Chapter 206: Head

Had the Jin Emperor gone mad?

The scene before him made Zheng Fan instinctively think of Murong Fu at the end of *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*.

The dream of dynasty and empire had truly become nothing more than a dream.

Still, perhaps because he had not interacted with Yu Ciming for very long, Zheng Fan did not feel much sorrow over it.

When all was said and done, a person's success depended not only on individual struggle.

It also depended on the course of history.

Compared with the Yan Emperor compared with the Qian Emperor even compared with the various Princes of Chu currently fighting over the succession—

Yu Ciming's starting position as Emperor of Jin had been catastrophically bad.

If events had followed the larger current of history, the partition of Jin among the Three Great Clans had probably been inevitable.

All Yu Ciming had done was struggle desperately from the throne while the tide swallowed him.

Once he had seen hope.

And behind that hope lay an even deeper despair.

What Zheng Fan did not know was that when the Jin Emperor left Yanjing to return home, Zhao Jiulang had once discussed this Emperor who had personally opened South Gate Pass with the advisers in his household.

Zhao Jiulang had said that if Yu Ciming had been born in the middle period of a dynasty, he might truly have become a ruler capable of restoring it.

He lacked neither decisiveness nor ruthlessness.

He possessed courage.

And even carried a refusal to be bound by convention.

Unfortunately place a man like that at the dying end of a dynasty and things became different.

If he did nothing, perhaps the state could limp along a little longer.

The moment he began thrashing around he would squeeze out the last trace of vitality and make the dynasty die even faster.

A heart higher than Heaven.

A life thinner than paper.

Perhaps those words had been written precisely for the Jin Emperor.

Zheng Fan silently rose.

He had no interest in accepting the Jin Emperor's reward.

For one thing, ever since awakening in this world, even though the Demon Kings around him had created fairly comfortable conditions, Zheng Fan had always remained restrained when it came to desire.

More importantly with Siniang beside him, he genuinely had little interest in these ordinary beauties outside.

Zheng Fan cupped his hands toward the Jin Emperor.

"Your Majesty.

"This general is a subject of Yan."

The Jin Emperor frowned faintly.

"We know.

"But Our Great Jin can give you more.

"In the future, beloved Minister may become Grand Pillar of Great Jin—even Supreme Marshal commanding all soldiers and horses beneath Heaven for Great Jin!"

"Your Majesty.

"This general has no interest in determining whether you have truly gone mad or are merely pretending.

"I only wish to say this:

"If you are genuinely mad—then perhaps that is a blessing.

"If reality is too cruel, living inside a dream can also be a kind of happiness.

"But if Your Majesty is only pretending—then this general sincerely believes there is no need.

"The situation has already reached this point.

"The people below no longer care about you.

"The people above cannot even be bothered to care.

"This is not because Your Majesty's performance is convincing.

"It is because—you have already fallen into the role of an actor upon the stage.

"No matter how lifelike the performance—you have still lost the qualification to enter the great hall."

The Jin Emperor's eyes widened in fury.

He stared directly at Zheng Fan.

In this era actors possessed no social status.

Society generally regarded them as lowly people.

Zheng Fan's meaning was simple.

Your Majesty you no longer possess that status.

You no longer possess that qualification.

There is no need to keep acting.

Whether the Jin Emperor could understand him or not—

Zheng Fan continued on his own.

"Truthfully—it would be better to leave yourself a little dignity."

Leave Jin a little dignity.

With that Zheng Fan bowed and withdrew.

Only the Jin Emperor remained where he stood staring blankly.

His lips trembled.

...

After leaving the room—

Zheng Fan drew a deep breath.

He felt as though his chest were packed with oppressive air he could not release.

If the Jin Emperor had completely overplayed his hand and lost every remaining piece of capital then Zheng Fan's own situation felt more like being carved apart slowly by a blunt knife.

He had followed the Yan army south into Qian.

Battle after battle.

The troops beneath him continuously suffered losses.

He thought he had finally accumulated enough merit and experience.

He thought he had finally seen hope of becoming a City Governor with his own territory planting fields, developing a base, and growing gradually.

Instead for no apparent reason he had ended up trapped inside this fortified manor, fighting an equally inexplicable defensive battle.

The night assault and today's siege had both failed to breach the walls.

But Zheng Fan's own losses were hardly small.

Everything he possessed was here.

Use one piece lose one piece.

It felt like someone in a later age borrowing money, going into debt to open a hotpot restaurant only to discover the shop was losing money every single day.

That kind of torment was genuine.

"Master, Heaven never seals off every road."

A'Ming casually comforted him while continuing to drink from the liquid inside his waterskin.

Truthfully the Demon Kings were far more open-minded than Zheng Fan.

