Chapter 294

That day, Yuwen Lie led his army through the mountain passes; under cover of night, eight thousand Tiger Man cavalry marched swiftly, captured three Chen fortresses, beheaded eleven generals and thirty-seven officers above the rank of Captain, thus breaching the border and advancing like a sharp blade straight into the Chen state.

General Yuwen Lie, the Divine Might Commander, was famed throughout the land.

With immediate support from the Xie Clan of Ying State, he swiftly constructed defensive lines and fortified mechanized citadels within the occupied territories, sustaining his campaign through war; all Chen civilians attempting to flee were executed.

Outside the city walls, Yuwen Lie built three skull towers from the heads of defeated Chen soldiers and fleeing civilians—each skull stacked high, eyes hollow with terror, staring at the gloomy sky, while dark crows circled above, eager to descend and feast on the flesh.

Soldiers in armor patrolled the battlefield in groups of three, thrusting their spears into every corpse on the ground—whether clad in armor or clad only in thin cloth—each spear piercing flesh, then pulled back.

Corpses left too long burst open in showers of gore.

Some groaned and rose to run, only to be pierced instantly by arrows, turned into human hedgehogs.

The stench was unbearable.

A reeking odor surged to the crown of the head, nearly causing one to faint.

Vast swarms of flies and insects clustered on the blood and flesh; soldiers' boots squelched through rotting tissue, slippery and slick, making them stagger and feel nauseated, some screaming in panic at what they saw.

Upon closer listening, one soldier had spotted a bloated corpse—he recognized his comrade from just days prior, who had once joked with him, now swollen into a bluish-purple mass, skin distended, and when poked—puff—the body burst open.

"Gag…"

The man couldn't help but retch, yet no one on the battlefield responded.

One soldier saw four bodies lying there: a man pierced like a hedgehog, behind him a woman, a boy, and a girl—all dead, civilians trying to sneak away to safety.

The man was first killed by arrows—he had tried to shield his wife and children behind him.

His wife fell to the ground and was stabbed through with a blade.

Of the two children, the elder brother tried to protect his sister; his face was slashed halfway off, then a spear pierced them both, killing them.

The soldier's gaze showed no emotion; he first poked each body with his spear, then drew his waist knife and severed every head, tossing the headless corpses together and burning them—when the wind blew, it looked like a sudden snowfall.

Then the heads were stacked together.

A skull tower.

The man's head, the woman's, the brother's, the sister's—all placed together, piled into a single cluster, intimate, warm.

How good—they could still be reunited.

The soldier who did this work grinned.

Where will I die?

The heads of these skull towers faced the city gate, lifeless, staring straight at the fortress—as if in warning, as if speaking.

The sky was gray and heavy.

Yuwen Lie captured three cities; all who resisted were killed, and skull towers were built.

Yet he ruled his troops with extreme strictness: any soldier who harassed civilians was executed by Yuwen Lie himself.

Even imperial relatives were not spared—their heads were cut off and sent back to Jingcheng, causing the victorious army to revere this general all the more, while the people's resentment found an outlet.

Countless stories of struggle, change, slaughter, tears, suffering, and lifelong regrets lay buried here—but in the annals, they were reduced to just a few lines.

Lie captured three cities, built skull towers, enforced strict laws.

The land was thus pacified; the people no longer rebelled.

—《Ying History: Biography of Yuwen Lie》

………………

When Yuwen Lie launched his sudden invasion, Chen's court demanded their Grand General Lu Youxian reinforce the border; Lu Youxian did nothing, and was secretly cursed as a cowardly old turtle, even as his own city was seized.

Lu Youxian seemed unable to bear the pressure, and turned his troops to withdraw.

But on the third day, a massive army suddenly attacked.

The former Regent of Chen, taking advantage of Ying State's invasion, struck at Chen's western border—but never expected Lu Youxian's withdrawal had been a ruse; he had returned and set two ambushes, unleashing tens of thousands of elite troops in a bloody battle.

