Chapter 368

Jiang Mingyu’s camp was utterly silent, broken only by the rustling of the night wind against the tents. Several flickering oil lamps illuminated the main tent, casting light on Jiang Mingyu seated calmly on the central seat, clad in chainmail, a faint smile lingering at his lips, his gaze sharp as fire. On either side of the tent stood several high-ranking officers in military attire, expressionless, occasionally exchanging meaningful glances, each face shadowed with inscrutable calm.

“Gentlemen, Tong Wa has fallen into our trap—it is inevitable. I am certain he will launch an attack tonight.” Jiang Mingyu spoke, his voice low yet resonant.

From the far left, a burly man wearing a silver helmet—Tukesiluo—laughed twice, his booming, jarring laughter echoing through the tent. “Tong Wa really thinks himself something, huh? He’s nothing but a pawn in Brother’s hand.” His tone dripped with contempt; arms crossed, he looked eager to charge.

Jiang Mingyu waved a hand, his hawk-like eyes gleaming with resolve. “This opportunity must not be missed. Listen to my orders—Tukesiluo, take thirty thousand troops and ambush the left flank; He Jing, take thirty thousand and ambush the right flank; I will personally lead twenty thousand to ambush the rear and seal off their retreat. Ebu, you and the remaining troops will block Tong Wa’s escape route.”

Seeing all officers tighten their lips and nod solemnly, Jiang Mingyu nodded in satisfaction and continued: “Also, immediately order the soldiers to douse the tents with oil. As soon as Tong Wa arrives, set them ablaze.”

“With fire to aid us, and the element of surprise, Tong Wa’s chances of victory are nonexistent.” A cold smile curled his lips, radiating absolute confidence.

The generals nodded again, responding with urgent precision. Jiang Mingyu’s gaze suddenly darkened, his voice icy as winter: “Tonight, I will annihilate that dog’s lackey Tong Wa and his hundred thousand southern troops—every last one!” He gripped his sword hilt tightly, his voice thunderous, then turned and strode out of the main tent.

The camp erupted into frantic activity. Soldiers swiftly doused the tents with oil, waiting for nightfall to ignite them. Jiang Mingyu stood atop a rise, gazing far off toward Xiongzhou City, a cold smile touching his lips: With fire to help, Tong Wa was certain to die; once Xiongzhou fell, all its military supplies would be his. The thought brought him quiet delight, his eyes gleaming with cunning and unshakable determination.

The hour was late; the night sky brimmed with stars, and a thin mist hung over the camp. Tong Wa gripped his whip, his expression grim, leading his eleven-thousand-strong army. The iron hooves of his troops shook the earth, radiating murderous intent.

Soon, a massive camp appeared ahead. The sentries slumped lazily by the gate, fast asleep, utterly unprepared. Tong Wa sneered, raised his bow, and fired two arrows—both struck the sentries’ vital points. “Such lax discipline? Jiang Mingyu clearly expected us. Fine—let him taste the shock of a sudden strike!”

With that, Tong Wa raised his long blade, crouched low on his horse, and the entire army roared as they charged into the camp.

Clanging weapons erupted—but no one answered. Tong Wa’s heart lurched. “Empty camp?!” Before he could finish, flames erupted from all directions—countless torches ignited at once, bathing the camp in blinding light. Panic seized Tong Wa; he turned to break out—when a towering figure emerged from behind.

It was Jiang Mingyu! The bastard had ambushed them here with his entire army!

Jiang Mingyu mounted his horse, calm and composed. He looked up at Tong Wa, sneering: “General Tong, you came in such haste—and now you’re leaving so abruptly? How very inconsiderate.”

Tong Wa’s face turned ashen. He suddenly understood: “So I’ve fallen into your trap! You never ran out of grain! All of this was a ruse to lure us in!” Jiang Mingyu nodded slightly, approving: “No wonder you’re a general—your plans are flawless. Too bad you’re one step too late. My fifty thousand troops have you completely surrounded. Tonight is your death day!”

With that, Jiang Mingyu’s eyes flashed with cruel ice. He raised his sword, coldly commanding: “Tong Wa, you once fortified your walls and poisoned my tens of thousands of comrades. Today, I return the favor—with interest!” He raised his arm—and behind him, fifty thousand warriors drew their swords, a storm of killing intent surging into the air.

Tong Wa’s nerves tightened further—escape was impossible; this battle would likely end in his death. But then he thought: I’m no pushover. If I can carve out even a sliver of chance, I might still turn the tide! He snatched up a spear and roared: “Break out with me! Capture Jiang Mingyu!”

Whizzing sounds filled the air—dozens of flaming arrows shot from all sides, striking southern infantry, instantly spraying blood. Tong Wa’s face turned deathly pale, his pupils shrinking. Before he could react, a second volley arrived—arrowheads glinted like lightning, piercing vital points, felling hundreds upon hundreds of southern troops.

“Ahh—!” “Help! Help!” Screams erupted everywhere. Blood seeped into the earth, pooling rapidly. Tong Wa’s face twisted in terror, his lips trembling. He turned to break out—only to find his rear swallowed by roaring flames. His troops trampled over fallen comrades, charging left and right in vain. Flames licked the land, heat rolled in waves, thick smoke billowed upward. All were writhing in agony within the fire-hell, their screams chilling the soul.

