Chapter 556: Beacon Fires of a Chaotic Age, the Gentleman Transforms as the Leopard

The purpose and reason He Ruo Qinhu was summoned into the palace by the Emperor was none other than this — Emperor Jiang Yuan had ultimately been thrown into some panic by the beacon fires and war-signal smoke rising from every corner of the land — even though these rebel armies combined would not exceed a hundred thousand men.

But they were too densely packed, and far too frequent.

It looked terrifyingly urgent.

He Ruo Qinhu was also disappointed in his heart; he would have liked nothing better than to fling up his sleeves and leave, yet he could not — his daughter had gone to the family home earlier to weep and tell him that she was already carrying the Son of Heaven's child, and begged her father not to stand by idly.

Empress He Ruo, her eyes glistening with tears, sobbed: "Is Father truly willing, for the sake of some so-called empty reputation, to let your daughter and your grandchild die in this chaotic age!"

Even He Ruo Qinhu's iron will could not pretend he had not seen his daughter in such a state.

She was his youngest daughter, the most doted upon since birth; and now there was this matter, with a child of his bloodline to consider. No matter how furious He Ruo Qinhu was at Jiang Yuan's conduct, he had no choice but to continue obeying.

The Emperor treated him with the utmost courtesy and propriety.

He was given a seat, tea was served personally. As He Ruo Qinhu held the tea, his mind drifted — before him, for a fleeting instant, it seemed as if it were still that old man in his twilight years, yet still burning with ambition, his smile bold and unhurried — the Azure Dragon — the great Emperor of Ying.

Only now, several years had passed.

The Azure Dragon's bones and blazing blood had long since gone cold in this chaotic age.

He Ruo Qinhu looked at the one wearing the same robes — young, handsome, yet with a pleading look upon his face: the Emperor.

Between that daze and reality, it was as if he were watching that sovereign of magnificent talent and grand strategy suddenly transform into this man, Jiang Yuan. For no reason he could name, his heart was pierced sharply, aching terribly.

People are not such simple creatures.

There is baseness, and there is greatness; there is bold courage for the world, there is the bravery to die for one's homeland, and there is also hesitation for the sake of profit, the soft-heartedness brought on by a child's plea. But for He Ruo Qinhu, the most unforgettable years of his life were those when he was a teenager and first met Jiang Wanxiang.

Bold and open-hearted.

A full sixty-year cycle of beacon fires and battlefields — like a dream.

He Ruo Qinhu recalled the words Jiang Wanxiang had spoken several times before his death.

He had said that too many ties of connections and favors were entangled upon him, that he must not be weighed down by them. He Ruo Qinhu fell silent for a moment, thinking of that sovereign's gaze back then, and could not help suspecting that Jiang Wanxiang had already foreseen the present possibility.

"Therefore, these cursed, killable bandits and rebels can only be left to the general."

He Ruo Qinhu's thoughts returned. He said: "... Yes."

"Leave it to your subject. Please, Your Majesty, muster the troops — your subject would rather take the field."

But at that moment, He Ruo Qinhu saw a hesitant, awkward expression cross Jiang Yuan's face. The Emperor said: "The general cannot leave this place. The chaotic age rages across the realm, and the Empress is with child — what if villains were to come here?"

He Ruo Qinhu looked at Jiang Yuan.

He too was a fierce, heroic general of the battlefield. In that instant he nearly felt like throwing his head back and roaring with laughter, to shake out every craven, death-fearing thought hidden in Jiang Yuan's heart — yet all he heard was his own voice, in the silence, answering:

"The rebels are mostly common folk, coerced by hunger and thirst. They lack armor and crossbows, and have no skill in formations. They may look like a hundred thousand, but three thousand Tiger Barbarian cavalry would be more than enough to crush them easily."

"The only trouble is that these bandits are far too scattered."

"Setting aside Dou De and Shan Xiong,"

"the rest of the rabble are nothing to worry about. One need only dispatch a younger generation of the realm — commanders and generals of the Fifth and Sixth Heaven — to crush them with ease."

Jiang Yuan was overjoyed. He leaned forward, seized He Ruo Qinhu's arms with both hands, and said:

"Excellent! Excellent!"

"All matters of my realm are hereby entrusted to General He Ruo!"

He Ruo Qinhu merely nodded his assent. He was, after all, one of the top five generals under heaven. In those previous fierce, chaotic years, he had swept all before him — his only defeat, at the hands of Chen Fubi, had come from underestimating the enemy and advancing rashly.

Now, having set his mind at ease and begun to deploy his forces, he considered: if Ying's armies were to clash head-on with elite troops like the Qin Fire Qilin Army, the Gray Wolf Guard, or the Back-Wrapped Soldiers, they would naturally be no match.

But these so-called bandit rebels — what were they?!

Nothing more than wandering martial artists who knew nothing of formations, nothing more than starving common folk driven by hunger and thirst to pick up a blade and rob for food. In this chaotic age, the gap between armies was as vast as a mountain range beside the sea.

Three thousand heavy-armored Fire Qilin cavalry could rout ten thousand ordinary border troops.

Yet ordinary border troops, blade in hand, counted as first-rate fierce warriors within a city's garrison.

And even an army cobbled together around city-defense and bandit-hunting forces would still be armored, wielding blades and swords, carrying heavy shields and crossbows, with a portion of cavalry and horse-archers, led by mid-tier chaotic-age commanders of the Fifth and Sixth Heaven.

A regular army, skilled in formations, versed in array tactics and the art of war.

Against common folk — far too easy.

Soon, many of the "rebels" had been mopped up. General Ningyuan, Baili Chen, sighed: "Just starving commoners, after all. Lucky for us they're only starving commoners — if they were like the folk within Qin's borders, every one of them carrying a little Wu Gong in their bodies, then a mob this size gathering together would have been hard to fight."

"Qin Huang is, after all, a mud-legged commoner by origin."

"To think he handed out 【Blades and Swords】 to ordinary mud-legged folk."

"How dull and witless — how unlike us, who can win so easily and earn military merit?"

He had these people bound and prepared to hand over to His Majesty for judgment. When Jiang Yuan heard of the great victory, he was wild with joy and laughed aloud: "Hahaha! Marvelous, marvelous, marvelous!"

"How could these petty bandits and stubborn foes possibly stand against the heavenly soldiers of great Ying!"

Baili Chen said deferentially: "This is precisely because Your Majesty is favored by the Mandate of Heaven, where the might of General Tianwei reaches, all within the four corners bow in submission. As for these common folk, they..."

Jiang Yuan rewarded the victorious generals, and upon hearing of these rebels, said: "What common folk? They are nothing but rebels. If they are rebels and we do not kill them, how can the four corners be pacified?"

Even that general was left speechless. Just as he was about to report further, he saw Jiang Yuan pace twice and say: "That will not do. If the people of the realm see this, their resistance will only grow fiercer — would that not be a disgrace to the face of great Ying!?"

"Hear my decree!"

Jiang Yuan personally issued an imperial edict. When the generals saw its contents, their faces and bodies were still a tangle of complicated, incredulous feelings — yet under the weight of rich rewards and the Emperor's wrath, they had no choice but to bow their heads and accept the edict.

After Baili Chen and the others had shattered several "bandit armies," the remaining common folk, seeing these troops so grim and terrifying, realized that even with several times their own numbers, they had not the slightest power to resist these armored, crossbow-bearing heavy infantry drawn up in formation — they were slaughtered like melons being sliced.

Their hearts quaked with dread.

With all will to fight gone, naturally some already wished to surrender.

Some even threw down their weapons and slipped away from these gathered armies, tossing off their rebel garb, pretending to be ordinary common folk, and sneaking back home.

But the greater number were cut off by Ying's regular army.

