Chapter 426: The Grain Store Burns, Consumed in One Blaze

A soldier curled beneath the rampart opening, having just dodged a burning broken log, looked up just in time to see several scarlet streaks flash over his head, soaring straight into the city; startled, he forgot to duck and opened his mouth wide.

"No, how can the range be that far?!" he roared, his voice full of incredulous shock, "It can actually fly right over our city walls?!"

Zhai Panmi stared intently at the scarlet streaks crossing the city walls; his murky eyes suddenly widened, his earlier anger replaced by a sudden alertness.

He noticed each blaze seemed pulled by an invisible thread, falling precisely toward the direction where blue light had burst inside the city.

"No!"

Zhai Panmi's shout rose sharply, "Those burning things are all heading toward the bright light!"

Zhao Xu, hearing that, froze in sudden shock, his brows knit as he rapidly scanned the city's layout in his mind, muttering subconsciously, "If I recall correctly, that place seems to be …"

Before he finished, his gaze met simultaneously with those of Qi Fu Chuzhuang and Zhai Panmi.

The color drained from the three faces in an instant, and almost in unison they shouted, "Grain store?!"

The moment the words left their mouths, a chill surged from their soles up to their heads.

Their limbs went cold instantly, cold sweat streaming wildly down their temples and backs.

They stared at each other, shock, anger and terror mingling in their eyes…

"Quick!"

Qi Fu Chuzhuang was the first to regain his senses, his roar cutting through the clamor atop the city walls, the veins on his neck bulging with effort, "Send people for rescue quickly!"

The grain store is the foundation of their defense.

If any mishap occurs, the city truly cannot be held…

How vile the Zhou Army's scheming!

Fusi City.

Outside the grain store.

The shadows of several old poplar trees stretched long under the moonlight.

Two guard soldiers leaned askew against the cold wooden fence, their Chang Qiang casually propped, the dust clinging to the Spear Tip left untouched.

"Why isn't it time for the shift yet!" one round‑faced soldier yawned widely, rubbed his sore waist, his tone full of lazy complaint, "Guarding the grain store at night is so boring, there's not even a ripple of activity."

He turned his head toward his companion, a hint of longing in his eyes: "I'd love to have a little wine, just to feel happy…."

The skinny‑faced soldier beside him nudged the fence again, too lazy to lift his eyelids, replying casually, "Hold on, there's only one shift left…"

The words still hung in the wind when a corner of his eye caught several red streaks slicing the night sky; instinctively he raised his hand toward the heavens, his previously lazy voice snapping, his back straightening in alarm, "Hey! Look up there—what's that?"

The round‑faced soldier was startled by his sudden roar, the half‑yawn he'd just started forced back, and he pushed him dissatisfied, "Why the sudden scare?"

Muttering a retort, he still lifted his gaze in the direction his companion pointed.

He saw several scarlet streaks dragging long fiery tails, like a runaway fire dragon, plunging straight toward the grain store.

The scorching light drew nearer, the very air seeming to heat up.

The round‑faced soldier's eyes bulged, his voice trembling with terror, "What is that thing?!"

Before he finished speaking, those scarlet "meteors" whooshed down with a sharp hiss, their dense trails forming a scorching rain of fire, hammering the grain store's wooden roof and drying yard.

Boom— Boom—

Repeated explosions made the ground tremble slightly, burning oil splashed out, instantly igniting the grain store's dry‑grass roof and piled wheat straw.

Orange‑red flames surged several meters high, spreading like a wall of fire, quickly engulfing the three grain stores.

Amid the flames, the wooden granaries crackled clearly, the barley igniting as soon as the fire touched it.

Thick black smoke shot straight into the sky, intertwining with the night's red light, turning the whole grain‑store area into a sea of fire.

The scorching heat wave slammed into them, even the distant poplar leaves curled from the heat…

The air instantly filled with the burnt‑grain stench.

When the fire wave hit, the guard soldiers were terrified, unable to even pick up their spears, turning and sprinting away.

Burning wood chips and sparks chased them from behind, scorching their backs, forcing them to roll and crawl while dodging.

"My god!"

