Chapter 419

Li Guanyi's forces had evacuated all civilians in the outer district of Zhenxi Xiongcheng who had not been withdrawn into the inner city, registered them, spared their lives, and dispatched soldiers to relocate them temporarily to various cities in the Western Regions.

Grain, wine, and meat were also transported into the city.

Pojun made no attempt to fight; on one hand, he stationed defenders along the city walls, continuing Lu Youxian's defensive measures to hold against Chen's reinforcements, and on the other, he held grand feasts in the zone between the outer and inner cities.

He boiled meat directly beneath the inner city's gate; the aroma surged and drifted irresistibly into the inner city with the wind, further weakening the morale of the already panicked soldiers and civilians within.

We ourselves are holding firm inside the city, and our reinforcements have been blocked.

The inner city's grain reserves were far from sufficient—merely emergency rations—and all soldiers and civilians had to strictly ration their daily portions. Pojun seemed to anticipate this, using only wine, meat, and fine food as weapons, launching a psychological assault to dismantle the city's defense.

Ye Chongdao, along with veteran generals Zhou Xianping and others, led reinforcements toward the city.

But they were firmly blocked outside by the fortifications Lu Youxian had built; the divine archer general Wang Shunchen, capable of firing thousands of arrows alone, personally commanded the Assault Hundred-Protect Camp to hold this position.

Gongsun Huai-zhi and Pan Wanxiu also brought several hundred men to operate the city's defensive machinery.

Only tens of thousands held the outer city, yet they completely blocked Chen's reinforcements. When Chen Dingye learned Zhenxi Xiongcheng might fall, some ministers suspected Lu Youxian had defected and surrendered. Chen Dingye flew into rage: "Lu Youxian's heart is as hard as iron—he would never betray me!"

"Send more reinforcements!"

"If fifty thousand isn't enough, send a hundred thousand! If a hundred thousand isn't enough, send two hundred thousand!"

"Bring Lu Youxian back to me alive!"

"Hold Zhenxi Xiongcheng at all costs—Li Guanyi must not be allowed to rise!"

Chen Dingye's eyes turned bloodshot; the Chen army pressed forward, conscripting two hundred thousand peasants along the way. This final general capable of holding the nation must not fall into Li Guanyi's hands.

At this moment, Chen's generals truly understood the terror of Lu Youxian.

The entire defensive system Lu Youxian had built could not be breached even by them; with the arrival of elite archer-cavalry, Chen's army suffered heavy losses beneath Zhenxi Xiongcheng.

Impossible to break through—utterly impossible!

If one viewed the entire battlefield from above, Zhenxi Xiongcheng, built on elevated terrain, had gates on both sides—originally designed as the core fortress against the Western Regions. But now, Li Guanyi's forces held its outer city.

Yan Daiqing's logistical network, centered on Anxi City and spanning dozens of cities, continuously supplied provisions, ensuring the stability of the defense; meanwhile, the allied forces, fresh from the Western Regions battlefield and brimming with momentum, relied on Lu Youxian's personally constructed fortifications to resist Chen.

This place had nearly become the frontline confrontation between Chen and Tiance Prefecture.

Both sides fought desperately to seize this critical fortress: if Chen held Zhenxi Xiongcheng, it would strangle the link between the Western Regions and the southwest; if Li Guanyi shattered this city, he would seize the Western Regions and unleash a tide of conquest stretching ten thousand li.

Both sides were locked in brutal combat here.

Yet now, smoke rose from cooking fires across the zone between outer and inner city, every corner filled with the scent of food, laughter and chatter never ceasing—these sounds and aromas drifted into the inner city.

The defenders cursed: "Eat, eat, all you ever do is eat!"

"Eat yourselves to death!"

But unconsciously, one reached up and rubbed his belly—hunger, fierce and devouring, surged through him. Li Guanyi's forces had held the outer city for over ten days; the inner city's grain reserves had always been meager.

