Chapter 373

At noon on the second day, Tukesulu strode into the main hall, his expression relaxed, eyes gleaming, lips curled in an unrestrained smile, radiating pure elation. He announced loudly: “Big brother, the troops are fully organized—adding the thirty thousand more brought by Che Gang, our total force now reaches one hundred thirty-five thousand!” His voice trembled with barely contained excitement and confidence; he clenched his fists and slammed them into the air in joy.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Mingyu nodded slightly, as taciturn as ever, yet a hint of joy flickered across his brow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He cleared his throat and spoke with solemn gravity: “Good. Send someone to summon Doggie and the other commanders immediately.” With that, he leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the doorway, waiting for the officers to enter.

Soon after, the officers arrived one by one, bowed respectfully, and took their positions on either side. Doggie was broad-shouldered, eyes sharp, bushy brows and large eyes, strong and agile; Shi Zhuo wore chainmail, expression calm, holding his halberd with both hands, composed and reserved, demeanor respectful; Che Gang, clad in silver helmet and armor, stood at the very front, bowing respectfully, hands loosely clasped, gaze straight ahead... Each had his own bearing, yet all stood rigidly obedient before Jiang Mingyu, awaiting orders.

Jiang Mingyu slowly paced to the center of the hall and sat in the high-backed chair, idly stroking its armrests as he surveyed the group with calm deliberation. His gaze drifted slowly over each face, as if verifying their loyalty. Once satisfied, he spoke in a low, firm tone: “Gentlemen, Xiongzhou now belongs to Great Jiang. Our next move is to march south and seize Qusheng. Time is critical—we must mobilize immediately.” As he spoke, he clenched his fist and struck his palm, his voice growing loud and forceful.

The officers nodded deeply in agreement. Jiang Mingyu turned his gaze to Che Gang and smiled: “Commandant Che, yesterday I promised you another chance to lead troops. Now that the army is fully reorganized, I’ve decided to place thirty thousand men under your command. Are you satisfied?” Che Gang stepped forward quickly, bowed low, his emotion overflowing. He clasped his hands and exclaimed with fervor: “Thank Your Majesty for your trust! Your servant is overwhelmed with gratitude! This is an immense honor!” With that, he bowed again, prostrating himself fully.

Jiang Mingyu nodded in satisfaction, his expression gentle as he accepted the thanks. Che Gang was ecstatic, deeply admiring Jiang Mingyu’s magnanimity and bearing. Nearby, Tukesulu watched coldly, silently sneering: That fool Che Gang—if he knew we wiped out his entire family, how long would this groveling last? Thinking of it, Tukesulu shook his head, frowned slightly, and muttered under his breath: “Better to keep this buried. Otherwise, the consequences would be unthinkable.”

At that moment, Che Gang spoke up: “Blessed by Your Majesty’s trust, I beg to serve as Vanguard in the campaign against Qusheng, to earn great merit and repay Your Majesty’s kindness!” His tone was fervent, his expression resolute, his eyes burning with unwavering conviction—he clearly yearned to redeem himself and serve Jiang Mingyu. Jiang Mingyu paused to consider, tapped the armrest lightly, then nodded: “Very well. You’ve served in the southern frontier for years; you know Qusheng better than we do. The Vanguard post is yours. See to it that you achieve great success!” Che Gang nodded repeatedly, secretly rejoicing—he finally had his chance to erase his shame.

Watching the darkening sky outside, Jiang Mingyu waved his hand and ordered: “Time waits for no one. Return to camp and prepare at once. In one hour, the army marches!” The officers chorused their assent and withdrew to prepare. Before leaving, Jiang Mingyu instructed Shi Zhuo to guard Xiongzhou with utmost vigilance—no negligence allowed. Shi Zhuo nodded firmly, his gaze resolute, clearly confident in holding the vital stronghold.

One hour later, one hundred thousand troops stood ready. Jiang Mingyu mounted his horse, his expression grave, brows deeply furrowed, eyes sharp as lightning as he scanned the iron-clad ranks before him. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers radiated lethal energy, weapons gleaming, formations rigid as walls, war cries rising like crashing tides, each wave louder than the last.

