Chapter 13: One of Us Turned Out to Be a Han

“Si Province is truly a wonderful place!”

Hou Jing, who had spent his childhood in Huishuo and later joined Taiping Zhai, living either in biting cold winds or mountain hollows, had never before set foot on flat land—and he was profoundly shaken.

It was simply too wealthy!

The climate here was milder than the north, the land far more fertile; compared to the impoverished Liuzhen, resources here were abundant.

No wonder the Xianbei were desperate to push south!

For the first time, Hou Jing understood why the Xianbei had moved their capital to Luoyang.

Li Shuang, dressed in Hu clothing, approached Hou Jing, who was dressed in Han attire and adorned in a flamboyant manner.

“Why are you wearing Han clothes and tying your hair up?”

“I found them in the manor, my lord. Do I look like a Han scholar in this outfit?”

“You look just like one!”

Hearing Li Shuang’s words, Hou Jing was delighted and said:

“My lord, rest assured—the area around here is already in chaos.”

Wan Ziqizhen deeply hated Han people; after his rebellion, the Han magnates in Si Province all fled upon hearing the news.

The Hu chieftains who refused to join Wan Ziqizhen’s rebellion also fled with them.

With order gone, whether Hu herdsmen or Han refugees, all lost their fear—and under Li Shuang’s incitement, they surged into these abandoned lands, looting everything they could find.

Though the Han magnates and Hu chieftains had fled, they could only take their most valuable belongings; much of great worth remained behind.

In just a few days, the dilapidated manor where Li Shuang and his men stayed bore no trace of its former owners.

“My lord, I don’t understand—General Erzhu Rong’s commanders are all preparing to fight Wan Ziqizhen. Why aren’t we seeking military merit? Why come here to stir up rebellion?”

Hou Jing didn’t understand; Li Shuang smiled and asked:

“What was our purpose in coming south?”

“To quell the rebellion!”

Li Shuang shook his head.

“Quelling the rebellion is merely an excuse; seizing territory is the real goal. The more places that rebel, the more land we can claim after suppressing them.”

Hearing Li Shuang’s words, Hou Jing seemed to grasp it, his face breaking into a sly grin.

“So that means Si Province isn’t chaotic enough yet!”

“You’ve finally gotten it!”

Hou Jing smiled, but a hint of worry remained.

“My lord, two strange fellows have recently joined our group.”

“Strange fellows?”

Li Shuang followed Hou Jing to the place he mentioned—a ruined temple within the manor.

For stealth and mobility, Li Shuang had brought only Hou Jing and a few dozen cavalrymen.

Thousands of rebels roamed nearby, mostly half-naked, long-starved, their cheeks pale with hunger.

The two men inside the temple were utterly different.

They sat apart, east and west, keeping a considerable distance and watching each other warily.

One leaned against the wall, nearly eight feet tall, handsome and refined, beside him a long black cloth-wrapped box, as tall as he was—no one knew what was inside.

The other sat on the ground, with dragon-like brows and a leopard’s neck, arms thick as ancient tree roots; beside him stood a long spear and a massive wine gourd, as he watched the scene with amusement, occasionally lifting the gourd to drink.

When Li Shuang entered, they both sensed his presence.

“May I ask what brings two heroes here?”

The carefree man spoke first:

“I heard our leader has raised the banner of righteousness, seeking to rebel against the Luoyang court—I deeply admire you and have come to serve.”

The other, who had been standing, also spoke—but his words were few.

“I share the same intention!”

Their words were clearly false.

His group was nothing but a makeshift band—aside from Li Shuang and his few dozen cavalry, everyone else were starving refugees with nothing to eat.

Li Shuang didn’t even pay wages—who would come here at their own expense?

“To have the help of two heroes—I am deeply grateful.”

After some polite exchanges, Li Shuang stepped out of the temple; Hou Jing asked beside him:

“My lord, what should we do about these two?”

“Ignore them. Once we reach Dingzhou’s border, find a chance to lose them.”

“I understand!”

Xiurong City.

The banner of Xiurong’s First Tribal Chief fluttered outside the city—Wan Ziqizhen knew Erzhu Rong had arrived!

One was the tribal chief of North Xiurong, the other a herdsman of South Xiurong; Wan Ziqizhen had met Erzhu Rong before and knew his talent, yet they had never truly clashed.

“You mean to say whoever wins this battle will claim all of Xiurong!”

Unlike when facing Erzhu Zhao, Wan Ziqizhen’s battle spirit surged when facing Erzhu Rong.

Erzhu Rong’s personal arrival meant both sides had laid their cards on the table.

Wan Ziqizhen held the wealthy South Xiurong, but was surrounded by Northern Wei imperial forces. Defeating Erzhu Rong would open the northern route and connect him with the Liuzhen rebels.

Erzhu Rong, do you think I fear you?

“Open the gates! Summon my men—let us fight!”

Wan Ziqizhen gave the order; those around him tried to dissuade him.

“We hold the city, with ample soldiers and grain stores—we need not clash directly with Erzhu Rong. If the herdsman wishes to fight, let the Han troops lead the charge. Why must our own tribesmen be the vanguard?”

“You don’t understand Erzhu Rong at all. Those Han troops may hold their own against Erzhu Zhao, but they are no match for him!”

Then Wan Ziqizhen’s voice rose sharply:

“We are noble warriors, not lowly Han people. You must know: whoever wins this battle will claim all of Xiurong Commandery!”

As the great gates of Xiurong City slowly opened, Erzhu Rong knew—he had already won this war.

At night, Li Shuang sat with Hou Jing and the two new freeloaders around a iron pot.

Inside the pot, fresh mutton was simmering.

Around them wandered Han refugees, who sniffed the meat but dared not approach.

Simply put—the four men inside looked dangerous.

These two kept their mouths tightly shut; for days, Li Shuang had not uncovered their true identities.

The only certainty was—they were both Han people.

Yet they did not give their Han names, instead inventing Xianbei names.

The one with the massive wine gourd called himself Lou Ang; the one with the long box called himself Yu Fukan.

In this cold society, even basic trust between people had vanished.

To be a Han person yet use a Xianbei name—and speak Xianbei fluently!

Li Shuang could only sigh inwardly at the decline of morals and the corruption of human nature.

“Big Wild Brother, the meat’s almost ready!”

“Got it!”

The mutton in the pot was nearly cooked; Li Shuang lifted his spoon, about to taste it.

Suddenly, the night rang with the sound of hooves.

Hou Jing sensed danger and whispered to Li Shuang’s ear:

“My lord, our men are still scattered outside.”

“Let’s wait and see.”

Dozens of Hu cavalry galloped swiftly toward the smoke in the darkness.

As they drew near, those inside the hut could hear their voices.

“Damn it, Erzhu Rong is terrifying—we’re finished!”

The dozen or so men entered the hut; the space grew cramped.

Seeing the four gathered around the pot, they asked:

“Who are you?”

“Da Ye Shuang!”

“Lou Ang!”

“Yu Fukan!”

After Li Shuang and the two others gave their names, the Hu cavalry nodded—no objections. They turned to the only man who hadn’t spoken.

“Hou Jing!”

“Get out!”

“Why?”

“You’re a Han person—do you even belong in this room?”

In that moment, Hou Jing wanted to pull out his forty-meter blade and slaughter every last bastard before him!

“I’m not even Han!”

Those three are the real Han people!

Hou Jing’s words only drew a round of sneers.

Driven out of the house, feeling the cold night wind, smelling the aroma of mutton soup, hearing the laughter and chatter inside, Hou Jing seethed with resentment.

He silently pulled out his knife and began to sharpen it.

“These damned Hu Ren!”