They could not run, and could not win.

They could only stand among the hills and fields, watching the regular army outside, which after making camp advanced forward in a steady, efficient manner, their hearts trembling with fear and panic. Baili Chen sent cavalry forward, who called out:

"His Majesty the Emperor of Ying, in his magnanimity and benevolence, knows that you were but momentarily confused, coerced by others. Now, if any are willing to surrender, you may return. His Majesty will not pursue the wrongs you have committed."

"Lay down your weapons, return to the fields, and you shall still be citizens of my Great Ying."

"Still under the protection of my Great Ying!"

"If you remain obstinate, then when the heavenly troops arrive, do not blame them for showing no mercy!"

Thus the crowd was all moved, but the leader of this band of "rebels" was a martial hero at the peak of the Fifth Heaven realm, able to condense Qi into soldiers, wielding a masterful saber art, his body tempered with deep, rich internal Wu Gong; ordinary folk, even a hundred or so attacking together, would be no match for him.

But this man fell silent for a long while, gazing out at the cold, murderous gleam of blades and swords beyond.

Knowing that if things continued, his band would either be trapped in the mountains and starved to death, or slaughtered by those blades, he was silent for a long while, then gripped his weapon and said: "The common folk have come to this because of me—how could I sit idle and let them suffer so?"

"While I alone rely on my Wu Gong to survive?"

Then he shouted toward Baili Chen: "How do we know that what you say is true!"

Baili Chen raised a scroll of bright yellow and pale jade in his hand and cried aloud:

"I bear the sacred edict of His Majesty, the great Emperor of Ying!"

"A golden mouth and jade words—how could they be false?!"

Jiang Yuan gave the order, summoning those who had surrendered first to burn incense and swear an oath before the auspicious statue at Tongxuan Temple.

Those who surrendered were promised they would not be killed.

Even that martial hero was not slain; many other rebel soldiers who had been forced into desperation, upon hearing this, within a fortnight or so, surrendered nearly to the last man.

Jiang Yuan had them all buried alive at Huangting Stream.

The dead numbered more than thirty thousand.

The dying cried out: "Your Majesty the Emperor—how can you speak and then break your word?!"

Baili Chen answered with Jiang Yuan's own reply: "Do you not know what the art of war says—that in war, there is no limit to deception?!"

That righteous rebel commander who had surrendered for the sake of ordinary folk, grief-stricken and furious, flung aside his saber and roared: "Just as the world has long said—he is no Son of Heaven, he is a 【Counterfeit Emperor】!"

Baili Chen's face turned pale with shock; the surrounding Captains covered their ears and lowered their heads, daring not to look. Baili Chen himself took up bow and arrows, shot that great fellow dead on the spot for uttering such treasonous words, and had him buried under yellow earth.

More than thirty thousand souls, all buried alive.

Dou De, upon hearing this, was silent for a long while, then said: "Only now do I understand what Qin Huang said—that peaceful days cannot be won through surrender and promises, only through blades." After this affair, the words 【Counterfeit Son of Heaven】 spread like wildfire across the realm.

And as for what happened to that band of rebels afterward, in the annals of history, the historian's brush is like a blade.

The Grand Historian Sa Atandi recorded—

【Thus the remaining partisans once again gathered as bandits, and the imperial army could not subdue them, until at last the realm was wholly pacified】.

Within the Ying imperial palace, Jiang Yuan was exceedingly proud of his own stratagem; he drank and made merry, feasting his officials, and laughed aloud: "Such is the principle that in war there is no limit to deception—the art of the strategist, I too understand it."

"The world all says I inherited my throne and possess the Four Seas by virtue of my forebears; but even if I were set among the lords of the realm to be chosen by merit, I would still be the Son of Heaven!"

Wei Yiwen, seething with indignation, merely flung up his sleeves and left; He Ruo Qinhu was silent for a long while.

Killing surrendered foes—yes, it is killing surrendered foes, but, but…

His fists slowly tightened, knuckles creaking.