“Break out! Break out with me!” Tong Wa bellowed, sweat beading on his forehead. At that moment, thunderous roars erupted from both flanks: “You little bastards, think you can run? I’m Tukesiluo here! He Jing of Great Jiang stands ready!” Both men’s eyes burned red, like wolves pouncing on prey, leading elite officers to charge into the encirclement. Northern warriors raised steel blades and great axes, seeing the weakened southern troops, grew even more brutal, slaughtering without restraint.

The last sliver of Tong Wa’s hope vanished. Amid rising cries of agony, his southern troops lost morale and scattered in panic. Then another force—Ebu’s personal guards, hidden in ambush—burst forth. “Block every exit! Leave not a single soul alive!” As axes and blades sank deep into flesh with crisp thuds, more southern troops collapsed, blood gushing, bodies littering the ground—horrible to behold.

The massacre had reached its end. Jiang Mingyu’s eyes blazed, a cruel smile curling his lips, like a demon from hell. He raised his blood-slicked sword, its surface reflecting his burning gaze. “Bring me Tong Wa!” he roared, voice thunderous. Beside him, Ebu and Tukesiluo instantly shouted in unison, racing toward Tong Wa with murderous intent.

Soon, Tong Wa was bound tightly and knelt before Jiang Mingyu. “Y-you... spare me... I’ll surrender...” he croaked. “I’m not as merciful as you,” Jiang Mingyu sneered, the tip of his sword pointing directly at Tong Wa’s throat. “Bring me a blade! Cut him slowly!” “No—!” A scream echoed through the night as Tong Wa’s body slowly disintegrated...

Fifty thousand troops, high-spirited and perfectly coordinated, swiftly slaughtered the last thirty-four hundred of Tong Wa’s men. The land fell silent, broken only by insect chirps and the whisper of the night wind. The ground was strewn with grotesque corpses and dark crimson pools, exhaling a sweet, metallic stench.

Jiang Mingyu walked slowly through the carnage, sword in hand, his feet crushing southern troops’ severed limbs and entrails. His face was calm, almost serene—as if he’d long grown accustomed to such bloodshed. The officers beside him were expressionless, numb.

“General, this was truly a brutal battle...” one fierce officer couldn’t help but sigh. “Indeed,” Jiang Mingyu replied coolly. “At last, the chaos in Great Jiang has come to an end.” He looked up at the sky—the night deepened, stars glittered. He knew this great victory would lay the foundation for his conquest of the southern lands. The thought brought a faint, satisfied smile to his lips.

“Let’s go to Xiongzhou,” Jiang Mingyu murmured, his brows slightly furrowed, his hawk eyes fixed on the city walls—as if he could burn a hole through the still-closed gates. He coughed softly, a cold smile tugging his lips, his right hand unconsciously tightening around his sword hilt. At this moment, he longed to claim the city beneath his feet.

About the time of a meal later, figures finally appeared on the city wall. A bloodied head was hurled high into the air, tracing an arc before crashing onto the wall and rolling down. Tukesiluo squinted, examining it closely—it was unmistakably the head of the enemy commander, Tong Wa.

“Tong Wa lies dead in the wilderness, your hundred-thousand army annihilated! Open the gates and surrender now!” Tukesiluo crossed his arms, sneering at the wall. His voice carried mockery—and more, impatience and urgency.

The city wall fell into deathly silence. The defenders exchanged glances, paralyzed by terror and despair. Long moments passed—then a thunderous boom shattered the quiet. The tightly shut gates groaned open with a deafening crash. Jiang Mingyu’s expression finally softened; he gave a slight nod, a hint of smugness in his eyes, and signaled Tukesiluo.

Tukesiluo immediately bellowed: “Full army, enter the city!” A thousand elite cavalry spun their mounts, blades and spears gleaming, charging into the city. Hooves thundered, dust rose, and soon they were inside. Jiang Mingyu’s lips slowly curved into a smile as he walked calmly to the gate, gazing up at the white flag fluttering above—his heart swelled with pride.

Then he suddenly remembered something, strode to Tukesiluo, and said sternly: “Take immediate control of the city’s defenses. Gather all surrendered troops. Any sign of unrest—kill them all.” Tukesiluo and the others’ faces flashed with cruel satisfaction; they nodded firmly and rushed into the city.

Moments later, Jiang Mingyu turned to Ebu on his right: “Go at once and contact General Shi Zhuo. Order him to come immediately and assume command of the city’s defenses.” Shi Zhuo, who could manage a garrison with flawless order, was a man of exceptional ability—Jiang Mingyu had long favored him. Now that Xiongzhou was secured, he needed a capable general to hold it.

As Ebu rose to leave, Jiang Mingyu added: “Also, send men to Jiangzhou to check the situation. If all is well, send Li Goudan here to report.” He crossed his arms, his mind already racing ahead, plotting his next military move.