The fighting lasted a full day and night before ending.

The Regent, unwilling to yield, continued attacking Chen's western frontier.

This seasoned general withstood court pressure, holding fast to the western frontier, preventing Chen from being caught between two enemies and suffering catastrophic damage in the short term.

The Wolf King's army surged forward in force; Lu Youxian held them back with all his strength.

For five or six days on the battlefield, Lu Youxian never left the ramparts, shouting orders to maintain morale, relying on military formations, city defenses, and Mo-jia mechanisms to staunchly resist Xiao Wuliang's assaults.

Until finally, the city held—and atop the ramparts, he raised a cup of wine to the Regent, bowed respectfully, and said: "Your Majesty, long time no see. Without Tai Ping Gong, your army's edge is no longer as sharp as it once was."

"When you were famed throughout the land, I was merely your Captain."

"Now, you seek to destroy your homeland—and I stand before you to stop you."

The Regent flew into a rage.

Yet he still ordered his troops to retreat.

As he left, the Regent stared at the fortress, snapped an arrow in two:

"Lu Youxian, old turtle!"

"One day, I will kill this old turtle and his ilk!"

After the great battle, the Regent withdrew his forces far away; Lu Youxian collapsed on the ramparts, slept for three days and nights before waking—his temples had turned half-white from this single battle; only when he learned the city held did he finally exhale.

Almost simultaneously with the great battle in the west.

The Turkic Khagan Tie Futu gathered at Ying State's border.

A critical node meant to be intercepted by the Seven Kings, the secret agent left behind by Jiang Wanxiang and Jiang Su, failed to stop this terrifying force due to an unexpected reason—Ying State's perfect strategy collapsed because its most vital link vanished.

What shocked the world was that Chen's Night-Running Cavalry appeared within the Khagan's army, launching a surprise attack on Ying State as allied mercenaries.

Before departing for Zhongzhou, Li Guanyi learned from Xue Shuangtao of the steppe's upheaval—he knew Chen Dingye had severed trade with the Turks, but not that he had secretly dispatched Night-Running Cavalry commander Ye Chongdao to the steppe.

Chen had formed an alliance with the steppe's Khagan to jointly resist Ying State—but Chen Dingye refused the Khagan's demand to marry a royal clan woman to him.

"Chen's alliance with the steppe is merely distant friendship and near aggression—to contain Ying State."

"If the Khagan seeks to invade the Central Plains, even if Chen perishes in ten years, I, the Emperor, will cut off this Khagan's hand—no matter how bloody or morally bankrupt the Central Plains may become, that is our affair."

"It's not your place to meddle!"

The Great Tian Kehan laughed loudly: "You want me to send troops, yet guard against me—Chen Dingye, where in the world is there such a good deal?"

Chen Dingye and the Great Tian Kehan drank wine at the alliance site, saying:

"Then let you yourself destroy your own father and son."

"Jiang Wanxiang still maintains trade routes with you—can't you see he's forcing you into an invisible alliance through sheer momentum?"

"What Yīng State wants is for you and your son to fight each other, so his rear can stabilize."

The Great Tian Kehan fell silent for a long while, looking at Chen Dingye, thinking of the former Crown Prince of the Western Regions; a strange expression appeared on his face as he spoke slowly: "Father killing son—you still see that man as your son?"

Chen Dingye fell silent for a long while, then coldly smiled: "I have only one son."

"He is not..."

"No."

The alliance terms were negotiated at length, and finally the Great Tian Kehan said:

"Emperor of the Central Plains, you are right—I cannot let the steppe be torn apart and become Jiang Wanxiang's pawn in Yīng State. But neither will I become your pawn. Beware—I may strike against your Central Plains at any moment."

Chen Dingye said: "I, too, am the same."

Ye Buyi breached two border cities of Yīng State, beheaded six generals, and seized two hundred li of land.