He heard a soft, beautiful voice: "Father…"

He Ruo Qinhu's fists, and the flame of anger and unwillingness that belonged to a general of the military arts, froze at those two words. He raised his head and saw, beside the Emperor, his own daughter—a woman of bearing fit to be a mother to the realm—looking at him with an imploring expression.

After a long while, He Ruo Qinhu's fists slowly loosened; his hand dropped.

It fell heavily onto the table, then he picked up his wine cup and drank it down in one gulp.

Killing surrendered foes—though it is shameless, it is, after all, upon the battlefield.

But, was that truly surrender?

After all, this was a vast empire. Jiang Yuan had driven out forces from every quarter, swept clean a portion of the realm's rebels, and then issued another order—【When Yu Langwang besieged the Eastern Capital, he opened the granaries to relieve the common folk. All who received the rice were buried alive south of Ducheng】.

When this order was passed down, many felt it was cruel—but only felt it so.

After all, those who needed to accept grain from Yu Langwang were none other than people driven to the end of their rope. Wei Yiwen suddenly overturned the table and roared: "Absurd! Absurd!!!"

He could bear it no longer.

What damned Wenzheng!

His mother's Wenzheng!

He rode out to seek He Ruo Qinhu, but He Ruo Qinhu had been invited by the Empress into the palace for a banquet. Wei Yiwen stood before the general's residence, feeling only that his hands were icy and his whole body had lost its strength.

He Ruo Qinhu!

He wrote a letter to the Grand Tutor Jiang Su.

Jiang Su received the letter.

This god of war had at that time just returned from a clash with Qin Huang, withdrawing his troops. A scout delivered the letter Wei Yiwen had sent; Jiang Su unfolded it, and both his remaining good eye and the eye carved from mechanical jade reflected those characters.

Wei Yiwen's brush was sharp and fierce, his style grand and stirring—famed throughout his age.

But the strokes of this letter trembled.

One could imagine how Wei Yiwen suffered, struggled, and raged as he wrote this scroll.

Wei Yiwen hoped Jiang Su would return.

Having sought He Ruo Qinhu without reply, he had no choice but to seek out Jiang Su.

He said he would stop at nothing—even if it meant angering Jiang Yuan to the point of death—he would delay this matter. He begged Grand Tutor Jiang Su to turn back, or at the very least, to write a letter to curb Jiang Yuan's wanton misdeeds.

Jiang Su calmly set the letter alight over a flame; the fire reflected in his eyes. The deputy general beside him was silent, then asked: "Is it because, Grand Tutor, that the battle of Yu Langwang in years past led to today's predicament, and so the common folk are implicated?"

The light of the fire reflected in Jiang Su's gaze as he said: "No."

"The common folk accepted Yu Langwang's grain because they could not fill their bellies."

"It is our own failing—how could we resent them for accepting Yu Langwang's grain? To demand of starving common folk the loyalty of ministers who would die for their country is, from the start, an absurdity."

The deputy general, also a famed general of the Seventh Heaven realm, ranked nineteenth, said in puzzlement:

"But if that is so, why does the Grand Tutor not return?"

Jiang Su gazed into the distance, at the crimson Fire Qilin-patterned military banners spread between heaven and earth; the firelight at the edge of his vision seemed to mingle with those banners of the Qilin army, blazing fierce as a wildfire. Jiang Su said:

"I am waiting…"

The firelight in Jiang Su's eyes brightened, flickering for a moment.

………

Jiang Gao was reminded by Wei Yiwen to go intercept the Ying army.

Wei Yiwen kowed, tears streaming down his face: "At this moment only you can stop these soldiers, Your Highness. How can blades be swung over the heads of common folk merely because they wished to eat a full meal?"

This old minister's heart ached to the core, tears streaming down his face. He had a heart for pursuing fame, yet also a yearning for Jiang Wanxiang's grand ambitions. Now he struggled, but in the end, amid Jiang Yuan's one absurdity after another, he made his decision.

