As the three chatted and laughed, a Battalion Commander of the Governor's personal troops climbed up the city wall and started cursing: "Well now! The rebels scatter leaflets slandering His Highness, and not only does Commander Qin do nothing, she sits here laughing and joking?"

Ma Xianglin angrily retorted: "Who do you think you are, to speak ill of my mother?"

The Battalion Commander of the personal troops said: "Just a female chieftain—what's there that can't be said?"

Ma Xianglin flew into a rage and stepped forward to strike, but the wound on his backside made him stumble.

The Battalion Commander let out a mocking laugh, enraging Ma Xianglin so much that he reached for his blade.

At that moment, Qin Liangyu suddenly moved, taking a large water-buffalo-horn bow from one of her personal guards.

This action stunned both the Battalion Commander and Ma Xianglin into stillness.

The wind was now somewhat stronger, pressing the kites noticeably lower. Qin Liangyu drew the bow, nocked an arrow, and—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—loosed three arrows in succession, each flying like a shooting star.

The Battalion Commander looked up and saw the kites still intact. He was about to sneer.

Then suddenly one of the kites fell inexplicably, and the two kites beside it followed in succession, dragging large quantities of unlaunched leaflets into the river. Qin Liangyu's three arrows had cut the kite strings. Such extraordinary skill left the Battalion Commander stunned on the spot.

When he came back to his senses, his arrogance was gone. He said in a low voice: "His Highness requests Commander Qin to come to the prince's residence to discuss matters."

"The Jingjiang Prince?" Qin Liangyu was slightly surprised. "Understood."

Due to Guilin city's narrow north-south layout, the prince's residence was not far from the eastern city wall—only three or four hundred paces.

When Qin Liangyu entered the Chengyun Hall of the prince's residence, she was astonished to find that nearly all of Guilin's military and civil dignitaries had gathered there.

The current Jingjiang Prince, Zhu Lühu, was a thin, dark man. Were it not for his splendid attire, he would look no different from an ordinary old farmer.

Seeing Qin Liangyu enter, Zhu Lühu latched onto her like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. Interrupting her formal greeting, he asked: "When will General Qin leave the city to repel the enemy?" Qin Liangyu replied: "In Guilin city, the Governor's personal troops, guard station soldiers, local militia, and the prince's own guards together number no more than three thousand. Adding my two thousand White Pole troops, crossing the Li River to leave the city and repel the enemy would be rather difficult. I believe—"

"Preposterous!" Zhu Lühu flicked his sleeve. "Cowardice in the face of the enemy—can you bear that charge?"

"Your Highness—"

Zhu Lühu continued: "Then... how about you escort me out of the city? Yes, yes—I've heard that Commander Qin's White Pole troops are strictly disciplined and invincible. Escort me to Zunyi. It's settled!"

Even Qin Liangyu, who had weathered countless storms, was left dumbfounded. She hurriedly said: "If Your Highness leaves, the morale of Guilin's army and people will collapse instantly!" Since the Jingnan Campaign, the Great Ming had strictly guarded against princes involving themselves in military and political affairs—hence the saying: "Enfeoffed but not granted land, titled but not governing the people, receiving stipends but not managing affairs."

Zhu Lühu's energy was entirely spent on usurping his nephew's princely title and seizing the common people's farmland. He knew nothing of marching and fighting, which was why he only thought of fleeing on a whim after the Nan'ao army had already surrounded the city.

The Guangxi Governor advised: "According to the ancestral precepts of the Great Ming, imperial princes may not leave their cities without authorization. If Your Highness leaves the city, you may face having your title stripped and your stipend reduced."

Zhu Lühu said: "With a great enemy at the gates, I cannot concern myself with so much."

The Governor continued: "The enemy currently surrounds the east, west, and south sides—this is the strategy of surrounding three sides and leaving one open. There may well be an ambush north of the city. If Your Highness leaves, your safety cannot be guaranteed."

Zhu Lühu finally deflated, and circled back to the matter of leaving the city to face the enemy.

Zhu Lühu was well aware of what Guilin's garrison troops were like, so he could only beg Qin Liangyu to send out her forces.

Qin Liangyu held her patience and reasoned with him at length: "To be honest with Your Highness, I have already devised a plan to repel the enemy.

This is the dry season, and the narrowest point of the Li River is only a little over thirty zhang wide.

I only need to send a small elite force out of the city to harass the Li River supply route, while using the mountainous terrain to skirmish with the enemy. Then Lin the rebel will collapse on his own." Zhu Lühu looked doubtful: "Will this plan work?"

"Lin the rebel's army formations, tactics, and weaponry all resemble the Qi family army. On open plains, my native troops cannot prevail. But in mountainous and nighttime combat, my native troops have the advantage."

This was not idle boasting on Qin Liangyu's part. During the bloody battle of Hun River, the White Pole troops had fought alongside the Qi family army, and the entire force was thoroughly familiar with the Qi family army's methods.

Using one's strength against the enemy's weakness—Qin Liangyu was ninety percent confident.

While inspecting the enemy camp during the day, Qin Liangyu had already planned where to advance and where to cut off the Li River supply route.

But harassment was not a decisive battle—it could not immediately repel the enemy. Qin Liangyu needed time.

While Zhu Lühu was hesitating, a rumbling sound suddenly came from the sky outside the city. Everyone in Chengyun Hall looked curiously toward the sky beyond the doors.

Then a tremendous boom sounded not far away, as if a meteor had struck the earth, followed by the sound of bricks and stones shattering, causing the floor of Chengyun Hall to tremble slightly. In an instant, more tremendous booms came from all directions. Judging by the sound, some were near and some far, but all were around the prince's residence.

Zhu Lühu's face was filled with terror: "Have the rebels broken in? Have the rebels broken in?"

No one could answer.

Moments later, a prince's residence guard ran swiftly to the front of Chengyun Hall, his face pale with fear, panting heavily: "It's cannon fire! The rebels are shelling the prince's residence!" "What?" Zhu Lühu was greatly alarmed. "They can shoot this far?"

As if in answer to his words, another round of cannon fire sounded—a whistling noise growing from distant to near—and the glazed tiles of Chengyun Hall burst open with a tremendous crash, leaving a large hole.

A pitch-black object dragged an afterimage through the air and smashed down with the force of thunder.

The floor tiles shattered with a tremendous boom, the deafening sound making everyone's ears ring until they were nearly deafened.

Blue glazed tiles rained down from overhead, shattering across the ground with a clatter, while stones and wood splinters flew in all directions.

The pitch-black cannonball bounced twice across the hall, smashed through the vermilion throne carved with gilded coiling dragons, then struck a pillar and came to a stop.

Dust rose on all sides.

The roomful of provincial grandees ended up covered in dust and grime, though fortunately no one was struck by the cannonball.

In the silence, someone let out a pained, low cry.

The assembled grandees followed the sound with their eyes—and every one of them felt their soul fly beyond the heavens.

There sat Zhu Lühu on the ground, one hand clutching his right eye, blood seeping endlessly through his fingers, staining half his body a gruesome red. "My eye! This prince's eye!"

Zhu Lühu let out an inhuman shriek of agony, writhing and struggling on the ground.

"Your Highness... this..."

"Quickly summon the physician—make that physician crawl over here at once!"

"Wait! Your Highness, the hall is dangerous—we must leave this place at once!"

The Guangxi grandees scrambled to support Zhu Lühu and rushed him out of the hall.

As he passed by Qin Liangyu's side, Zhu Lühu halted, fixing her with his single eye, his face twisted beyond recognition, like a man-eating fiend.

"Kill them all! Kill them all!"

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen