Chapter 446

The Yue family army, originally stationed along the Chen border to counter the Ying forces, launched a sudden counterattack on several Chen cities after Jiang Su withdrew, then defected to Qin Wu Hou.

Han Zaizhong, deputy commander of the Yue family army, was a shameless brute.

At first, the Yue army officers worried whether defecting to Qin Wu Hou would provoke Chen Dingye's retribution against the civilians in the garrisoned cities; they argued back and forth without resolution, and Han Zaizhong, hearing them, grew furious.

So he seized the moment, rode out unarmed, letting the enemy lower their guard, drank small cups of wine while mounted, and simply rode over to cut off the monitor's head, seizing the cities in the chaos.

But the cities were now in their hands.

Just as they planned to join forces with Qin Wu Hou, Jiang Su arrived.

They could not move immediately.

Without the Yue commander present, facing Jiang Su offered no chance of victory—only the possible loss of a few of Jiang Su's troops, nothing more; besides, Jiang Su now commanded a roaming force, and defeating him would mean nothing, while losing would mean total ruin.

Be fierce when you must be fierce, be timid when you must be timid.

Why provoke Jiang Su's fury with reckless acts?

That would just hand him a punching bag.

Jiang Su cannot take Qin Wu Hou's city protected by the Great Array of the Array Master, but can he not crush a field army? Old Han has no intention of squandering the Yue commander's legacy as Jiang Su's war trophy.

Yet during this waiting period,

Han Zaizhong's clever mind, brimming with wild ideas, conceived a new plan.

As the saying goes, if you do something, do it thoroughly.

Cut the grass but leave the roots, and the wind will bring it back in spring.

Another saying: kill the young, and the old come.

Since we've already committed this capital crime,

why not make it bigger?

Around these captured cities lie others, all loyal to Chen Dingye; they may not notice for a day or two, but once the other side realizes their prince and monitors have been silent too long, they'll grow suspicious.

"When that happens, those fools will surely come to punish us—damn it!"

"Why not do it thoroughly, before they come to attack us?"

"Take them first!"

"Then even before the Yue commander, we'll have reason—this is all they forced upon me!"

Yang Xingshi's temple veins throbbed: "How did they force you?"

Han Zaizhong roared: "I killed the prince and the monitor—they'll know they must punish us."

Yang Xingshi said: "But they don't know yet."

Han Zaizhong stroked his beard and said: "They can know."

Seeing the Yue army officers reluctant to risk it, Han Zaizhong offered his justification:

"Mò xū yǒu?"

Four characters ignited the long-suppressed fury in every officer's heart.

Han Zaizhong seized the moment to shout: since capture meant certain execution anyway, why spare Chen Dingye's face? Lice multiply until you stop itching; debts pile until you stop worrying; if we're going to do this, let's do it big!

Even Yang Xingshi now sided with Han Zaizhong; after deliberation, the Yue army officers agreed—since the deed was done, better to make it bigger.

I'm already guilty of death.

Do I care whether I take one city or two?

I'm not stupid!

I'll take as many as I can!

Han Zaizhong and his men swiftly seized the surrounding cities before news spread, and sent envoys to seek Qin Wu Hou; by the time the rebellion was exposed, Qin Wu Hou's troops had already arrived to defend the captured territories.

Han Zaizhong appeared bold and coarse, but in truth he was meticulous, leaving no loose ends; when he paid his respects, he personally delivered each city's official seal to Qin Wu Hou Li Guanyi, gripped Li's arm, and wailed bitterly about how hard the Yue army brothers had suffered.

He said the Yue commander, when he was Li's age, had fought under Tai Ping Gong's command; seeing Li reminded him of Tai Ping Gong, and of the Yue commander's future.

He wept so bitterly he used Li's sleeve to wipe his eyes.

He nearly wiped his nose with it too.

Li Guanyi's eye twitched.

With the Yue army now absorbed into Qin Wu Hou's faction, Old Han finally sighed in relief—but since joining Qin Wu Hou's ranks, he stopped gambling and keeping concubines; Yang Xingshi asked why he'd changed.

Han Zaizhong said: "Back home, on our own turf, a little looseness didn't matter; but now under Qin Wu Hou, everyone knows his laws are strict. I can take a few punishments—my skin's thick, no harm done."

"But if I tarnish the Yue commander's reputation, even death by head-bashing won't suffice."

Yang Xingshi was astonished; Han Zaizhong slapped his shoulder: "Scholars say oranges grown here are big and sweet, but if transplanted elsewhere, they turn small and bitter. A true man must be bold when he must be bold, and resolute when he must be resolute."

"On Chen's border, if I didn't act wild, how could they trust me?"

"Here, if I'm not firm and fierce, how will the Yue army earn respect?"

Yang Xingshi sighed in admiration: "No wonder the Yue commander entrusted the army to you when he left."

Han Zaizhong laughed loudly, but waited to drink with General Yue Qianfeng.

Many criticized Qin Wu Hou for invading other states unjustly.

Yet others argued it was Ying that first attacked Qin Wu Hou, so this was merely counterattack; as for the Yue army's defection, Yue Pengwu's precedent justified it—Confucian doctrine holds even a ten-generation grudge may be avenged—isn't this true?

Others said Qin Wu Hou was originally the Heavenly Strategy Supreme General, commander of all imperial armies, the Crimson Emperor's Grand Marshal; for Ying and Chen to refuse his command was bad enough, yet they dared raise arms against him—who was truly disloyal and unjust?

These four currents of public opinion raged without end.

Chen Dingye was thus enraged, furious and bitter, staring at the map: though Chen held part of northern Ying territory, that region had belonged to Chen just decades ago.

Yet because of Qin Wu Hou Li Guanyi, Chen had lost all control over the southwest, and with it, the empire's most vital waterways; though the actual territorial loss was minor—since the southwest had always been unruly—the consequences were severe.

But the strategic value of the waterways was extraordinary.

For Chen and Ying, waterways were important but not core.

Unlike Chen Dingye, for Li Guanyi, waterways could revitalize his entire domain; with them, Li Guanyi's power had transformed, and Chen Dingye's heart burned with anguish, his fury rising like wildfire.

Li Guanyi's transformation and gains weighed heavier on him than the territory he had lost.

From now on, Chen would be completely sandwiched between Qin Wu Hou and Ying, faintly resembling a dragon with its tail severed, forever stripped of its former grandeur, its decline now unmistakably emerging.

Chen Dingye, hair disheveled and barefoot, paced slowly through the palace.

A massive topographical map hung before him; he stared at it, and with his insight, he understood: if Ying's current state meant its people were weary, in need of rest and recovery to plan for greater matters—

then Chen truly had no chance at dominating the world.

The reason it had not yet fallen—

was merely that the foundation of a great nation still remained.

Even generals like Qin Wu Hou and Jiang Su, leading their armies forward, would find themselves worn down by Chen's desperate defense—despite Chen's frequent defeats—because of the logistical strain on their own troops and the casualties inflicted by prolonged stalemate.

Though Chen would meet the same fate then.

But as a great nation, it could drag the other two into an endless vortex; he himself could never fulfill his dream of unifying all under heaven, yet he could use his corpse to crush their dreams together, pulling them both into the whirlpool of death.

If I cannot succeed, neither shall you!

But such an outcome was unbearable to Chen Dingye.

To be forced by Li Wanli's son into sacrificing his ancestral legacy, three centuries of imperial rule, to drag his enemies down—to burn the bones of his ancestors, to expend the lives of his people and soldiers—was utterly disgraceful, a shame so profound it would make the whole world sneer.

Chen Dingye's heart was gnawed by venomous poison, pierced by rage and despair.

He could not help but let out a long, piercing cry, teeth clenched, agony tearing through his soul.

"Li Wanli, Li Wanli—you have a fine son, you have a fine son… Had you been cruel enough, lucky enough, to burn your son along with the rest that night, this situation would never have come to pass. That would have been perfect."

"Jiankuang would never have broken through; Jiangnan would remain in chaos; the Western Regions would fall entirely to my elder brother. Our plan would have succeeded, reversing Chen's decline—had it not been for you, had it not been for your son!"

"You deserve to die, both you and your son deserve to die!"

"Corrupt minister! Corrupt minister!"

