Chapter 195

Zhou Miaoxuan hadn't expected this man to speak so bluntly—he'd come right out and demanded she become his wife. Before she could say anything, he'd already launched into battle—and finished it just as quickly.

To be honest, she'd once admired Ding Baiying, who carried a blade every day and had formidable combat ability. Who knew she was all show and no substance—crushed in just a few moves.

Though Wang Yan's words weren't pleasant, his unvarnished, unpretentious masculinity was hard to dislike. Of course, that was only when she observed how he viewed Ding Baiying—it had nothing to do with herself.

Now that Wang Yan's gaze turned toward her, Zhou Miaoxuan instinctively pressed her back hard against the chair: "I… I won't marry you…"

Hearing this, Wang Yan shook his head. True, she was different from Yang Zixi, and had her own charm—but they shared the same damn foolishness. Not marry him? She had zero clue about her own situation. Forget everything else—her sensitive identity made her unfit to be his official wife; that'd be practically inviting Zhu Youjian to cause trouble. Besides, could just anyone become his lawful wife?

"Marry me? You're dreaming. At best, you'd be a concubine." Wang Yan said: "You know Zhu Youjian sent men to kill you, don't you? You think you're his beloved confidante? He's got countless concubines."

Zhou Miaoxuan wasn't stupid—she knew all this perfectly well. She simply refused to believe it, choosing self-deception instead. Now she said nothing, just stared at Wang Yan with red, stubborn eyes.

"Don't waste your tears—they're useless." Wang Yan glanced at Ding Baiying, who sat nearby sipping tea: "You two will be sisters from now on. Get to know each other better. Explain to this fool exactly how Zhu Youjian treats you—make her see clearly."

Ding Baiying paid no mind to Wang Yan's flippant words. She wasn't one to dawdle—if she couldn't beat him now, she'd wait until she could. She glared at him and said: "You keep saying Zhu Youjian, Zhu Youjian—yet here you are, dragging us all under his command. So you don't respect the Great Ming Emperor, do you, General Wang? You've long harbored rebellious intentions—have you already colluded with the Jianzhou Jurchens?"

"Whether I'm rebellious isn't your call—it's what the court officials say. If they say I'm rebellious, then I am. If they say I guard the frontier, then I guard the frontier. As for colluding with the Jianzhou Jurchens? They're not even worthy of the thought. Don't waste your breath on useless accusations. Just think carefully about when you'll come to me."

Wang Yan said coolly: "Someone, take the two ladies to the back compound to wash and rest. Have Miaotong greet them and explain our household rules."

At these words, a young maid stepped out from behind and bowed: "Ladies, please follow me."

Zhou Miaoxuan, indecisive by nature, was utterly lost—her eyes darted helplessly toward Ding Baiying by the door.

Ding Baiying, however, was straightforward. She couldn't fight him, couldn't escape, and along the way, the pain of losing her beloved master had eased somewhat—her desire to die had dimmed. She snorted coldly, stood up, and said: "Fine, let's go. What other choice do we have?"

Zhou Miaoxuan, tearfully pitiful, followed them to the back compound. She'd been too distracted earlier to notice "Miaotong"—Wang Yan didn't know whether the two women were related. But whether they were or not, they were sisters now—no big deal.

With the two women gone, only Pei Lun remained in the main hall facing Wang Yan.

He understood the situation clearly—he had no power to resist, so pointless struggle was useless. Moreover, from Wang Yan's demeanor, it was obvious he held no ill will toward them… well, no ill will toward him, at least. He had no fondness for men.

As for the two women, he thought they'd fare well with Wang Yan. After all, he knew their circumstances. Left to fend for themselves, they'd either be captured again, married off to some dull man to raise children, or become nuns.

Compared to that, becoming part of a powerful general who held great weight was a better option. Besides, beyond a brief period of fighting side by side, they had no real bond—he had no reason to sacrifice himself for them.

