Chapter 908: Night cover hides murderous intent; Gao Jiong secretly rolls up gold and leaves

When Songqi led men to touch the back of the royal tent, only the sound of wind remained in the camp. The shouting and killing from the north traveled across several miles of open ground, already muffled into a mass by the time it reached their ears.

The muddy road in the middle of the camp was empty. The cowhide tent flaps were lifted by the wind and slammed back, crackling. Occasionally, one could hear the crying of children muffled in the bedding.

Those who remained were all hiding in the tents. The old people couldn't move their legs, the women hugged their children tightly, and they didn't even dare to light lamps, let alone look toward the royal tent.

Two three-zhang-high flagpoles still stood in front of the tent. The white wolf-head banner was rolled back and forth by the night wind. The flag rope slapped the wooden pole, one sound after another.

The royal tent flap was wide open. It was dark inside, the fire basin had long since extinguished, and the wind drilled in, spun around, and rolled out a few ashes from the burned grass.

Circling around the tent wall on the west side, Songqi raised two fingers, and the ten Mingjing Si scouts behind him immediately held their steps.

They lined up in a single row, each with two daggers hidden at their waists, and the empty hemp bags on their backs rolled into a bundle, firmly bound to their shoulder blades with thin ropes.

"Starting from the left, count twelve steps. There is a square stone slab on the ground."

Songqi squatted down, his palms touching the muddy ground and slowly feeling his way over. His fingertips soon touched a straight stone seam, filled with withered grass.

That stone slab was one finger higher than the ground, its surface smeared with wet mud, and a few broken-handled wooden shovels were piled on it. People who didn't know the location might not even notice if they stepped on it.

Two scouts moved the wooden shovels aside, each gripped a corner of the stone slab, and exerted force with their shoulders at the same time, pushing the heavy stone slab two feet to the side.

Beneath the stone slab was a sloping downward staircase. There were no lamps inside. The smell of dry dirt and old wooden boxes surged out along the entrance, mixed with the fishy smell left by copperware stored for too long.

Songqi took out a fire starter, blew on it twice in the wind, and a point of firelight the size of a soybean lit up at the top of the starter.

He used his palm to shield the sparks and shone downward, confirming there were no tripwires or hidden nails on the stone steps, and then waved his hand toward the back.

The stone cellar was about two zhang square. The three walls were piled full of wooden boxes, the highest ones already reaching the shoulders of an adult. The box lids were only covered with copper buckles and were not locked.

In the corner were piled a few cowhide bags, the mouths of the bags tied tightly with hemp rope, each one bulging round, squeezed between the boxes and the dirt wall.

"Start moving things. Open the wooden boxes first. Two people move one box. Don't delay down there."

Ten people drilled down the stone steps one after another. Songqi stayed at the entrance to keep watch, his daggers held in his palms, his ears always listening to the footsteps on both sides of the royal tent.

When the copper buckles were flipped open, they made a light clinking sound, followed by the muffled sound of the box lids falling on the wooden edges. The breathing of the people below became chaotic for half a beat.

"Seventh Master, the boxes are full of gold ingots. One box weighs at least fifty jin."

Songqi turned his face and cursed toward the pitch-black staircase.

"If you can't walk when you see gold, hurry up and pack the hemp bags. If anyone is still here after half an hour, wait to be buried with Qifugu."

The people below immediately got busy. The wooden boxes were lifted up along the stone steps, the corners of the boxes occasionally hitting the stone walls, and mud debris fell onto the hair and necks of the carriers with a rustling sound.

After the box lids were removed, the gold ingots were stuffed into the hemp bags one by one. The heavy metal hit each other, making a muffled sound so dense that Songqi's cheeks tightened.

One hemp bag was filled to more than half and could no longer be lifted. Two scouts used a wooden stick to pass through the bag mouth, lifted it from front and back, and hurried toward the secret tunnel along the shadows behind the tent.

The second batch of people soon returned, their shoulders already having deep marks from the hemp ropes. No one spoke, just taking the newly packed bags and continuing to move them.

The wooden boxes were emptied one by one, and the bulging cowhide bags were also dragged out of the stone cellar. Songqi cut open one of the bags and checked the contents by the light of the fire starter.

Pearls and jade were mixed together, and several strings of gold beads were pressed underneath. In terms of weight, they were not as good as a whole box of gold ingots, but they were more convenient to carry.

He tightened the bag mouth again, carried it on his back himself, and the cowhide bag hung heavily behind him. When he walked, the pearls and jade inside bumped against each other, leaking a fine sound from under the leather.