"A subject must die when the sovereign commands it—why won't you die? Why won't you die? Why do you still linger like a shadow here?!"

Barefoot and disheveled, Chen Dingye paced endlessly through the palace, clutching a lantern, murmuring constantly—Chen Fubi's death had utterly shattered his plans, and Chen Wenmian now seemed fully committed to the Fire Qilin Army.

These two events alone had delivered a massive blow to Chen Dingye.

One was the complete collapse of a warlord's desperate resolve.

The other, the failure of his dream to rebirth Chen from ashes.

Added to these were Lu Youxian's suicide, the fall of Zhenxi Xiongcheng, the entire waterway now under Qin Wu Hou's control, and the betrayal of the Yue family army—each event like a blade, and all the karmic consequences of his past deeds now fell upon him at once.

Do not speak of someone like Chen Dingye, once influenced by Dan Tai Xianming.

Even a true hero, standing tall beneath heaven, might not preserve his composure and nature after such a cascade of blows—Chen Dingye's own heart realm was already slipping into madness.

It seemed the Qiongqi blood grew ever purer.

When he visited his son, the Crown Prince Chen Tianyi, and saw the two-year-old boy playing with his hair atop his knees, he felt affection—yet also a sudden, horrifying impulse to wrap his hands around the child's delicate neck and twist it until it snapped.

Chen Dingye was furious and terrified by this impulse.

He had not seen Chen Tianyi in weeks; under the pressure of the world's shifting tides and the influence of Chen's royal secret divine art, his nature grew ever more uncontrollable.

He stared at the topographical map, as if already seeing the future of the world, the end of all under heaven.

Occasionally, a eunuch passed through the palace and heard the emperor's low laughter.

He heard the sword within its scabbard humming, emitting a mournful, chilling wail.

Yet under these circumstances, a secret envoy arrived from the northern steppes—the Tian Kehan of the Tujue, the second-greatest divine general in the world, the strongest cavalry commander, who had once joined forces to crush Ying's offensive.

Chen Dingye suppressed his hatred for Li Guanyi and received the envoy, hosting a banquet in the palace. The envoy, a steppe general named Sa Pa Er Mu, was bold and imposing—but after the feast, when he secretly met Chen Dingye, he suddenly spoke:

"All present at today's banquet are your Majesty's trusted ministers; nothing need be hidden from them. But I come bearing the Tian Kehan's promises and goodwill—I must avoid their ears."

"Great Emperor of Chen, in our prior cooperation, we defeated Ying's fierce tiger and seized vast lands."

"We hear the Emperor Jiang Wanxiang of Ying has grown old, and in the Central Plains, Jiangnan has birthed a new hero. Forgive my frankness—Chen's current strength can no longer aspire to dominate the world."

"The Tian Kehan proposes an alliance."

The weary Chen Dingye raised his eyes to the sharp-eyed steppe general, who smiled like an eagle: "Chen is now caught between Qin Wu Hou and Ying. The Central Plains to the north belong to Ying; the waterways to the west are under Qin Wu Hou's control."

"Though Chen's territory remains large, it is confined entirely to this middle ground."

"Once both nations recover and regain strength, Your Majesty's position will grow even more precarious—you will no longer be able to revive your ancestors' legacy or seize the Central Plains. But our steppes did not participate in the last three years of war—we remain fierce and unbroken."

"We can send troops to clear your surroundings."

"All we ask is that, after defeating Ying, you cede to us the two thousand li of land behind Ying, and the three thousand li along the border with the Western Regions. The vast Central Plains—nearly double Chen's current territory—will be yours."

"You need only open your passes, allowing our iron cavalry to enter the Central Plains under the guise of a merchant guild. The Tian Kehan is willing to share this world with you!"

"Even willing to form a marital alliance, becoming blood kin."

Chen Dingye's eyes, clouded by drink, fixed on the young steppe nobleman: "You will help me send troops?"

Sa Pa Er Mu said: "Yes."

Chen Dingye said: "To help me?"

Sa Pa Er Mu said: "Our Tian Kehan knows your feud with Jiangnan's Qin Wu Hou. Once that Fire Qilin matures, it will surely come to snap your throat. And now, after the death of Yu Langwang, Chen cannot match him."