And the bodyguards standing at the door felt far more dangerous than the elite troops who'd brought them here. He had no doubt that if he so much as moved, he'd be dead before he hit the floor. After all, he wasn't a woman—he couldn't become Wang Yan's wife. Naturally, those who failed to show proper respect had no place here.

He immediately bowed respectfully: "My lord, how do you intend to assign me?"

"I admire men like you—wise enough to recognize reality." Wang Yan nodded approvingly: "First, rest and heal your wounds. We'll discuss your assignment later. In the meantime, feel free to wander freely around Jinzhou—look for any problems we might have missed. Of course, if you wish to leave, I won't stop you."

"Thank you, my lord."

Wang Yan nodded and ordered: "Wang Ming, find him a place to stay in the city."

"Yes, my lord." Wang Ming entered from outside: "Please follow me."

Pei Lun bowed to Wang Yan: "Pei Lun takes his leave."

"Go."

Wang Yan truly thought Pei Lun was decent—he had ability, and it was unfortunate that such a man who just wanted to drift through life had been dragged into this mess. He might as well save him.

But it wasn't deliberate kindness—he didn't lack capable men under him. Men like Pei Lun were plentiful. One more wouldn't add much; one less wouldn't hurt.

What he lacked were skilled specialists—master craftsmen, physicians, healers, scholars who didn't just memorize books.

He hadn't brought Shen Lian here for this reason. Aside from being decent in combat, he was useless. Poor judgment, poor leadership, poor execution, and stubbornly overconfident—he was utterly unfit for any serious role. Even as a common soldier, he'd be more trouble than he was worth, likely to mess things up.

As for Shen Lian's fate in the unfolding plot, Wang Yan didn't care at all—even if he died, it wouldn't matter. He didn't know if this world was real or illusory, but here, it was real. There was no such thing as world collapse or cosmic consciousness.

Shen Lian, as the protagonist, meant nothing against the grand tide of the Spring Blade World. Just a tiny ant—his presence or absence made no difference.

Thinking of the Spring Blade World's plot, Wang Yan recalled Jin Yichuan—the doctor's girl Zhang Yan that Ding Xian liked. Honestly, those little front teeth when she grinned—so pure…

The General had no real duties now—occasionally inspecting troop training, tinkering with inventions alongside master craftsmen—that was it. There were no entertainment options in this era. If he didn't study the art of marital intimacy to find some pleasure, what else was left?

Zhou Miaoxuan and Ding Baiying settled into Wang Yan's back compound. On idle days, Zhou Miaotong took them out to stroll, enjoying the frontier scenery unlike Jingcheng or Jiang Nan.

Zhou Miaotong was very content with her current life. Aside from enduring the exhausting attentions of Gu Dasheng, it was exactly the life she'd dreamed of. Every day, she rode her gentle, nearly grown colt with her maids, wandering freely, undisturbed, utterly carefree.

Whenever the artisan households produced something new, she was the first to enjoy it. Perfumes that once cost her a fortune now lined her dressing table in every scent imaginable. Glass mirrors—full-face, half-body, full-length—multiple ones filled her room.

Even the windows of her room were made entirely of transparent glass. Every day, sunlight streamed in, warming her skin, making her reluctant to move.

As for food, though limited by the environment and fewer than in Jingcheng, the variety was unchanged. Candied fruits, white sugar, sweets, dried fruits—all were available. Occasionally, her husband would invent two new kinds of pastries she'd never heard of—delicious beyond words.

These past few months were the happiest of her life since childhood. Even happier than her hazy childhood memories. After these months, she'd even gained some weight…

The only flaw? Gu Dasheng was too relentless—she simply couldn't keep up. Everything else was perfect.

When she first heard from the maids that two new women had arrived, she was delighted—finally, someone to share the burden. But when she saw them and heard Zhou Miaoxuan's name, after asking a few questions, the long-lost sisters recognized each other.

