Chapter 844: Military Intelligence

Qin Zhong heard this, tears streaming down his face; he fell to his knees and sobbed, "Lord Guo, our army has clashed with Yexian's forces multiple times and suffered crushing defeats—soldiers have died in droves. The Regional Commander forbade us from telling His Majesty, ordering us to keep our mouths shut. But if His Majesty doesn't know, how can he send reinforcements? What of Datong? If the Datong line breaks, Jingcheng is doomed! Great Ming is doomed!"

Lord Guo asked: "Crushing defeats? Did any Wala troops break through the lines?"

Qin Zhong looked up: "Yes."

Lord Guo's heart tightened: "Where?"

Qin Zhong: "I don't know. Commander Guo Deng might know—or perhaps he doesn't either."

Lord Guo sprang to his feet in fury.

To fight like Guo Deng is rare indeed.

Lord Guo took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and began asking Qin Zhong in detail about each battle.

But Qin Zhong was merely a thousand-household commander of the West Third Garrison; aside from the battles his unit participated in, all other engagements were hearsay—he couldn't be certain.

The only thing he could confirm was that, in every engagement before the Emperor's arrival, they had suffered crushing defeats.

Guo Deng and Guo Jing had always wanted to win one battle, to avoid looking utterly foolish before the Emperor—but they had never won a single one.

With no reinforcements, they had no choice but to fabricate reports.

Qin Zhong didn't know how Guo Deng had reported things, but since he'd been chosen to stand on the city wall and ordered not to reveal any military intelligence to anyone coming from Jingcheng, he guessed the truth.

He didn't know Commander Guo's plan, but he knew that if they kept hiding this, disaster was coming—and the ordinary soldiers and civilians of Datong would suffer most.

Qin Zhong gazed at Lord Guo with reverence and longing, hoping he could save Datong.

Though Qin Zhong didn't know the full picture, from the three battles he'd taken part in, Lord Guo could deduce Datong's general situation.

Likely, the Datong line hadn't just let in one or two Wala units—as Qin Zhong claimed—but had failed to hold any of its positions along the way.

The fear was that if Yexian wanted to, he could walk right in.

Just imagining that possibility made Lord Guo's body turn icy cold—if so, weren't they like fat lambs being led to slaughter, utterly unaware, innocently wandering in their pen?

Lord Guo clenched his fists, ordered Qin Zhong escorted out, then smashed the desk with a single furious blow.

The attendant jumped in shock—he hadn't seen Lord Guo this enraged in years, never imagining he'd fly into such a rage this time.

Lord Guo laughed bitterly, pacing back and forth: "Ha! Ha! Ha! I never thought the Emperor and the entire court had been toyed with by a mere general and a eunuch!"

Seeing Lord Guo nearly foaming with rage, the attendant rushed to fetch a new teapot and poured him water: "My Lord, please calm down. Guo Deng is despicable, but his motives are understandable. The Emperor is personally leading the campaign—if he learned how badly the battles went, Guo Deng would lose his head or be stripped of rank. Avoiding harm and seeking benefit is human nature…"

"Bullshit human nature!" Lord Guo roared. "If avoiding harm and seeking benefit—while plunging His Majesty into peril—is called human nature, then where is justice? Where is heaven's law? When did disloyalty and treachery become human nature?"

Enraged, Lord Guo pointed straight at the attendant's nose: "It's men like you—scheming, crawling, petty worms—who have corrupted morality, poisoned governance. Taizong, Taizong…"

Lord Guo bowed over his desk and wept: "If Taizong knew, he'd draw his sword and cut you all down!"

The attendant jumped in fright—he'd only meant to soothe Lord Guo, but had only made him angrier. He quickly apologized, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his tears.

Soon, Lord Guo's tears soaked the handkerchief through.

At last he calmed, pressing a hand to his chest to steady his breath. Seeing the attendant's anxious, guilty expression, he sighed and apologized: "I frightened you. Blaming you was my fault."

The attendant's eyes filled with tears: "My Lord." Lord Guo waved a hand, his voice low: "Your father grew up with me. He was my attendant once; when he grew old, you came to serve me. I didn't want to bring you on this campaign—you're over fifty, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. I'm fifty-two."

"Fifty-two. A time for dandling grandchildren. Yet you still trudge with me on the road."

The attendant's tears streamed freely: "My Lord, serving beside you is the greatest blessing of my life. My father said the same on his deathbed."

Lord Guo stared at him, then turned to the window, whispering: "Old friend… I have a feeling—we won't make it back this time."

The attendant stared at him, stunned.

Lord Guo only called his father "old friend."

He hesitated, then stayed silent, standing quietly to one side, waiting as the sun outside grew fiercer and voices stirred in the courtyard. When he turned back, Lord Guo had closed his eyes.

The attendant hurriedly draped a small blanket over him, bowed deeply, and withdrew.

Meanwhile, Qin Zhong, having cunningly evaded the spies, had just reached the outskirts of the encampment.

Lord Guo hadn't taken back the token, so Qin Zhong used it to enter the outer camp without hindrance—as long as he avoided Guo Deng and Guo Jing's spies.

But where exactly was Pan Yun's tent?

These were all Five Army Camp tents—but there were far too many.

As he stood helplessly lost, a delighted voice rang out behind him: "Hundred-household!"

Qin Zhong turned and saw Pan Yun, carrying two wooden buckets, filthy and grimy—he beamed with joy: "Pan Yun!"

The two embraced warmly.

"I finally found you!" Qin Zhong clapped him hard on the shoulder, then stepped back two paces, wrinkling his nose: "How the hell are you this stinky?"

"Of course I stink! From the day we left Jingcheng till now—over twenty days—I haven't washed once!"

Qin Zhong stepped back two more paces: "You're… really that filthy? Pan Yun, you weren't like this before…"

Pan Yun: "... I know I wasn't. But we've been on the march for weeks—over two hundred thousand men. Even drinking water's scarce, let alone bathing."

You could wash in the river after drinking—but lately it's rained nonstop. Who dares step in? Catch a chill…

Thinking of comrades who'd fallen along the way from colds, Pan Yun's spirits sank.

Seeing this, Qin Zhong stepped forward and clapped his shoulder without hesitation: "Forget it—I don't mind."

Pan Yun perked up, grabbing the buckets and pulling him toward the tent: "Come on, come on—I'll introduce you to my brothers."

Pan Yun introduced Qin Zhong to his comrades: "This is my old hundred-household from when I was a military slave—Hundred-household Qin!"

Yu Rui and the others, unbothered by Pan Yun's mention of his exiled past, grinned and greeted Qin Zhong warmly.

Qin Zhong said proudly: "I've been promoted to thousand-household now."

Pan Yun's eyes lit up; he punched Qin Zhong's shoulder playfully: "Damn, Brother Qin! Impressive!"