Chapter 374: The Show Is About to Begin

It was now deep into autumn, the sky a pristine blue with only a few wisps of cloud drifting lazily. Wild grass had turned yellow and rustled in the north wind, undulating across the plains like waves.

A large cavalry force galloped across the open field, formation orderly and disciplined, appearing from afar like a long black dragon winding across the earth.

Each cavalryman wore black iron armor, wielding long spears and sharp swords, their expressions stern, eyes fixed ahead. The armor and weapons glinted brilliantly in the sunlight, the thunderous pounding of hooves shattering the silence of the plain.

This was Jiang Mingyu’s army, still more than ten li from their destination.

Jiang Mingyu stood tall at the front of the army, clad in ink-black armor with golden-thread embroidery on the chest, his shoulder cape snapping in the wind. His face was grim, eyes gleaming with fierce battle lust, staring straight ahead as if he already saw the victory approaching. This campaign was a long-held dream, and now his chest swelled with ambition and anticipation.

Jiang Mingyu glanced back at his soldiers, each mounted on powerful steeds, radiating confidence. Some had followed him to build his empire, others had forged bonds of brotherhood through training, sharing life and death with him—they were his most trusted brothers. Seeing their resolute, courageous gazes, Jiang Mingyu felt a surge of Rexue .

“Your Majesty!” A staff officer ran up, reporting enemy movements: “Scouts report that the reinforcements from Gebao City have changed course northward after the water route was blocked; they will arrive at Qusheng in about seven days.” Jiang Mingyu nodded, a faint smirk of satisfaction crossing his lips. He called out: “Feng Xi!”

Feng Xi immediately rode up, dismounted, and knelt on one knee, looking up: “Your servant is here!” He had been specially assigned to this campaign, his spirit long primed for action. Days of grueling travel had left him slightly gaunt, cheeks sunken, but his eyes burned with unwavering determination.

“Take your men immediately to Tagang in the east. Gather every scrap of military intelligence—leave nothing out. I need to know their defenses, troop deployments, and supply lines.”

“By Your Majesty’s command!” Feng Xi bowed deeply. “I shall spare no effort and not disgrace this mission!”

Without delay, he selected ten young scouts, swift and alert, and gave them their orders. Most were still young, their appearances delicate, yet each carried astonishing explosive power and endurance.

Feng Xi waved his hand: “Move out!” The ten scouts shot forward like arrows released from a bow, vanishing into the horizon. They raced day and night, changing mounts along the way, swiftly gathering all intelligence on Tagang. Jiang Mingyu studied the detailed maps and annotations, silently nodding in approval—these scouts, brought back by Feng Xi, would become his vital vanguard in capturing Tagang.

Meanwhile, reinforcements urgently dispatched by Wei Yangyao of Gebao City were also racing day and night along the land route.

Wei Shaowu frowned deeply, his expression anxious. He wore heavy armor, gripping a long sword, frequently turning to check on his men.

It had been a full day and night of relentless marching; both men and horses showed clear signs of exhaustion. Soldiers wore drooping helmets, faces caked in dust, stumbling forward. Drenched in sweat, their expressions bore pain and numbness. Yet they gritted their teeth, dragging their heavy steps onward, knowing this mission was critical—no slack allowed.

Amid the thunder of hooves, some soldiers fell from their mounts. Wei Shaowu immediately ordered men to lift them up. The fallen soldier was utterly spent, lips still murmuring: “Serve... the state... only ask to die with purpose...” Wei Shaowu’s heart ached like a knife, yet he barked: “Give him water! We must keep moving!”

Governor Du Jianmu faced grave danger—if reinforcements arrived even a moment late, the frontline would collapse entirely. Then Qusheng would fall, and Gebao City would be under dire threat. Thinking of this, Wei Shaowu raised his voice again: “The enemy’s main force has broken through our outer defenses! Du Jianmu can only hold the city—we must reach them as soon as possible!”

Hearing this, the soldiers, though filthy and worn, straightened their backs and quickened their pace. Amid the swirling dust, their faces were barely visible—yet their expression was unmistakable: unyielding resolve, willing to march until death.

Yet each man knew deep down—they might not make it in time... The enemy was far closer and marched faster. Whether they could arrive in time remained uncertain. Wei Shaowu’s grip on his sword trembled slightly—he knew better than anyone that failure of this reinforcement would shift the entire war.

At that moment, a young officer rode up beside Wei Shaowu, removing his helmet to reveal a youthful face. It was Wei Shaowu’s son, Wei Qing. His eyes were bloodshot, as if fighting exhaustion. “Father, I request permission to scout enemy movements. Perhaps we can delay their advance.”

