Chapter 328: Bandits Storm the Camp

Jiang Mingyu couldn’t sleep all night, his mind filled with the beautiful yet venomous face of Zhang Jiaqi. He had already married his beloved Liu Yifei, yet he still couldn’t forget the woman who had once fought beside him.

“Jiaqi, what are you thinking?” Jiang Mingyu whispered to himself. “Why are you against me? We were once so in sync, facing life and death together. Was all of it fake?”

He recalled that dream in Jizhou city—Zhang Jiaqi appeared before him in foreign attire, her expression haughty. That dream had clearly foretold it: Jiaqi would become his enemy.

“But I can’t bear to hurt you...” Jiang Mingyu’s voice was filled with pain. “I wish we could still love and cling to each other as before.”

At that moment, a gust of wind sounded outside the window. Jiang Mingyu shuddered. The wind seemed to whisper: “I will make you pay...”

“Jiaqi!” Jiang Mingyu sat up abruptly—he had clearly heard Zhang Jiaqi’s voice.

Jiang Mingyu steadied himself, shaking his head in self-mockery. It was only the wind outside. How could it be Jiaqi? He was clearly missing her too much, losing his sanity.

“Forget it. I’ll go for a walk in the garden—maybe it’ll clear my mind.” Jiang Mingyu pulled on his outer robe and stepped into the courtyard.

The night was vast and hazy, a thin mist blanketing heaven and earth. Jiang Mingyu walked alone along the path, his expression desolate.

“Jiaqi, I miss you so much. If only time could reverse, I would grip your hand tightly and never let go...”

“Hahaha, so you regret it now?” A cold female voice sounded beside his ear.

Jiang Mingyu spun around—emerging from the mist was a familiar figure: Zhang Jiaqi, Princess of Xixia!

She remained as breathtakingly beautiful as ever, clad in lavish Xixia court robes, a faint smile on her lips.

“Jiaqi—is that really you?!” Jiang Mingyu stared at her in disbelief.

“Of course it’s me, dear Jiang Mingyu. Did you think you could forget me?” Zhang Jiaqi stepped closer to him.

“But... but you’ve become the Princess of Xixia... we can never be together again.” Jiang Mingyu spoke through pain.

“Jiang Mingyu, tell me—are you sorry now? Sorry you abandoned me?” Zhang Jiaqi lifted his chin.

“I...” Jiang Mingyu choked, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m truly sorry...”

Zhang Jiaqi let out a light laugh. “I still love you too, unfortunately, it’s too late. I’ve married the Xixia Emperor, and you have your own Empress. There’s no future for us.”

“No! This can’t be!” Jiang Mingyu gripped her hand tightly. “I won’t let you leave me a second time! Jiaqi, come with me—let’s start over together!”

“Fool, we’re no longer masters of our own fate.” Zhang Jiaqi smiled sadly. “We chose this path ourselves. Regret now changes nothing.”

“Jiaqi...” Jiang Mingyu embraced her, tears falling into her hair.

“Let go, Mingyu.” Zhang Jiaqi stepped back, slowly dissolving into the mist. “We can never be together. This is fate. Take care...”

“Jiaqi!!” Jiang Mingyu reached out, grasping only a handful of mist. Zhang Jiaqi had vanished without a trace.

“No!!!!” Jiang Mingyu collapsed to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.

At that moment, Jiang Mingyu jolted awake from his dream. All of it had been a hallucination born of his endless longing—his final meeting with Jiaqi still existed only in that parting dream...

The next day, Jiang Mingyu remained dazed and listless, utterly drained of energy.

At night, utterly exhausted, he finally closed his eyes and fell into deep sleep.

The night on the Xixia wasteland was cold and dark, wind howling, frost biting. A band of Xixia bandits crept silently onto the hill behind Jiang Mingyu’s camp, watching the faint lights within.

Their leader was a dark-faced man with slanted eyes, his face weathered by years of hardship. He was the chief of this band—Shi Gandang.

“Sir, this is definitely Jiang Mingyu’s camp,” a subordinate whispered in confirmation.

Shi Gandang grinned, his yellow teeth grotesque in the dark. “Of course! I saw Jiang Mingyu’s hateful face with my own eyes! This time, we won’t be wrong!”

“Then what are you planning to do, sir?” another subordinate asked, puzzled.

“What am I going to do?” Shi Gandang sneered. “What else? Go to Jiang Mingyu’s camp and take some grain! My men have been half-dead with hunger—I must find them food!”

“But... but Jiang Mingyu has three hundred thousand troops!” one bandit cried in fear. “We can’t possibly fight them!”

“Relax! I’ve had men spying—most of Jiang Mingyu’s troops are exhausted. Listen—they’re snoring like dead pigs!” Shi Gandang pointed to the dark camp, where heavy snores echoed.

