Chapter 513: - Heaven’s Chosen

The military conference ended, and every force received orders from the Prince of Jingnan.

Beginning early the next morning, formations throughout the Yan army started making preparations and shifting position.

Liang Cheng had once said that civil officials loved quoting the line, “Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish.” In truth, warfare followed the same principle even more strongly.

To outsiders, the affairs of soldiers seemed hard and fierce to the extreme.

But only someone capable of turning a steel blade soft enough to coil around a finger could truly be called a master.

Moving a great army could not be accomplished in a morning or an evening.

Every formation had its assigned objective, and the whole body had to advance in sequence and in harmony.

Nothing about it could be rushed.

The Yan were moving.

The Chu were hardly idle.

Never mind the five routes on either wing that Nian Yao had already ordered to circle outward from behind Zhennan Pass.

Every garrison in every military fort and camp had begun moving as well.

The Prince of Jingnan had been right.

This was a grand performance.

An enormous number of people were building the stage.

Count the soldiers of Yan and Chu gathered here, then add the laborers to round out the total, and calling it a million men arrayed to watch would not be an exaggeration at all.

Even if some historian wrote “an army of a million” into the record later, it would be one of those rare cases with very little water mixed into the number.

Yet Count Pingye, one of the performers about to take the stage, had spent the last few days in an exceptionally foul mood.

He had already handed the actual work to Liang Cheng.

Liang Cheng would arrange the assault and draw up the plan.

Count Pingye’s only remaining duty was to sit by himself and stew.

At that moment, the flap of the command tent lifted.

Fan Li entered while holding the Savage King by the hand.

One was a giant built like an iron tower.

The other was Gou Moli, visibly thin and not especially tall.

Hand in hand, utterly indifferent to anyone watching, they had dismounted at the outer camp and walked the entire way to the command tent.

Fan Li genuinely did not care what anyone thought.

He knew only that Master had ordered him to keep a close watch on Gou Moli.

That meant keeping a close watch.

As for Gou Moli, he cared even less.

If his own outward conditions had been somewhat better, he would actually have been quite willing to sample a little of the Jin lands’ particular customs himself.

Mm.

He had once been the Savage King, after all.

In terms of status and position, he was not necessarily inferior to the former Empress Dowager of Jin, was he?

Unfortunately, Count Pingye did not appear to favor that sort of thing.

Inside the Count’s Residence, there was Mr. Feng.

Even Gou Moli instinctively shrank his neck a little whenever he saw her.

Ordinary women, no matter how formidable, were usually formidable in struggles within the inner household.

Gou Moli knew perfectly well that Mr. Feng’s true specialty lay in the outer household.

Then there was the princess.

And Miss Liu.

Sigh.

Gou Moli did not know the modern phrase “collector’s obsession.”

But on the snowfields there was a weak monster called the Brocade Rat.

It liked gathering glittering things and hiding them inside its burrow.

Because of that, people sometimes hunted Brocade Rats specifically to find their nests.

Often they discovered bits of gold and silver.

With exceptionally good luck, they might even discover a vein of precious metal nearby.

So in Gou Moli’s view, when it came to beautiful women, Count Pingye was a Brocade Rat of the highest grade.

Common gold and silver were not even qualified to enter his eyes.

Count Pingye waved, indicating that Fan Li could leave.

Fan Li gave his simple, honest grin and went out, leaving Gou Moli alone inside the command tent.

Gou Moli immediately bent one knee.

“This subordinate pays respects to the Count. May the Count enjoy health and fortune.”

Zheng Fan had once said that when the campaign against Chu began, he would remove Gou Moli’s shackles.

That meant Gou Moli would officially become one of Zheng Fan’s subordinates.

Zheng Fan himself was allowed to forget such words.

Gou Moli was not.

He had to remember them at all times.

“Get up.”

“Thank you, Count.”

Gou Moli rose and smiled.

“The Count seems troubled. Is it because of Central Mountain Camp?”

“You already know?”

“Mr. Bei spoke with this subordinate once earlier. Count, there is one thing this subordinate does not understand. This is obviously an enormous piece of good fortune. Why is the Count so unhappy? A million men build the stage for you while you alone sing the lead. Tsk, tsk. A scene like this surpasses even the imperial son leading your horse and the Crown Prince receiving you when you entered Yanjing.”