Wei Shaowu gazed at his son’s resolute face, a surge of pride and emotion rising within him. He clapped Wei Qing firmly on the shoulder: “Good! I’ll push hard toward the frontline—you go on reconnaissance. We must give everything!”

Wei Qing saluted his father, then led a few elite soldiers away silently. Wei Shaowu watched his son’s retreating figure, clenching his fist tightly. This battle was not only about national strategy—it was about his and Wei Qing’s future. Until the very last moment, he would never give up!

Meanwhile, the ten scouts raced across the wasteland, galloping furiously, whipping their mounts as if racing against time. Each face bore grim determination—the certainty and resolve to complete their mission.

Leading the group, Feng Jin frowned deeply, eyes sharp as lightning, fixed on the road ahead. The path was uneven, riddled with potholes and hidden gravel—any misstep could injure their mounts. Yet Feng Jin dared not slow down; he had to reach the destination before the enemy—that was Feng Xi’s critical order.

The scouts behind him wore solemn expressions, eyes resolute, hooves kicking up dust that silhouetted their decisive forms. They must give everything—this was not only about personal honor, but the entire war.

In the blink of an eye, two days passed. That night, a bright full moon hung in the dark sky like a giant mirror, illuminating the camp as brightly as day.

Jiang Mingyu stood alone in his tent, his tall figure outlined sharply by moonlight. His black hair fell loosely over broad shoulders, gleaming coldly in the glow. His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, were half-lidded, lost in thought.

At that moment, the tent flap opened and Tukesiluo strode in. He was broad-shouldered, muscles bulging, with long black hair—making him and Jiang Mingyu appear strikingly similar when standing side by side.

Tukesiluo hesitated, then asked: “Brother, our army reaches Qusheng tomorrow. What’s your plan to break the city and defeat the enemy?” His voice carried underlying anxiety—he had mocked Du Jianmu’s so-called “elite,” yet as battle neared, unease crept in. His lips drooped slightly, brows furrowed, betraying his tension.

Jiang Mingyu lifted his head, his gaze calm as an ancient well, utterly still. He did not answer Tukesiluo immediately, but quietly shifted his gaze to E Bu and Li Goudan. E Bu was tall and thin, expression stern; Li Goudan was short and round-faced, bewildered. Jiang Mingyu’s voice was low and firm: “In past campaigns, I alone planned our routes—you only followed orders. This time, I want to try something different...” His tone rose slightly, hinting at Shitan and anticipation, “How do you think we should fight this battle?”

He then leisurely lifted the blue-and-white teacup beside him, took a small sip, and waited calmly for his officers’ responses, though his long, strong fingers unconsciously tapped the cup—hiding a trace of inner tension.

“Your Majesty, are you testing us?” After a long silence, E Bu finally found his voice. His expression was confused and unprepared—Jiang Mingyu’s sudden delegation of decision-making to them had caught him entirely off guard. His voice trembled, eyes filled with obvious panic.

“Indeed, I am testing you,” Jiang Mingyu replied coldly, his tone carrying a hint of expectation, as if genuinely hoping for proactive battle strategies from his officers. Yet his face remained impassive, only his eyes growing sharper and deeper.

After this brief exchange, the tent fell into awkward silence. Officers exchanged glances, at a loss. Li Goudan stared wide-eyed, mouth slightly open as if to speak, but unsure what to say. Tukesiluo frowned, lost in thought. E Bu rubbed his chin, visibly uneasy. Others also looked troubled—none could think of a clever tactic.

Jiang Mingyu sat upright, scrutinizing his officers, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He sighed softly, set down his teacup, and crossed his arms: “It seems I have no talent among my subordinates. If you cannot even devise a siege strategy, how will you win this hard battle?”

At that moment, Li Goudan suddenly stammered: “Your Majesty... I... I have an idea...”

He stepped forward three paces, his towering frame casting a massive shadow over Jiang Mingyu under the lantern light. “Your Majesty, I believe the best way is direct assault!” he boomed, voice thunderous. “Du Jianmu has only seventy thousand men—we have one hundred and ten thousand, forty thousand more! If we launch a full-frontal attack, even if each man kicks once, we’ll knock down Qusheng’s walls!”

As he spoke, he wildly gestured in the air, grinning fiercely, eyes fixed ahead as if already seeing the walls collapse under the stampede of his army. Jiang Mingyu, however, sipped his tea calmly, expression unruffled, waiting silently for Li Goudan to finish.

Seeing Jiang Mingyu silent, Li Goudan continued: “There’s another advantage! Surrounding the city on all four sides, Du Jianmu can’t escape—even if he grew wings, he can’t fly out of Qusheng! If we don’t annihilate him here, he’ll become a grave threat later!” He pounded his chest again, brimming with confidence.

Jiang Mingyu finally raised an eyebrow slightly and asked: “What advantage? Explain.”