They had experienced too much.

Their sense of scale was different.

Their understanding of "everything going up in flames" and "rising again from nothing" was on a completely different level from Zheng Fan's.

"I'm only worried about where our road actually leads."

"Master.

"The road is—"

"If you're about to say 'beneath our feet,' shut up."

A'Ming shut up.

Zheng Fan raised his head again.

The evening clouds had been dyed crimson by the setting sun.

Suddenly emotion stirred inside him.

In a scene like this shouldn't a knight appear beneath the sunset and come save him?

People always began fantasizing uncontrollably in situations like these.

Especially when surrounded by a superior enemy force.

To be fair, had Zheng Fan's men not all been elite troops had they been raw recruits or routed soldiers gathered to fill numbers this fortified manor might already have fallen.

They could continue holding.

Zheng Fan trusted the Blind Man's ability to keep morale stable.

But would Yan actually send reinforcements?

Because even Zheng Fan could now see clearly the Jin Emperor was basically useless.

Of course, this fantasy of some knight riding beneath the sunset to save him could remain only inside his head.

There was no chance Zheng Fan would say it aloud.

Otherwise the Demon Kings beside him would laugh themselves sick.

"Pfft!"

A'Ming suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

Of course, it was not his blood.

It was what he had just drunk.

Zheng Fan turned toward him.

A'Ming took out a handkerchief and silently wiped the corner of his mouth.

"I've been drinking too much blood lately.

"Feeling a little bloated."

At that moment, Fan Li's voice suddenly sounded inside Zheng Fan's mind.

"I reckon that ain't a knight.

"Should be the Monkey King in love."

Only then did Zheng Fan realize the Blind Man had never closed their mental link.

A'Ming could no longer hold himself together either.

Since the secret was already exposed he simply clutched his stomach, crouched down, and laughed until his belly hurt.

"............" Zheng Fan.

...

The wolf cub was making trip after trip carrying arrows toward the front.

His arms and legs were short, but surprisingly strong.

He ran back and forth without seeming tired at all.

The little sword attendant sat silently nearby watching him.

Finally she could not resist.

"Don't you get tired?"

The wolf cub wiped sweat from his forehead.

"We're fighting a battle."

"What does fighting a battle have to do with a little runt like you?"

The wolf cub looked at the girl, who stood only half a head taller than him.

"You never fought in a war before, did you?"

"Who says I haven't!"

The little sword attendant considered herself someone who had fought in battle.

Her Master had taken her into one before.

Beside the Bian River her Master had shattered a hundred-meter stretch of frozen river all by himself.

True it had accomplished absolutely nothing.

But among children one could never admit defeat verbally.

The wolf cub seemed unimpressed.

"Our tribe used to fight all the time.

"Fight enough battles and you understand one principle."

"What principle?"

"War doesn't have any principles."

"............" the little sword attendant.

"Heh heh.

"I learned that from Uncle Blind.

"He and Master talk like that all the time."

"Do you understand what they mean?"

"Nope."

"Then why copy them?"

"Don't understand it.

"But sounds really impressive."

"Fine."

"I never studied.

"Only learned a few characters over the last half year.

"I don't understand big principles.

"But I know that whether we attack someone or someone attacks us—we can't lose.

"If we lose a battle—we might die."

"Sometimes living isn't particularly meaningful either."

"Uncle Blind said people who say things like that usually run faster than anyone when death actually comes."

"You're annoying!"

"Heh heh heh.

"Fourth Aunt said when a woman tells you that—means you've got a chance."

"Were you raised by these people?" the little sword attendant asked.

The wolf cub hesitated and thought for a moment.

"Sort of."

He had come from a convict tribe in the desert.

Back then, he had ridden on Liang Cheng's shoulder all the way from the desert to Beifeng Commandery.

For more than half a year now he had lived together with everyone.

"They'll corrupt you sooner or later."

The wolf cub curled his lip.

"And you?"

He was only one breath away from saying:

Your Master was an idiot.

The little sword attendant immediately choked on her words.

The other side always attacked her from this angle.

It genuinely made her angry.

Not at the wolf cub.

At her own Master.

If her Master had been just a little more normal if instead of breaking ice for no reason he had charged into several hundred Yan soldiers, killed them gloriously, and died in battle then she would have had a much easier time boasting now.

The dignified Second Sword of Qian had died in such a... speechless fashion.

The wolf cub sat down on the ground.

He pulled a cold mantou from inside his clothes and began chewing.

The little sword attendant raised her head.

Looked at the sky.

Then asked, "Do you think we're going to die?"

"We'll die eventually."

"I mean this time."

"Dunno.

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"Look.

"You've still got time to sit here thinking about useless stuff like this.