Hearing this, the men’s stomachs growled. Hunger stripped them of reason—they only wanted food, no matter the cost.

“Enough talk! Follow me closely. Slip around to the back of the camp, head straight for the rear granary. I bet the grain’s there.” Shi Gandang whispered. “Strike fast, grab the grain, and run—don’t draw attention!”

The men nodded eagerly, their eyes gleaming with malice. Their empty stomachs drove them to storm Jiang Mingyu’s camp—even if it cost them their lives.

At that moment, the wind carried the faint sound of hooves—it was Jiang Mingyu’s patrol guard. Shi Gandang and his men instantly hid behind trees, holding their breath.

Once the guard passed, the Xixia bandits crept cautiously from their hiding spots.

“Come on, follow me!” Shi Gandang crouched low, leading them toward the rear of the camp.

The autumn moon rose from behind the clouds, casting light on the hillside—revealing the bandits’ silhouettes. Luckily, no one spotted them. Shi Gandang exhaled in relief and quickened his pace.

The Xixia bandits slipped silently into the rear camp of Jiang Mingyu’s army, moving through the dim tents. They finally spotted the rear granary. Shi Gandang’s eyes lit up—he swiftly pried open the lock with a hooked iron...

Fate had turned against them—after the events of the past two days, Tukesulu had still not slept.

He had been pondering how to comfort Jiang Mingyu, but unsure how to begin, he stepped out of his tent for a stroll.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, Tukesulu found himself inexplicably drawn to the rear camp where grain was stored.

He glanced at the quiet night sky, then turned to leave—but suddenly froze.

He clearly heard, from the darkness nearby, faint footsteps moving toward him.

After traveling for half a month without seeing a single living soul, Tukesulu frowned slightly.

“What’s going on?”

At that moment, Tukesulu’s eyelid twitched—he recognized them instantly: these were ordinary bandits come to steal grain.

“So it’s just some nobodies? How boring!” Tukesulu muttered inwardly. But then he thought: even a mosquito is meat—perfect for a meal.

The bandit chief, meanwhile, was pacing frantically among the granaries, growing more furious. “Damn it! Where the hell did they hide the grain? Find it, now!”

His men grew anxious, terrified of being discovered by Jiang Mingyu’s troops.

“Boss, let’s get out of here. This place is too big—we’ll never find the grain!” one bandit suggested.

“Shut up about leaving! I’m finding that grain—or we’ll starve to death in the wilderness!” Shi Gandang snarled. “You brats, search every damn corner!”

The men had no choice but to scour the area. Hours passed. They found nothing. All grew desperate.

“Damn it! Where the hell is it?!” Shi Gandang exploded. “Jiang Mingyu hid the grain too well—we’re done! Retreat!”

The men sighed in relief, turning to leave—when a cold laugh echoed behind them: “Leave? Not so easily.”

Tukesulu and his men had surrounded them from all sides, cutting off every escape.

“You bandits dare raid the grain of my Great Steppe cavalry?” Tukesulu crossed his arms. “You’re asking for death!”

Shi Gandang’s face paled—he knew today was his end. Still, he forced courage into his voice: “Who... who are you? We’ve done you no harm—let us go!”

“No harm?” Tukesulu sneered. “My steppe’s grain is your enemy! Men—kill these bandits!”

Before he finished speaking, countless cavalrymen surged from all directions.

“We’re done—run!” Shi Gandang’s back chilled—he bolted for the path they’d come.

But soon they realized: the path was already sealed. The bandits were trapped, with no way out.

“Your... your lordship... please... don’t kill us... we’ll never do it again, never again...”

Even if each of them had eight heads, they wouldn’t be enough for Tukesulu’s men to cut down.

Tukesulu sheathed his sword and spoke coldly.

“Two choices: I kill you all here and now, eliminating the threat forever.”

“Or surrender to my army, swear loyalty to His Majesty of Great Jiang. You’ll keep your lives—and never go hungry again.”

He had originally intended to execute them all—but just then, he recalled Jiang Mingyu’s actions from half a month ago.

These men were local tyrants who knew Xixia’s terrain intimately. They might prove useful someday.

The bandits didn’t hesitate—they shouted in unison.

“We surrender! We pledge allegiance to His Majesty of Great Jiang!”

“Since you choose to surrender,” Tukesulu said gravely, “you must reform. From now on, you are soldiers of my army. I’ll give you a chance to prove yourselves.”

Shi Gandang bowed repeatedly. “Thank you, my lord, for your mercy! We swear to serve His Majesty and die for him!”

The bandits prostrated themselves, pounding their heads on the ground. “We thank you, my lord! We thank His Majesty!”

Tukesulu sneered. “Thank me? You’re just afraid of dying. But as long as you’re useful, I’ll hand you over to His Majesty for judgment.”