“Ha! This advantage is huge!” Li Goudan laughed, flashing white teeth. “Surrounding the city on all sides, Du Jianmu has nowhere to run—he’s doomed! Then we can legitimately take over Xixia!”

His words immediately drew opposition from He Jing: “Your Majesty, absolutely not!” He Jing frowned, his gaze sweeping the officers, anxiety clear on his face. “I’ll say it plainly—under Li’s plan, our casualties will be catastrophic...”

Jiang Mingyu listened quietly, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a hint of approval. Meanwhile, Che Gang, who had remained silent, fell into deep thought—he never imagined that the seemingly mighty Da Jiang internally was weak and riddled with hidden currents. His own dream was to avenge his mother—he would never oppose Jiang Mingyu, nor disrupt matters at this critical moment...

“You each have different views—who is right?” Jiang Mingyu’s voice cut through Che Gang’s thoughts. He sat upright, long fingers lightly tapping his chin, eyes shifting from He Jing to Li Goudan, sharp as blades.

“This... Your Majesty, I think General He is right,” Li Goudan hesitated, uncomfortably rubbing his hands. “I didn’t think it through—I’m not worthy.”

“Hmph. I thought you had some brilliant insight,” Jiang Mingyu snorted, his tone tinged with disappointment. He raised his hand, fingers sweeping through the air, eyes piercing the silent E Bu: “E Bu—what do you think we should do?”

E Bu was caught off guard, face flushing red and white. He stammered: “Yes... General He is correct. I agree.” He nervously rubbed his hands, eyes darting. “Our army lacks sufficient grain and pay. Even recruiting more soldiers would require extensive training time. Right now, our momentum is unstoppable—we must not halt the southern campaign. Once stopped, restarting it will be nearly impossible.”

Jiang Mingyu did not reply immediately, but scanned the group, his gaze finally settling on Feng Xi, Che Gang, and Tukesiluo: “You three—what do you think?”

Feng Xi’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if deep in thought. After a long pause, he spoke slowly, voice hesitant: “Since direct assault is unfeasible, why not try a night raid? It’s our specialty.”

Before he finished, Tukesiluo objected: “No! Sister sent word recently—Du Jianmu has reinforced night defenses, especially around the walls. We have no opening at all!” His furrowed brows and grim face betrayed deep anxiety.

Jiang Mingyu softly murmured “Hmm,” then turned his gaze to the silent Che Gang, waiting for his opinion. Che Gang gave a helpless smile, spreading his hands: “Your Majesty, I have no brilliant strategy. Dealing with a hard nut like Du Jianmu... I simply can’t think of anything right now.” His eyes met the front, clear and gentle, yet unmistakably troubled.

The tent fell silent. All officers exchanged glances, no one speaking.

Hearing no one offer a plan, Jiang Mingyu slowly toyed with his teacup: “Actually, I have an idea myself.”

Tukesiluo muttered, slightly resentful: “If you had one, why didn’t you say so sooner? Why make us worry?” His words stunned everyone—no one dared speak so bluntly to Jiang Mingyu.

Yet to their surprise, Jiang Mingyu showed no anger—his expression remained calm.

Jiang Mingyu slowly rose, smoothing the wrinkles in his robe. He walked deliberately toward them, eyes deep as a dark pool: “It seems none of you can devise a clever strategy. I’ve spent days rehearsing—only a vague plan has formed. But this plan is risky. If it fails, Da Jiang’s future hangs in the balance. Do you have the courage to gamble on the outcome of this southern campaign?”

The officers erupted in agreement, faces resolute, eager to act. Jiang Mingyu nodded slowly, gesturing: “Then step forward...”

The officers clustered close, listened to Jiang Mingyu’s plan, and immediately showed approval and delight, nodding enthusiastically. Tukesiluo was the most excited—his eyes gleamed, thick eyebrows raised, mouth split in a wild grin. After hearing the plan, he leapt to his feet and strode out of the tent, eager to execute Jiang Mingyu’s orders, his figure vanishing quickly into the night.

Jiang Mingyu’s eyes flickered with approval. He set down the blue-and-white teacup, his tall silhouette cast sharply by the lantern light. “Go. Do as I said.” The officers instantly rose, saluted in perfect unison, each glowing with vigor and determination, then filed out, heading to their posts.

Jiang Mingyu remained alone in the tent, surrounded by silence. He turned, gazing through the open flap at the bustling camp—night wind brushing past, lanterns blazing like daylight. His silver hair flowed loosely, posture upright, hands clasped behind his back, staring at his ten thousand troops. Beneath thick lashes, his gaze was deep as water, radiating quiet pride and grand ambition. The faint, elusive smile on his lips added further majesty and invincibility.

The show is about to begin!