As dawn began to break, the two scouts Jiang Mingyu had dispatched rode off at full gallop. Jiang Mingyu silently calculated: the victory at Xiongzhou marked a new beginning in his military career. Now, another decisive battle awaited him in the south. The thought made him unconsciously grip his sword hilt, a faint smile touching his lips.

At this moment, Jiang Mingyu was certain: his ambition could no longer be stopped. This time, he would make his enemies taste utter defeat!

While Jiang Mingyu planned his next strategy, Tukesiluo and his men had already inventoried Xiongzhou’s military supplies. This vast city held abundant grain, weapons, and equipment—truly a strategic stronghold. Now, all these resources had fallen into Great Jiang’s hands; Tukesiluo felt a quiet surge of excitement and joy.

Jiang Mingyu strode into the Commander’s Office, still standing, when Feng Xi stepped forward, bowing with one arm.

Feng Xi frowned deeply, his face filled with apology: “Your Majesty, heavy rains in Guizhou have delayed my grain convoy. I failed in my duty—I am deeply ashamed!” He bent his knees, preparing to kneel in penance.

Jiang Mingyu waved him off, sighing: “Bad weather on campaign is unavoidable. No need to blame yourself. The key is, Xiongzhou has fallen—no great disaster has occurred. That is fortune enough.” He smiled faintly, his eyes warm with relief. “You’ve worked hard. Rest now.”

Feng Xi thanked him profusely and stepped aside. Jiang Mingyu stretched, rubbed his temples, and sank into sleep. The surroundings fell silent, save for the occasional birdcall drifting through the window, adding to the peace.

When Jiang Mingyu opened his eyes again, the sun had set, bathing the room in warm light. He exhaled deeply, as if releasing all his fatigue. He rubbed his temples, sipped a few sips of clear tea, then gestured to his attendants: “Send for Tukesiluo.”

Moments later, Tukesiluo’s sturdy figure stood at the door. “Brother, what do you require?” He bowed. Jiang Mingyu toyed with his teacup, looked up, and asked gently: “Are all city affairs settled?”

Tukesiluo nodded: “All is arranged, Brother. Rest assured.” A moment passed. Jiang Mingyu set down his cup and paced slowly around the room. Tukesiluo stood quietly beside him, waiting patiently.

Long silence. Finally, Jiang Mingyu spoke, his tone thoughtful: “How have the townspeople reacted? Will they accept our rule?”

Tukesiluo paused, then replied slowly: “The people are calm. After years of war, I’ve learned something. The true ruler of the world doesn’t matter to ordinary folk. All they need is peace, food, and security.”

Jiang Mingyu smiled knowingly, patted Tukesiluo’s shoulder: “Good. With your insight, I can rest easy.”

Then his expression darkened, a shadow of worry crossing his face. He rose from the table, hands behind his back, pacing slowly. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on him.

“Follow the model of Jiancheng. Once Shi Zhuo arrives, immediately implement policies to reduce corvée labor and taxes.” Jiang Mingyu spoke firmly. “You’re right—if the people benefit, no one will resist us.”

Tukesiluo sat at the table, watching Jiang Mingyu’s back, fists clenched on his knees, nodding slowly, his expression grave.

“Yes, Brother,” he replied. “I’ll begin preparations immediately and notify all battalions.”

Jiang Mingyu’s figure swayed in the shifting light; he stroked his chin, deep in thought. Tukesiluo watched him, lips parted, then hesitated.

“Brother, Xiongzhou is ours. Once Sister’s intelligence arrives, can we launch our attack on Qusheng?”

His tone carried eagerness, barely concealed excitement.

Jiang Mingyu paused, turned, and looked at Tukesiluo with a complex expression.

“Qusheng... we cannot go there yet.”

Tukesiluo blinked, frowning in confusion: “Brother, what do you mean? With Sister’s intelligence, Qusheng has no secrets. Why can’t we attack?”

Disappointment flickered across his face; he stared at Jiang Mingyu, unwilling to accept it.

Jiang Mingyu sighed, sat by the window, and gently swirled his teacup.

“When the scout reported from the coast, did you forget Tong Wa secretly sent messengers to Baocheng for reinforcements?” He looked at Tukesiluo, his tone shifting. “I suspect Wei Yangyao’s reinforcements will arrive soon.”

Tukesiluo froze, then suddenly understood, his face clearing. “So that’s it... Qusheng truly can’t be attacked yet.” He murmured, his expression hardening as he rapidly weighed options.

Jiang Mingyu fell silent, staring fixedly at the map spread on the table, his gaze deep and unreadable. Both men sank into anxiety and confusion. Long moments passed before Tukesiluo hesitantly spoke:

“Then... Brother, are we to stay here and wait for the reinforcements?”

His voice was low, tinged with tension. Jiang Mingyu closed his eyes, nodded slowly, brows furrowed: “We have no choice. Our troops have no experience in naval warfare—if we sail out, we’ll destroy ourselves.”

He paused, opened his eyes, and looked at Tukesiluo: “The best course now is to remain still, wait for the enemy to reveal themselves, then strike. Only then can we retain the initiative.”

Tukesiluo nodded reluctantly, his expression even heavier. There was no other option. Both fell silent, grim-faced, each silently planning their next move.