Chapter 196: Catch the Traitor

Jiang Mingyu knelt on blood-red earth, eyes vacant, lips trembling, body shaking. He numbly gripped his hair, filled with guilt and anguish. Tears fell like rain, staining the ground red.

Just moments ago, the camp teemed with life; now, only charred soil and bones remained. His soldiers lay dead in pools of blood, powerless to save them. Jiang Mingyu's heart shattered—this was all his responsibility.

If only he'd posted more sentries, if only he'd marched more cautiously, if only he'd spotted the enemy sooner, perhaps this tragedy could have been avoided. The consequence of a single misstep left Jiang Mingyu consumed by regret.

Figures of Tukeslu and Zhang Jiani flashed endlessly in his mind. Were they still alive? Could they return? The thought that they might already have burned to death pierced his heart like a thousand blades, bleeding profusely.

"My lord, we must leave this place quickly," a soldier ventured cautiously.

Jiang Mingyu snapped his head up, eyes bloodshot; the soldier shuddered involuntarily.

At that moment, a faint moan emerged from the bushes: "My lord… is that you?"

Jiang Mingyu's heart leapt—that voice he knew too well—it was Tukeslu!

Jiang Mingyu rushed forward in three strides and saw Tukeslu, drenched in blood, swaying on his feet. Blood dripped steadily from his wounded arm—one drop, then another. On his back lay Zhang Jiani, unconscious and motionless.

"My lord, are you alright?" Tukeslu whispered weakly. Jiang Mingyu, eyes red, stepped forward two paces. "You're alive—thank heaven, thank heaven." He embraced Tukeslu tightly, feeling his warmth. But then he noticed no one else stood behind him. He gasped for breath, voice breaking: "My… my lord… I drove off the enemy… the brothers… all fell… I'm useless…" Jiang Mingyu shook his head frantically.

"No—your return is the best news of all." He patted Tukeslu's shoulder reassuringly, gazing at him with relief.

Tukeslu gave a bitter smile. "I… confirmed it—the raiders… were… Wang Jingchun's men." He spat the enemy's name with venom.

Looking at Zhang Jiani, barely breathing, Jiang Mingyu nodded urgently. "I already suspected as much. Let's not speak of it." His voice softened with sorrow.

"Jiani is critically wounded. Rest here—I'll find horses and take you back to the state capital immediately." He resolved to return them for treatment without delay. Then he turned and left to search for mounts.

Jiang Mingyu's heart felt torn apart—he could not believe his main camp had been ambushed, his ten-thousand-strong army annihilated.

He was left with only a few hundred broken soldiers, and Tukeslu and Jiani, both gravely wounded. He did not know who was responsible, nor why this had happened. He knew only one thing—he must save them, or what meaning was there in his own life?

He sprinted desperately toward the battlefield, ignoring the soldiers' pleas to stop. His vision was red; his ears rang with cries and wails.

His heart burned with rage and grief; his body bore only wounds and sweat.

Jiang Mingyu staggered into the ruins of last night's battle—it had become a living hell.

Corpses and severed limbs littered the ground; some still smoked faintly.

Once-neat barracks now stood as twisted, charred tent frames, reeking of sharp, metallic blood.

Jiang Mingyu clenched his teeth, eyes bloodshot, scouring the ruins. He had to find usable warhorses—these were the only hope for Tukeslu and Jiani's survival.

Finally, beside a burned-out tent ruin, Jiang Mingyu spotted several wounded warhorses. They neighed in terror, their fur blackened by fire, drenched in blood—but their lives seemed intact.

Jiang Mingyu hurried forward, stroking them gently, soothing them with calm words. He examined their wounds, selected the healthiest few, and gave each water and fodder.

"My friends, please save my family," Jiang Mingyu pleaded, eyes red with tears.

At last, he carefully lifted Tukeslu and Jiani onto the horses' backs. The air still carried the stench of charred corpses, but Jiang Mingyu paid no heed—he spurred the horses into a gallop toward the state capital, his mind fixed on one thought: he must save them!

After a devastating defeat, Jiang Mingyu and his men returned to the state capital, their bodies battered and broken.

Tukeslu had barely survived, but his wounds were severe—he lay unconscious. Zhang Jiani was worse: pale as death, breathing faint as a thread.

As soon as they entered the mansion, Liu Yifei rushed forward. Seeing her friend Zhang Jiani on the brink of death, she burst into tears and collapsed beside her, wailing.

"Jiani, don't leave me alone! We grew up together—how can you just go like this?!" Liu Yifei screamed, clutching Jiani's icy hand.

Jiang Mingyu's heart bled—guilt and anguish churned inside him. Eyes red, he told Liu Yifei: "It's all my fault—I failed Jiani and Tukeslu, and lost every one of my soldiers…"

He stared at Jiani's pale face, drowning in regret and shame. He remembered her shielding him from the blade, remembered her devotion and loyalty to him.

He wished he could die in her place.