Count Pingye’s eyelids drooped.

“Is the Count worried about losses among his own troops?”

Count Pingye leaned back slightly and folded both hands over his abdomen.

He said nothing.

That was answer enough.

Central Mountain Camp did not possess an especially huge garrison because it was still only a military camp.

And judging from the Prince of Jingnan’s words, the Chu had deliberately left it as bait.

If the bait were too large, who would dare swallow it?

Even so, there were eight thousand defenders inside.

The exact details would have to wait until Zheng Fan and Liang Cheng went over to inspect the place that night.

But whatever the specifics, those eight thousand were not weak.

At the very least, they were nothing like the trash Qian soldiers of three years ago.

Storming a military camp depended on speed and timing.

Tian Wujing would use the main army to hold the stage.

According to Liang Cheng, that pressure could freeze the Chu for two days at most.

Central Mountain Camp was, after all, the heart of their system of forts and camps.

And Nian Yao was no fool.

Two days would be enough time for him to redeploy his forces and wrench the situation back into balance.

So Count Pingye had only two days to smash Central Mountain Camp.

That included the time needed to make the surprise march.

Because it was a surprise attack under a strict time limit, prepared siege engines could not possibly be pushed all the way there.

Once the troops arrived, there would be no time to start building them either.

The single word “storm” explained everything.

That was why the Prince of Jingnan had specifically said this task required a true elite shock force.

But that also meant enormous casualties.

Possibly greater casualties than when they had defended Snow Sea Pass.

Because this time, they were the attackers.

Gou Moli was genuinely puzzled.

He truly could not understand the way Count Pingye’s mind worked.

Other commanders would beg on their knees for an opportunity like this.

Yet now that it had fallen directly into Zheng Fan’s hands, the man looked as though someone had died.

If he were merely pretending to be aggrieved in order to display false modesty, that would be one thing.

But Gou Moli knew he did not yet possess enough standing for Count Pingye to bother acting in front of him.

“If the Count did not want the assignment, why accept it?” Gou Moli asked.

Count Pingye shook his head.

“During the military conference, this Count kept his mouth shut. The Prince of Jingnan personally chose me.”

Gou Moli drew a deep breath.

Then sighed with feeling.

“The Prince of Jingnan truly treats the Count very well.”

“I know.”

This was a good thing.

It genuinely was.

One only had to remember all those commanders pounding their chests and fighting to steal the assignment inside the princely tent.

This was unquestionably an enormous piece of good fortune.

Count Pingye simply did not want it.

Did he not know that if he had volunteered during the conference, there was a very high chance the Prince of Jingnan would have given him the task?

Of course he knew.

That was precisely why he had kept quiet.

This was not affectation.

It was not false modesty.

His foundation was thin, so he guarded it carefully.

More importantly, he could guarantee that every one of the forces beneath him would follow him unconditionally no matter what he chose to do.

Gao Yi might hesitate slightly because he had come from the Jingnan Army.

But Gao Yi commanded the fewest troops and led Count Pingye’s own personal-guard Battalion.

Even if he hesitated, he could not create much of a wave.

Every bit of this foundation mattered to Zheng Fan.

Losing any portion of it would hurt.

If he slammed it directly against Central Mountain Camp, wouldn’t half of it disappear?

This was not some strategy game from a later age where soldiers lost in battle could simply be recruited again.

These soldiers, these Standard households, were not numbers flowing across a screen in Count Pingye’s eyes.

They were living people.

Count Pingye liked changing into ordinary clothes and wandering through Snow Sea Pass.

He liked feeling the breath of life under his rule.

Why did the Sword Saint enjoy Snow Sea Pass?

Wasn’t it because that same sense of living warmth had drawn him in?

It was not that Count Pingye lacked the heart to send men to their deaths.

He understood perfectly well that ten thousand bones lay beneath the achievement of a single general.

But had he not prepared tens of thousands of Savage slaves specifically to serve as cannon fodder?

Wasn’t the entire point to reduce the number of his own men who died when attacking fortifications?

Unfortunately, even after Zheng Fan kept his mouth firmly shut, Tian Wujing had simply conjured something out of nothing.

He had handed the chance to win enormous merit directly to Zheng Fan.

