Chapter 366: Gale

Yesterday, Ran Min and several of his men went to Yanjing’s most famous Quande Restaurant and ate roast duck.

The ducks were ruinously expensive, but every man got one to himself, and by the time they finished, grease shone all over their mouths. After that, Ran Min treated the group to another round of pleasure in one of the capital’s Red Tents.

Truthfully, they had not originally planned to go to a Red Tent. Since they had made it all the way to the capital, surely they ought to visit somewhere a little more respectable—somewhere they could brag about afterward.

The problem came when they reached the elegant pleasure house they had chosen. Ran Min had traveled widely and seen plenty of the world, but the men under him immediately felt their calves begin to cramp. They did not even dare look at the girls before begging Ran Min to take them somewhere else.

The place was simply too immaculate, too grand, too lavish. Every last one of them had been born with mud between his toes. Even if they managed to get a girl into their arms inside a place like that, they would be too tense to enjoy themselves. And if the tension in their heads spread downward and made something else go limp, that would be a joke worth remembering for the rest of their lives.

So the group marched enthusiastically toward Juchun Pavilion—then, with even greater enthusiasm, turned around and headed for Xizi Alley in the northern part of the city.

“Red Tent” was really just a general name for this sort of establishment. In many places, a red curtain hanging across the entrance to a tent meant the women inside were in the flesh trade. It was much like certain hair salons in later generations that displayed a barber’s sign despite not owning so much as a pair of scissors.

Simple. Honest. Familiar. Peaceful.

Because Ran Min had killed a savage leader, he had not only received a considerable sum in reward money; after being absorbed into the Jingnan Army proper, he had also been appointed directly as a Squad Leader, commanding more than ten men.

His trip to Yanjing this time was simply part of the constant traffic between front and capital now that the campaign was winding down. Reports, official documents, and negotiators had to move back and forth without pause. Ran Min’s unit had been ordered to escort a Vice Director from the Ministry of War, who had participated in the front-line negotiations, back to Yanjing to report.

They were not due to depart for the return journey for another three days, which had left them a few days of freedom in the capital.

Yanjing’s people loved putting on a show of generosity. They liked being loud about it too. Beneath all that noise was a streak of pride, and in truth it reflected the state of mind found throughout the State of Yan at present.

Whenever Ran Min and his men, dressed in Jingnan Army armor, sat down to eat, some diner from a nearby table would inevitably pay their bill first, then cup his hands and say, “Brothers, eat and drink well. This Lord De never made it onto the battlefield himself, but surely I can still buy a meal for men who fought and killed out there. Give me that much face.”

Whether his wife beat him when he got home was tomorrow’s problem.

Today, the man had to put on the proper show.

The funniest scene came when Ran Min and his men went to the Red Tents. They had originally been given numbered slips and told to wait over tea. But the moment the old and young men ahead of them noticed the armor on their bodies, everyone immediately began shouting for the soldiers to go first.

Even the madam gave them a twenty-percent discount.

One younger soldier finished rather too quickly, and the establishment kindly allowed him a second round at no extra charge.

They spent no small amount of silver over those few days, but nobody felt much pain over it. The money had been earned by gambling their lives. Naturally, it ought to be spent with the same reckless spirit.

Most of Ran Min’s men came from other commanderies of Yan. Two were Jin men who had been incorporated into the force. Ran Min himself was the only native of Tiancheng Commandery.

By now, these men had fallen completely in love with Yanjing. Every one of them was thinking that once they earned promotions and money through future campaigns, they would buy a little courtyard here and retire in the capital.

The dreams of grunts were wonderfully plain.

Of course, this was also because the city—and the atmosphere throughout Yan at present—gave soldiers enough respect to make them feel proud of their profession.

Back in the State of Qian, the common people had once called soldiers “bandit conscripts.” It was hardly surprising that Qian armies had so often collapsed on contact during the Yan–Qian War. Now the ruler of Qian had begun suppressing the scholar-officials and raising the status of military commanders. What he wanted, in essence, was precisely the atmosphere Yan already possessed—the kind in which people heard that war was coming and felt their blood stir.

Ran Min even sent someone to Nan’an County with a little silver for the Chief Constable he had once taken as a younger brother.

It was not much. Ran Min understood perfectly well that a Chief Constable was unlikely to become rich, but neither was such a man’s hand ever completely free of grease. The silver was only meant to express goodwill: *Your elder brother has gone from penal soldier to a regular of the Jingnan Army. Give me another two or three years. Once I climb a little higher, I’ll truly be able to cover for you.*

Nan’an County was not far from Yanjing. The messenger rode hard both ways, and on the night before Ran Min was due to leave for Yingdu, he returned with news.

The Chief Constable was no longer in Nan’an. Apparently, he had married the daughter of a local butcher and taken the girl back to his hometown.

Ran Min said nothing more.

He was leaving Yanjing the next morning and had no time to go searching for that little brother of his. All he could do was sigh and think that, if fate allowed, they would meet again someday.

The next morning, Ran Min led his men out of the capital and reported to the training ground beyond the walls.

What he did not know was that, when they left the inn, Ji Chengjue was sitting on the second floor of the teahouse across the street, watching them go.

Eunuch Zhang sat opposite him, pouring tea.

“Master, that fellow seems like a decent man.”

Ji Chengjue smiled.

Ran Min had still remembered to send him a little spending money. He truly did value loyalty.

Eunuch Zhang continued, “It hasn’t even been that long. One campaign, and he went from penal soldier to a regular Squad Leader. Given time, perhaps Great Yan will produce another Count Pingye.”

Ji Chengjue shook his head.

“There is only one Zheng Fan in this world.”

...

Ran Min’s unit assembled under its Lieutenant Commander and returned to formation.

They had come to Yanjing with three hundred cavalrymen. On the return journey, another three hundred riders had been assigned from the capital, bringing the escort to six hundred. Their charges were Mao Mingcai, Great Yan’s Minister of War, and the Chu diplomatic mission.

Ran Min did not like the Chu.

But he certainly enjoyed seeing them lower their heads and admit defeat.

News that Chu had come seeking peace and asking for an alliance had already spread widely. Outside Yupan City, Chu envoys were still arguing and negotiating day and night inside the Prince of Jingnan’s command camp, but everyone understood that the truly decisive discussions took place in Yanjing.

Judging from the size and composition of this convoy, the agreement had probably been settled.

This enormous war was finally approaching its end.

Yet for some reason, Ran Min felt a trace of disappointment.

Were the tens of thousands of Chu soldiers trapped inside Yupan City really going to be allowed to walk home alive?

Ran Min knew perfectly well this was not something a Squad Leader like him had any right to decide. Even so, the thought sat badly in his stomach.

He had entered the army, but the jianghu had never completely left his bones. He still preferred the clean satisfaction of repaying grievance for grievance.

*You wrong me on the first day of the month, and I will settle the account with you on the fifteenth.*

The convoy began its journey.

Mao Mingcai was one of the highest ministers at court, but his personality was unusually approachable. Whenever the escort camped for the night, he walked around the camp, looking here and there. More than once he even came over and sat with Ran Min and the common soldiers, drinking vegetable soup and chatting.

Mostly, Mao asked questions while Ran Min and the others answered. Naturally, the topic he cared about most was the Battle of the Wang River.

The Chu chief envoy, Jing Yang, kept a much lower profile. While marching, he remained within the Chu mission. At night, he generally stayed inside his tent.

Other members of the Chu delegation were less restrained. Occasionally they clashed with the Yan soldiers, and several fistfights even broke out. No blades were drawn, however, and as long as nobody died, the men above did not care much.

The convoy traveled this way until it reached the outskirts of Yingdu, where Prince of Cheng Situ Yu came out personally with the officials of his residence to receive them.

The welcome was primarily for Mao Mingcai. After all, the Minister of War was a genuine high official of Great Yan.

Inside the relay station, Situ Yu first bowed to Mao Mingcai.

Since the young Prince had shown such courtesy, Mao Mingcai did not withhold courtesy in return. He led the attendants behind him in a proper kneeling salute to the Prince of Cheng.

One could say host and guests parted equally satisfied.

Situ Yu invited Mao Mingcai into Yingdu, claiming that he had already prepared a banquet—though in reality he had prepared absolutely nothing.

Mao Mingcai naturally declined, saying he carried an imperial commission and could not delay. Once his duty had been completed, he would return to trouble the Prince for hospitality.

Situ Yu then departed with his men.

Mao Mingcai and the rest of the convoy spent the night at the relay station. The following day they would cross the Wang River and proceed to the Prince of Jingnan’s command camp.

Messengers had already ridden ahead long before. The front should have received word of their approach.

That evening, Mao Mingcai summoned Ran Min again for conversation.

There was a reason the Sixth Prince had once taken notice of Ran Min. Some people, even when standing at the very bottom, naturally gave off the sense that they were somehow different.

The greatest master of that particular path in recent years had, of course, been Count Pingye.

Ran Min’s luck was not poor either. Mao Mingcai liked his manner of speaking, his boldness, and his lack of constraint. The two were already showing signs of setting aside the gulf in status between them and becoming almost friendly.

That was fortune.

When fortune came, there was no stopping it.

“So originally, you were supposed to be sent to Shengle?” Mao Mingcai asked.

“Yes, my lord. At first I was assigned to garrison duty in Shengle as a penal soldier. Then the fighting broke out, His Highness the Prince of Jingnan marched to war, and our batch was pulled into the front.”

