Chapter 339: No Prisoners

Night fell.

The winter wind cut like a knife.

Inside one of the army camps, a broad-shouldered man sat carefully wiping every part of the armor in his hands. His fingertips lingered over each dent and scar in the metal.

“Heh. I say, when you’re hugging women inside the red tents, are you ever this careful?”

The Squad Leader lifted the tent flap and entered.

He sat down on the felt mat and immediately pulled off his shoes.

White steam rose from both feet at once.

The smell followed just as quickly.

The man cleaning the armor did not react.

He seemed long accustomed to scenes like this.

Instead, he said:

“When a man enters a red tent and gets his arms around a woman, it’s like someone starving half to death finally getting a meat bun. He wants to swallow the whole thing in one bite.

“Who still has the patience to chew slowly?”

“That’s true.

“Heh.”

The Squad Leader pointed toward the Black Dragon Banner standing inside the tent.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll carry the banner too.”

This squad consisted of standard-bearers.

Ever since the man had been transferred in from the penal troops, he had already known what role he would be expected to assume on the battlefield.

“Yes.”

The Squad Leader rubbed his hands together.

“I heard you were originally supposed to be sent to Shengle?”

“Yes.

“That is what the escort officer told me.”

Ran Min had indeed been intended for Shengle.

But when the Marquis of Jingnan marched to war, thirty thousand Jingnan Army troops departed as the main force, while a batch of penal soldiers was requisitioned in the rear to transport military supplies forward.

Ran Min was included among them.

So he never reached Shengle.

Once the military supplies had been delivered, the various formations of the Eastern Expedition Army—many of which had suffered enormous losses—began selecting young, strong men from among the penal troops to replenish their ranks.

Ran Min came from Tiancheng Commandery.

He spoke with a Tiancheng accent.

Because of that, he was selected into one of the formations that had originally belonged to the Imperial Guards and assigned to a standard-bearing squad.

He had earned no military merit.

But his timing was fortunate.

The army happened to be short of men.

So he moved directly from the penal ranks into the regular army.

“What did you do to get sent here?”

“Killed someone.”

“Heh.

“Killing people here isn’t a crime.

“It counts as military merit.”

“Yes.”

“Truthfully, I can hardly wait anymore.

“These past few months, I keep having nightmares.

“I dream that the Wang River is covered with corpses from our Yan army.

“Haaah.

“Every time I close my eyes, it’s like I can see them in the river shouting at me.

“They’re cold.

“They’re freezing.

“They died unwillingly.

“They keep calling for us to avenge them.”

The Battle of the Wang River had cost the Yan army terribly.

The Left-Wing Army had been almost completely annihilated.

Tens of thousands of Yan soldiers had been driven into the river.

Countless men drowned.

“Soon,” Ran Min said.

Then he continued wiping the armor.

“Yes.

“Soon.

“When the time comes, we’ll show those Chu bastards and savage animals what real men of Yan look like.”

Ran Min did not continue agreeing.

He had arrived afterward.

He had not experienced that disastrous battle.

So he could not truly share the obsession carried by these veterans who had survived it.

“You like that armor, don’t you?”

Ran Min nodded.

“I do.”

“Then kill hard tomorrow.

“One day, it’ll truly belong to you.”

Ran Min nodded again.

Calmly, he said:

“Mm.”

...

During this period, the Prince of Cheng’s Residence in Yingdu had long since become accustomed to the Marquis of Jingnan’s way of doing things.

When the First Prince had commanded the Eastern Expedition Army, both sides had still preserved a certain amount of room and mutual respect.

The Marquis of Jingnan was different.

He was direct to the point of brutality.

In his eyes, the so-called Prince of Cheng was little more than the Prefect of Yingdu.

The former civil and military officials of Dacheng were little more than registrars, yamen runners, and constables.

Dacheng’s army had been broken apart and directly reorganized into Yan formations.