That was Tian Wujing protecting him and lifting him upward.

Count Pingye understood the principle.

But even grown children could rebel when their parents did something “for your own good.”

Count Pingye was already a general commanding an army.

Why should he be any different?

Just as Liang Cheng’s proposed strategy had differed from Tian Wujing’s, everyone stood from a different starting point, possessed different needs, and therefore looked in a different direction.

People could die in war.

But if so many died that every household in Snow Sea Pass wore mourning white when the army returned, was that somehow supposed to make him happy?

This war indeed concerned Snow Sea Pass’s future survival.

But this was only one battle within that war.

Li Fusheng could fight it.

The direct Jingnan Army forces beneath the Prince of Jingnan could fight it too.

“The Count has a benevolent heart,” Gou Moli said.

He was not flattering him.

One had to speak according to the facts.

In Gou Moli’s view, the man before him absolutely deserved to be called ruthless.

But toward his own people, he truly was merciful.

“The military order has already come down. There’s no point complaining about it now. Whether I feel uncomfortable is my own problem. I called you here because I have something to discuss.”

Gou Moli smiled.

How could a man as perceptive as him fail to understand what Count Pingye wanted?

He spoke directly.

“Count, rest assured. The Savage force is willing to serve as the vanguard.”

“Heh.”

Count Pingye gave one short laugh and waited for the rest.

“This assault on Central Mountain Camp cannot involve too many troops. Too many would make movement difficult, and if the dragon’s body becomes too thick, then even if the Chu did not originally intend to lock it, they would have no choice but to do so. We need to stay close to the threshold. The best situation is to make the Chu believe the Count’s force is not much larger than the garrison of Central Mountain Camp itself, enough that they retain confidence they can hold the position. So for this attack, ten thousand men should be enough.”

Count Pingye narrowed his eyes and continued listening.

“As for the casualties worrying the Count, there is no need to worry. Let the Savages die. Sanghu has one thousand usable Savage warriors under him, all elite. From the slave force, choose another two thousand. Pick the sort whose wives and children are slaves as well, so they have something holding them here. When we storm the camp, three thousand Savage riders go first and open the road with the resolve to die. No matter how strong the Chu camp is, no matter how exquisite their battle formations, three thousand death-riders can smash open a gap with their own flesh if nothing else. At that point, the Count leads his own iron cavalry through the breach. Once the opening exists, taking the camp will be easy.”

“Three thousand death-riders?”

Count Pingye was tempted.

Precisely because he had fought on so many battlefields, he understood how difficult it was for any army to avoid disorder after suffering sudden, catastrophic damage.

To a large extent, the difference between an ordinary army and an elite one lay in how high a casualty ratio it could endure before breaking.

Three years ago, Qian’s frontier troops had collapsed the moment they were touched.

Count Pingye did not believe the prepared Chu troops of today would be equally useless.

But they were not forged from iron either.

If three thousand Savage riders went first, ignoring everything else and absorbing the full brunt of the defenses, smashing through the camp and tearing open the Chu formation, then whatever battle remained afterward would unquestionably become much easier.

“Count, rest assured. This subordinate may lack other abilities, but when it comes to fooling Savages into throwing their lives away, no one on the snowfields today can surpass me. And this is not because this subordinate harbors some other intention. Truly, the Count simply released me too recently. Give me more time and it would not be three thousand. It could be five thousand, six thousand, seven thousand, eight thousand. Give the order, Count, and your own troops would not even have to move. This subordinate could lead the Savage force forward alone. Even if nine out of ten died, even if we had to bite the camp apart with our teeth, this subordinate could still chew Central Mountain Camp down for you.”

Back then, this exact ability had allowed the Savage King to gather the scattered tribes of the snowfields.

First, he had fought the Situ Clan head-on.

Then, beside the Wang River, he had even defeated the Yan army once.

Even in the final battle where the Prince of Jingnan crushed him, Gou Moli’s Savage army had not lost in spirit or courage.

When the various tribal warriors charged, many genuinely did so with the resolve to die.

In an age of cold weapons, the combat power produced by courage could never be underestimated.

Unfortunately for the Savage King, he had run directly into the two great Yan field armies, whose courage and killing spirit were no weaker than his own while their battlefield discipline and military ability far surpassed the patched-together Savage host.