Moreover, civilians were still inside.

Soldiers and civilians alike consumed vast quantities of grain daily; trapped inside, they quickly grew desperate. In recent days, the rice porridge had become so thin it could reflect faces.

With logistics cut off, not only did civilian resentment boil over, but soldier morale also sank daily, with whispers of mutiny growing.

Fan Qing organized soldiers daily to shout: "Surrender and live!"

"Come down, and you'll get food!"

On the other side, each night, Chen Wenmian led the Canglang Guard in singing Chen's folk songs. Under this crushing pressure, the starving civilians inside, hearing their homeland's dialects, wept uncontrollably.

Yet even under such dire conditions,

under Lu Youxian's leadership, the remaining ten thousand defenders and over a hundred thousand civilians inside the inner city had repelled multiple assaults, fighting with unyielding, ferocious will.

But even the most resolute general had reached his limit: the city's grain was exhausted. Civilians ate one meal a day; soldiers received two, yet neither could regain peak combat strength.

Warriors, due to their formidable physicality, could endure briefly, but not indefinitely. Chen's reinforcements had barely established contact with Lu Youxian, pleading he hold out a little longer.

Every method attempted to smuggle grain into the city had failed.

The divine archer general had slain countless flying beasts.

On this day, Zhenxi Xiongcheng's commanders gathered—each looked far worse than a month prior: beards unkempt, dark circles under bloodshot eyes.

At first, they had argued; now, they had lost even the will to argue.

Under these conditions, Lu Youxian enforced an extremely strict rationing system.

Leveraging his immense personal charisma, he had held the line for a month; now, the commanders had no other thoughts—only to hold out a little longer. One commander, voice hoarse, said:

"... General Ye Chongdao's attempt to break through failed. Huh, this city really was built well—then again, it was designed for the Western Regions, meaning it was designed against all cavalry. Even the Night Gallop Cavalry couldn't crack it."

"They can't do anything—it's no fault of theirs."

"What do we do now..."

Another commander, Zhao Yizhou, said: "Li Guanyi's forces haven't launched a full assault, and our inner defenses are even stronger. Our morale still holds, barely. But we're out of grain..."

"If this continues, we'll collapse from logistical failure."

All fell silent.

They had held out this long; they knew how vital this place was to the fate of the realm, and how much effort they had poured into it. They could not bear to surrender it so lightly.

They still hoped—just a little longer. Just a little longer.

With Chen's national strength, if they could just hold on until Chen's reinforcements broke through the outer city and surged out from the inner city, they could still hold it. But the key was—there was no grain left.

Soldiers could no longer maintain sufficient combat strength.

Lu Youxian, solemn and calm, said: "Kill the warhorses. Reduce the rations for officers and generals to match those of the soldiers: two meals a day. Civilians: one meal a day. Preserve the army's combat capability."

"Those still able to fight may eat meat; others, only rice porridge."

They exchanged glances and nodded.

"Yes!"

They held for another ten days. Even Pojun was shaken by this terrifying resilience; even the bark of trees had been stripped away. Chen's defenders grew gaunt, bones protruding, yet their eyes burned like torches.

Though their spirits remained fierce, they could not last much longer.

Zhao Yizhou remained silent for a long while, then removed his helmet and knelt halfway to the ground, saying:

"General, if this is the case, we have only one final option left."

Lu Youxian said: "What?"

Zhao Yizhou fell silent for a moment, then said: "There are still civilians in the city."

Lu Youxian's pupils contracted. Zhao Yizhou gritted his teeth and said: "Whether this city falls into Li Guanyi's hands determines whether our Great Chen can still maintain its current momentum. If this city is lost, Qin Wu Hou will rise, and our Great Chen will suffer disgrace."

"General, the civilians can serve as food—enough to sustain us for months. By then, Qin Wu Hou's army will collapse from low morale, and Great Chen will recover its strength. Combined, we can still hold this place—and preserve Great Chen!"

"General!"