In less than a quarter of an hour, twelve of the fifteen hemp bags were filled, and the remaining three were spread on the muddy ground, really unable to spare manpower to move them.

Songqi stood on the stone steps and scanned downward. Nearly half of the wooden boxes against the wall were gone, the remaining ones were still piled in the dark, and there were still a few cowhide bags in the corner that hadn't been touched.

Greed easily costs one's life. This principle was understood by everyone in the Mingjing Si.

"The things are enough. Everyone withdraw from the stone cellar and restore the stone slab to its original position."

The last two people retreated from the staircase. Songqi helped them cover the stone slab back, and piled the withered grass and broken-handled wooden shovels back on it.

The group carried the hemp bags and rushed toward the south. Their soles stepped into the wet mud, and when they pulled them out, they made a slight popping sound.

Songqi stayed at the end of the team. When passing the side of the royal tent, he tilted his head and glanced inside. Beside the extinguished fire basin was still that gilded saddle of Qifugu.

There was no other movement in the tent. The night wind passed through the open door flap, blowing the edges of a few felt blankets to roll lightly.

The secret tunnel entrance was hidden behind the straw mat of the small tent area in the south. Gao Jiong was already guarding beside the pit, with more than thirty subordinates gathered beside him.

Everyone was carrying a knapsack, containing personal items, as well as documents and secret letters that the Mingjing Si couldn't destroy in time but absolutely couldn't fall into the hands of the Rouran people.

When Songqi arrived at the pit, his throat felt dry, and the cowhide bag on his shoulder made half of his body numb, making his speech broken into segments.

"Boss, twelve bags were moved out. Gold ingots are the most, and there are white silver and pearls and jade. The things left in the cellar didn't have time to be moved."

Gao Jiong swept over those hemp bags one by one, and looked at the shoulders of the carriers that had been worn through.

"Twelve bags are enough to report back. Everyone enters the secret tunnel. Those carrying heavy objects walk in the middle, and leave people to receive at the front and back."

The first two people drilled into the dirt pit. The secret tunnel was less than three feet wide, and people couldn't stand straight inside, only able to move forward with their backs arched.

The fifty-jin hemp bag rested on their shoulders, the bag mouth occasionally brushing against the tunnel ceiling. Loose dirt fell into their collars, and sweat washed it into mud paste on their backs.

Personnel entered the secret tunnel one after another. Gao Jiong stayed until the end. After waiting for Songqi to drill in, he stood by the pit and looked north for a while.

Under the distant night sky, a few points of firelight were scattered. Those were the torches lit in the royal court's continuous camp. The shouting and horse neighing traveled with the wind, intermittent.

The four thousand cavalry Qifugu brought had crashed into the royal court's front camp. At this moment, even if they wanted to turn back, they couldn't find a complete path of retreat.

Gao Jiong only stayed for three breaths, then lifted the straw mat and drilled into the secret tunnel, throwing the camp behind him completely into the darkness.

The secret tunnel led from the southern edge of the camp to the low shrubbery, a straight line of less than a hundred steps. However, the team was carrying heavy objects, and it took a full quarter of an hour to reach the exit.

The exit was hidden beside the dry river ditch. The pit entrance was covered with withered branches and broken stones. The wild grass outside was already half a person high, and when the night wind scraped over, it flattened in patches.

The people in front pushed aside the cover and climbed out, first lying on the ditch bottom to check the surroundings. Confirming there were no patrol cavalry, they turned back to receive the hemp bags behind.

When Gao Jiong left the pit entrance, his two boot legs were already filled with mud. He walked a few steps, raised his feet to knock the boot sides, and then turned to count the personnel and property.

All fifty people were present, and the twelve bags of gold, silver, pearls, and jade were not lost. Several carriers sat on the ground rubbing their shoulders, their breathing rapid and dry.

"Seal the pit entrance again, retreat south along the dry river ditch. We must walk out thirty miles before dawn."

The team then pulled into a long line at the bottom of the ditch, with those carrying hemp bags walking in the center, and the rest of the people lined up in front, back, and on both sides, all holding daggers in their hands.

The old silt at the bottom of the ditch had already cracked from the sun. When the boot soles stepped over, they made a fine, crisp sound. Occasionally, when a withered branch was stepped on, people nearby would turn their heads to confirm the movement.

Gao Jiong walked in the middle of the team, never urging those carrying heavy objects, only turning his head to count the torches every once in a while, confirming there were no pursuers behind.