The Prince of Jingnan then carved that host apart with the precision of a butcher dismembering an ox.

The entire army collapsed.

“Is it worth it?”

Count Pingye suddenly asked.

Count Pingye did not care about the deaths of the ordinary Savage slave soldiers.

He knew the Savage King did not care either.

But he understood just as clearly that Gou Moli absolutely would care about the “death-riders” he could personally organize and arm again.

The Savage King had once said that the generation of Savages with the greatest ambition and ideals had already been buried by his own hands.

What remained across the snowfields were men with short sight and small dreams.

Still, nothing was absolute.

The snowfields were vast.

If Gou Moli searched carefully enough, he could always pick up a few pearls left behind.

Count Pingye did not believe the Savage King had completely submitted to him and transformed into a thoroughgoing collaborator.

If that were true, then Gou Moli would no longer be Gou Moli.

“Count, it hurts. Of course it hurts a little. But it is worth it.”

The Savage King smiled.

“This subordinate once spoke with Jin Shuke, the Barbarian general under the Count. Mr. Bei was there as well. This subordinate knows that at first, Barbarians were not considered worth much in the Count’s eyes either.”

Count Pingye neither confirmed nor denied it.

“People always have those close to them and those farther away. That is human nature. Someone who stands above others needs to understand closeness and distance even more clearly. You must give benefits and preferential treatment to the people closest to you. Otherwise, no one will support you. What this subordinate intends to do now is use Savage lives to exchange for one thing from the Count. Recognition.”

“Recognition?”

“This subordinate believes that after the Savages pay enough, the Count will eventually begin treating us as his own people too.”

“This Count will not promise that.”

“But the Count already behaves that way. There are very few Yan people in your army. There are far more Jin people and Barbarians. Scholars like chanting about ‘teaching without distinction.’ In this subordinate’s view, Count, you are the one who has actually put that principle into practice.”

“You know perfectly well why there are so few Yan people under me.”

“That is only the cause. A cause is one point. The result is another point. But between cause and result lies a very, very long line. That is the sort of thing those bald Buddhist donkeys like to talk about.”

“Go prepare.”

“This subordinate thanks the Count.”

The Savage King still did not leave.

Instead, he said:

“Count, there is one more matter.”

“Speak.”

“When the assault begins, every eye will be watching. Using Savages as the vanguard against the camp will look like a stroke of genius to the other commanders. They will only admire the Count’s skill at driving hounds and horses. But there is one man you probably cannot fool. It would be best if the Count warned him in advance.”

“I know.”

“Then this subordinate takes his leave.”

He said he was leaving.

Yet Gou Moli remained standing there.

Zheng Fan looked at him.

Gou Moli looked back.

After a moment, Gou Moli pointed behind himself.

“This subordinate is... going among the Savages now?”

“Go.”

“This subordinate is really going?”

“You don’t want to?”

“No, no. It is only... happiness arrived so suddenly that this subordinate feels it is somewhat unreal.”

“Then don’t go.”

“No, no, no! This subordinate knows his error. This subordinate knows his error. Count, speaking from the heart, you really are relaxed about this. Aren’t you afraid something will happen when the day comes to storm the camp?”

“Is this your attempt to blacken your own name? Or have you suddenly gotten tired of living?”

“This subordinate was only joking with the Count. A joke.”

“On the day of the assault, a million-man army will be arrayed around us. I give you three thousand Savage riders. What exactly can you do? Rebel on the battlefield? Capture me and hand me to the Chu? Tell me. After you seize me and deliver me to Chu, which of us dies? You, or me?”

After all, Zheng Fan was an Imperial Son-in-Law of Chu.

When he had gone to Yanjing, the Regent had even sent Jing Renli over with the ceremonial robes and equipment for the princess and her husband.

“Heh-heh-heh.”

The Savage King began laughing.

He rose and said:

“The Chu really did accumulate some terrible karma.”

With that, Gou Moli slapped the dust from his trouser leg.

“Count, just wait and watch. This dog will not disappoint you.”

...

Not long after Gou Moli left, Liang Cheng arrived.

A’Ming and the Sword Saint followed behind him.

“Weren’t we supposed to wait until night?” Zheng Fan asked.