It seemed meant as a response to Yuwen Lie's brutality.

He also slaughtered soldiers and refugees, building a mound of skulls.

The Mo School's mechanical arts were weaker than the other two branches, slightly slower, yet still forged fortresses and encampments along the front lines. The great tide of the world surged—Yīng State and Chen State tore into each other in an instant, like dragons and tigers furiously devouring the world.

Across all regions, salt and iron were now rationed; wine was no longer sold.

Taxes were raised by one-third.

The price of grain rose day by day.

Different cities posted notices ordering restrictions on civilian movement and demanding able-bodied men from every region report for corvée labor.

While Chen and Yīng State were fighting, Regent Chen Fubi laughed loudly: "So it begins!" He turned his army around, abandoned his assault on Chen, and gathered his forces—then, when no one expected it, launched a final, ferocious strike into the heart of Tangxi.

Previously, when Xue Shuangtao and Li Guanyi discussed world intelligence, they mentioned that Regent Chen Fubi's army had halted near the capital of Tangxi—he was merely waiting for an opportunity, the right opportunity, one that Chen State would not interrupt.

And now, the opportunity had come.

Timing, like wind and clouds, rises with the heroes of the world, who are like dragons, riding the tide.

He nearly destroyed the entire nation from nothing within two years!

Lu Youxian, cautious and steady, did not seize the chance to attack Chen Fubi's rear.

Chen Fubi broke three cities of the Western Regions' Tangxi.

He slaughtered for three days.

The soldiers' actions violated no law—Chen Wenmian advised against it, but failed.

Chen Fubi's terrifying power surged.

The world trembled, wind and clouds shifted.

Such changes carried no warning.

No matter how much one spoke, no matter how many scrolls of history one turned, one could only sigh.

It happened suddenly.

In the imperial palace of Zhongzhou, Emperor Ji Zichang watched the changes across the land, staring blankly, utterly pained by the sense that wind and clouds were rising everywhere while he was powerless—he began to understand why so many heroes in history grew despondent in their later years.

Because the world is not ruled by just one hero.

Because all the mighty ones wait for their moment.

The great tide surges; even heaven cannot turn it back.

Ji Zichang suddenly recalled his first meeting with Li Guanyi, when Li Guanyi spoke of heroes. Now, his hand pressed upon the table, he whispered:

"The dragon can grow large or small, rise or hide; when large, it summons clouds and spits mist; when small, it hides its scales and form; when rising, it soars through the cosmos; when hidden, it lurks within the waves. Now, the dragon rides the tide, changing as a man gains fortune and roams the four seas..."

"Now, the dragon rides the tide, changing as a man gains fortune and roams the four seas."

Ji Zichang suddenly burst into tears.

Wind and clouds rose everywhere; Chen Dingye and Jiang Wanxiang never met again in Zhongzhou. The envoy delegations of Yīng State and Chen State departed Zhongzhou one by one, heading out into the world. For many, it was as if they had merely slept one night—and the world had changed.

And this time was different from before—each day, the severity increased. In the end, people were terrified: today they heard a city had fallen, tomorrow they heard a village had been stripped of grain and its people slaughtered.

Some said that on the day a city fell, soldiers' blades never returned to their scabbards, and looting lasted three days.

These rumors spread back and forth; no one knew what was true or false, how much was real or fabricated—but it was precisely these half-true, half-false tales that most disrupted hearts, filling the people with fear and panic.

Li Guanyi's forces were also leaving this place.

Wen Lingjun did not rage at Li Guanyi's actions as a powerful minister—he was loyal to the Red Emperor's realm, not to noble families. Indeed, because Li Guanyi had granted the Red Emperor's line a final dignity, he felt a sense of belonging.

"Lord, though Zhongzhou's imperial city is prosperous, it is not the place to contend for the world. Though the imperial clan members speak well, some of their words are true—this place can extinguish the heroic spirit in a hero's breast."

Wen Lingjun said: "We should return."