Wang Yan knew the situation and was pleased with Zhou Miaotong. The girl had helped persuade Zhou Miaoxuan, insisting they become even closer kin. Combined with Zhou Miaoxuan's own despair, her lack of alternatives, and the comfort she'd found here—plus her sister's firsthand testimony—she eventually gave in.

Unlike Zhou Miaoxuan, despite enjoying a life of luxury she'd never known and having no other pressures, Ding Baiying refused to yield—she was determined to remain faithful to her dead master.

With that resolve, she settled in comfortably… Wang Yan never forced her. As long as she didn't run, no one interfered with her—she was perfectly content.

Thus passed over a month, until October, when heavy snow once again blanketed the land in deep winter.

Huang Taiji, that old bastard, had indeed learned from Wang Yan—he sent small elite cavalry units to sabotage. Before, this region had only soldiers—Huang Taiji had no chance to retaliate. But now that Wang Yan had relocated many households here, Huang Taiji finally had an opportunity to vent his rage.

Wang Yan had prepared for this. There would be losses, but they'd be minimal. Meanwhile, his flintlock production had surged, and patrol and guard units were issued them immediately. After all, their combat effectiveness was pitiful—they couldn't stand against Later Jin cavalry.

Though Wang Yan claimed thousands of enemy heads in battle, few were cavalry. His victory at Zhaoli Mountain came only from the surprise advantage of explosives. Otherwise, three thousand against three thousand—given the quality of his troops—he'd have had no chance of winning, even if a thousand had combat experience. It was a matter of overall quality.

Besides, the Later Jin cavalry weren't a single unit—they weren't as easy to fight as imagined. They had both light and heavy cavalry, organized as combined arms units, and when they charged, they were unstoppable.

But here, it didn't work. Wang Yan's equipment had upgraded—he no longer had to close in for hand-to-hand combat like last year. His flintlocks were no longer mere firesticks; their range, reloading speed, and power had all leapt forward.

Though they still fired small steel balls, with these improvements, even heavy cavalry armor might withstand the impact—but the sheer force was no joke. Even the elite Later Jin cavalry, when faced with his worst reserve soldiers armed with flintlocks, were slaughtered before they could close the distance. They never reached the front lines.

Huang Taiji was still secretly tinkering with firearms and cannons behind the scenes—he'd have a hundred years and it'd be useless.

There's a saying: "If you don't return a favor, you're impolite." Even though Wang Yan came first, he still owed a gift. The top three thousand-man units stationed at Panshan were now well-trained—they were ready for the baptism of war. So Wang Yan ordered a rotation: move the Panshan troops to Jinzhou, and rotate the bulk of Jinzhou's forces—with the troops near Yixian, fifty li ahead.

That day, in the back compound, Zhou Miaotong and Zhou Miaoxuan helped Wang Yan don his armor. Ding Baiying, clad in a leather coat and wielding her blade, said: "I'm coming with you."

Wang Yan shook his head: "No. It's freezing, snow's falling heavily—you're a woman, what are you doing out there? Stay home. No need to suffer."

Ding Baiying's sword wounds were minor—she'd fully recovered by now. As soon as she healed, she'd grabbed her blade and challenged Wang Yan again—she wanted to kill him.

The result, needless to say, was predictable. Even her blade-sensing technique—closing her eyes to sense the broken blade—meant nothing before Wang Yan. Not only was his specially forged blade a divine weapon, but her martial skill was utterly inadequate. Before she could react, the blade was already at her throat.

The sparring ended without a single scratch on Wang Yan—though he did get quite a bit of groping in.

Ever since then, this woman, aside from occasionally going out with Miaotong and Miaoxuan to play in the snow and admire the snowy scenery, devoted herself mercilessly to martial training, determined to kill Wang Yan.

Wang Yan didn't care; it was just a habit, and once a habit settles in, you unconsciously accept it. Their relationship gradually drew closer, and it seemed the moment when things would naturally come to fruition was not far off.