“Good fortune, then. You arrived just in time for this campaign. Going from penal soldier to a regular army man is no small thing.”

“My lord speaks truly.”

“Though if one thinks about it another way, failing to reach Shengle and serve beneath Count Pingye may also have cost you an opportunity.”

“I admire Count Pingye greatly.”

Only a few years ago, Zheng Fan had been an ordinary commoner among a levy of civilian laborers. Then he had climbed upward at astonishing speed, receiving the favor of one great figure after another while accumulating military achievements nobody could question. Now he was a Chief Commander and a Count.

Stories about Count Zheng were everywhere in Great Yan’s army.

No matter the age, people were always drawn to tales of a man rising from the dirt, because most people themselves began in the dirt.

Mao Mingcai sighed. “I have long wanted an opportunity to become acquainted with Count Pingye myself, but unfortunately I never had the chance. I have read his *Zheng Treatise on War* no fewer than three times.

“To an outsider, it is unquestionably a major work on military affairs. Though at first, I thought some portions were written too broadly. It seemed like a framework—complex on the surface, but rather hollow within.

“Then I watched Count Zheng fight one successful campaign after another and finally understood. Perhaps he merely wrote those parts casually, specifically for outsiders to read.”

“I bought a copy at a bookshop in the capital this time. I’ve been reading it lately too.”

“Good. Read more. Learn more. When you see a worthy man, think of becoming like him. I look forward to the day Great Yan produces another famous general.”

“Many thanks for my lord’s generous praise!”

“You are hardly a creature destined to remain in a small pond either. I may as well speak plainly in advance. I am Minister of War now. Matters concerning the Ministry of War are under my authority.

“Unfortunately, where the Jingnan Army is concerned, my hand cannot reach in at all.”

Mao Mingcai lifted his tea as he spoke, drinking while watching Ran Min over the rim.

The intention to recruit him could hardly have been more obvious.

Ran Min naturally understood that the moment had come for him to choose.

And, truthfully, he had little room to choose at all.

He was nothing more than a Squad Leader.

The man before him was Minister of War.

The fact that Mao Mingcai was even willing to speak with him this way was already an enormous favor.

After hesitating briefly, Ran Min rose and knelt.

“The Jingnan Army is Great Yan’s Jingnan Army. It is the court’s Jingnan Army. It is His Majesty’s Jingnan Army. My lord, you are Minister of War. This humble soldier naturally obeys your instructions.”

Mao Mingcai nodded in satisfaction and made a gesture as though helping him rise.

“Get up.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Ran Min stood.

“Once this proclamation is complete, return to Yanjing with me.”

“This humble soldier will obey my lord in everything.”

“Good.”

At that moment, a personal guard reported from outside the tent.

“My lord, the Chu envoy requests an audience.”

“Let him enter.”

Mao Mingcai rose and straightened his clothes.

Ran Min prepared to withdraw, but Mao Mingcai smiled and stopped him.

“Stay. Meet him with me.”

Jing Yang entered wearing not official robes, but a long gown in the distinctive style of Chu.

“Brother Mao.”

“Brother Jing.”

Neither addressed the other by office. They spoke simply as fellow gentlemen.

“Brother Jing, what instruction brings you here so late?”

“I would not dare call it instruction. I merely thought that after we proclaim the agreement together tomorrow, we will soon part ways. The thought left me somewhat reluctant, so I presumptuously came late at night for a final conversation.”

Mao Mingcai nodded.

“Perfect timing. Prince of Cheng gave me some excellent tea earlier today. I’ll have someone brew it.”

“Excellent. Excellent.”

Without waiting for instruction, Ran Min took the tea leaves and went outside to boil water.

Once beyond the tent, he drew a deep breath and raised his head toward the stars.

Even now, his mind still felt hot.

But he knew one thing clearly.

His road had widened.

Every time Mao Mingcai wandered the camp speaking with the soldiers, Ran Min had deliberately—but subtly—shown a little of himself.

Hard work did not betray the diligent.

At last, he had drawn this great official’s attention.

He genuinely liked the armor of the Jingnan Army.

But the favor of the Minister of War?

That was something he could not possibly abandon.

Ever since the day he killed a man inside the yamen hall, Ran Min had sworn in his heart that if the jianghu could not give him true freedom, then he would seize everything he wanted for himself on the battlefield.

In truth, Jing Yang and Mao Mingcai really did nothing more than chat casually. They discussed no serious matters at all, only customs of Yan and scenery of Chu.

They did not speak long either. After around half an hour, Jing Yang rose, took his leave, and returned to his own tent.

Ran Min began clearing away the tea things.

Mao Mingcai sat down again, stretched, and said, “The people of Qian love elegance. The people of Jin love the masculine wind. The people of Chu love ritual propriety. Only we Yan are said to have no taste for refinement.