"We cannot let our nation's frontier fall from our hands!"

"Even if we fail, if Qin Wu Hou besieges and kills us, causing the horror of cannibalism, it will shatter his reputation for benevolence!"

"Even if we bear eternal infamy, we cannot betray our homeland!"

"General!"

Zhao Yizhou knelt and wept. Lu Youxian remained silent for a long while, then walked out, gazing at the inner city—once bustling, now quiet and desolate, the people sprawled on the ground to conserve energy.

Only the children still had the spirit to lift their hands and grasp butterflies in the wind.

Even now, Lu Youxian wore his armor, his battle robe soaked in dried blood. They recognized this famed general of Chen—he walked slowly through the inner city, and the people rose to their feet, their faces filled with respect and trust for the general who had protected them through countless wars.

Lu Youxian closed his eyes.

Great Chen… Great Chen…

Our Great Chen.

He gripped his sword, recalling his homeland: as a child, running along waterways; branches stretching from the courtyard, heavy with fruit; people coming and going, smiling and speaking.

The fruit was crisp and sweet; the wind carried laughter. Our Great Chen, culturally glorious, the greatest under heaven, occupying the southern Central Plains, rich in all directions—Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Mohism all had their place; even street vendors and tea sellers could recite poetry.

"General…"

Lu Youxian opened his eyes.

He looked at the road, where countless civilians stood watching him.

They were much thinner, yet their eyes still held respect—their faith and recognition of Lu Youxian—and they said: "General, can we win?"

A child began to cry. Her mother gently soothed her, apologetic, saying: "She's just so hungry."

Lu Youxian looked up. Along this not-long road, countless people watched him, hoping for him. And suddenly, he remembered the strategy his subordinate had proposed.

Use the city's civilians as food—enough to sustain us for months, reversing the situation.

How could we betray our homeland? How could we let our nation suffer disgrace? How could we let our nation lose this frontier stronghold?!

Lu Youxian gripped his battle sword—he was a general who had built jingguan from enemy skulls after victory; his weapon had once torn through foes. Yet now, the sword felt impossibly heavy.

Finally, Lu Youxian released his grip.

He pulled out his own ration of dried food and handed it to the crying child, saying:

"…I will protect you all."

………………

Outside the inner city of Zhenxi Xiongcheng, Fan Qing and Khan Qibili were both mentally strained. They stared at the fortress, awed. Khan Qibili whispered: "Forty days already—add the prior siege, and with three hundred thousand troops, we've failed to take a city defended by only fifty thousand for two months."

"We've committed every force, even with Mr. Zhou Pinglu's strategies."

"Master Wen Qingyu's strategies, General Pojun, Chen Wenmian, our lord, you and I, General Wang Shunchen, General Yue Qianfeng, General Li Zhaowen—all came, yet still held at bay by one Lu Youxian."

Fan Qing said: "In siege defense, this man has reached the extreme."

Khan Qibili said: "If we continue, our morale won't hold. Two months of siege with no progress has already shaken morale. If another month passes, we may have no choice but to consider other methods."

Fan Qing nodded. Morale was never constant—it rose and fell with circumstance. To launch an assault during low morale was futile. Yet just then, a clear sound rang out.

Fan Qing and Khan Qibili's expressions changed instantly. They saw the inner city of Zhenxi Xiongcheng slowly open.

The Fire Qilin Army instantly shifted—frontline troops advanced, spears leveled, swords drawn, bows drawn taut, crossbows aimed—yet all because of one man, clad in black armor, his battle robe stained with dried, darkened blood.

Fan Qing whispered: "Lu Youxian…"

In absolute silence, the famed general of Chen stepped forward.

Behind him stood the starving civilians, the Chen stronghold, and the furious, grieving warlords: "Lu Youxian, what are you doing!!! What are you doing!!!"

Zhao Yizhou's voice was shrill with rage.