"The Tian Kehan considers you a friend."

"He is willing to ease your burden. After conquering the world, you take two-thirds, we take one-third; our children will intermarry, becoming one family. All under heaven will be the bloodline of our Golden Clan."

Chen Dingye said: "You will help me kill Li Guanyi?"

Sa Pa Er Mu bowed humbly: "Yes. The Tian Kehan himself is willing to lead the Tie Futu to shatter Jiangnan."

Chen Dingye studied the scroll he was given, and saw the name of the Chen royal woman meant to be his bride—his clouded eyes caught a familiar name—

【Thirteen Tian Kehan offers to take Xue Shuangtao as concubine】

Xue Shuangtao.

Chen Dingye thought of the Xue woman—nineteen years old, ruler of Changfeng Lady, grown ever more ethereally beautiful, and bound in ways he could not name to Li Wanli's son, Li Guanyi.

Marry this woman to the steppes.

I can severely retaliate against Li Guanyi.

There is also Tie Futu, and the second-greatest general under heaven is marching to punish Jiangnan; the Fire Qilin Army has just endured a long campaign and certainly cannot withstand such a battle—even if they are not crushed outright in war, their logistics and entire power structure will be worn down.

This is a promising chance for revenge; a flicker of change passed through Chen Dingye's cloudy eyes.

He wore loose clothing, drank wine, and said: "You want me to open my city gates and let you enter my nation?"

"Yes."

Chen Dingye said: "You want me to permit you to station your troops within the Great Chen nation?"

Sapaermu bowed humbly: "This is also to oppose Qin Wu Hou."

Chen Dingye said: "You also want me to supply you with logistics and military grain from my southern lands?"

Sapaermu said: "Yes."

He was confident, because in the Great Tian Kehan's calculations, Chen was now like a giant bled dry—its blood and strength slowly draining from the wound, bit by bit, until it finally collapsed from exhaustion.

If you do not wish to decay slowly over ten years until all four corners collapse and you perish in bitter defeat, allying with the Turkic steppe is the best option—then Chen can endure, surpass its past achievements, and expand beyond its former borders.

Chen Dingye himself could even become the emperor who opened the greatest territory in Chen's history.

At that moment, Chen Dingye suddenly burst into laughter: "Good! Good! Excellent! You help me conquer the world, you help me station troops, you help me seek revenge—brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

"Then what am I even an emperor for?"

"Won't I become a 'puppet emperor'?!"

"I've never heard a better joke—it's perfect for drinking with, but alas, alas, there's no wine left."

Sapaermu's heart lurched—he heard something unnatural in Chen Dingye's laughter, sensed danger, raised his head, and ripples formed in the air; the ink-black blood-eyed phantom Qiongqi appeared in the palace, and in an instant, a flash of cold light.

Sapaermu's neck seared with pain—a blade of the Son of Heaven's sword had sliced into his throat; blood slowly dripped down the blade. His gaze froze, his vision darkened, and he stared at Chen Dingye before him.

How is this possible?!

I came bearing the Great Tian Kehan Your Majesty's orders.

How dare Chen Dingye kill me?!

How dare he strike?!

How could he refuse…

How could he refuse an opportunity to avenge himself, gain greater territory, and extend Chen's dynasty? Doesn't he want power now? Doesn't he care for his legacy?

Chen Dingye held the sword, his gaze slanting down at Sapaermu; in Sapaermu's eyes, this king, nearly crushed by overwhelming pressure, lifted his gaze—and behind him loomed a vast shadow.

Ink-black radiance swirled, transforming into a blood-crazed glare; the colossal black Qiongqi phantom emerged behind him, immense enough to engulf the entire palace, its gaze descending upon him. Chen Dingye said:

"My Great Chen, even in death, will never ally with you steppe barbarians. If I die in battle, I am merely a fallen monarch—but if I let you cross the passes…"

"How shall I face the generations to come?"

Sapaermu gripped the blade, defiant: "Your nation will fall! You will lose! Your life will be torn apart by the Fire Qilin!! You kill me, and the Great Tian Kehan's armies will come to punish Chen!!"

"Even if you refuse, the Great Tian Kehan will come to kill you all!"

Chen Dingye regarded him coldly: "Understood."