“Heh. There really is some truth to that.

“That Chu chief envoy came tonight for no particular purpose. He merely wanted to complete the proper Chu courtesies. As for me, this Yan man, I suffered terribly trying to keep the conversation going.”

Forcing conversation when there was nothing to say truly was painful.

And the two men could not touch real business either. If word spread that they had discussed anything sensitive in private, one careless rumor could become an accusation of treason.

Ran Min smiled.

“Truthfully, anyone can enjoy a good life. We Yan simply suffered too much in the old days.”

Mao Mingcai heard this and nodded thoughtfully.

“That is well said. Why should men of Yan not compose poetry in Jiangnan? Why should men of Yan not sing freely across the Great Marsh of Chu?

“One day, we can.”

Ran Min replied, “Then we’d better hurry.”

“Hurry?”

“Because right now, all we have in our hands is the masculine wind.”

“You—hahahahaha!”

Mao Mingcai burst out laughing.

Then he waved his hand and restrained himself.

“Enough, enough. In that case, I dare not keep you in my tent any longer.”

“My lord should rest. This humble soldier takes his leave.”

...

The next morning, the convoy departed the relay station.

By noon, they had reached the Wang River.

As Ran Min boarded the ferry, he noticed someone galloping along the far bank. The mount looked strangely massive for a horse.

By the time the ferry reached the middle of the river, the rider on the opposite bank had reined in, apparently having noticed the convoy and deliberately chosen to wait.

Only then did Ran Min see clearly that the animal beneath the man was not a horse at all.

It was a Pixiu.

“What lord is that across the river, riding a Pi Beast?”

Ran Min spoke almost to himself.

Mao Mingcai happened to walk over.

He smiled.

“Not a Pi Beast.

“A Pixiu.”

“A Pixiu?”

Great Yan’s banner bore the Black Dragon.

But the Pixiu was, in a sense, Great Yan’s true totem.

No one had ever seen a dragon.

Pixiu, however, genuinely existed.

Officials and military commanders of sufficient rank sometimes had opportunities to receive Pi Beasts as imperial gifts.

Pixiu were another matter entirely.

Only the highest nobility and truly supreme figures could possess one.

“The man across the river,” Mao Mingcai said, “should be the commander you very nearly served beneath.”

“Count Zheng?”

“Most likely. Before the campaign, the Prince of Jingnan specifically memorialized the court asking for a Pixiu. Supposedly, it was meant as a gift for him.

“And sure enough, like a fine sword presented to a worthy hero, Count Zheng went on to fight an extraordinarily beautiful campaign.”

Ran Min listened with open yearning.

Five parts sincere envy and five parts deliberately exaggerated emotion entered his voice.

“I want one too.”

Mao Mingcai answered, “Work hard in the future. You may get the chance.”

The ferries reached the bank and people began disembarking.

Zheng Fan remained seated on the Pixiu.

For the past two days, he had been constantly trying to build a relationship with the beast.

The results had been unexpectedly good.

The Pixiu was completely different from when they first met. Now it showed Zheng Fan extraordinary affection.

For a time, General Zheng had wondered whether the beast had somehow become intelligent enough to flatter the rich and despise the poor.

Back when Zheng Fan had merely been General of Shengle, it could hardly be bothered to look at him.

Now that he was a Count, suddenly it wanted to be close?

Count Zheng had misunderstood.

That night, after being terrified by the true forms of several Demon Kings, the Pixiu had developed a very clear understanding of its own place in the world:

It was the Demon Kings’ slave.

Animals possessed natural instincts for submission and dominance.

Humans did too.

Humans were simply better at hiding them.

So in the Pixiu’s mind, Zheng Fan and itself were the same.

Both were slaves beneath that terrifying group of Demon Kings.

Fellow sufferers, one man and one beast, stranded at the ends of the earth.

Naturally, they ought to huddle together for warmth and comfort.

Count Zheng stroked the Pixiu’s mane while watching the passengers leave the ferry. The two clearly different systems of official robes, together with the banners carried by the delegation, made the situation obvious.

This had to be the mission carrying the formal Yan–Chu agreement.

The Prince of Jingnan had summoned him here several days ago.

Since then, Count Zheng had been waiting for the “scenery” Tian Wujing had promised him.

So far nothing.

He did not dare corner Tian Wujing and demand an explanation.

Great men, after all, often enjoyed speaking in riddles.

Just as Patriarch Bodhi struck Sun Wukong three times on the back of the head if you immediately asked what the signal meant, the old master might become annoyed instead.

Besides, Tian Wujing had always treated Zheng Fan somewhat like a student.

Liang Cheng was not here.

Count Zheng did not even have someone beside him to help solve the problem.

At that moment, a middle-aged man of considerable bearing descended from the ferry.