Jiang Mingyu’s lips curled slightly, his brow alight with excitement. His eyes sparkled, his face alight with fervor; he shook his Daoist robe, raised his arm, and roared: “March!” His voice thundered across the grasslands, its power and resolve instantly igniting the army’s spirit.

With a clatter of armor and hooves, ten thousand steeds neighed. The army began to move, a winding dragon advancing forward. After marching a distance beyond the city gates, Jiang Mingyu suddenly pulled his reins—the horse halted with a slight jerk. His brows knitted tightly, anxiety visible in his eyes as he turned slightly toward Che Gang: “How far is Qusheng from Xiongzhou? At this pace, when will we arrive?” His tone was steady, composed—but his eyes betrayed underlying tension, as if calculating every mile.

Che Gang immediately looked up at the brilliant sun, scanned the rolling grasslands around him, and swiftly judged direction and distance. He answered with unshakable certainty, calm and composed: “Your Majesty, Qusheng lies roughly three hundred li from here. With a forced march, we can reach it in three days.”

Jiang Mingyu nodded slightly, squinting westward. Before him stretched endless yellow sands, the vast grasslands alive with his army—a black serpent racing forward, dust swirling behind. His expression turned solemn; after a moment’s thought, he said: “Then it’s past noon. We must not delay—press forward at full speed.”

Jiang Mingyu waved his hand. The silver-armored troops instantly quickened their pace. The thunder of hooves erupted, dust rising in swirling yellow vortices. The rhythmic pounding of hooves drowned out all else, the hundred-thousand-strong army surging across the endless grasslands like a force unopposed.

Jiang Mingyu stood tall and straight, black hair whipping in the wind. His posture flowed like clouds, coiled like a dragon, leading the vanguard. His eyes, sharp as lightning, held unwavering resolve, fixed ahead, his face stern and commanding. Behind him stretched endless ranks of steel—iron waves charging forward, dust rising, stretching endlessly toward the horizon.

“Faster!” Jiang Mingyu’s eyes blazed as he raised his arm. The armored troops surged ahead with renewed speed. Hooves thundered, steeds screamed, and the vast army, under his command, shot westward like arrows loosed from a bow.

Jiang Mingyu’s brows remained knotted, anxiety plain on his face. He knew this battle was decisive—he must seize the advantage in time. If Qusheng fell, he could push south rapidly and secure his borders. Only then could Great Jiang’s realm grow ever stronger. Thinking of it, he gazed ahead: yellow sands, rolling dust, his iron cavalry racing forward without pause, like thunder unceasing.

At his side, Tukesulu, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke: “Big brother, we’re moving too fast—the soldiers can’t keep up!” He panted, face flushed, voice weary. Jiang Mingyu turned slightly, eyeing Tukesulu’s sturdy legs and sturdy steed, and replied in a low tone: “You and I ride elite mounts—how could you fall behind? Can’t you handle a little hardship?”

With that, Jiang Mingyu clapped Tukesulu on the shoulder, his gaze firm and encouraging: “Once Qusheng falls, I’ll grant you anything you desire. This is your chance to earn glory—stick with me, and no city will stand against us!” Tukesulu’s spirit surged; he straightened his back and pushed forward with renewed vigor.

Jiang Mingyu’s expression was grim. He knew victory lay just ahead. One hundred thousand troops, under his command, shot westward through swirling dust like arrows loosed from a bow. Their momentum was unstoppable, their will unbreakable—pointing straight toward the city that would surely fall!

After marching a long stretch, Jiang Mingyu’s brow suddenly furrowed again—he remembered something vital. He turned to Che Gang and asked: “Commandant Che, you took sixty thousand elite troops from Xiacheng. How many reinforcements remain there?” His tone was serious, his long brows tightly knitted.

At this, Che Gang’s face darkened with worry. He paused, brows deeply furrowed, then answered: “Your Majesty, the original garrison of Gebao City numbered two hundred thousand. After I took my force, fourteen thousand remained. But those eunuchs are weak, cowardly, pampered—no combat experience whatsoever. They’re utterly useless.” He spat contemptuously, his face twisted with disdain.

