Chapter 323: The Missing Spy or the One Who Foresees the Future

After returning to the main camp, Tukesulu immediately requested an audience with Jiang Mingyu and recounted the disastrous failure of the night raid. Jiang Mingyu fell silent for a moment, then sighed deeply: “Our army was ambushed by Situ Hesong—this enemy is calculating and far from ordinary. This matter demands our utmost attention. Fang Hang, what do you think...”

“Your Majesty, I too am deeply astonished,” Fang Hang said, stroking his beard. “Our troops have always maintained strict discipline and never provoked the locals. How could there still be a traitor colluding with the enemy? This must be investigated thoroughly, lest morale collapse.”

Tukesulu’s face turned ashen, his teeth clenched: “Brother, we can’t let this slide! Five thousand elite troops lost for nothing—unless I avenge this, I’ll never call myself a man!”

“Enough, Tukesulu. I understand your rage,” Jiang Mingyu said, patting his brother’s shoulder. “But now is not the time. We must remain clear-headed and rational. If we respond rashly, we’ll only blind ourselves—and Situ Hesong will strike while we’re vulnerable.”

Tukesulu wrung his hands in anguish: “Brother, this is all my fault. You’ve always taught me well, and I’ve remembered every word—but this time, I was careless! Such a catastrophic loss dishonors our soldiers...”

“It’s my own recklessness that hasn’t changed—I’m still the same impulsive Tukesulu! If only I’d listened to Fang Hang’s advice and not taken that gamble, none of this would’ve happened...” His eyes grew red. Fang Hang hurried to console him: “Your Highness, don’t blame yourself. This was a collective decision, and the enemy’s scheme was too subtle and cunning—we were all deceived.”

Jiang Mingyu nodded knowingly: “Exactly. Now is not the time to shift blame. We must unite, turn danger into safety, and reverse this situation. Tukesulu, repeat every word Situ Hesong said—was there anything suspicious?”

At this, Tukesulu steadied himself and strained to recall: “Brother, I remember Situ Hesong muttered something as he left—something about ‘everything being within Tuoba Jiqian’s expectations.’” The three exchanged glances, each seeing shock and doubt in the others’ eyes.

“Could there truly be a spy from Western Xia in our ranks?”

When the grain supply intelligence was transmitted, Jiang Mingyu had already screened every soldier in the camp.

Anyone even slightly suspicious had been interrogated under torture, and he was certain all moles had been rooted out.

But if that was true, how was today’s secret leaked?

To claim Western Xia stumbled upon it by accident is absurd—who burns hot oil in advance by accident?

Could this unknown spy have infiltrated the camp during our rest at Yingyuan?

After much thought, Jiang Mingyu still couldn’t figure it out.

“Strange—how could the perimeter be so tightly guarded, yet not a single clue surface?” Jiang Mingyu paced inside his tent, muttering to himself.

“Brother, don’t panic. There must be something amiss. Let’s re-examine everything carefully,” Tukesulu urged.

“Your Majesty, I suspect the enemy is using some special method of communication, which is why we detected nothing,” Fang Hang nodded.

Jiang Mingyu fell silent for a moment, then his sharp gaze swept the room: “There’s no other option. It seems the enemy is far more formidable than we imagined—we must act with even greater caution.”

At dawn the next day, patrol units returned in waves—but all wore blank expressions. Nothing found.

“How is this possible! This makes no sense!” The junior captain on night watch paced frantically.

“Staring at me won’t help—I’ve checked every corner, and found no suspicious individuals,” the patrolmen replied helplessly.

The junior captain, eyes red, reported back to Jiang Mingyu. The latter’s suspicions deepened further.

At that moment, a scholar-looking scout burst in, breathless: “Report, Your Majesty! We captured a suspicious individual on a forest path and are bringing him here!”

“Perfect!” Jiang Mingyu’s eyes lit up. “Quick—prepare the interrogation tools!”

When the “suspicious individual” was dragged in, bound and gagged, everyone felt disappointed—he was merely a thin, middle-aged man, utterly unremarkable, nothing like a spy.