One glance at the man’s official robes told Zheng Fan there was a large fish inside this delegation.

He immediately dismounted and went forward to greet him.

Mao Mingcai looked at Zheng Fan and cupped his hands.

“May I ask if Your Excellency is Count Pingye Zheng Fan?”

“I am. And may I ask—”

“This official is Mao Mingcai.”

“Oh.”

“...”

Mao Mingcai.

The air became awkward.

Only after a pause did Zheng Fan add:

“I’ve long admired you. Long admired you.”

Mao Mingcai could only cup his hands again.

“Likewise. Likewise.”

Truthfully, Zheng Fan genuinely did not know the man standing before him was his nominal direct superior.

After all—

Mao Mingcai was Minister of War.

But matters like official networks, personnel relationships, and background files had always been handled by the Blind Man. Whenever Zheng Fan needed to know something, he simply asked.

More importantly, ever since General Zheng began his career, he had always followed Tian Wujing. He barely needed to care about ordinary regulations from the Ministry of War. Even when he did encounter them, it was usually only to follow the formal procedure.

And most importantly of all—

Mao Mingcai was a relatively new Minister of War.

The Chu envoy Jing Yang stepped forward.

He glanced once at Zheng Fan and once at the Pixiu behind him.

“This envoy Jing Yang of Chu pays respects to Count Pingye of Yan.”

“Greetings, Chu Envoy.”

Mao Mingcai felt increasingly depressed.

What bothered him most was that Zheng Fan did not appear to be deliberately giving him a show of disrespect.

The man truly seemed not to know who he was.

And although several people beside Mao Mingcai had clearly realized the problem, Zheng Fan’s present status made them too nervous to speak up and explain it.

They could hardly behave like retainers in an opera, point at Zheng Fan, and shout:

“Brat! Do you even know who stands before you?!”

Ordinarily, a Chief Commander meeting the Minister of War really was equivalent to meeting the direct head of his entire profession.

But Zheng Fan also carried the personally bestowed noble title of Count Pingye.

Great Yan valued military achievement and was extraordinarily stingy with noble titles.

On the strength of that Countship alone, Zheng Fan genuinely possessed the standing to meet Mao Mingcai almost as an equal.

Left with no other choice, Mao Mingcai spoke again.

“Count Pingye, this official is the current Minister of War.”

“Ah...”

Zheng Fan smiled.

Now he realized he had gone a little too far.

So he said sincerely:

“Minister Mao, please forgive my offense.”

As he spoke, Zheng Fan began lowering himself as though preparing to kneel.

Mao Mingcai hurriedly reached out to stop him.

Then he laughed heartily.

“Count Pingye opened new frontier lands for the state and seized Snow Sea Pass through battle. Though I sit in this office, I remain a man who spends most of his time in Yanjing. How could I possibly accept such a salute from Count Pingye?”

Zheng Fan immediately straightened again with such speed that Mao Mingcai staggered slightly from the sudden movement.

The Minister said nothing.

Standing to one side, Ran Min quietly clenched his back teeth.

In truth, Zheng Fan had been completely himself.

He genuinely had not recognized Mao Mingcai.

He had never intended to humiliate the man.

But in Ran Min’s eyes, that very casualness was exactly what he yearned for.

To face the Minister of one of the Six Ministries and remain this relaxed that was the status Ran Min wanted.

That was the position he wanted.

At the same time, the Squad Leader who had not even been in the army for a full year felt another faint sigh rise in his heart.

Originally he had almost been sent to Shengle City under this very man.

“May I ask where His Highness the Prince of Jingnan is?” Mao Mingcai asked.

“At the central command camp.”

“Good.”

The awkward meeting finally came to an end.

Once the rest of the delegation crossed the river, a Jingnan Army reception party arrived.

This was not deliberate neglect. The decree convoy had simply moved faster than expected that day. According to the messenger sent ahead the previous day, they were not supposed to reach the crossing until around dusk.

Zheng Fan remounted his Pixiu and rode beside Mao Mingcai toward the central camp.

Mao Mingcai did not hold the earlier “rudeness” against him and continued speaking warmly.

General Zheng finally recovered his acting skills.

The two men became “delighted to meet one another” and “regretted not having met sooner.”

Truthfully both were merely trying to dissolve the previous awkwardness.

When the delegation reached the entrance of the central camp, Jingnan Army Chief Commander Chen Yang rode out in place of the Prince of Jingnan.

Chen Yang remained mounted and gave Mao Mingcai a military salute.

“His Highness is occupied with military affairs and ordered this general to receive Minister Mao.”

Chen Yang was an old hand of the Jingnan Army.

Tian Wujing had raised him personally ten years earlier, and over the years he had climbed all the way to Chief Commander.

His attitude was genuinely cold.

The disrespect in it was unmistakable.

