Chapter 403: Leader of the Tongtian Society, Mu Rong Su Xue

Early April.

Outside Bo Han City.

Huangtu swirled in the sky, yet the central army's great tent of the Tongtian Society felt suffocatingly oppressive.

The tent curtains fluttered with a rustling sound in the wind; Mu Rong Su Xue suddenly knocked the Blue Porcelain Teacup off the table, and the splintered porcelain sprayed residual tea that dampened the hem of her crimson gold‑threaded robe.

At around forty years of age, fine lines at the corners of her eyes were made even sharper by the gold‑inked dark makeup.

Her black hair was high‑tied into a Uyghur knot, a turquoise jade hairpin slanted in place, trembling slightly with her angry expression: "What on earth are you doing!"

"We've been besieging for so long, yet we still haven't taken Bo Han City!"

Mu Rong Su Xue's voice, though not loud, was like ice‑tempered spikes, chilling the spines of the three men inside the tent.

The three who bowed their heads under the tent were all robust men in their thirties.

At the left, Feng Lingxu's face was covered with a long moustache, his armor still stained with black mud from the city's base, and upon hearing the words he tightened his grip on the ring‑hilted sword at his waist.

In the middle, the lanky Tang Zizhan, the tent's strategist, now had cold sweat streaming from his temples down his sideburns, soaking the linen short jacket beneath.

At the far right, Han Bingzhu had just rushed in from the east gate watch; the iron plates on his armor still radiated the heat of the sun. He glanced sideways at the siege map hanging on the tent wall—

On the map, the Black Banner representing our side had densely surrounded Bo Han City for a long time, yet the encircling vermilion walls remained utterly unmoved.

Feng Lingxu snapped his head up, his face flushed bright red beneath the moustache, but he dared not meet Mu Rong Su Xue's ice‑cold gaze; he quickly glanced at her furrowed brows before hurriedly lowering his head again.

His grip on the ring‑hilted sword loosened, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice trembling slightly: "Leader, Liu and Yang have gathered the overwhelming majority of Hezhou's troops into Bo Han, the city's provisions are abundant, the walls are exceptionally sturdy, and with steadfast defense and no battle, it can be called as solid as a golden cauldron!"

Then his Adam's apple moved again, and he forced himself to continue: "It truly isn't that I, Shuyi, am not diligent!"

As he reached the last few words, his voice grew even lower, his head drooped heavier, and his shoulders sagged slightly.

Feng Lingxu truly had the will but lacked the strength!

Bo Han City, both the administrative seat of Hezhou and a military stronghold, had walls two feet thicker than ordinary prefectural walls, with iron molten poured into every brick joint; siege ladders and battering rams striking it only splashed a few sparks.

The city's provisions were more than sufficient.

A few days earlier they captured an escaped laborer, who claimed the government's grain stores could sustain for over half a year.

The city's defenders, Liu Zhuang and Yang Langhui, were truly hard‑hearted; no matter how much they shouted from below, they kept the city sealed, only occasionally launching a few cold arrows…

Tang Zizhan nodded repeatedly, cold sweat from his temples streaming down his cheeks, forming droplets at his chin that fell onto his linen short jacket; he stepped half a pace forward, his face grim, and agreed, "Indeed!"

He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his face, his voice thick with helplessness: "Bo Han City now is as hard as an iron turtle shell, utterly impossible to gnaw through!"

He said so, letting out a heavy sigh, his brows knotted, his entire face etched with the bitter helplessness of being at a loss.

They had already exhausted every siege method—cutting off water, earth‑mound assaults, tunnel attacks, heavy siege engines, fire‑countermeasures, secondary tunnels and collapses, psychological warfare and persuasion to surrender, propaganda attacks on morale…

All to no avail, and Liu and Yang even broke through!

Moreover, the initial opportunity that arose when the sudden attack first occurred is now gone…

Mu Rong Su Xue's complexion darkened instantly like storm clouds before a downpour, and the turquoise jade hairpin that had been trembling stopped abruptly.

She slammed the table hard, causing the copper lantern on it to clatter wildly.

"I refuse to hear your excuses!" she shouted, her voice suddenly rising, laced with bone‑chilling cold.

She paused, then raised her hand to point at the silhouette of Bo Han City beyond the tent, her tone decisive: "You have five more days; you must capture Bo Han City before the Tuyu Hun army arrives!"

The Tongtian Society could obtain Tuyu Hun's aid and troops…

This is because an agreement was reached with Xia Hou Fu Yun, whereby all gold, silver, money, and provisions would belong entirely to Tuyu Hun!

But Mu Rong Su Xue had no intention of fulfilling it; she must first seize it to strengthen the Tongtian Society's power, leaving Tuyu Hun only a token portion as a façade.

"Understood!"

The three exchanged heavy glances, each seeing unmistakable anxiety on the others' faces, yet understanding there was no room for further excuse; finally, steeling themselves, they answered in unison.

At that moment, the tent curtain was ripped open with a whoosh.

A gust of wind swept in, carrying yellow sand.

The newcomer wore a sleek Xuanse Jinshen, hair bound and a crown atop, dressed as a man yet unable to hide the bright brilliance in his brows and eyes.

It was Mu Rong Su Xue's twenty‑year‑old daughter, Mu Rong Ying.

A thin sheen of sweat dotted her temples, her side‑tangled hair fluttered by the wind, clearly having rushed here at speed.

"Mother, something terrible has happened!" Mu Rong Ying blurted before even finishing, sprinting into the tent, her usual composure vanished, her face flushed with urgency.

