Chapter 702: Buried Alive

Of course, the court had not abandoned its final sliver of hope. Since the three major sects were proving useless, the court simply contacted Shang Chaozong and Meng Shanming directly.

By this point, the court was practically ready to grant whatever they asked. The message, both explicit and implicit, was that Shang Chaozong should name his conditions. Anything could be discussed.

The reasoning was simple. Whatever accounts might have to be settled later, they first had to survive the present crisis and placate Shang Chaozong. If they could not even get through what was in front of them, what was the point of talking about settling accounts in the future?

...

The army finally emerged from the muddy ground. All four legs of Zhang Hu's mount were caked in mud. He reined in and looked back, waiting for the carriage carrying Meng Shanming to climb out of the mire behind them.

The soldiers coming ashore one after another were also covered in mud. Most had their trouser legs rolled up and their stinking shoes slung over their shoulders, exhausted almost beyond endurance.

The prisoners hauling the baggage were in even worse shape. The Yan troops had at least eaten their fill, while the prisoners had received little more than watery broth. Their ears had been cut off, leaving them wounded, and now they had been forced to carry and drag heavy loads. They were utterly spent. Some collapsed the moment they reached firm ground and did not want to move again.

That was precisely why Meng Shanming had kept them alive for the time being. The flooded terrain had made marching difficult, so he had used the prisoners as laborers.

Whenever a prisoner lay down, the Yan soldiers escorting them immediately went over with fists and boots until the man struggled back to his feet.

Zhang Hu turned a blind eye to the sight. He simply waited until the carriage came up, then went over to meet it.

Accompanying the carriage to one side while the remaining troops came ashore, Zhang Hu tentatively asked Meng Shanming through the carriage window, "Are these prisoners really going to be handed to the court as bargaining chips in the negotiations?"

Meng Shanming's face was expressionless. "Notify every unit. Once they are on firm ground, bury them alive on the spot."

"Bury them alive?" Zhang Hu was startled.

Meng Shanming slowly closed his eyes and said nothing more. Zhang Hu understood that he had heard correctly and went to carry out the order.

What did it mean to bury them alive? Exactly that: bury them while they were still living.

As far as Zhang Hu was concerned, if they were going to kill the prisoners anyway, simply slaughtering them would be easier. He did not understand why Meng Shanming insisted on such a horrifying method, but Meng Shanming's word was a military order.

After the various forces emerging from the Qunluo Mountains received Meng Shanming's command, they immediately gathered the prisoners held by their respective units and forced them to dig pits. Countless enormous pits were dug, after which the prisoners were forced down into them.

The final scene was too horrible to look upon. In pit after pit, prisoners beyond counting wailed and begged for mercy.

Yet everything remained under Meng Shanming's control. The prisoners had been wounded, denied enough food, exhausted by hauling heavy loads through the mire, and then forced to dig their own pits. Their strength had long since failed. There were six hundred thousand of them, but Meng Shanming had already broken those six hundred thousand elite troops so thoroughly that even gathered together, they no longer had the strength to resist.

A Yan soldier needed only a kick or a light shove to send one tumbling into a pit. Once down there, few had the strength to climb back out.

Yan soldiers ringed the great pits, shoveling earth down into them. From below came cries to Heaven and earth, a sound of misery beyond human endurance. Anyone who still had enough strength to try climbing out was shot down by the archers surrounding the pits.

Under a clear blue sky, the blazing sun looked upon all living things as ants, indifferent to the tragedy unfolding on the earth below.

When every pit had finally been filled in, the world fell silent. Those buried underground could no longer make a sound, while the Yan soldiers on the surface, having witnessed it all, seemed to have no desire to speak either.

For these killers, it was a sight they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

Not everyone was killed, of course. Meng Shanming spared a small number of prisoners and even let them eat a full meal. He ordered them to carry back everything they had seen and heard, and sent a message with them as well.

Those prisoners who had escaped death all but crawled and stumbled away. The terror they had endured was something they too would never forget for as long as they lived.

...