"This old minister will also do his utmost to stop it. Your Highness, please, you must act."

Wei Yiwen hurried off, wanting to use his authority as Chancellor to interfere in this matter, at least to suppress and delay it. Jiang Gao personally led his remaining trusted followers, rushing to one side of Ducheng, and saw what looked like a hell on earth.

He saw the common folk bound, pushed toward the pits.

The bottom line in the heart of this gentleman, who had always been gentle as jade and longed for familial affection, finally collapsed. A surge of fiery rage rose up, and instinctively he seized the bow at his warhorse's side, drew the bow, and loosed an arrow.

That banner with the azure dragon pattern was actually shot through and broken by this arrow.

Crash—

The great azure dragon banner tumbled down as it was, knocking over many people. This commotion was loud enough to draw everyone's gaze instinctively back, and they saw Jiang Gao gripping the bow, face flushed red, eyes nearly spewing fire.

"What are you doing!!!"

The leading general bowed and answered: "The late Emperor's downfall was all because of Chen Fubi's affair back then, and these wretches!" He pointed at the people who had been bound and thrown into the ditch, saying: "They actually followed behind Chen Fubi and stormed the prefectural city."

"They broke open our great Ying's granaries and recklessly carried off the grain."

"Such conduct—if not punished severely, how could the world know the might of our great Ying?! This is by Your Majesty's command, to deal with such people."

"Deal with?!"

These two words, once they reached his ears, were truly not pleasant to hear.

They were even extremely grating. Jiang Gao's gaze slowly lowered, looking at these common folk—men, women, old and young—all with panicked expressions, clutching one another. Children's wailing, women's sobbing, men's roars, all gathered together.

It was precisely the flame of troubled times.

And all these myriad scenes reflected in Jiang Gao's eyes, finally making his heart begin to beat in fury. The sorrow of ten thousand people converged into a torrent. Jiang Gao's temples pulsed, and when his gaze swept over, that general's heart involuntarily shuddered.

As if facing an enraged dragon.

"What absurd decree is this!"

"Since the late Emperor never issued such an order, how dare you act like this!"

The general cupped his hands and said: "It is Your Majesty's command."

Jiang Gao took a deep breath and said: "Stop."

The general only said: "Your Majesty's command—without the imperial edict in writing, if I stop, I'm afraid my entire family will be buried alive as well. Truly, I cannot agree."

Jiang Gao said: "Even if it is I?"

The general bowed and answered in a low voice: "This general can temporarily halt. I ask Your Highness to return to the palace and obtain Your Majesty's written edict, and then I will naturally cease. To speak plainly, burying people alive—burying a batch of starving people alive—is not a pleasant task."

"If Your Highness wishes to persuade Your Majesty to change his mind, please be quick."

He raised a finger and pointed at the sky, saying: "At noon, they will be buried."

Jiang Gao's gaze turned icy. He turned to look at the imperial palace within the Ying capital. Since the matter of Qin Yulong, he had never again gone to the palace. He had always harbored wariness toward his younger brother, but at this moment, he could not afford not to go.

He looked at the captured common folk and said softly: "Don't worry. Don't be afraid."

"Even if I die."

"I will still bring that imperial edict!"

He turned and rode into the palace, galloping all the way. The heart of the once gentle gentleman began to crack and transform. Those who seek fame are shackled by fame; those who seek beauty are shackled by beauty.

But those who act for the people transform because of the people's suffering under heaven.

For the first time since his birth, Jiang Gao was so furious. When he burst into the palace, he heard within—banquets and laughter—which fell on his ears as so grating. He walked slowly upward, seeing his younger brother in imperial robes, laughing heartily there.

All around were the close ministers and officials he himself had promoted.

Jiang Gao's fists clenched, sleeves billowing, he strode in. Jiang Yuan had long since spotted his elder brother and laughed loudly: "Who is this coming? Isn't this my good elder brother?!"