Although Wang Mou's appearance was ordinary, his soul was truly scorching hot—he had always been a man who captivated others. Not to mention his current identity as a blood-soaked general defending the nation's borders; while this might be slightly less impressive to Zhou Miaoxuan, who was half-dead, it was devastatingly attractive to Ding Baiying.

Ding Baiying said nothing, merely fixed her gaze on Wang Yan.

Seeing this, Wang Yan shook his head and said, "Fine, if you want to go, go. Have someone find you proper armor and wear something thick underneath."

This woman had too firm a will; Wang Yan forbidding her was for her own good. In this freezing weather, even if a woman had the strongest physique, she'd still easily fall ill… but since she insisted on going, then let her go—she was the one bringing suffering upon herself, so Wang Mou couldn't be blamed for lacking compassion.

After a while, Ding Baiying appeared before Wang Yan in full military attire, making his eyes brighten.

Seeing Wang Yan staring at her, Ding Baiying rolled her eyes: "Are we leaving or not?"

"Haha… of course we're leaving." Wang Yan smiled. He'd been with many women, but none had Ding Baiying's martial elegance: "You've got your rifle and explosives packed?"

Ding Baiying turned, revealing the rifle and crossbow hanging from her lower back, letting Wang Yan take a look.

"Good, as long as you've got everything." Wang Yan turned away, and despite Ding Baiying's disgusted look, he patted the cheeks of Miaotong and Miaoxuan: "We're off—wait for me to return."

Miaoxuan, Miaotong, and the group of maids attending them bowed in unison: "We wish our lord a triumphant return…"

This wicked world… he truly was comfortable…

Wang Yan laughed heartily and walked away without a backward glance.

Cold blades and spears, unquenchable hot blood, beautiful women, fiery liquor, and the ambition to embrace all rivers and encompass the four seas—that is the true nature of a man of war.

With Ding Baiying, he mounted his warhorse and rode with Wang Ming and the other bodyguards to the northern city gate, where two thousand cavalry waited silently; apart from the occasional snort from the horses, only dense clouds of breath rising into the air proved these men were alive.

Wang Yan didn't bother with any useless pre-deployment speeches—he had already proven himself to his soldiers. The dead and wounded received full compensation and benefits, meticulously detailed in the soldier's manual by rank. For those alive, it was simple: four words—promotion and wealth.

This year, compared to last, equipment had been upgraded, and thanks to wool products, insulation was vastly improved. Headgear covering ears and face, gloves with separate fingers, woolen cloaks, padded inner jackets, thick cotton pants, leather boots lined with fur—all were fully equipped.

But this was no time four hundred years later with global warming or greenhouse effects; it was the Little Ice Age, and no matter how well protected, one would still freeze.

Satisfied with the soldiers before him, Wang Yan waved his hand and roared: "Northward—kill the barbarians!" Then he led Ding Baiying, Wang Ming, and others off in a shout.

Behind them, the soldiers shouted three times in tense excitement, then a dense, earth-shaking thunder of hooves erupted as they galloped northward, howling like wolves.

This time, Wang Yan's northern campaign had three objectives.

First, naturally, to train troops, then to deploy a portion of the elite as officers.

Second, to normally strike at Hong Taiji's rear, increase logistical pressure, prevent his rise, and capture more Han civilians to bring home. It was also to present a gift to Zhu Youjian, newly ascended as Emperor of Great Ming—after all, he was the Emperor; a little respect was due.

This also allowed him to collude with a group of traitorous merchants: he struck hard, they sold fiercely, and everyone profited. Though both sides had patrons behind them, these merchants could no longer ignore Wang Yan.

Wang Yan's ability to fight and his dominance was one reason; another was that he guarded the very frontline of Great Ming's border—anyone wishing to ship goods north had to pass through his territory, pay taxes, and pay fully.

It wasn't that there was only one route; sea routes and Mongol territories were alternatives. But this was the most convenient and safest path. Wang Yan was highly trustworthy: pay the money, and you could establish warehouses within Jinzhou City to store goods, then ship directly to Shengjing—guaranteed safety along the entire route.