Li Guanyi nodded: "Agreed."

"All matters are entrusted to you, Mr."

The Fire Qilin Army of Tiance Prefecture quickly mobilized. Li Guanyi visited the Imperial Academy to pay his respects to his teacher, Master Wang Tong, and bid him farewell. The master smiled warmly, spoke a few words to him, then rose and personally escorted Li Guanyi out of the Academy.

Finally, he stood alone in the empty, even desolate, Academy, watching Li Guanyi depart, his expression calm and serene. The voice of Gongyang Su Wang came: "Why, are you unwell? Why not go to Jiangnan to recuperate?"

"The Qin Wu Hou, teacher of the Tiance Supreme General, is surely more comfortable than the Academy."

Wang Tong smiled, turned, and walked slowly away: "Twenty years ago, a northern wind howled, snow fell in daylight—I came here from my hometown. Today, autumn winds sigh, red leaves fill the sky—I send off my disciples."

"A scholar who reads his whole life, from beginning to end, will not leave."

Gongyang Su Wang turned to watch the young Confucian scholar walk far away. Wang Tong's frame was thin, yet his back remained straight, each step firm and steady.

Gongyang Su Wang laughed heartily: "Hahahaha! What a man of beginning and end!"

"What a remarkable Wang Tong of the Longmen."

He strode forward and walked slowly beside the young Confucian scholar.

This was Li Guanyi's final time seeing Wang Tong.

The Historical Records: Biographies of the Master of Letters — In the winter of the eleventh year of Tianqi, the Master fell ill and said to Gongyang Su Wang: "I dreamed that Yanzi delivered the Master's command: 'Return and rest! The Master is calling me. Why prolong my years? I shall not rise again.'" He lay sick for seven days and died.

The Book of Changes says: "Yellow robe, primordial fortune; culture resides within."

His posthumous title was Master of Letters.

He served in the Temple of Letters.

He had two sons, both of whom vanished from the world, living in humble poverty.

…………………………

The Fire Qilin Army spent far longer preparing their gear than anticipated, and naturally there was reason: the hearts of the people were in turmoil; for a long time, the Fire Qilin Army had been distributing porridge to the common folk, and many impoverished households had simply settled near the Fire Qilin Army's encampment.

Now the Fire Qilin Army was preparing to depart in full display.

In the final days, the price of rice in Zhongzhou City rose day by day; the aristocratic families finally saw through the Fire Qilin Army's scheme. Their hearts grew anxious, and they too began distributing porridge.

"Li Guanyi plans to take these mud-footed peasants away!"

"No, no, we must give them some benefits!"

"If the mud-footed peasants are gone, everyone will wear fine robes—how can we still claim to be aristocrats? Without servants, must we dress and bathe ourselves? Bring out the silver and set up porridge stalls."

The aristocratic lords allocated a vast sum; they could perceive public sentiment and the tide of events, albeit belatedly, and they knew where their true power lay. Just the Gao family alone contributed fifty thousand taels of silver.

This sum could feed countless people for two full months.

If we confined it only to the poor farmers tilling the Gao family's vast fields.

We could give them two meals a day, each with eggs, a touch of meat, and occasionally a hearty dish of meat—only when they realized they were dying did they truly open their wallets.

When the funds were disbursed, the Second Lady and Third Lady quarreled. Learning of such a vast sum, these two beauties, whose fingers were as pale and smooth as snow, felt it a waste.

They demanded ten thousand taels of silver to buy a rouge imported from the Western Regions.

It was said that when applied to the lips, it glowed like radiant clouds and carried a faint fragrance.

The Gao family lord's advisors dared not defy these two beauties.

They could only acquiesce.

Thus the sum became forty thousand taels of silver.

Forty thousand taels was still a great deal.

It could ensure the farmers working on the Gao family's lands ate rice, with meat once every five days—though the meat was scarce, the rice and vegetables were enough to fill their bellies.