The killing in the direction of the camp got further and further away, and finally even the muffled sound of hooves was covered by the grassland night wind, leaving only the light sound of pearls and jade bumping in the hemp bags on their shoulders.

Songqi caught up from behind and walked side-by-side with Gao Jiong for a while, opening his mouth several times without saying the words.

"Boss, what about Qifugu?"

"Qifugu is no longer our concern."

Songqi licked his dry lips and looked back at the camp that could no longer be seen.

"That is four thousand-plus people. They crashed into Nuhe Ti's twenty thousand-man continuous camp. I'm afraid not even half will return."

Gao Jiong bypassed a protruding stone at the bottom of the ditch, his footsteps never slowing down.

"If they all die there, it is Qifugu's fate coming to an end. If they can kill a path out, that is also a path to survival he earned himself. Regardless of which side the outcome falls on, the errand entrusted by the Pillar of State has been completed."

Songqi didn't continue to pursue the question, just tightened the thin rope on his shoulders and silently followed the team south.

Their footsteps mixed together, walking further and further along the winding dry river ditch, and the fifty figures gradually melted into the night in the south.

Thirty miles away, the royal court's continuous camp was completely chaotic.

When the Qifu tribe vanguard crashed into the trenches outside the camp, the night sky was full of long neighs of injured warhorses, and the sound of blades clashing traveled from the front camp all the way to the central army.

The front-row cavalry rushed over the first layer of shallow ditches, crashed into several deer antlers, and squeezed into the gaps between the tents. Curved sabers slashed at any shadows blocking the way.

In the darkness, they couldn't distinguish between opponents. The blades often only cut the tent ropes, and the cowhide tents collapsed immediately, covering the people and horses that couldn't dodge in time.

The horns of the various camps in the royal court rang out one after another. The order to mobilize troops came from the central army direction, and torches were lit one row after another, cutting the chaotic front camp into many narrow alleys with alternating light and dark.

Iron-armored soldiers surged out from behind the tents. The speed of lining up was abnormally fast. The shield bearers were fully equipped, the spearmen followed behind, and even the horses had their reins untied in advance.

Clearly, they had been waiting for this night raid all night.

Amu Ri led the vanguard's fiercest hundred cavalry and rushed to a position nearly two hundred steps deep into the continuous camp before they couldn't rush anymore. In front were iron cavalry soldiers lined up in three rows, the road behind was blocked, and the two sides were walls of fire formed by overturned tents and burning wooden frames.

"Charge through! No one is allowed to stop!" Amu Ri's voice had already torn in the chaotic battle, the sound like a copper pipe scraped by a knife blade, sharp to the point of piercing the ears.

The vanguard did not slow down. The cavalry lay on the horses' backs, crashing toward the spear tips.

The warhorses' chests and abdomens were pierced by spears, but they still used the momentum to rush forward a few steps. The riders on the horses flipped off the horses' backs and fell under the shield formation, only to be stepped over by the hooves behind.

The warhorse's chest and abdomen were pierced through by a long spear, yet it still relied on its remaining momentum to charge forward a few steps; the rider on its back tumbled down to the foot of the shield formation and was immediately trampled by the following hooves.

Qifugu led five hundred cavalry from the central army and poured into the gap. He held the curved saber in his right hand, his gaze passing over the moving heads, looking for that golden eagle banner.

Soon, he found it.

The golden eagle banner stood in the north-central position of the continuous camp. The copper eagle at the top of the flagpole shone with a dark yellow luster in the light of the campfires, and the wide flag surface rolled in the night wind. Beneath the banner were several layers of thick cowhide tents. The front of the tent was already packed with personal guards. Iron shields pressed the front row, and curved sabers and spears probed from behind.

Nuhe Ti's central army tent was behind that shield formation.

"Follow me closely, head straight for the golden eagle banner. Nuhe Ti is under the banner!"

Qifugu pointed the curved saber forward. The warhorse crossed a fallen corpse, and with the five hundred cavalry behind him, rushed into the narrower passage between the tents.

The deployment map Gao Jiong gave him was clear: between the second quarter of the Hai hour and the fourth quarter of the Hai hour, there were only thirty guards in the northwest corner of the central army tent.

As long as he could tear open that gap before the shift change ended, he would have a chance to rush into the big tent and hack Nuhe Ti off his horse.

The last row of tents swept past his side, and the front suddenly opened up.

The next moment, the fire racks all around were lit at the same time.

That was not the scattered torches in the hands of the patrol soldiers. Three torches soaked in grease were tied to each wooden rack, and the flames quickly climbed to the top of the racks along the dry grass.