Not much time had passed since Tian Wujing refused an imperial decree and two palace eunuchs smashed themselves to death against stone lions.

The senior commanders of the Jingnan Army were therefore not particularly impressed by imperial decree missions—or even by a Minister of War.

For more than a decade, Tian Wujing had personally controlled the Jingnan Army.

The entire formation existed almost completely outside the Ministry of War’s normal system.

*You cannot control me.*

*Why should I fear you?*

Still with Chen Yang serving as contrast, Mao Mingcai and the rest suddenly found Count Pingye’s earlier behavior surprisingly warm and adorable.

“His Highness is occupied with military affairs. Naturally there is no need to trouble him with empty ceremony,” Mao Mingcai replied. “But please inform His Highness that today, the Chu Envoy and I will formally proclaim the State Letters of our two realms.”

In other words:

They could skip the formal welcome.

But when it came time to conduct the real business, the Prince of Jingnan still needed to appear.

Chen Yang nodded.

“This general will report it immediately.”

The decree mission began making preparations.

Their urgency came largely from Jing Yang. Tens of thousands of Azure Luan soldiers were still starving inside Yupan City. The sooner the agreement was formally proclaimed, the fewer Chu soldiers would die.

Zheng Fan did not remain with the mission.

He entered the military camp with Chen Yang instead.

“You went out to receive them?” Chen Yang asked.

“Do I look that idle?” Zheng Fan replied. “I happened to be out taking a ride and ran into them.”

Chen Yang lowered his gaze toward the Pixiu beneath Zheng Fan.

He made no attempt whatsoever to hide his envy.

“If I had one of those, I’d go out riding every day too.”

Chen Yang’s temperament suited Zheng Fan extremely well.

He spoke whatever came to mind.

He looked cold and somewhat discourteous, but at least he never pretended.

Hearing the remark, Count Zheng patted the Pixiu’s head.

“Exactly.”

Chen Yang gave a quiet snort.

When the two neared the command tent, they dismounted and walked in.

The Prince of Jingnan happened to be sitting outside the tent on a chair.

Chen Yang stepped forward to report.

“Your Highness, the proclamation mission has arrived. Minister of War Mao Mingcai is outside, and they are already impatient to begin.”

Tian Wujing waved a hand.

“Prepare the stage for them.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Chen Yang immediately went to make arrangements.

Zheng Fan, meanwhile, had nothing to do.

His own troops were not here.

There was no need for him to arrange anything.

The Prince of Jingnan raised one hand and pointed toward Yupan City in the distance.

“They’re going to negotiate peace.”

Zheng Fan followed Tian Wujing’s tone and sighed.

“What a pity.”

“What is?”

Zheng Fan smiled.

“A pity we couldn’t starve a few more Chu to death.”

Tian Wujing pointed at him.

“A commander must possess a larger vision and greater spirit.”

“Yes. Your subordinate accepts the lesson.”

Tian Wujing rose.

“Come.

“Help this Prince put on armor.”

...

Chu soldiers had maintained a constant presence on Yupan City’s walls.

They stood straight.

There were plenty of them.

In reality, however, it was largely for appearances.

The true situation inside Yupan City was simple:

There was nowhere near enough food.

Aside from the day the Yan defeated the main savage force, when they launched a token assault against the city, the Yan army had not attempted another siege attack afterward.

The Chu stood ready atop the walls.

The Yan built another wall around Yupan City.

It resembled two men squaring off.

One shouted:

“Come up here!”

The other sneered and answered:

“You come out.”

At first, the Chu had made several attempts to break through and destroy the outer wall.

But the Yan response was fierce.

The Chu could burst out temporarily, but they never had enough time to dismantle the fortifications.

After several attempts, they gave up.

Breaking down the wall did not possess much meaning anyway.

The terrain outside Yupan City was completely flat.

The Azure Luan Army was primarily infantry.

The Yan were primarily cavalry.

Without relief forces outside, any attempt by the Azure Luan Army to break out would inevitably turn into a disastrous rout.

The Yan did not even need to charge their formations directly.

They could simply rotate cavalry units, harassing them without pause.

The Chu could not last long.

The real crisis remained grain.

Qu Tiannan stood atop the city tower.

Several times, he had seen officials dressed in Chu robes pass beneath the walls and shout messages from a distance.

But whenever he tried sending anyone outside the city to make contact, the surrounding Yan troops immediately shot the messengers dead with arrows.

It was an absurd scene.

Officials and envoys from his own state were already inside the Yan command camp.

Negotiations had continued for so long.

Yet the Chu army actually trapped inside Yupan City had no means whatsoever to participate.

It was as though they were nothing more than an ornament hanging from the negotiations.

If they truly had been mere ornaments, perhaps that would still have been tolerable.