“By contrast, Du Jianmu’s troops are the true elite of the southern frontier.” Che Gang’s tone shifted, his eyes darkening with malice. He clenched his fists, bloodshot pupils flashing with killing intent. “Lowborn dogs—only earned their rank by slaughtering civilians. Why do they earn so much favor?”

Jiang Mingyu sensed the hatred in his voice and asked curiously: “What do you mean? How did Du Jianmu train such elite troops?” His tone was calm, his gaze still serious, subtly encouraging Che Gang to continue.

Che Gang took a deep breath, steadied himself, then spoke slowly: “Your Majesty, before Du Jianmu took command, Qusheng was overrun by bandits, lawless and chaotic. The moment he assumed office, he recruited and trained an elite force. Within less than a year, he nearly eradicated the bandit threat, winning the people’s support.” Here, a flicker of envy crossed his face.

“Because of this, he earned high praise from the Southern Frontier Emperor Wei Yangyao, who made him a trusted right hand.” The thought of Du Jianmu’s favor made Che Gang’s teeth grind; his fists clenched tighter, knuckles turning white. “A lowborn scoundrel, rising to power—it’s an unbearable disgrace!”

“Since then, Du Jianmu has waged relentless campaigns against bandits, marching day and night with his elite troops, achieving extraordinary victories. Those lowborn soldiers have grown into the Southern Frontier’s most formidable iron force. Now he holds the rank of Third Rank, wielding immense power. If we don’t eliminate him, he’ll become a grave threat!” As he spoke the final words, hatred flashed again in his eyes. He stared intently at Jiang Mingyu and pleaded: “Your Majesty, if we can utterly destroy Du Jianmu’s elite, it will be a crushing blow to the entire southern frontier—and to Wei Yangyao himself. Do you not agree?” His tone carried a sinister edge, his face expectant, awaiting Jiang Mingyu’s approval.

Jiang Mingyu fell silent for a long while, then slowly nodded. Then, as if struck by a thought, he asked: “Do you believe Du Jianmu will immediately seek aid from Wei Yangyao? If reinforcements arrive in time, can our campaign still succeed?” His furrowed brows betrayed a trace of anxiety; a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

Che Gang pondered, his mind racing through strategic possibilities. Finally, he raised his head, a sharp gleam in his eyes, and said: “In my judgment, Du Jianmu is a cunning strategist—he will surely seek aid from Wei Yangyao. Our army has won consecutive victories, slaughtered hundreds of thousands of southern troops. Our strength far exceeds any bandit horde he’s faced before. Facing our iron army, he has no choice but to beg for help to survive.”

Jiang Mingyu nodded slightly, his elegant brows knitting together: “Your reasoning is sound. Since you’ve insisted on the Vanguard role, you must have a plan to defeat him. Lay out your strategy in detail.”

Che Gang’s brows tightened, veins bulging on his forehead. He paused, as if mentally mapping his plan. Then he raised his head, a sharp glint in his eyes.

He suddenly slapped his thigh, rose, and paced within the tent. Jiang Mingyu watched in silence, waiting. After a long while, Che Gang spoke, his voice rising in intensity:

“Great King, if we rush south at full speed, we’ll catch Du Jianmu completely off guard! Our tiger-and-wolf army, fully unleashed, will terrify him into collapse before a single blow is struck!” As he spoke, his eyes widened, and he mimed a slashing strike—as if cutting down an invisible enemy.

“By then, we’ll have seized the strategic high ground, cutting off Du Jianmu’s throat. He’ll be forced to desperately beg Wei Yangyao for aid. But our army is fully prepared—we’ll encircle him, and strike straight for his head!” Che Gang swung his fists, his biceps bulging, movements so forceful they seemed to slash through real foes.