But if you refused to pay… the patrol squads now doubled as anti-smuggling units; anyone caught was immediately seized—goods confiscated, people detained—and only a large ransom could secure their release. If you dared to challenge Wang Yan, stir up trouble, or incite sabotage—let's put it this way: you wouldn't even make it out of Shanhai Pass… Liaodong was simply too united.

Third, to conquer several nearby Mongol tribes.

This was General Wang's strategic intent: to trap Hong Taiji in Northeast China, forcing him to flee north toward Russia.

If Hong Taiji didn't flee, in a few more years he wouldn't be able to escape at all. Once his forces were sufficient, Wang Yan would dispatch warships to land on the shores of the Sea of Okhotsk, seize the Outer Xing'an Mountains, directly blockade the Daxing'anling, and attack the habitable regions of Eastern Siberia. There lay vast, easily accessible resources—coal, timber, and more—far superior to digging up his own land.

When that time came, Hong Taiji could only pray his invincible cavalry could sail the seas—otherwise, they'd all become laborers.

Previously, when he purchased wool, he had already established ties with some tribes; now he sought to clarify their subordination. The crucial matter of sheep eating people—if they obeyed, they wouldn't be eaten; if they disobeyed, they'd be devoured entirely, joining Hong Taiji in the grave.

This time, forces were split into two groups: one led by Wang Yan himself, the other by his subordinate.

The other group would strike deep into the rear, harassing Later Jin troops. Wang Yan's orders were to primarily burn villages, kill militia, and keep Later Jin forces pinned down, avoiding direct confrontation. At the same time, without impeding the movements of the three forces, rescue as many Han civilians as possible.

Wang Yan himself led his troops straight toward the old target: Guangning Houtunwei.

Now they employed two- or three-rank volley fire; as long as ammunition held, a thousand could easily break three thousand. Coupled with Wang Yan's abundant Mobile Corps Commander experience, within days he had razed every nearby village. As for Later Jin soldiers, after cutting off over two thousand heads, Wang Yan ceased further action.

Wool couldn't be plucked from one sheep alone—he wasn't in a hurry. He'd wait, let the banner lords reinforce their troops, then return. Two thousand heads were enough to impress Zhu Youjian; too many would raise expectations too high.

Tying up severed heads and leading a large herd of captured warhorses, Wang Yan and his men surged toward the grasslands…

In Jingcheng, the newly ascended Zhu Youjian stared at the crumbling Great Ming Empire, burning with such fervor that he longed to immediately enact the ambitions long held in his heart—first this, then that, then that again—until finally, the sun and moon, mountains and rivers remained, the Great Ming Empire still blazed with radiant sun, dominating all nations.

But that damned Wei Zhongxian was an eyesore, a chain draped over the head of the Great Ming Emperor, preventing him from acting freely. Before his ascension, he hadn't felt it much; now that he sat on the throne, he saw the entire court, inside and out, dominated by eunuch factions—it enraged him. He was furious at Wei Zhongxian, but even more furious at his dead brother. The man was utterly incompetent; he had ruined a glorious Great Ming, spending his days carving wood and indulging in male favorites—he should have been executed long ago.

He was holding back a breath, determined to revive the Great Ming once more. He couldn't match the Hongwu Emperor, but he could at least surpass the Yongle Emperor.

After months of observation since his ascension and extensive study with the Donglin Party,

finally, by the end of October, he had fully understood Wei Zhongxian. After a series of trials, he exiled him to Fengyang to guard the imperial tombs.

But thinking of the rumored millions of taels of silver owned by Wei Zhongxian—and the fact that even as he left, the old bastard had private soldiers escorting him? This was an insult to Zhu Youjian.

Immediately, Zhu Youjian summoned Wei Zhongxian's adopted son, Zhao Jingzhong, the newly appointed Provincial Military Commander of the Eastern Factory, ordering him to send men to kill Wei Zhongxian—and, most importantly, to find those silver taels…