Chapter 859

The forces split into two: Cao Nai and others gathered the remnants to Xuanfu, while Chen Huai continued to carry out orders, clearing the Wala forces from the rear.

Pan Yun traveled freely; everyone waited for her to calculate the Emperor's whereabouts.

But the Emperor was mobile; even if Pan Yun could calculate it, by the time they arrived, he would already be long gone.

But Pan Yun wanted to maintain her mystique, so she did not state it outright—only said that the celestial signs were aberrant, the star patterns obscure, and that they must wait for the right moment.

The ministers looked up at the sky, obscured by dark clouds, and remained silent, not pressing her.

There weren't even any stars—wasn't that exactly what "obscure star patterns" meant?

They all turned to Chen Huai, silently signaling him.

Chen Huai stepped forward with a gentle expression and smiled: "Master Pan, didn't your elder brother, Pan Yu, join the military after passing the military examination?"

Pan Yun nodded: "I can calculate it—he is still safe."

"I inquired: it was his unit that discovered the infiltrating Wala forces; they were the first to engage, and he earned considerable merit. Combined with his achievements in the defense of Datong, he has now been promoted to Deputy Commander."

War was indeed the best opportunity for soldiers to rise; in barely a week, Pan Yu had been promoted from Captain to Deputy Commander.

Chen Huai immediately invited Pan Yun to accompany them—she could search for the young Emperor along the way, and also visit her brother in Datong. Why not?

Pan Yun glanced at them, knowing they feared she would run off.

She had intended to go to Datong anyway; upon hearing this, she nodded.

Cao Nai exhaled in relief and whispered to Chen Huai: "This person is extraordinary. Cultivators generally ignore worldly affairs, but she cares for family—you must keep her close."

Chen Huai agreed, but frowned: "The court has always resisted letting cultivators involve themselves in worldly matters. Their abilities are mysterious and uncanny; once they step into the public eye, the consequences may be endless."

"How could I not know?" Cao Nai said. "But times have changed. The nation is in peril—we have no choice now. First secure Jiangshan, then deal with their involvement in worldly affairs."

Chen Huai frowned, sensing Cao Nai's unspoken intent—he felt this was like cutting the bridge after crossing.

Warriors and martial artists shared one trait: loyalty.

After all, they risked their lives for advancement—if they weren't loyal, who would dare turn their back on their comrades?

Liang Cheng, his close friend, saw his frown and understood his thoughts. He stepped forward and shoved him lightly, whispering: "Solve the immediate crisis first. Deal with the rest later."

Chen Huai agreed, and parted ways with Cao Nai.

Cao Nai led the civil and military officials, wounded soldiers, and prisoners to Xuanfu. Chen Huai consolidated the remaining troops, grouped them together, and continued southeastward—though, per the Duke of Ying's instructions, he veered slightly east.

They marched swiftly, and along the way, they gradually encountered scattered deserters. Chen Huai absorbed them all, piecing together fragments of information from their accounts.

They had followed the imperial carriage. One night, thick clouds covered the sky, and the carriage was surrounded on all sides by Wala forces. They broke out with it, but the carriage moved too fast—they became separated.

The soldiers refused, and dared not admit they were deserters. They kept insisting: "We followed our Battalion Commander's lead. There were too many Wala soldiers. Our unit fought and fought until we lost contact with the main army. Later, we encountered another group near a place—just as we met them, a large Wala force came around from the south and crushed us again…"

"Wait—you say you encountered a large Wala force that came around from the south?"

"Yes, about three or four thousand strong, half mounted. Our two groups combined had barely a thousand men—how could we fight? We could only flee, fighting as we retreated. Slowly, only eight of us remained, so we formed a team and ran south." The soldier looked fearfully at Chen Huai: "General, we're not deserters—we only wanted to return south to report. Please don't punish our families."

Chen Huai knew well—they were deserters after defeat. The Emperor's army had numbered over a hundred thousand; now fewer than twenty thousand remained. The rest hadn't all died on the battlefield—they had run.

Chen Huai recalled the Duke of Ying's earlier warnings and instructions to him and Zhu Mian.

He knew the soldiers of Great Ming suffered terribly: one man conscripted, the whole family suffered. Garrison troops had become virtual serfs of local magnates and commanding officers, their entire families reduced to "serfs," forced to fight in war and farm in peace.

Once they fled, why would they ever return?

Most would simply vanish—better to report them dead; if not, report them missing, so their families wouldn't be implicated.

But if caught, it was different.

Chen Huai pondered, wondering whether to execute one as an example, when Pan Yun stepped forward and asked: "General Chen, will you petition the court for rewards on their behalf?"

Chen Huai: "Rewards?"

"Yes. Unless something unexpected happened, the other group they encountered must have been the Imperial Guard escorting the retreating Emperor." Pan Yun handed him a short dagger.

The soldiers didn't understand her words, but sensed their chance. They glanced at the dagger in her hand and shouted: "This dagger was given to Erzhu by a soldier! Erzhu—Erzhu—"

The soldier called over a round-faced, simple-looking soldier and urged: "Wasn't it that clean-skinned young soldier who gave it to you?"

"Yes, yes," Erzhu nodded frantically, bewildered. "The big brother who protected him died. A Wala soldier rode past and slashed at him—I blocked it with my blade. He was grateful I saved his life, so he gave me this dagger. Said it was a fine, valuable blade."

The soldier pulled him forward and yanked up his sleeve for Chen Huai to see: "General, look—his Hukou is split open. That's from blocking the blade for that clean-skinned young soldier."

Chen Huai's face had turned pale. As the soldier spoke, he fell silent, afraid.

Chen Huai clenched his fists and asked: "What was the name of the brother who protected him? Where did you part ways? Who was with him when you left?"

Chen Huai's face turned ashen, and the soldiers stepped back two paces in fear.

Chen Huai came to his senses and said: "You won't be punished—you protected the Emperor. When we return, I will petition the court for your rewards."

The soldiers stared wide-eyed: "Protected the Emperor?"

The soldiers now realized—the clean-skinned boy who had run with them through the rain, rolled in the mud, was the Emperor.

The soldiers were filled with excitement.

Under their guidance, Pan Yun and the others found Li Zhen's corpse.

He had been dismembered. Chen Huai found his head in the mud, pieced it together—but one leg was missing, nowhere to be found.

The soldiers searched everywhere nearby but could not find it.

Chen Huai had always disliked Li Zhen. Li Zhen was a hereditary marquis, and at a young age had attained the rank Chen Huai had spent his entire life striving for.

Though they were generations apart, fate had made it so that whenever Chen Huai, while guarding his post, acted arrogantly and illegally—seizing garrison lands—it was either Li Zhen's father or Li Zhen himself who came to investigate.

Thus, the two families were bitterly hostile.

But now, looking at Li Zhen's unblinking eyes, Chen Huai felt only sorrow. He silently closed them, then turned toward Xuanfu, his gaze burning: "Yang Jun—must be executed!"

How had those men slipped past Yang Jun to ambush them from the south?