The Marquis of Jingnan did not care whether the people of Dacheng thought he was killing the donkey after it finished grinding the grain.

Nor did he care if anyone complained that the way he ate was simply too ugly.

The constant redeployments and changes of station during this period functioned almost like field training and integration.

They forced the various armies to become accustomed to Tian Wujing’s style of command.

At the same time, they forced everyone in Dacheng from Situ Yu at the top to local officials below to become accustomed to this new atmosphere.

Inside what had once been Dacheng’s imperial palace and was now the Prince of Cheng’s Residence, the current Prince of Cheng, Situ Yu, was sitting through a lesson.

The man teaching him was a former Hanlin scholar from the palace.

Situ Yu might no longer be an emperor, but he was still young.

He still needed an education.

And his birth mother—the principal wife of Situ Lei and former Empress of Dacheng—remained alive.

She had extremely high expectations for her son’s studies.

Of course, any official who possessed genuine administrative ability was already running himself ragged during this period.

One order after another arrived from the Marquis of Jingnan like death warrants.

No one dared slacken in the slightest.

Only after the tide went out could one see who had never been wearing trousers.

This old Hanlin scholar, already past forty, understood practically nothing about practical affairs.

So the only task left for him was teaching Situ Yu.

Situ Yu listened carefully.

Even though he did not believe most of what his teacher taught him would ever prove useful.

But at this point in his life, there was no longer much reason for him to learn anything truly useful.

Put another way, he was no longer living according to his own inclinations.

He was living according to how other people needed to see him.

Live properly.

Live obediently.

Only then could he live long.

Only then could this hereditary title of Prince of Cheng remain within the Situ Clan generation after generation.

Perhaps that was his mother’s greatest hope for him.

When the lesson ended, a maid brought over bowls of tremella soup as a late-night meal.

The old Hanlin scholar sat at the table.

He did not stand on ceremony.

He picked up a spoon and began eating.

Situ Yu sat beside him and accompanied his teacher.

“Your Majesty.

“My lessons are boring, are they not?”

In private, the old minister still addressed Situ Yu as “Your Majesty” instead of “Your Highness.”

“Master Cui, why would you say that?

“Master Cui’s learning is profound.

“For this Prince to receive your instruction is a great honor.”

“Heh.”

The old Hanlin scholar shook his head.

“Your Majesty, you are still young.

“There is no need to live with such old, exhausted heaviness.

“You will only damage your own vitality for nothing.”

Put another way: thinking too much was bad for the body.

Situ Yu did not argue.

He simply said:

“Thank you, Master, for the reminder.”

“When the war is over, Your Majesty should submit a memorial requesting permission to go to Yanjing and pay respects to the Emperor of Yan.

“The first memorial will certainly be refused.

“The second will certainly be refused too.

“Keep submitting them.

“Continue until the Emperor of Yan finally agrees.”

As the old Hanlin scholar said this, the worn age on his face seemed to disappear.

A trace of shrewdness actually appeared within his clouded eyes.

Situ Yu froze for a moment.

Then he immediately stood and adopted the posture of a student receiving instruction.

“A teacher transmits the Way, imparts knowledge, and resolves doubts.

“But if one traces it to the root, scholarship is not so different from an old village craftsman teaching his apprentice a trade.

“In the end, the point is to allow the student to establish himself and survive in this world.

“So these words—

I must say them.”

“Yes.

“Situ Yu respectfully awaits your instruction.”

“The current Emperor of Yan is a broad-minded and ambitious sovereign.

“For Your Majesty to encounter a ruler like this may actually be a stroke of fortune.

“As matters stand now, restoring the state and recovering Dacheng’s sovereign status— forget it.

“There is nothing to think about.

“At least for the present, there is no hope visible whatsoever.

“So I ask Your Majesty to put aside all other thoughts.

“Become an obedient subject.

“Twenty years.

“Forty years.

“Sixty years.

“Perhaps a hundred.

“One day, when wind and storm rise again beneath Heaven, your descendants may still have the opportunity to restore what was lost.”