The round‑faced soldier behind, choking on thick smoke, coughed, glanced back to see the whole grain store crackling in the firelight, his voice full of horror and bewilderment, "Is this divine punishment?!"

Just a few steps out, the leading skinny soldier slammed on the brakes, thick smoke making tears stream, but he suddenly realized something and snarled back, "Stop pulling these useless things…."

"Quick, put out the fire!"

"Otherwise our lives won't be safe…."

As soon as he finished speaking, he grabbed a bucket by the road and rushed toward the sea of flames.

The other soldiers who just arrived also snapped out of their daze, ignoring lingering fear, each seized a nearby water ladle or wooden bucket, hurrying toward the burning grain store, oblivious to sparks splattering them.

The round‑faced soldier remained slumped on the ground, watching his comrades charge into the fire with buckets, yet he could not move his feet.

Flames had already licked the grain store's wooden beams; with a crisp "Crack!" a burning beam crashed down, scattering countless sparks.

"It's over!" he muttered, eyes on the sea of fire that seemed about to burn through the night sky, his lips trembling.

Each explosion rattled his chest, and charred grain fragments fell like black snow.

He brushed ash from his face, his gaze hollow: "Even if we put out the fire, we probably can't even carry anything away!"

Fusi City.

The palace interior was brightly lit, with silk‑and‑bamboo music intertwining with melodious singing.

A few performers in flamboyant costumes were staging the tale of Grassland heroes in the hall; their water sleeves fluttered, and their singing rose soaring like an eagle's cry, then fell gentle as a stream.

Xiahou Fuyun reclined on a throne draped with beast hide, twirling a Jade Ring in his hand, his gaze following the performers' movements, his face full of rapture.

When the performers reached the climax, their lingering high notes ringing clear, he slapped the armrest and declared loudly, "That part was sung well!"

Having said that, he turned to the attendant beside him and ordered, "Reward! Grant each of these actors a bolt of silk and ten taels of silver!"

Xiahou Da sat upright at the side seat, his fingertips absentmindedly picking at the jade pendant at his waist, while the palace's melodious silk‑and‑bamboo music sounded oddly harsh to him.

He glanced up at Xiahou Fuyun several times, seeing him still absorbed in the performance, and his brows tightened further.

Finally, Xiahou Da could no longer hold back, rose, bowed and stood in the hall, his voice tinged with urgency: "Father Khan, shall I go patrol the city walls to boost morale?"

He is not as big‑hearted as his own Father Khan......

Xiahou Fuyin didn't even raise his eyelids; his gaze remained fixed on the stage actor's water sleeves. Hearing Xiahou Da's suggestion, he casually waved his hand: "General Qi Fu Chuzhuang, General Zhai Panmi, and several other generals are handling the defenses; no need for that!"

The play happened to pause, and he turned his head toward the bowing Xiahou Da, his brows slightly furrowed: "Da'er, in times of great affairs one must be calm... If you can't keep your composure now, how will you handle responsibilities later? Sit down and listen to the play properly."

Xiahou Da's urgent expression froze, he inhaled deeply, swallowed the words that had reached his lips, forced himself, bowed his head and replied: "Father Khan is absolutely right!"

"Just watch the play calmly!"

Xiahou Fuyin redirected his gaze to the stage; the performer was readjusting his robes, preparing to begin the next verse, saying: "This brilliant part must be savored....."

Just as the strings and bamboo music rose inside the hall, the doors were slammed open with a "clang—", interrupting the performer's opening melody.

Shi Zhen once again barreled in, rolling and crawling, his robe hem dust‑covered, his complexion drained of blood, leaving only an unmistakable terror.

He staggered into the hall, even forgetting to kneel, his voice trembling like a sieve: "Great Khan… Great Khan, something's wrong!"

Xiahou Fuyin's relaxed expression froze, he slammed his hand on the armrest, and shouted angrily: "What now!"

Shi Zhen, frightened by the angry shout, shivered, his throat rattling, his voice trembling even more: "Zhou… Zhou Army…"

"Could it be that the Zhou Army has broken in!" Xiahou Fuyin sprang to his feet, the beast‑skin throne sliding backward, his eyes wide, he cut Shi Zhen off in a harsh voice, his tone full of impatience and fury.