"Hahahaha, King Zhao, you and I, brothers, have not met for years."

"If later generations were to know, they'd think I meant to kill you."

Jiang Gao said: "Why bury the common folk alive."

Jiang Yuan said: "Just a bunch of traitorous rabble, a few ten thousand households at most. Killing the chicken to scare the monkey—that's how one pacifies the realm."

Jiang Gao was so angry he nearly laughed. He had no interest in saying anything to his younger brother, no interest in lecturing him. He already knew that some people cannot be persuaded—or rather—

A person can never persuade another person.

He only said: "I know what you're thinking."

"Release the common folk, and I am at your disposal."

Jiang Yuan gazed at Jiang Gao and said: "Good!"

"I feel that between you and me, brothers, we need not be so distant. After this, brother, you shall reside in the palace's side quarters. I have prepared maids and attendants for you. We are of one mother—we can see each other every day."

"Now, drink to the full!"

Jiang Yuan waved his hand, and already an attendant brought a cup of wine.

Jiang Yuan's finger pressed against this rosewood tray and the fine jade wine vessel atop it, saying:

"Please, brother, drink this cup to the full."

Jiang Gao looked at that cup of wine. His intelligence had already guessed that the wine within must certainly be tampered with. He slowly extended his hand: "Write the imperial edict immediately. Once the edict is issued and the common folk are safe, I will drink the wine, in celebration."

Jiang Yuan said: "Good!"

He immediately wielded his brush and wrote the edict, casually tossing the brush aside, seizing the edict and handing it to the side, saying: "Go proclaim the edict!" A eunuch took the edict and hurried off. Jiang Yuan raised his hand, inviting Jiang Gao to drink.

Jiang Gao already understood.

This mass burial of common folk was for himself.

Otherwise, why would they have needed to bury these commoners alive south of Ducheng; the reason such a thing was done near Ducheng was to set a trap for Jiang Gao, to lure Jiang Gao, who had been hiding for years, into the palace himself.

This younger brother of his was far cleverer than the world at large perceived.

Far cleverer.

Promoting new close ministers, suppressing and drawing over Wei Yiwen, He Ruo Qinhu—nearly the entire court was in his palm.

But this cleverness had only been applied to such matters.

But this world—

Was not only the State of Ying!

What a pity, what a lament, what a hatred.

Jiang Gao set the wine cup against his own lips.

A faint smile surfaced on Jiang Yuan's face.

Everyone around watched him; even the sound of strings and pipes fell silent. Jiang Gao closed his eyes, and everything of these past years flashed before him—Qin Yulong, dispatching troops, the canal, the commoners, the mass burial, the rebels, the gentleman, the gentleman…

A fire burned in his chest.

That fire, and the longing for kinship, the adorable face of his little brother in childhood, all gathered together and finally became a single mass of chaotic blaze—everything Jiang Gao cared about.

That gentlemanly air, piece by piece, shattered on his body.

All the ministers watched this scene. The next moment, just as this warm, gentle gentleman was about to drink, Jiang Gao gripped the wine cup and flicked his wrist.

The wine cup flew like a stone, hurled violently forward.

Smashed straight at Jiang Yuan.

Jiang Yuan recoiled in shock, dodging the cup; the wine splashed onto the ground, a reek of blood. But Jiang Gao had already lunged forward, seized a guard's sword, and wrenched it free in a single motion—the sound of the blade leaving its sheath ringing out like a dragon's cry.

Candlelight, firelight, shadows.

People are never unchanging—never have been.

The light of the flames reflected in Jiang Gao's eyes.

Like the fire of a chaotic age, like a fierce blazing heart, and like that single spark of firelight that Jiang Su had been waiting for through four years of lying low.

Jiang Wanxiang's fire.

At last, on Jiang Gao's body, it was completely ignited.

In an age of chaos, the gentleman transforms like the leopard.

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