Chapter 490: If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them

Even Guangling's troops found it hard to chase the Great King; though his mount wasn't the Black Wind, it was a top‑notch horse bred from the ranch's foundation, yet they still hadn't spotted his trace by the Guangling border, and Bai Li Heng felt a private disappointment he couldn't share with outsiders.

Seeing that he couldn't make it home for the New Year, the Great King quickened his pace and finally stopped dawdling.

Leaving Guangling and heading north, they reached Yan County, where they'd heard Lao Er was in control; the Great King indeed saw no refugees, the city walls were manned by armored soldiers, and everything was orderly. Going farther north, the Great King immediately found that familiar icy feeling in his heart.

By the roadside, ragged refugees huddled; the Great King couldn't bear to see it, so as he rode past he tossed out his dry rations, and behind him a large crowd of refugees gathered, hoping to keep their horses.

Truly both pitiable and hateful.

This wasn't a one‑off; passing through a place called Tun County, over a thousand refugees armed themselves and blocked the road to rob travelers. Their weapons were nothing more than sharpened wooden spikes and clubs with stones tied to them—if they ever faced a proper merchant caravan or scholar‑officials, they'd surely get skinned. Their arms were weak, but they had strength in numbers.

Their eyes showed cruelty, greed, and a reckless madness.

A surge of sorrow welled up in the Great King's chest, a heavy feeling that sank into his lungs and left him voiceless. He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing.

"Charge, brothers! They're few!"

"Leave them be, we can relax for a few days!"

Wei Ke calmly raised his bow and loosed three arrows in quick succession; as the refugees charged, one fell immediately, crying out "Ah—!" amid the chaos.

"They have bows!"

"What do we do?"

"Charge! Do they have eight arms?"

Six personal guards also drew the straight swords hidden on their horses; the snow‑white blades gleamed in the sunset, dazzling and unsettling. Some refugees panicked, others grew desperate and kept charging……

Seeing that intimidation hadn't worked, Wei Shen drew his sidearm from his pack and tilted his head toward the Great King, "Your Highness?"

The Great King looked at their dark‑brown spikes, stained and hardened from repeated bloodshed—clearly they weren't new to this trade.

The Great King exhaled, hardened his expression, and said, "Give them a lesson."

The talented scholars and beauties of prosperous Jiangnan know only romance and moonlit nights; they cannot fathom how a few dozen Xiongnu could chase thousands of Jin refugees to flight, but this scene in the setting sun explains it.

That is because they do not know the difference between elite cavalry and ordinary civilians.

Only six elite troops from Youzhou's Xiaoqi cavalry, plus the Great King's whole force of no more than ten, had opened fire; they didn't go on a killing spree—several leaders and those at the front fell, the rest were chased in circles by the warhorses, and the refugees learned that numbers don't always mean strength.

They huddled fearfully on the ground, daring not to breathe, awaiting their verdict.

When the tension reached its breaking point, the Great King turned his horse and rode up to them, saying, "……The chief culprits are gone; I could spare your lives. But if you keep doing what you did today, tomorrow won't be so lucky—it's just the difference between living two more days and dropping dead on the spot to meet King Yan."

The refugees were still wondering which "this king" he meant, when the Great King drawled, "Two options: go farm in the Northern Border, or head to Chang'an and wait for Baili Jin to give you porridge to survive the winter, then return home to plant in spring. Don't dream of joining a rebellion to rise above others—before cavalry you're as fragile as eggs."

Refugees: ……

Before they didn't know; now they do.

Someone boldly said the court had sealed the road to the Northern Border; they wanted to go but couldn't, and the news had spread.

Wei Shen snapped, "Your united action of this scale is rebellion, and rebellion is punishable by extermination of nine clans—you know that? You dare rebel, yet you fear the court blocking the road? What kind of elite force could be doing the blocking?!"

Just as the Northern Border officials thought the refugee numbers had dwindled enough to breathe, they pointed the refugees toward a new road—switch routes and go head‑to‑head with the court.

The journey was long, so the Great King didn't dare stray far from the route; they kept hugging the coast northward, passing through Xu and Gong provinces, on the verge of smoothly reaching Qinghe, when they ran into another scene of refugees assaulting a scholar‑clan stronghold.

Along the way, the Great King at first got angry at the chaotic world, felt heartache and worry, alternating between cursing heaven and cursing Baili Jin for being too busy. Later, after seeing too much, he grew numb, resigned, and turned into a salted fish.

Now, seeing a massive crowd of refugees gathering to assault a great scholar‑clan fortress, the Great King calmly waved his hand and said, "If we can't beat them, we might as well join them."

Taking advantage of a pause to refill water, Wei Shen spat out a mouthful……