"Means even you don't really believe those Jin people outside can get in."

The little sword attendant nodded.

"Makes sense.

"But I'm curious.

"Why did you choose to follow them in the first place?"

"Because they promised they'd help us rebuild our tribe one day."

"You believed them?"

"Back when those big desert tribes used to force convict tribes like ours to fight for them—they said the same thing."

"Then why?"

The wolf cub held up the half-eaten mantou in his hand.

"This mantou—has filling."

...

Inside the Jin army camp outside the fortified manor the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.

Situ Jiangong did not come bother Yu Huacheng.

He had personally watched the entire siege beginning that morning.

Sometimes a defeat truly was not the commander's fault.

Without enough proper siege equipment capable of creating a real threat, trying to quickly break through a defensive work guarded by a sizable number of elite soldiers was simply extraordinarily difficult.

Situ Jiangong believed that even if he replaced Yu Huacheng as commander he could not do any better.

So there was no point appearing just to add pressure.

Running over to throw out sour remarks and veiled mockery would have been far too boring.

Yu Huacheng sat silently inside the command tent.

A map lay before him.

On that map the fortified manor was almost too small to notice.

Yet the night assault and the daytime siege had already told him one fact clearly:

Breaking that fortified manor quickly was nearly impossible.

Unless...

"I will not act."

The Sword Saint seemed to see through his younger brother's thoughts.

He spoke immediately.

"If I act, the nature of this entire matter changes.

"Yan may become genuinely enraged.

"At that point—they may well bury the entire Yu Clan alongside him."

Yu Huacheng instinctively rubbed between his brows.

His head genuinely hurt.

If his elder brother were willing to intervene breaking the fortified manor would become easy.

There would be no need for the Sword Saint to kill every defender personally.

All he had to do was sweep one section of wall clean with his sword.

Create a stable opening.

Let the soldiers behind him follow.

The fortress would fall.

But Yu Huacheng also understood.

People of the martial world naturally had their own rules.

It was not that they could never draw swords for the state.

But once one crossed that boundary it might provoke Yan and shatter an unspoken agreement both sides understood.

At present there was no need to do something so dangerous.

The Sword Saint instead asked curiously, "Your elder brother does not understand warfare.

"But last night, it looked as though the soldiers scaling the walls were only a little short of breaking into the fortress.

"Why did today's formal assault achieve almost nothing?"

"Elder Brother.

"Perhaps the Yan troops inside the fortress are also unaccustomed to defensive battles.

"Last night they naturally panicked somewhat.

"But the Yan commander opposite us—that man named Zheng Fan—truly understands warfare.

"In only one night, he actually adjusted everything and restored order.

"Moreover—many of Zheng Fan's troops are barbarians.

"After today's siege ended, many soldiers who withdrew said the barbarians defending the walls were exceptionally skilled both in close combat and archery.

"Right now—unless Little Brother spends another ten days or so constructing arrow towers, battering rams, and other proper siege equipment—continuing to attack with today's crude methods will cost far too much."

"So that's how it is."

The Sword Saint nodded.

"Then don't rush.

"Take your time.

"These walls aren't particularly high."

Yu Huacheng smiled bitterly.

"Elder Brother.

"At present, we don't even know whether the Yan court will follow this tacit understanding of ours and allow us to remove the Jin Emperor with our own hands.

"Even if the Yan court truly turns a blind eye—if several times our numbers spend so many days besieging a mere fortified manor and still cannot take it—the Yan will laugh their teeth out."

"The scabbard—will never be more important than the sword."

Face could sometimes be extremely valuable.

At other times it was worthless.

"Elder Brother is correct.

"Then Little Brother will proceed slowly?"

"Not too slowly either.

"Otherwise both sides lose face."

"Little Brother understands.

"Elder Brother need not remain confined inside my camp this entire time."

Meaning if you're not planning to fight, go find somewhere to entertain yourself.

The Sword Saint shook his head.

"You don't understand."

"What does Elder Brother mean?"

"You think I want to stay here?"

"Could there be something unusual inside that fortified manor?"

"What exactly it is—

"I don't know.

"Just don't resent your elder brother for sitting in your command tent doing nothing and refusing to leave."

"Elder Brother speaks too seriously."

"No.

"Not seriously enough.

"Huacheng.

"Although Martial Artists and cultivators in this age who can withstand thousands upon thousands of soldiers basically do not exist—if there really is someone like your elder brother—then trying to take the enemy commander's head from within a chaotic army is not necessarily impossible."

As he spoke the Sword Saint reached out.

He rubbed his younger brother's head.

Slowly he said, "This head—your elder brother hasn't touched enough yet."

(End of Chapter)