"The steppe khan? Let him come."

"And Li Guanyi…"

"Between him and me, it is either he kills me, or I kill him."

"I cannot kill him—but to take Chen Dingye's life, you must pay a price. You steppe barbarians simply do not understand the way of the Central Plains monarch—even a foolish, corrupt ruler will never open his gates to foreign invaders."

"Even if I am disgraced, I will never be a puppet emperor."

Chen Dingye drew the sword; the steppe general's throat was severed, blood splashed onto the blade and fell into a half-full cup of wine—the clear liquor instantly stained crimson, its fierce aura surging.

Under the steppe general's gaze, the Chen emperor lifted the cup, barefoot:

"I have cut off your head."

"But who among you shall cut off this great head of mine… who dares?!"

He tossed back the cup of blood-wine, laughing wildly; Sapaermu, terrified beyond words, watched as Chen Dingye struck his sword again, severing Sapaermu's head as a gift to the steppe Great Tian Kehan.

When the Great Tian Kehan's second envoy arrived in fury, he saw the Chen emperor had severed Sapaermu's thigh, carved a large white bone into a pipa, and played it—its sound hollow, chilling, white hair swirling as the Qiongqi growled low.

The ministers and officials turned to face the Great Tian Kehan's envoy, their gazes like countless ghostly spirits beneath a ferocious tiger—deep, cold, sending chills through the marrow.

Chen Dingye, white-haired, played the pipa—its mournful, hollow, icy tones became an unshakable shadow in the heart of the steppe general.

There was no retreat left.

The Great Chen would not surrender, nor become an entryway for foreign invaders; having lost all retreat, Chen Dingye set down the white-bone plectrum and gazed at the distant sky.

"If you want my head, come take it, Li Guanyi."

"Will you be the one to take my head?"

"Or will I shatter your unrealistic dreams?"

The mad, threatening, dangerous Chen emperor sent a gift to Jiangnan.

Before Li Guanyi led his forces back to Jiangnan, he returned the grain to the villagers who had lent it to him; the old man still fed him, curiously asking: "After you've won, does this place now belong to Jiangnan?"

"Yes."

The old man stroked his beard, puzzled: "Then what country are we now?"

As Feng Xiao drank, Li Guanyi smiled and replied: "We don't know yet."

The old man said: "Honestly, it doesn't matter much—hey, as long as we don't have to pay all those confusing taxes like before, right? And we'll get the same treatment as Jiangnan?"

He spoke of kings, marquises, generals, and ministers with little spirit.

But when he spoke of taxes—no more of those bewildering, endless levies—his eyes lit up. Li Guanyi nodded seriously: "Yes."

"We've delivered the goods. We must leave."

"The main force of the Fire Qilin Army will return to the Eighteen Prefectures of Jiangnan."

"Ah, can't you at least eat something? Oh, I've already prepared it—take these with you, eat them on the road." The old man pulled out some roasted mo, golden-brown, crisp with every bite; Li Guanyi had intended to refuse, but seeing the roasted mo, he somehow kept them.

The old man saw them off at the village entrance, leaning on his cane, sighing: "The Eighteen Provinces of Jiangnan—what a fine place, truly. One day, this old man wishes to go to the Eighteen Provinces of Jiangnan, to see that Qin Wu Hou."

"I wonder if he's really like the stories say—a giant of a man, with enough space on his shoulders to ride a horse."

Li Guanyi asked: "What do you think Qin Wu Hou is like?"

The old man said: "How would I know?"

"But most rumors are unreliable. I imagine he has black hair, stands straight and tall, looks young, and is just an ordinary man?"

Li Guanyi looked at the old man and said:

"You're right. He is exactly such a man."

As the old man spoke of how he must return, the two rode away, and Feng Xiao said:

"Lord, do you think he's right?"

Li Guanyi glanced at the tipsy strategist: "Isn't he?"

Feng Xiao fell into thought.

"Hmm, is he right? Or isn't he?"

While the scholar was lost in thought, Li Guanyi secretly drank and spurred his horse away.

"We're heading back!"

"Ah, Lord, wait a moment—wait for my wine!"

When returning to Jiangnan—

When casting the Nine Cauldrons.

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