The court in Song's capital was in an uproar. Some remained neutral; others argued until their faces were red and their necks swollen. The cause was Meng Shanming's demand for a huge quantity of grain and fodder, and the situation was unfolding exactly as Gao Jiancheng had expected.

Faced with the threat of the Yan army invading deep into its territory, Song had originally intended to propose peace talks. But once Yanjing took the initiative and requested negotiations, Song realized that Luo Zhao's army threatening Yanjing had produced results. It immediately raised its price, adding as a condition of withdrawal that Shang Chaozong and Meng Shanming be dealt with.

Song knew Yan would not agree. It knew perfectly well that the Yan court currently had little ability to do anything to Shang Chaozong or Meng Shanming. But that was exactly why Song added the condition.

Negotiations were like that. One side made an exorbitant opening demand and waited to be bargained down, all to secure more favorable terms when both sides finally stopped fighting.

After all, who would withdraw first, how would they withdraw, how far would the first withdrawal go, how would the prisoners be released, and how many would be released first? Every point was a problem. Neither side trusted the other.

Who could have expected that once Song added its conditions, Meng Shanming would add a harsh condition of his own, demanding an enormous quantity of provisions in exchange for the prisoners?

The forces under Meng Shanming were already threatening Song. If Song then provided them with ample provisions, and Meng Shanming suddenly tore away the false veil of peace talks, the consequences would be unthinkable.

How could the Song court agree to that lightly? Yet if it refused, it feared Meng Shanming would seize the excuse to run wild.

Caught between the two, how could the court in Song's capital not quarrel? Everyone had his own reasons and no one would yield. The arguments went on without end, continuing for two straight days.

Just then, a cry came from outside. "Report!"

A eunuch hurried in looking as though both his parents had died. The hall fell silent. Under the eyes of everyone present, the eunuch dropped to his knees with a thud, holding a memorial in both hands as tears streamed down his face. "Your Majesty, an urgent report from the front! Meng Shanming, that old villain, has struck ruthlessly. Of the six hundred thousand sons of our Great Song, only one hundred messengers were released. Every one of the rest was buried alive!"

The moment those words were spoken, every face in the great hall changed. All stared in utter horror. Buried alive? Meng Shanming had buried six hundred thousand elite Song troops alive?

High above them, the Song emperor Mu Zhuozhen went deathly pale. He rose unsteadily and asked with difficulty, "What did you say?"

Chief Steward Mo Gao hurried down, took the memorial from the kneeling eunuch, and returned with it.

Still kneeling, the eunuch looked up through his tears. "Your Majesty, six hundred thousand sons of our Great Song were buried alive by that old villain Meng Shanming! The old villain said he had received word that our court was arguing over the provisions and had never intended to give them to him in the first place. He also said the Song army was still pressing toward Yanjing and showed no sincerity in negotiating, that we were merely stringing him along. He said that since we wanted to fight, he would oblige us. Since Song did not care whether its own sons lived or died, he saw no reason to be courteous. He therefore ordered all six hundred thousand men buried alive!"

Naturally, these were all excuses Meng Shanming had prepared. He had followed Niu Youdao's warning, though the matter of the Song army continuing to press toward Yanjing was something Meng Shanming himself had added.

Once Meng Shanming learned that the Song army was still advancing on Yanjing, he was hardly going to let the opportunity pass. He immediately thought to add this charge as well. On the surface, he was accusing the Song army of breaking faith and Song of lacking sincerity in the negotiations. In reality, he was dumping the whole bucket of shit onto Luo Zhao's head.

Meng Shanming was certain that neither the Song court nor the Song emperor would be willing to shoulder responsibility for this. That meant Luo Zhao would have to shoulder it instead.

Luo Zhao had made a fine calculation, intending to use Yanjing as a bargaining chip in the negotiations. But now that Meng Shanming had crossed hands with him, how could he possibly let Luo Zhao have an easy time?

Both were generals who commanded armies in war. Naturally, both knew what could do the greatest damage. Nothing was more dangerous than unstable military morale.

Luo Zhao was the commander of the Song army. Once the charge that he had disregarded the lives of six hundred thousand sons of Song was pinned on him, the consequences were easy to imagine.