The common folk clung to their homes and their land; as long as they were fed, they would not leave.

Then, as the funds were to be distributed outward, the Chief Steward intercepted them.

The Chief Steward was the Lady's brother. He examined the ledger, shook his head, and tapped his finger on the precious table: "Forty thousand taels for these mud-footed peasants? That's far too much—utterly wasteful."

The Lord's confidant said: "But the Lord fears these peasants, misled by the Fire Qilin Army, will abandon Zhongzhou and join the Fire Qilin Army."

The Chief Steward sneered: "The Master is still too kind-hearted."

"He doesn't understand that common folk—mud-footed peasants—are like dogs."

"When hungry, they'll return."

"Here, I'll manage this money for my brother-in-law. Don't speak foolishly. Know this: don't feed the common folk too well. Keep them just barely fed—that's how you get them to work."

Thus the forty thousand taels were slashed to twenty thousand.

Twenty thousand taels, though greatly reduced, was still substantial enough to ensure the farmers on the Gao family's vast fields ate two meals a day and had meat occasionally each month.

Then he walked out and met the Second Steward—the younger brother of the Second Lady.

He met the Young Master, the distant cousin.

He met the steward of the Great Qian Yuan, and finally handed over the funds—but the porridge steward took a little, thinking: "A little for me won't matter, won't matter"; the fat head cook took a little, saying: "A little for me won't matter—the people will still eat."

Then the cooks took a little more, and the laborers hauling the porridge took a little more.

Finally, the porridge was served.

The Gao family lord came to inspect. On the first day, the porridge was indeed filling—everyone received an egg and plenty of vegetables, and the people praised the Lord's benevolence.

The Lord departed satisfied, and did not return to inspect in the following days.

Only when the Gao family's Young Master, Gao Yingju, sensed the shifting public opinion did he don ragged clothes, cover his face, and secretly investigate—only to discover the truth. He returned in fury, kicked open the Lord's door, and cursed him bitterly.

The aristocracy's upper echelons then learned that the dozens of thousands of taels allocated had provided the people with nothing but thin gruel.

The gruel was so watery it could reflect a face; the rice was scarce, and mixed with sand!

Even this was not available to all.

To eat, one had to bow low, speak countless flattering words.

Then the porridge server would lift his large ladle, pour a spoonful into the air, and laugh: "Hey, come and eat!"

The Gao family lord turned pale: "That first day!"

Gao Yingju said: "That first day was merely a performance for you. Even the people who came to eat were relatives of the household!" He was still young, yet his voice now trembled with grief. He raised his head, gazing at the opulent aristocratic mansion.

It was only in this moment of upheaval that he realized: the decay of this aristocracy was not the fault of one or two individuals—it was an eight-hundred-year-old rot, a festering mass of flesh, fed by the blood of the common people, upheld by every level of society.

And as the Fire Qilin Army prepared to depart, the people noticed: the aristocracy's porridge grew thinner day by day, while the Fire Qilin Army's porridge grew richer with each passing day!

On the final day, they slaughtered countless pigs, simmering meat until the aroma spread for miles. The Qin Wu Hou, whom the aristocracy called a power-hungry villain, had been eating alongside the common folk all along.

During this time, the aristocratic families all proclaimed their benevolence.

The Fire Qilin Army said nothing—but their daily improving meals stirred a quiet unease in every heart. On this final day, Mr. Master Wen He held out his meal and said: "Everyone, eat well today."

The people's unease reached its peak. Someone could no longer hold back:

"This food… it's too good. Too wasteful."

"We shouldn't eat this."

Mr. Master Wen He, whom the common folk regarded as a great good man, smiled and comforted them:

"It's fine, eat as much as you like—this is the Fire Qilin Army's final hospitality."

"Eat as much as you want."

With regret, he spoke those words: "After all…"

"We're leaving."

In an instant, the place fell into deathly silence.

Silence so terrifying it chilled the bone.