What Qu Tiannan could not stand was that although his own men were forbidden from going out, many of the Chu officials outside seemed to enjoy walking close to the walls and shouting “reassurances” into the city.

Those reassurances had an obvious effect.

The soldiers were already unstable from hunger.

Now their morale deteriorated faster.

Truthfully, if Qu Tiannan could have left the city, then with his usual temper he genuinely might have drawn a saber and butchered every one of those civil officials who insisted on coming under the walls to “comfort” the army.

Fortunately, the Azure Luan Army was, to a large extent, a private army of the Qu Clan.

Even under these circumstances, Qu Tiannan could still maintain approximate control over the force.

How long that control would last, however even he did not know.

As one of Chu’s Pillars of State, he understood why the court wanted peace.

The internal situation in Chu had not yet fully stabilized.

And if Chu sent another great army north through Zhennan Pass to relieve Yupan City, the road was long and vulnerable to Yan attack.

But in Qu Tiannan’s heart he still felt the war should continue.

Yes, Great Chu had problems.

Did the Yan truly possess none of their own?

When great states confronted each other, the winner was often simply the side capable of enduring longer.

Still when Qu Tiannan turned and looked at the Azure Luan soldiers he had led here, another thought surfaced.

Perhaps being able to bring them home alive would also be something worth celebrating.

But could he truly do it?

“Woooooo—!”

A long horn call suddenly rolled from the Yan camp.

For the first time in many days, the army outside showed major movement.

Qu Tiannan stepped to the battlement and narrowed his eyes toward the distance.

The Yan camp had come alive.

Formation after formation of cavalry began sweeping toward the northern and southern sides of Yupan City.

But this did not look like preparation for an assault.

No siege engines were being brought forward.

Once the Yan formations had deployed, two groups of officials wearing different styles of robes began walking toward the walls.

The leaders of both groups carried imperial edicts in both hands.

Behind them, their attendants raised the Black Dragon Banner of Yan and the Phoenix Banner of Chu.

Qu Tiannan felt something clog in his chest.

Yet beneath it came a faint sense of relief.

At the same time cheers erupted from the Chu soldiers atop the walls.

The Azure Luan Army ranked among the finest forces of Chu.

Its discipline and resilience should have been excellent.

But even the strongest army, trapped and starving for this long, would eventually have its courage ground thin.

The soldiers all understood what this meant.

The negotiations had succeeded.

The alliance had been concluded.

They could finally leave this damned city and return home.

Mao Mingcai stood on one side.

Jing Yang on the other.

Each opened an imperial decree.

Mao Mingcai read first.

Jing Yang followed.

Once both proclamations were complete, Jing Yang carried the State Letter into Yupan City while Mao Mingcai withdrew.

Half an hour later, Qu Tiannan appeared atop the gate tower over Yupan City’s western gate.

“You want us to open the city?

“Fine.

“But I require your State of Yan’s Marquis of Jingnan to come out personally with the State Letter and guarantee our safe withdrawal!”

Under the newly concluded agreement, Yan and Chu would become Brother States.

The Azure Luan Army trapped inside Yupan City would be allowed to leave and return home.

According to the details written into the State Letter, the Azure Luan troops could retain their armor, but had to surrender sabers, spears, bows, crossbows, and other weapons.

As commander of the Azure Luan Army, Qu Tiannan demanded Tian Wujing’s personal guarantee before opening the gate.

He did not yet know that the Marquis of Jingnan had been elevated to Prince, and therefore continued using the old title.

For a time both the Chu inside the city and the Yan outside fell silent.

The tense atmosphere did not last long.

A towering figure in gilded armor slowly rode out from the Yan formation atop a Pixiu.

Almost simultaneously the Chu defenders atop the wall released the breaths they had been holding.

Tian Wujing arrived beneath the city wall.

His Pixiu stopped.

Qu Tiannan leapt down from the wall.

He wore no weapon and had no horse.

He simply walked openly toward Tian Wujing.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk...”

Zheng Fan clicked his tongue.

Was riding alone into the enemy camp impressive?

Of course it was.

But truthfully not many people in the world possessed the courage to play that particular game with the Prince of Jingnan.

There was one simple reason.

Tian Wujing was a man capable of defeating the Sword Saint.

And not long ago, Count Zheng himself had exploited the Sword Saint’s overwhelming martial strength as a cheat code and staged his own “single-man meeting” with the savage Ten-Thousand Household Commander Gelimu.

Still judging by the situation before him, the Prince of Jingnan was clearly nowhere near as shameless as Count Zheng.

Qu Tiannan stopped in front of Tian Wujing.

The Prince of Jingnan did not dismount.

One could dress it up as two states ending hostilities and forming an alliance.

But in truth, Chu had been the side forced to lower its head.

So as victor, what was wrong with sitting on a Pixiu and looking down slightly?

Qu Tiannan did not object.