The Tuyuhun Khan was quite confident about Fusi City's defenses.....

When it was rebuilt, a great deal of manpower and resources were poured into it!

"That's not the case!"

Shi Zhen quickly shook his head, gesturing frantically: "The Zhou Army is still outside the city....."

Xiahou Fuyin's tense body relaxed slightly, yet his displeasure grew, his brows knit into a knot, his voice even hotter: "Since they're not here, why are you so panicked!"

Cold sweat soaked Shi Zhen's back instantly, his robe clinging tightly, his legs weakening almost to the point of collapsing, his voice filled with desperate fear: "Great Khan, the Zhou Army hasn't broken in....."

"But the Zhou Army burned the granaries inside the city!"

He gasped heavily, each word sounding as if he'd exhausted himself: "Flames shooting to the heavens… all three granaries gone… not a single grain left……"

He was cut off mid‑sentence, choked by overwhelming terror.

Xiahou Fuyin's angry expression froze, then his color drained, leaving only utter shock.

He staggered forward half a step, his voice pitching with disbelief: "What?!"

"What did you say?!"

Then he seized Shi Zhen's collar, his eyes bulging like copper bells, roaring harshly: "Say it again!"

Shi Zhen, choked almost to the point of suffocation, his face ashen, repeated: "The Zhou Army burned the granaries inside the city!"

Xiahou Da clenched his fists, his eyes filled with incomprehensible horror, shouting hoarsely: "How could this be possible?!"

"Could it be that the Zhou Army uses some kind of sorcery?!"

"But the granaries are in the city center!?"

Shi Zhen's ashen face nodded repeatedly, his voice trembling with fear and haste: "Absolutely certain!"

He paused, swallowed with difficulty, and added: "It was the Zhou Army's catapult, which launched some strange, burning contraptions....."

Xiahou Fuyin's hand suddenly released, and Shi Zhen collapsed onto the ground with a "thud".

He staggered back two steps, his back slamming hard against the throne's armrest, his shock turning to panic, his prior composure completely gone.

He raised a hand to his forehead, his gaze drifting toward the hall's exterior, his lips trembling as he muttered: "What… what should we do now?!"

Outside Fusi City.

Beyond the central army's main tent, Chen Yan leaned casually on a folding chair set on a brocade cushion, idly turning a silver wine cup in his hand, amber liquid gently swirling inside.

He lifted his gaze toward the distant direction of Fusi City.

The towering flames painted the night sky a deep red, thick smoke billowed upward, and a faint charred scent drifted through the air.

"What a pleasing sight, the fire‑engulfed Fusi!" Chen Yan took a light sip, a smile curling his lips, his eyes full of contentment and leisure, then turned to Yuwen Ze beside him and said.

"Hahaha!"

Yuwen Ze heard this, exchanged a smile, turned his head and loudly ordered: "Send envoys in three days to persuade Xiahou Fuyin to surrender!"

——

PS: Time‑Travel Mini‑Class on How to Improve a Catapult.

1. Strengthen the power source: the key is to raise the energy‑storage limit. Replace a single wooden beam with multiple composite beams or use tougher elastic material, increase the counterweight mass or employ lever principles to amplify the counterweight torque, making the impact when the power is released stronger.

2. Optimize the lever structure: lengthen the catapult arm, especially the throwing end's lever arm, to achieve higher linear speed under the same power; use lightweight yet high‑strength materials (such as premium hardwood or composites) for the arm, reducing energy lost to self‑weight.

3. Improve the launch mechanism: design a more stable launch base (e. g., add counterweights, embed deep ground anchors) to prevent the carriage from shaking and losing energy during firing; employ an adjustable stop device to precisely control the catapult arm's swing angle, ensuring the power is focused at the moment of release.

4. Optimize the projectile and placement: use streamlined projectiles to reduce air resistance; adjust the projectile's position to the catapult arm's tip's optimal power point, ensuring maximal energy transfer to the projectile.

(I have some free time these days, so I'll try to write as much as possible in the evening breeze; sorry to the senior fans who keep waiting for updates… (?? ˇ? ˇ??)… )