They had originally planned to inspect the enemy lines that night.

The assault on Central Mountain Camp was supposed to be a surprise attack.

And because timing was everything, there would be no possibility of arriving and then slowly observing the defenses or searching for weak points.

Basically, once they rushed there, the troops would tidy their formation, chew some dry rations, let the horses recover their wind, and begin attacking.

A battlefield changed in an instant.

Every extra moment wasted was another act of contempt toward one’s own safety.

Liang Cheng answered, “Master, beginning this morning, every Yan force increased the number of mounted scouts it sent out. We have already completely suppressed the Chu scouts. Taking advantage of that and disguising ourselves as another scout patrol is actually the best approach. Besides, even if we truly wait until darkness, the quality of our observations may not improve.”

“Fine. Help me into armor.”

Two personal guards stepped forward and began armoring Zheng Fan.

Count Pingye had no intention of wearing the glittering golden armor.

While they worked, Zheng Fan glanced at the Sword Saint.

The man still wore an ordinary long robe.

“Blades and arrows have no eyes.”

He was telling the Sword Saint to wear armor.

The Sword Saint replied:

“It restricts movement.”

Count Pingye said:

“I’m afraid you’ll stand out.”

The Sword Saint had nothing to say to that.

He could only allow Zheng Fan’s guards to help him into armor as well.

“Count, this subordinate will bring out your Pixiu,” one personal guard said.

“Excellent. Starting tomorrow, you no longer need to report here. Go to the stable and take charge of brushing the Pixiu.”

“...” The personal guard.

...

The “mounted scout patrol” set out.

Count Pingye rode with Liang Cheng, A’Ming, the Sword Saint, and ten personal guards.

Any larger group would attract attention.

An ordinary scouting patrol was usually about this size.

The afternoon light was gloomy.

As everyone rode, Count Pingye repeatedly looked up at the sky.

“Looks like rain.”

Rain itself did not necessarily affect a siege very much.

Many siege weapons could endure everything except fire.

But attacking a fortified camp during rain or immediately afterward was another matter.

A siege assault did not normally depend on mounted shock.

Storming a military camp often did.

Imagine the ground outside the camp becoming one huge field of mud.

Horse hooves sank in and could barely pull free.

How were cavalry supposed to charge?

Even if the troops dismounted and attacked on foot, men still relied on their legs.

Mud would severely restrict movement and consume much more strength during a rush.

Liang Cheng said, “Master, judging by the wind, the rain should arrive tonight.”

Count Pingye shook his head.

When misfortunes came, they really did come together.

The group continued deeper.

From time to time they passed near Chu forts or camps.

At first, the Chu had tried to compete with Yan in the mounted-scout war.

Later, after discovering just how strong the Yan scouts were and suffering through several costly exchanges, the Chu pulled their patrols inward.

So when Count Pingye’s group passed those forts, they heard gongs sounding in the distance but saw no troops sent out to intercept them.

Even so, the general impression was clear.

These Chu troops were nothing like the Qian soldiers of three years ago.

They were disciplined and alert.

This was not passive defense.

Before dusk, Count Pingye’s group finally reached the outskirts of Central Mountain Camp.

Only after seeing it with his own eyes did he realize how enormous the overall site was.

Not enormous in terms of the camp itself or the number of soldiers inside.

It looked more like a vast construction project waiting to resume.

Using a description from Count Pingye’s previous life, it resembled an entire district of unfinished buildings abandoned halfway through construction.

One could clearly see that the Chu had intended to build a huge military fort here.

The foundations had been laid.

The places that needed digging or cutting had already been marked and prepared.

Then the project had stopped.

With no other choice, the present Central Mountain Camp had been built beside that unfinished work.

This was not truly a mountain.

At most it was a broad earthen rise, with a moderate slope and enough thickness to shape the ground without becoming steep.

The camp relied on that terrain.

To the west stood the “unfinished development.”

To the north, because that side faced the war front directly, lines of defensive works could be seen from a great distance.

The palisades had been built densely and carefully enough that looking at them gave Count Pingye a headache.

The group continued eastward and climbed partway up the slope.

From here they could see a body of cavalry leaving the camp and stopping near its gate.

The watchtowers inside had probably spotted Zheng Fan’s party long ago.

But the distance remained too great.