“Yes.

“Situ Yu has been instructed.”

“First preserve the fief.

“Even if all that remains is Yingdu, that is enough.

“So Your Majesty must understand the situation.

“Cooperate with the Emperor of Yan.

“Perform this play properly.

“What does Yan want now?

“Is it not the image of all beneath Heaven willingly turning their hearts toward Great Yan?

“Then give it to them.

“Follow them.

“Cling close.

“Submit.

“Make the Emperor of Yan feel embarrassed to cut your holdings any further.

“As long as you are not sent to Yanjing to live as an idle noble, then a seed of hope remains.”

“But the war has not yet ended.

“Even where it is going...

“This Prince cannot say.”

“Your Majesty.

“This old minister knows nothing of military affairs.

“But during these days, after leaving my office, I have often walked through the streets and climbed the city walls to look around.

“An amateur watches the spectacle.

“And in this old minister’s eyes, the atmosphere here right now is very good.

“The Marquis of Jingnan may be somewhat overbearing.

“But in chaos like this, perhaps only an iron hand can restore order quickly.”

Situ Yu nodded.

Then, drums began to sound.

The first drumbeats came from the commander’s encampment outside the city.

Then one military drum after another answered from the surrounding formations.

The sound spread through every camp outside Yingdu.

The great drums within the city joined them as well.

“This is...”

The old Hanlin scholar stood.

“Beating the drums to assemble the generals.”

He clenched one fist.

Then sat down again.

Then clenched it once more, as though preparing to smash it against the stone table.

He hesitated and ultimately did not.

But the excitement on his face could no longer be hidden.

He still waved his fist hard.

“They’re finally going to fight.

“Clean them out!

“Clean out those savage beasts!

“Clean them out!”

The old Hanlin scholar’s home lay east of the Wang River.

...

As the drums rolled across the night, one military camp after another erupted into motion.

Regular soldiers.

Auxiliaries.

Laborers.

Everyone was summoned according to the orders of his superior.

Armor was put on.

Warhorses were led from their stables.

One commander after another at the rank of Assistant General or above left his own station at full speed and raced toward the central command tent.

Inside Yingdu, countless people were awakened from sleep by the thunder of drums.

Yet no one cursed.

No one complained.

Quite the opposite.

Everyone was excited.

Because when those drums sounded, every person understood: the battle was finally beginning!

...

Beat the drums.

Assemble the generals.

The man beating the central war drum was Li Fusheng.

The closer one came to the commander’s tent, the more the drums sounded like thunder.

Outside the central command tent stood rows of white candles and an offering table.

The Marquis of Jingnan stood with his back to everyone.

When the drums finally ceased, several rows of commanders had already assembled behind him.

Every one had arrived on time.

All held their breath.

All waited for the Marquis of Jingnan to speak.

Tian Wujing stepped backward.

Then dropped to one knee before the offering table.

Behind him, dozens of generals knelt as one.

“Tonight, we offer rites for the tens of thousands of sons of Great Yan who died at the Battle of the Wang River.

“May their souls return and rest in peace.”

“May their souls return and rest in peace!”

“May their souls return and rest in peace!”

The Marquis of Jingnan rose first.

The generals behind him slowly stood as well.

Then Tian Wujing spoke:

“ALL GENERALS—HEAR MY ORDERS!”

“THIS GENERAL AWAITS COMMAND!”

“THIS GENERAL AWAITS COMMAND!”

Every man dropped to his knees again.

A killing aura filled the night.

Everyone knew that the orders opening the great battle were about to descend.

“The first military order:

“From tonight onward—east of the Wang River—savages, and men of Chu—their heads shall count as military merit.

“NO PRISONERS!”

————

Today was groundwork.

Tomorrow I’ll try for an explosive update.

I’d also like to recommend a friend’s book, *Harry Potter: The Invincible Top Student*. Anyone interested can take a look.

[End of Chapter 339]