The wind blew, lifting Lu Youxian's temples. He gazed at the armored ranks of the Fire Qilin Army, at Li Guanyi and Chen Wenmian arriving. The solemn general released his grip—and his battle sword fell.

The weapon that had blocked Yu Langwang, shattered Jiang Su's forces, and halted Li Guanyi's army clattered to the ground. The unyielding divine general extended both hands, his knees—never bent in battle—crashed to the earth. He closed his eyes, voice hoarse:

"…Lu Youxian."

"Open the gates. Surrender."

Whoosh—

The Fire Qilin troops before him spontaneously stepped back—none dared accept the divine general's bow. Li Guanyi strode forward, reached out, and lifted the general: "General Lu, please rise!"

Lu Youxian gripped Li Guanyi's arm and looked at him:

"Please… treat the civilians well…"

The battle ended—the inner city fully opened. Li Guanyi's forces immediately entered. Zhao Yizhou, furious and unwilling, was captured. The civilians were led out and given thin rice gruel first, to preserve life.

Li Guanyi treated Lu Youxian with utmost courtesy, honoring him as a distinguished guest. Zhou Pinglu even came to apologize. Lu Youxian remained silent for a long while, then said: "A gentleman says: 'He who understands the times is a hero.' Indeed, gentlemen are heroes."

Though this warrior spoke these words, there was little bitterness—only sighs, only reflection. He knew his defeat had many causes; Zhou Pinglu was merely one among them. Even without Zhou Pinglu, others would have come.

Zhou Pinglu said only: "In all the world, Chen and Ying are both subjects of the Red Emperor."

Lu Youxian smiled helplessly: "You speak cleverly."

"Such grand righteousness—I cannot blame you for it."

News of Lu Youxian's surrender spread.

Zhou Xianping, Ye Buyi, and others had no choice but to retreat. The Fire Qilin Army now radiated outward from Zhenxi Xiongcheng, stationing troops in every nearby town and village.

This war of attrition and siege—once the focus of the world—ended in a way no one had foreseen.

The general most skilled at defending cities ultimately opened the gates and surrendered.

The defeat of the famed general Lu Youxian, the final barrier blocking Li Guanyi's western forces, decided the ultimate victor in the Western Regions; the vast, surging tide of fate surged forward, and Li Guanyi could faintly sense the terrestrial fortune of the southwest drawing him near.

Lu Youxian met with Ye Buyi, Zhou Liu's camp, Gong Zhenyong, and others—more accurately, Po Jun had ordered these Chen-state generals to soothe the feelings of this top-tier general, for Li Guanyi's forces desperately lacked a general like Lu Youxian.

"A living fortress!"

"Give him enough time and logistical support, and he can build a fortress that blocks ninety-nine percent of all generals in the world—and if you place Chen Wenmian under his command, the only problem that could ever breach his fortress would no longer be a problem!"

Po Jun was determined to secure Lu Youxian.

Among Qin Wu Hou's Fire Qilin Army, there were many offensive generals; among the commanding generals, besides Li Guanyi, there were Chen Wenmian and Li Zhaowen, and Fan Qing could also be counted among them.

For defense, only Fan Qing could be used.

But is one Fan Qing enough?

After the realm is divided into three, the borders of Li Guanyi's territory will stretch extremely long.

Such a general is needed to garrison them.

Yet during this period, Ye Buyi, Li Guanyi, Po Jun, and others frequently visited Lu Youxian, treating him with extreme leniency and utmost propriety—but Lu Youxian still offered no strategy to Li Guanyi's forces, merely appearing as if retired.

Ye Buyi did not expect to persuade this steadfast divine general so quickly; after this visit, he rose to take his leave, saying:

"Then, General Lu, I shall not disturb you further. I take my leave today."

Lu Youxian rose personally to see him off, and as he watched the young general, he said: "You all understand timing and circumstance—you are clever men. The world is in turmoil, and this is your era. A man nearing fifty, like me, simply cannot keep pace with this grand, sweeping age."