Whether for pursuit or simple expulsion, sending riders out would waste effort.

So the cavalry stayed near the gate.

If Count Pingye’s group approached much closer, that might change.

“What if we attack from here?” Count Pingye asked Liang Cheng.

Liang Cheng shook his head.

“Master, in truth there is little difference no matter which direction we choose. Comparatively, the front is still the best place to attack. Master, look. On the western side, the camp can rely on the foundations of the unfinished military fort. It is almost the same as borrowing a wall. Attacking there would be extremely difficult. On the eastern side, which is the direction directly facing us now, the Chu have built three defensive layers: outer camp, middle camp, inner camp. Not merely palisades either. This subordinate can guarantee there are trenches and other traps laid between them. If our army attacks from this side, even a vanguard willing to throw away every life might still fail to tear through all three lines. Once the vanguard fails to achieve a decisive result, the troops behind can only keep feeding more men inside. At that point, the battle becomes pure attrition.”

“So circling behind them won’t work either,” Count Pingye said.

Charging from high ground downward looked advantageous.

In practice, it was not especially feasible.

The attackers would have to climb the slope first.

Even on horseback, climbing would consume enormous energy.

More importantly, there was not enough distance to build speed.

Without a long enough run, the shock advantage of cavalry could not be expressed.

Of course, when the real battle began, they would certainly send a body of cavalry up there to roam around and harass the defenders, forcing the Chu to divide their attention.

“So we can only attack from the front?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Yes, Master. The front looks like the most heavily defended side, but it is actually the weakest. Central Mountain Camp is not only a defensive position. It is also a transfer station for troops moving between the other forts and camps. Master, look at those gates. There are three separate entrances. They were designed that way to increase efficiency when troops and supplies are passing through.”

A military camp built among steep mountains could be extremely effective.

On open ground, even one built halfway up a broad hill like this could not truly be called impregnable.

With enough siege equipment, grind it for a while and wear it down.

The enemy troops might not die out, but the defensive works themselves eventually would.

If one wanted true defense, one still needed a military fort or a walled city.

A military camp was fundamentally a place to rely on.

A protected garrison site used to prevent surprise attacks.

In a great field battle, a defender could also use a fortified camp as an anchor point when forming the line.

That was why history contained no famous campaign where someone spent half a year or a year finally conquering a single military camp.

And yet Central Mountain Camp, placed here, was the finishing touch that brought the entire system to life.

It simply sat there.

Openly disgusting you.

And yet swallowing it in a single bite was extraordinarily difficult.

If the Prince of Jingnan had not arrayed the massive surrounding force this time and frozen the Chu army’s ability to move freely, the Yan might not even have possessed an opportunity to attack it at all.

Unless they smashed it in one wave.

The instant the attack stalled, reinforcements could arrive from every surrounding fort and camp, including Zhennan Pass itself, and pinch the attackers from every direction.

“Good thing Old Tian never let them build a proper fort here,” Count Pingye sighed.

If a military fort were standing on this ground now, then taking it with a surprise attack in one wave or even several waves would require every man under Count Pingye to transform into Fan Li.

“As long as we break into the camp, the rest will be easy. With the fighting strength of our army, and with an advantage in numbers, dismounting and fighting on foot will not be a problem.”

Snow Sea Pass’s troops had been trained by Liang Cheng personally.

He possessed absolute confidence in his own work.

“You don’t feel bad about losing them?” Count Pingye asked.

“Master, once we have decided to fight, there is no room left to worry about that.”

“Then we truly have no common language.”

Count Pingye teased him with a smile.

But almost immediately, he looked worriedly toward the sky again.

“I think...”

Before he could finish, a drop of rain landed on the tip of his nose.

“It’s raining.”

The storm seemed to have been gathering for a long time.

At first, only scattered drops fell.

Then the rain abruptly became a torrent.

Its timing was almost too perfect.

The ground before Central Mountain Camp was already low.

If this rain continued, it could easily become one broad swamp of mud.

For Yan cavalry, that was a nightmare.

After Qian’s catastrophic defeat a century ago, the state had learned from the pain and spent enormous quantities of labor and wealth diverting a branch of the Qian River.

They had tried to alter the river’s course and create a natural barrier before Shangjing.

They even spread flooded rice paddies across the approaches.