Jiang Mingyu nodded silently, expressionless, listening. Che Gang paused, breathing heavily, then continued:

“By then, Wei Yangyao’s reinforcements will still be at least seventy to eighty days away. Our siege engines are ready—we’ll capture Qusheng’s main city within seven days!” He swung his fists again, eyes blazing with murderous intent—as if already leveling the city.

“When the city falls, Du Jianmu will be captured alive. Wei Yangyao’s reinforcements will arrive too late—helpless, watching from afar!” Che Gang spread his hands, nodding in satisfaction. He looked up at Jiang Mingyu, awaiting his reaction.

Jiang Mingyu raised an eyebrow and asked in a low tone: “Your plan is excellent. But time is short, the distance great. Do you have more detailed deployments and follow-up plans?”

Che Gang bowed deeply, respectfully: “Your Majesty’s wisdom is unmatched. I shall now present the full plan!” He cleared his throat, smoothed his beard, gathered his thoughts. Then he raised his head, his expression solemn, his voice slow and grave:

“Great King, our southern advance must be divided into three columns. I shall lead fifty thousand troops as the Vanguard, marching day and night straight for Du Jianmu’s camp. The left and right flanks, each with over twenty thousand men, will be commanded by Deputy Generals Xiao Du and Shen Gong. They’ll take narrow paths, circling behind Du Jianmu.”

As he spoke, Che Gang unrolled a map and pointed to specific routes before Jiang Mingyu. Jiang Mingyu listened intently, nodding occasionally in understanding.

Che Gang then raised his head, smiling, and continued: “With this three-pronged assault, we will seize the entire Qusheng region in five days—faster than the eye can blink! At that point, Du Jianmu will have no reinforcements. I shall personally cut off his head, to repay Your Majesty’s favor!” His eyes glowed with cruelty.

Jiang Mingyu listened, then nodded solemnly: “Commandant speaks wisely. Your three-pronged advance, coordinated and swift—this is the supreme strategy. I shall issue the order immediately: the entire army marches south, straight for Du Jianmu’s lair! We shall take his head and present it at the ancestral shrine, to restore Great Jiang’s honor!”

Che Gang bowed again, his smile radiant. He replied respectfully: “By Your Majesty’s decree, we shall give our all, even unto death!”

Jiang Mingyu did not immediately respond. As Che Gang opened his mouth to speak, distant dust erupted— a swift horse galloped toward the camp.

Tukesulu rushed over, leapt from his steed, and led a young man, drenched in sweat, clothes torn, into the tent. “Lord! Your Majesty! The emissary from Lady Yi has arrived! He brings urgent military intelligence!” Jiang Mingyu dismounted, strode three steps forward, and gripped the man’s shoulders anxiously: “What does Yi Fei say? Speak quickly!” The young man swallowed hard, visibly nervous, stammering: “Lord, Lady Yi says Du Jianmu sent men via water route two days ago—ninety percent likely to Gebao City to beg for aid. Purpose unknown. She ordered me to rush here and warn you and Your Majesty to proceed with caution.”

Jiang Mingyu paused, then his eyes flashed with sudden insight. He turned to Che Gang with a sly grin: “As you predicted—Du Jianmu is panicked! He’s sent men a thousand li away for help—clearly terrified by our victories. Ha! Let him beg at Gebao City! There, the bureaucracy is piled high, officials are useless—no one will take his plea seriously. He’ll return empty-handed, cursing his fate!”

Che Gang snorted coldly, the fire of hatred reigniting in his eyes. He clenched his fists, voice low and venomous: “Your Majesty, as they say—time waits for no one! We must rush to Qusheng and destroy Du Jianmu before Wei Yangyao’s reinforcements arrive. Once we hold the advantage, dealing with their reinforcements will be as easy as reaching into a pouch!”

Jiang Mingyu nodded slightly, though a trace of unease still lingered in his brow. “Hmm… you’re right… we must seize the initiative—swift victory is key. Then, mobilize at once—full forced march!” He raised his arm and roared, voice booming like a bell. One hundred thousand armored troops instantly prepared, stepping forward in unison, surging westward. Soon, they vanished beyond the grasslands, leaving only empty fields and swirling dust...