When two states were at war, every means was fair game. Meng Shanming would show no mercy. He, too, was trying to destroy Luo Zhao.

"Your Majesty, Luo Zhao has brought disaster upon the state! We told him long ago to withdraw and return to reinforce us, but he defied the imperial decree. Relying on the military power in his hands, he stubbornly went his own way. Now he has caused six hundred thousand elite soldiers of our Great Song to be buried alive! Luo Zhao is a villain who has brought disaster upon the state!" someone cried out in grief.

This was one of the men who had first advocated recalling Luo Zhao. He had finally found proof that he had been right.

A military official immediately rebuked him. "Nonsense! This is clearly nothing more than Meng Shanming's excuse. How can you fall for it?"

The court instantly erupted into argument again.

Standing before the throne with the memorial in both hands, Mu Zhuozhen's expression was terrible and his hands trembled. Suddenly he raised his eyes and shouted angrily, "All of you, shut your mouths!"

The court fell silent at once.

After a moment of stillness, Chancellor Zi Pingxiu cupped his hands. "Your Majesty, whether this was an excuse or something else no longer matters. By doing this, Meng Shanming has plainly disregarded the negotiations between our two states. What he intends is already obvious. Luo Zhao must be urgently ordered to withdraw and return to reinforce us at once!"

Mu Zhuozhen's cheek twitched. Then he said sharply, "Breach Yanjing. Massacre the city! Avenge the sons of our Great Song!"

With that single sentence, he made the final decision: Yanjing would be massacred first, and only then would the army withdraw.

At this point, Song had started the war yet suffered a devastating loss. Six hundred thousand elite troops had been buried alive, an atrocity shocking to hear of. If Song did not bring back at least some victory to show for the campaign, what would everyone throughout the state think of him as emperor?

...

A Yan convoy of more than ten carriages traveled along the official road, carrying over a hundred large chests. Flags requesting a parley flew from the vehicles.

When the convoy reached a stretch of road running through the mountains, several Song cultivators responsible for patrols emerged from the forest.

This place was far from the main Song force attacking Yan, but the Song army could not possibly leave its rear without scouts. They had to guard against a surprise attack.

Seeing the parley flags, the Song cultivators revealed themselves and stopped the carriages.

After both sides confirmed each other's identities, the Yan officer commanding the escort took out a letter and handed it over. "Grand Commander-in-Chief Luo previously sent Commander Meng a gift. We have come on Commander Meng's orders to return his courtesy with a generous gift! This is a letter written personally by Commander Meng. Please pass it on to the Grand Commander-in-Chief."

Once the exchange was complete, the cultivators did not make trouble for the men escorting the gifts. There was no need. When two armies were at war, envoys were not killed, so they let the Yan party leave.

The gifts filling more than ten carriage loads of chests did make the cultivators curious, however. They had no idea what the hell was inside, though they could smell a foul stench. They immediately opened one of the chests to inspect it.

They loosened the ropes securing the chest to the carriage and had only just unfastened its latch when there came a bang. The lid sprang open by itself, startling the cultivators into wary stances.

A mass of things gushed out of the chest like water from a spring, spilling in a wet rush all over the ground amid a wave of nauseating stench.

What had come out looked like wood-ear mushrooms. What were those things? When the men focused and finally saw clearly what they were, one of them covered his mouth and retched.

Ears!

They were all human ears!

The chest had been packed full of ears. During transport, they had swollen and begun to rot, so the moment the chest was opened, they spilled out on their own.

The dense heap of ears made the skin crawl. Even though these men were cultivators, it was the first time any of them had seen anything so revolting.

So many ears had spilled across the ground that there was no way to fit them all back into the chest.

It took the cultivators some time to force themselves to adjust. Then they looked at the hundred-odd chests still loaded on the carriages and exchanged glances. The same question was visible in every pair of eyes.

Could all those chests be filled with human ears?

The more they thought about it, the more horrifying it became. Gooseflesh had risen all over their bodies, and every hair stood on end.

[End of Chapter 702]