The purpose was simple: stop Yan’s most powerful cavalry.

Unfortunately for Qian, a century later the Yan happened to invade during winter.

They simply crossed the frozen surface of the Bian River and rode straight to the walls of Shangjing.

“Actually, Master, this is good. When we attack, the Chu will have even less time to prepare. They will not expect us to storm the camp during heavy rain or immediately afterward while the ground is still mud.”

Count Pingye turned toward Liang Cheng.

“Are you comforting me?”

“No, Master.”

“Then tell me how we deal with the mud below.”

“When we charge, have every rider carry one sack of earth. We only need to fill the low, flooded portions enough to create one strip where the horses can build speed and strike the camp.”

“Hahahahaha!”

Count Pingye laughed.

“Heh-heh-heh.”

Liang Cheng laughed too.

A’Ming rolled his eyes.

The Sword Saint remained as unmoving as a mountain.

After laughing for quite a while, Count Pingye noticed Liang Cheng was not adding anything.

His own laughter slowly stopped.

He looked surprised.

“You weren’t joking?”

...

Inside Central Mountain Camp, Jing Renli had just finished reading the General-in-Chief’s order to the camp commander, Chi Mingyi.

Chi Mingyi himself was not noble-born.

But he was the son-in-law of the Bai Clan of Baipu.

The Bai Clan’s fief lay in Changxi Commandery beside the Great Marsh.

Many waterways extended from the Great Marsh into the commandery.

Leaving aside attacks by monster beasts, water bandits alone were an enormous problem.

The Bai Clan currently held a noble rank of the Third Order.

Their ancestors, however, had once held the First Order.

Generations ago, a Bai clan head committed a serious offense and the family was punished with a reduction in rank.

The clan had originally been enfeoffed at Baipu by an Emperor of Chu with orders to suppress and clear out the water bandits of Changxi Commandery.

The bandits had never been completely eliminated.

That did not necessarily mean the Bai Clan had failed or deliberately cultivated bandits to preserve its own usefulness.

The Great Marsh itself had always been one of Chu’s great gathering places for every kind of fugitive and undesirable.

Among Chu’s wandering swordsmen and street toughs, one especially popular threat went:

“Push your grandpa too far and I’ll chop you down with one saber, then run into the Great Marsh!”

With new blood constantly flowing in, Changxi Commandery could never become truly peaceful.

But with the Bai Clan and the Baipu Army present, at least surface order had always been maintained.

For this campaign, the Bai Clan had sent more than eight thousand soldiers, all elite.

First, they wanted to serve the state.

Second, they hoped to earn enough merit in this great war to raise their family’s rank again.

Chi Mingyi smiled.

“I understand. The General-in-Chief is simply using me and the Baipu Army as bait.”

“You should not put it that way.”

“Whether I say it or not changes nothing. I only hope the General-in-Chief remembers what the Baipu Army has paid. Brother Jing, please trouble yourself to tell him this when you return: so long as the Baipu Army remains, Central Mountain Camp remains. When I was first selected to garrison this position, I already understood what might happen. If the Yan never come, so be it. If they do, then let them learn how formidable the Baipu Rattan-Armored Troops are.”

“General Chi’s righteousness commands Jing’s admiration.”

“Not at all. Not at all. Truthfully, Brother Jing, you did not need to make this trip personally. Yan scouts have been unusually aggressive these days. It is dangerous.”

“If the trip should be made, then it must be made. Running messages is the trade Jing performs in this army, isn’t it? Hahaha.”

The Jing Clan concentrated its strength on Great Chu’s literary and educational affairs.

It possessed little influence inside the army.

During the Regent’s mobilization, the Jing Clan had not fielded a formed private army.

Instead, it contributed large numbers of household servants as laborers.

Jing Renli had chosen the military road.

For the most part, he had to walk it on his own.

At that moment, the patter of rain sounded outside the tent.

Chi Mingyi raised the flap and stepped outside with Jing Renli.

Jing Renli smiled.

“This rain is rather heavy.”

Chi Mingyi sighed.

“Looks like the Yan will not be coming for a while. Once their horses sink into slurry and mud, they will barely be able to advance or retreat.”

“That is true.”