He simply raised the imperial decree clenched in his hand.

The Prince of Jingnan lifted the Yan State Letter in return.

Although the treaty contained many details and covered a wide range of issues, the negotiations themselves had moved quickly.

Chu could not afford delay.

“Tien Wujing,” Qu Tiannan said, “I lost.

“But I remain responsible for the sons beneath my command.

“I want you to swear upon this State Letter.

“Once you swear, I will immediately order the gates opened.”

Then Qu Tiannan looked directly at him.

After a brief silence—

Tian Wujing spoke.

“Heaven above and Earth below bear witness.

“I, Tian Wujing, swear that if I violate this alliance, may my flesh rot away, may my soul fall forever, and may Heaven itself abandon me!”

Qu Tiannan watched him finish the oath.

Then turned.

He waved toward the city.

*Creeeeak...*

The gates of Yupan City, sealed for months, slowly opened from within.

Formation after formation of Chu soldiers marched out.

One glance made it obvious that they were desperately hungry.

Many faces had gone pale.

Their weapons were piled beside the gate as they emerged.

Qu Tiannan looked back at Tian Wujing atop the Pixiu.

“If fate grants the chance in this lifetime—

I too will spare you once, Tian Wujing.”

The Prince of Jingnan did not answer.

His Pixiu turned.

He rode back toward the Yan lines.

Jing Yang emerged through the city gate and came to Qu Tiannan’s side.

“Pillar of State, the Regent knows how hard you have suffered.”

Qu Tiannan shook his head.

“Save those words for after we return home.”

Then, feeling the answer had been somewhat too cold, he added:

“You’ve worked hard traveling back and forth as well.”

“Pillar of State speaks too seriously. Please reorganize the army. I will return to the Yan camp and finish the final details of the agreement. I’ll also have the Yan provide us with some food according to the treaty.

“The soldiers have all suffered enough.”

Qu Tiannan sighed.

When he marched out to war, he truly had never imagined the campaign would end this way.

And certainly not with such humiliation.

...

“Heh.

“So you can actually play it this way.”

Although Count Zheng had already known the broad terms of the settlement, he still found the situation interesting.

In an age like this there really were arrangements under which a trapped army was released intact.

Of course, the Chu did not consider themselves prisoners.

The alliance had been concluded.

Therefore the Chu army would naturally return home.

Yan, meanwhile, had used the Azure Luan Army as leverage to extract greater benefits from Chu.

The Blind Man had once explained that Chu operated differently from other places because its state and households were dominated by great aristocratic clans.

That produced customs under which two great nobles might wage war against each other, capture the opposing commander, and then eventually release him.

Soldiers could die in battle.

Nobles had to live.

The Spring and Autumn period Zheng Fan remembered from his previous world had operated in much the same way. Captured commanders and aristocrats were treated properly and later ransomed home.

Medieval Europe had similar customs.

Even amid war, both sides often made a point of preserving noble lives.

After all everyone involved considered himself nobility.

Naturally, such lives were worth more than those of ordinary soldiers.

Commoners and peasants?

Spend them if needed.

No great loss.

The Chu were still leaving the city when Jing Yang sought out Mao Mingcai and requested that the Yan fulfill the treaty by providing an initial batch of grain.

After returning to the Yan formation, the Prince of Jingnan did not linger.

He turned his Pixiu and rode directly toward the Wang River.

Zheng Fan and a group of personal guards followed.

At the riverbank, Tian Wujing dismounted.

The personal guards did not dare approach and disturb him.

Only Zheng Fan walked forward.

The Prince of Jingnan pointed toward the Wang River.

“What do you think of the scenery here?”

Zheng Fan replied, “The river is broad. The sky is high. The clouds are pale.”

“Yes.

“Too pale.”

“Your Highness, let them go this time. Give us a few years to recover, and this subordinate will come with Your Highness to deal with them properly next time.”

Tian Wujing smiled.

He turned and looked at Zheng Fan.

“I only just told you that a commander must possess great spirit. Do you truly think this Prince is brooding over something like that?”

“No, Your Highness. That isn’t what I meant. Your Highness’s heart is broader than sun and moon. This subordinate’s admiration for Your Highness is as endless as the waters of the Wang River—”

Tian Wujing raised a hand and cut off the cumbersome flattery.

Zheng Fan obediently closed his mouth.

The Prince of Jingnan turned back toward the Wang River and stood with his hands behind his back.

Zheng Fan remained beside him in silence.

A long time passed.

Then Tian Wujing spoke.

“Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass Zheng Fan— receive orders.”

Zheng Fan froze.

Then immediately dropped to one knee.

“This general is here!”

Tian Wujing crouched beside the river.

He cupped both hands into the water.

And while calmly washing them, he said:

“Kill every last one.”

————

[End of Chapter 366]