Within two hundred steps, it was blindingly bright. The ruts on the ground and the bloodstains were all clearly visible, and the royal court army formation that had been waiting all around was also revealed.

Qifugu's warhorse was startled, its front hooves lifted, and the horse's head tilted to the left, almost crashing into the cavalry beside him.

He clamped his legs on the horse's belly, gripped the reins with his right hand, and waited for the mount to stand steady again before he saw clearly what kind of place he had broken into.

In front and on both sides, there were all iron-armored soldiers.

Three square formations approached slowly, shields layered one after another, and the long spears behind reached over the shoulders of the front row, surrounding this small gap in the center.

The way back was also blocked.

Torches lit up one after another behind, and a horizontal formation pushed over from behind the tents, trapping Qifugu's five hundred cavalry together with the scattered soldiers who had followed him into the space in front of the central army tent.

The royal court had already set up a pocket formation.

From the moment Qifugu stepped into the front camp, the other side had been retreating to both sides, deliberately leaving the road to the golden eagle banner, waiting for him to lead the central army to break in here.

The blade tip dropped from Qifugu's hand, hitting the copper buckle of the saddle, making a ding sound, so light it was almost inaudible.

The shield walls all around were still closing in, leaving less and less room for the warhorses to maneuver. Many cavalrymen were squeezed together, unable to even wield their sabers.

Under the golden eagle banner, Nuhe Ti rode a tall black horse. Outside his iron armor, he wore a black leather cloak, and the wind blew the hem of the cloak to one side of the horse's buttocks.

These days of surrounding the camp had consumed much of his energy. His cheeks were already sunken, and there was a blue-black tinge under his eyes, but the hand gripping the saber had no trace of weakness.

Seeing Qifugu trapped in the formation, Nuhe Ti lifted his curved saber, the tip pointing toward his chest from afar.

"Qifugu."

These three words passed through the crackling sound of the burning fire racks and fell between the two armies.

"Did you really think I couldn't guess you would break into the camp from the north? Did you really think I surrounded you for days just to wait for you to surrender in the tent?"

Qifugu's hand gripping the saber trembled uncontrollably. The old wound on his left shoulder was pressed by the armor plates and split open again, blood seeping out and dripping onto the edge of the saddle.

Nuhe Ti pushed the curved saber forward slightly, and the old notch on the back of the blade was revealed by the firelight.

"The granary burned, the water source was cut off. The few thousand people in your hands would eventually have to rush out. I was waiting for tonight."

"And you really came, and brought everyone who could fight."

Qifugu did not answer.

His gaze swept across the shield formation on the left, then turned to the path of retreat behind him. Everywhere he looked, there were royal court iron armor, and he couldn't find even a gap that could accommodate a warhorse to charge.

The five hundred cavalry behind him were already in chaos. Several warhorses were biting each other, and the riders were desperately pulling the reins, avoiding being thrown off the horses' backs.

Several young herdsmen flipped off the ground, wanting to drill out from between the iron shields. As soon as their feet stepped into the shield formation, two rows of long spears pierced down at the same time.

Further away, Amu Ri's vanguard and the men on both wings were also cut into several segments. Horns came from different directions, and every time they sounded, a new royal court army formation closed in.

Qifugu's cavalry lost their momentum and were trapped between the tents and trenches, only able to form their own formations to resist. The screams of the injured soldiers drifted intermittently across the camp tents.

Qifugu suddenly laughed.

The laughter was low and hoarse, scattering as soon as it squeezed out of his throat, and even he himself couldn't hear what was left in it.

The deployment map pressed against his chest was soaked with sweat. The paper stuck tightly to his skin, and the corners chafed against the wounds that hadn't yet healed.

The map was fake.

There was never a two-quarter-hour shift change gap in the central army tent, and there were never only thirty guards in the northwest corner.

Gao Jiong had drawn every tent and patrol route clearly, only to make him believe that there was still a door left at the end of the dead end that could be smashed open with his life.

Now that door was closed.

Four thousand-plus Qifu tribe soldiers followed him into the royal court's continuous camp and stepped into the pocket formation that had already been prepared.

From the horizontal blades with hollow wooden pins, to the leather armor that fell apart in the rain, to this fake deployment map in his bosom, the Great Zhou never intended to let him leave the grassland alive.

He had been sold.

From beginning to end, along with the four thousand lives behind him, he had been sold together. ===== CHAPTER 909 =====

He had been sold.

From beginning to end, along with the four thousand lives behind him, he had been sold together.