Ye Buyi fell silent; he was always blunt, and asked directly:

"General Lu, do you consider us traitors, disloyal to our nation?"

Lu Youxian said: "I know the Emperor wronged you."

"The world is vast; all the Central States are vassals of the Red Emperor. Within this, who can clearly define treason? From the Central States' perspective, as long as you do not defect to the Tujue or Tuyuhun or Tangxiang and turn to attack us, it is not treason."

"In chaotic times, everyone has their stance—I have no right to judge you."

"Who, caught within it, truly knows right from wrong?"

Ye Buyi nodded and took his leave.

"The water shield and perch of Chen are now in season—we've sent men to fetch some back; we'll prepare a dish from your homeland for you."

"Hahaha, good! I'll wait."

Lu Youxian watched them depart, standing alone in the courtyard assigned by Li Guanyi, listening to the wind rising all around. He stood there, desolate and lonely, drinking wine but refusing to eat meat.

After drinking several jugs, his face flushed with drunkenness, eyes closed, he seemed to hear the wind of his homeland. Suddenly stirred, he drew his long sword and danced freely in the wind—his swordplay wild and domineering, carrying three parts of heroic spirit.

His final thrust pierced the fallen leaves churned by his aura, then held level before him. He drew the blade back, gazing at it, gently brushing his palm along the steel, seeing his own eyes and the white hairs at his temples reflected upon its surface.

He suddenly recalled the past.

The quiet youth of his youth, enlisting in the army, waging war across the land.

Married a girl from next door in his youth, garrisoning one city after another, protecting one people after another. What he loved most was removing his armor, wearing plain clothes, and walking alone through the city he guarded.

Watching how the people lived, listening to the sounds of peace and stability—yet what a pity.

The memory of his homeland and nation had grown hazy, just as the great Chen's fate now slipped beyond recovery.

Lu Youxian's hand caressed the blade.

He who understands the times is a hero; the world's winds have shifted violently—there is no true right or wrong.

Some adapt to the times; others hold fast to their convictions.

If everyone in this world were merely a clever man who adapted to the times, would it not be dreadfully dull?!

The great tide of fate surges vast and mighty, like a wave—and I am but a mantis trying to stop a cart, overestimating my strength.

Then let me be overestimating my strength!

"My comrades, go forth and be the wise men who adapt to the times!"

Lu Youxian raised his long sword, as if a newly forged blade rested against his throat. The divine general, unmatched in defense, lowered his gaze slightly—as if returning to his youth, seeing the homeland that had raised him.

Great Chen. Great Chen.

With lutes and flutes, with the flourishing cultures of Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, and Mohism—the greatest in the world; its military strength feared throughout the four quarters; its people living in peace—even street vendors could discuss poetry.

Great Chen. Such a brilliant name. Such a magnificent past.

The end of this name.

It should not end with treachery and deceit!

The general's temples finally bore white hair; the song of his youth echoed again in his ears. He smiled faintly—then thrust hard. The blade sliced through his throat as easily as it would tear open an enemy's body.

A torrent of hot blood gushed forth.

The long sword, stained red, leaned against the ground. The general held onto it—and did not kneel.

He had defended against the Tujue, resisted Ying State, held the south, fought in the Western Regions, crushed the Wolf King, cut off Jiang Su, and with only fifty thousand troops, held off Qin Wu Hou's three hundred thousand for two months. Lu Youxian's life ended here.

The general most skilled at defense—his final battle was opening the gates and surrendering.

He defended the city for his nation. He opened the gates for his people.

It was war—

Zhou Liu's camp, Ye Buyi, Zhou Pinglu, Gong Zhenyong, and over forty other officers—all submitted to Qin Wu Hou. Brave and battle-hardened, their exploits were renowned. Qin Wu Hou knew how to select talent and matched well with his ministers—truly a fine thing, celebrated far and wide.

Great Chen General Lu Youxian.

Died for his nation.

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