The man knelt and cried out: “Your Majesty, I beg you to see—I’m just a pharmacist’s son. I entered this area only to gather herbs...” Jiang Mingyu cut him off coldly: “Gather herbs? Our army is on the brink of battle, thousands of miles from home—and you dare wander alone into the woods?”

The man turned pale, stammering in defense—but nothing on him was suspicious. Jiang Mingyu couldn’t press further. He waved his hand: “Detain him for now. Wait until the truth is uncovered. Junior captain—issue orders: full camp lockdown. Scrutinize every suspicious person!”

The junior captain bowed and turned to leave—when suddenly, commotion erupted outside the tent. Another scout returned—still nothing found.

As the sun rose higher, all patrol units reported back—still no progress. Jiang Mingyu paced like a crow on burning coals, sweat drenching his back. He slammed his fist on the table, startling even Fang Hang and Tukesulu.

“Could it really be just this herbalist? Impossible!” Jiang Mingyu dismissed the others, lowering his voice to the two: “The enemy’s scheme is too deep—we’ve been toyed with.” He drained a large bowl of tea as if trying to smother the fire in his chest.

Jiang Mingyu stood in his tent, sword in hand, brow furrowed. He hadn’t slept for two days and two nights—his mind filled only with this inexplicable traitor.

“Brother, it’s dawn again. Still no movement,” Tukesulu entered.

Jiang Mingyu snorted: “Isn’t it obvious? Someone’s mocking me!”

“But we’ve searched repeatedly—we truly found no spy.”

“Then there’s only one possibility: someone in Western Xia’s army knows my tactics inside out. This heavy loss? They knew I’d strike immediately!” Jiang Mingyu swung his sword, driving it into a nearby flagpole.

Tukesulu frowned: “But all your generals are loyal. How could there be a traitor?”

Jiang Mingyu paused, his face darkening: “I recall—during our previous campaign against Western Xia, several prisoners served under me. One, Yang Yongfu, had exceptional military talent. Later, he vanished without a trace. Could it be...”

“Yang Yongfu?” Tukesulu thought. “I thought he died in a night raid.”

“Died?” Jiang Mingyu sneered. “Who saw his body? Western Xia spies are masters of disguise and concealment.”

Tukesulu paced anxiously: “Even if it were Yang Yongfu, how could he possibly predict every one of your battle decisions? It’s as if he foresaw them!”

Jiang Mingyu’s face was grim. He stabbed his sword again into the map: “No matter what—Tanzhou will burn! I won’t let this opportunity slip away!”

“But brother, if the enemy is already prepared...”

“I never retreat!” Jiang Mingyu exploded. “Even if Situ Hesong’s defenses are ironclad, I’ll level Tanzhou to the ground! Order the troops to prepare more tung oil arrows! The north wind howls, the air is dry—tonight, I’ll burn Tanzhou to ashes!”

Tukesulu opened his mouth to protest, then sighed. His brother was stubborn—once he made up his mind, even nine oxen couldn’t pull him back.

Jiang Mingyu thought long before speaking.

“Perhaps the spies have hidden themselves, waiting for us to lower our guard before slipping out to report.”

“Then keep the troops watching. If there’s still no movement by dawn, proceed with the plan and attack Tanzhou.”

Tukesulu nodded.

“Don’t worry, brother—I’ve already given the orders.”

Jiang Mingyu’s face was as dark as ink. He stared at Tanzhou on the map, his mind racing. “Yang Yongfu” didn’t matter—the terrifying truth was that every decision he made, every troop movement, was anticipated and exploited. This wasn’t human—it was as if they could read his mind!

“Could Tuoba Jiqian truly possess the power of foreknowledge?”

“Foreknowledge? Who are you talking about, brother?” Tukesulu asked, confused.

“Forget it. Right now, I only want to burn Tanzhou!” Jiang Mingyu snapped.

Soon, four hundred thousand troops stood ready. The north wind howled, the sky thickening with the promise of fire. Jiang Mingyu stood atop a high hill, gazing far ahead, eyes like lightning.

“Advance!”

A vast tide of iron cavalry surged over mountains and valleys, heading straight for the gates of Tanzhou. Jiang Mingyu whispered to himself: Will Tuoba Jiqian truly see my resolve? Even if he’s a prophet—I’ll still reduce Tanzhou to ashes!