Liu Yifei shook her head, stopping him. Her eyes were red. "This isn't the time for blame—what matters is saving Jiani! Physician, you must bring her back!"

She turned to the physician rushing in, urgent: "Doctor, can she be saved?"

After examining her, the physician spoke heavily: "The girl's wounds are too grave—the arrow pierced her lung. I will do all I can."

He began treatment: extracting the arrow, stopping the bleeding, bandaging, and forcing medicine down her throat.

Jiang Mingyu and Liu Yifei waited anxiously by her side, praying heaven would spare her life.

Zhang Jiaqi watched her sister lying on the bed, barely breathing, her heart shattering. Tears streamed down her face. She leapt to her feet, drew her sword, and moved to storm out.

"Jiaqi, where are you going?!" Zhang Junhao blocked her path.

Zhang Jiaqi, eyes blazing, screamed: "I'm going to kill that beast Wang Jingchun! He's left my sister dying—I'll rip him apart!"

She wrenched free of Zhang Junhao's grip, eyes filled with murderous intent. She longed to rush to Wang Jingchun's side and carve him into a thousand pieces.

Zhang Junhao watched her with pity, whispering gently: "Calm down—you'll only die. Wait until Jiani wakes—we'll plan then."

Zhang Jiaqi's tears fell, but her sword still pointed toward the door. She could not forgive Wang Jingchun. She could not lose her sister and brother-in-law—she had to do something for them.

Then Jiang Mingyu stepped forward, solemnly addressing her:

"Jiaqi, rest assured—I will avenge Jiani. When her condition stabilizes, I will lead the army to crush Wang Jingchun and bring his head to you both."

Zhang Jiaqi met Jiang Mingyu's resolute gaze, slowly lowered her sword, and choked out: "Good. I'm coming with you—I'll kill that beast myself. He owes my sister this."

Jiang Mingyu nodded firmly, gripping her hand: "Agreed! We will make Wang Jingchun pay with blood!"

He stared at Zhang Jiani lying on the bed, expression grim.

Jiang Mingyu and Zhuge Yu sat in the side hall, fine snow drifting outside. Both bore heavy shadows under their eyes—disturbed by the recent disaster. Their gazes burned with resentment and fury, as if blaming themselves for failing to see the enemy's trap.

Zhuge Yu's face was grave, his voice heavy: "Master, I believe this ambush was orchestrated by a traitor within our ranks. We must uncover the truth swiftly—else the consequences will be endless." His voice trembled, clearly agitated.

Jiang Mingyu straightened, brow furrowed: "How can you be certain? Our movements were secret. Wang Jingchun isn't omniscient—how could he know our plans?"

Zhuge Yu paced slowly, each word deliberate: "Master, listen. Lingna has three possible routes. How did Wang Jingchun know exactly which path we took? He's merely a city lord—without an inside informant, how could he dare attack Tukeslu's famed army?"

Jiang Mingyu fell silent for a moment, then nodded: "That makes sense. Wang Jingchun lacks the courage to strike so boldly on his own. He must have received secret guidance—and support."

Zhuge Yu continued: "Moreover, we've taken Luoxie and Chuyun. Wang Jingchun knows he's outmatched—he should be begging for peace, not launching an attack. Master, only a handful of us knew our troop movements and strategy. The only explanation for his perfect knowledge is an inside traitor." A cold glint flashed in his eyes—he had already narrowed his suspicions.

Jiang Mingyu sat in silence for a long while, then sighed deeply: "Your analysis is sound. I've felt something foul lurking behind this. This defeat… carries too many hidden meanings." A fire of rage rose within him—he longed to carve the traitor into a thousand pieces.

His eyes flashed with cold light. "If we don't root out this traitor, our army will never fight in peace. We must find this worm—before it poisons us further." His voice carried a killing edge—he had made his decision.

"But as you say," Zhuge Yu asked anxiously, "how do we expose him? This won't be easy—he's hidden too well."

Jiang Mingyu shook his head: "If we don't resolve this soon, future losses will be incalculable." His brow tightened—he was deeply troubled.

Zhuge Yu frowned, silent. He had no solution, only endless thought.

"This is a problem," Zhuge Yu muttered. "We can't just kill them all, can we?" He hated the traitor, but didn't want to slaughter innocents—such cruelty would shatter the army's morale.

Killing innocents was out of the question. Then Jiang Mingyu's eyes lit up.

"I have a plan," he said with a sly smile. "We'll use deception against deception—let the traitor expose himself."

Zhuge Yu gasped. "What plan? Master, reveal it!"

Jiang Mingyu leaned close, whispered a few words. Zhuge Yu slapped his knee in awe: "Master, you're brilliant! This plan is perfect! If we follow your instructions, the traitor will surely reveal himself!"

Jiang Mingyu smiled. "Then act quickly—time is short. Remember: only you and I know this. Not a word must leak."

Zhuge Yu nodded and hurried off. Jiang Mingyu sat back, closed his eyes, and waited for the traitor to unravel himself.