Mu Rong Su Xue, seeing her daughter's loss of composure, furrowed her brows tighter, the earlier fury dimming slightly, and asked in a deep voice, "What's wrong?"

Mu Rong Ying's chest heaved violently, both hands braced on her knees as she gasped, her face as white as the sand outside the tent, her voice trembling: "Auspicious Time Pass… has been taken by Chen Yan…!"

She jerked her head up, eyes reddening, her gaze filled with unmistakable panic: "All seven thousand of our troops we sent were annihilated!"

"What?!"

Mu Rong Su Xue seemed drenched in a bucket of ice water over her head; her angry expression froze, pupils contracting sharply, she stared at Mu Rong Ying in disbelief: "How could this be?!"

She then staggered back a half step, one hand gripping the table to steady herself, her voice full of alarm and doubt: "Auspicious Time Pass is the most defensible spot in Hezhou!"

"Even without ambushes, if Chen Yan were to attack, it would still take a month or two!"

Mu Rong Su Xue clutched the siege map on the table so tightly that her knuckles whitened, her gaze filled with incredulous bewilderment.

That is Auspicious Time Pass!

Its difficulty to assault is the greatest in Hezhou…

"Auspicious Time Pass… fell?!"

"And the entire army was wiped out?!"

Tang Zizhan seemed struck by a bolt of lightning, his whole body jolting; the forehead he had just wiped clean of cold sweat instantly exuded another fine layer of cold sweat.

He opened his mouth but could not utter a sound, only feeling his heart pounding "thump‑thump" wildly.

It felt as if his chest would burst, a chill racing from his soles to the top of his head, his scalp tingling.

Instinctively he stepped back half a pace, his knees weakening; had he not grabbed Feng Lingxu beside him in time, he would have collapsed.

To achieve such terrifying results at that speed, Chen Yan must be incredibly formidable!

"How on earth did Chen Yan do it?!" Han Bingzhu's heart was also roiled by a raging storm.

One should know that Auspicious Time Pass, perched amid spectacular mountains and rivers, is far more perilous than Baohan City…

It could be said that a single man guards the pass, and ten thousand cannot break through!

They fought Baohan for so long, and now, just a short while later, Auspicious Time Pass is gone?

Murong Ying nodded vigorously, her voice broken by rapid breaths yet carrying undeniable certainty: "This matter is absolutely true!"

She stepped forward two paces, eyes burning, and added: "Our scouts at Auspicious Time Pass saw with their own eyes Chen Yan leading his troops, coming with the aura of a great victory!"

"Probably within two days, they'll arrive…"

Even without seeing it herself, Murong Ying could feel the grandeur of that military might just from the subtext of the scouts' report…

Murong Su Xue's reason snapped like a broken string; she slammed a fist onto the desk, a muffled "bang" echoing, eyes wide with bloodshot veins, her voice hoarse and distorted by extreme anger and panic: "What on earth are Shen Zhi Yan and Ming Shuo doing!"

She was like an enraged lioness, staggering two steps inside the tent, then abruptly turning and roaring: "Even if they were seven thousand pigs, left there defenseless for Chen Yan to seize, they couldn't be captured this quickly!"

Murong Su Xue didn't understand, she couldn't comprehend at all…

Auspicious Time Pass was clearly a barrier they themselves erected; how could it be breached so effortlessly?

And those were seven thousand people, not seven thousand pigs!

"Could it be that Chen Yan has divine assistance?!"

Feng Lingxu's drooping head paused briefly, his brows under his long whiskers twisted into a knot; he furtively glanced at the raging Murong Su Xue inside the tent, then quickly lowered his head again.

Yet a strange thought rose in his mind, like a thorn lodged in him that wouldn't go away.

Only this could plausibly explain it…

Tang Zizhan's lips trembled, his complexion paler than paper, and his voice quivered like a withered leaf in autumn wind: "M‑Master, what should we… do next…?!"

His eyes were filled with panic and helplessness.

After all, the psychological trauma had been inflicted back in Qinzhou…

Now it has intensified!

Murong Su Xue's heavy breathing gradually steadied; her bloodshot eyes swept over Tang Zizhan's cowering figure and the other two, the fury in her gaze replaced by a cold, fierce hue as she scolded: "Look at your pitiful ambition!"

She paused briefly, then continued: "A mere young child scared you that much?!"

Murong Ying stepped forward, gently grasped her mother's sleeve; though still urgent, her tone gained composure: "Mother, Chen Yan's tactics are indeed formidable; we must not be careless!"

She lifted her gaze to meet Murong Su Xue's, speaking rapidly yet clearly: "We must make preparations early!"

Chen Yan's military strategies are top‑tier in the world; they have already suffered a huge loss and can no longer underestimate him…

"Heh!"

All the panic in Murong Su Xue's eyes had vanished, leaving only cold ruthlessness; a snort escaped her nostrils.

She then turned, her gaze sweeping the tent's occupants, a confident smirk curling her mouth: "I have a brilliant scheme that will utterly annihilate Chen Yan in Hezhou!"

"Could the Master be mentally unstable?"

"What nonsense is this?"

Feng Lingxu, Tang Zizhan, and Han Bingzhu all stared in stunned silence, exchanging glances—"you look at me, I look at you"—their eyes filled with incredulous bewilderment as they silently pondered.

Murong Su Xue took in the three's doubts, a contemptuous smile curling her lips; she lifted her hand and flicked the crimson woven‑gold skirt sleeve, her tone regaining its former authority: "Send the order to lift the siege on Baohan!"

"All troops retreat to Fenglin City!"