“That is why I have always believed that even if the Yan somehow break Zhennan Pass, their horses will never display the same power once they enter Great Chu’s land of marshes and waterways.”

“General Chi may say that to me. Do not say it to outsiders. Zhennan Pass must not be lost.”

“I know. I know.”

Jing Renli looked toward the western side of the camp.

Two trebuchets stood there.

He laughed.

“Why do you have those inside a military camp?”

Ordinarily, trebuchets would not be assigned to a position like this.

“A while ago they were supposed to pass through here on the way to West Fort. They broke during transport, so the craftsmen left them with me to repair. Then Yan increased the number of mounted scouts, and I was about to tell West Fort to send its own men to fetch the damned things. I couldn’t be bothered wasting my effort.”

“Heh. I have heard that Great Yan’s Count Pingye also understands mechanical construction. When the Savages attacked cities in earlier years, he used machines like these.”

“Yan mechanical arts have only learned the outer skin. Nothing worth putting on a proper table.”

“True.”

“Oh, right. Someone come.”

“General.”

“Didn’t you report earlier that Yan mounted scouts appeared to the east? Have they left?”

“Reporting to the General, they have not. Vice General Xu was preparing to ask whether the General wished to send a cavalry detachment out to drive them away.”

“Why bother with a few flies? It would only waste strength.”

Chi Mingyi pointed at one of the trebuchets.

“Call the craftsmen over. Let Brother Jing and this general open our eyes.”

Jing Renli said, “General Chi, is that really appropriate?”

“What is inappropriate about it? We’re only playing around. I find those things annoying just sitting here taking up space. Once the real fighting starts, they’ll be damned useless anyway.”

The defensive depth of a military camp was too shallow.

Once an enemy reached the camp itself, a trebuchet’s firing distance became awkward.

Force it to shoot at too short a range and it might actually smash open a breach that helped the enemy enter.

Jing Renli followed the offered ladder down.

“Can it actually hit them?”

“Unless that Yan scout patrol’s fate truly clashes with ours, probably not. But frightening them a little would still be entertaining. Hahaha.”

...

“We’re really filling the ground with earth and then charging the camp?”

Count Pingye was still tangled up on this point.

The old saying went:

When soldiers come, send a general. When water comes, block it with earth.

But actually using that crude “block water with earth” solution here left Count Pingye with the persistent feeling that Liang Cheng was screwing with him.

“Master, that is exactly what we will do. We do not need to fill everything. We only need to fill one strip well enough for the horses to accelerate and strike.”

“Fine. If you think it works, it works.”

“Master, there is movement inside the camp,” A’Ming said, pointing ahead.

There genuinely was.

Count Pingye’s party now stood slightly above the middle of the slope, giving them half the advantage of high ground.

From here, they could see the situation inside the camp fairly clearly.

“What are the Chu doing?” A’Ming asked. “Dragging out a trebuchet? Looks like they actually want to shoot at us.”

This was what it meant to fire a cannon at a mosquito.

Even the finest trebuchet could at most guarantee things like:

If I aim at the wall, I probably won’t throw the stone deep into the city.

If I aim inside the city, I probably won’t drop it short on top of the wall.

Precisely striking a tiny group of men at long range?

Dream on.

Liang Cheng spoke too.

“If that thing can actually hit us, there really must be ghosts in this world...”

Count Pingye immediately glared at Liang Cheng.

Then pointed at him and A’Ming.

“Do the two of you not know what kind of things you yourselves are?”

With that, Count Pingye immediately waved.

“Withdraw!”

He kicked his horse forward first.

Everyone behind him followed.

Count Pingye had never possessed much confidence in his battlefield luck.

One only had to count the number of holes in A’Ming after each battle to understand why.

Most of the arrow wounds A’Ming carried had come from blocking arrows meant for Zheng Fan.

Did people truly exist who could survive a hundred battles without dying, Heaven-chosen sons beloved by fate?

Count Pingye believed they did.

Unfortunately, he did not seem to belong to that group.

It was not that he wanted to be a coward.

The facts had simply taught him that the god of fate not only refused to favor him, but seemed to enjoy watching him “die midway through the enterprise.”

Thrum!

The trebuchet inside Central Mountain Camp fired.

A massive stone flew into the air, traced a parabola, and began descending.

Count Pingye rode at the very front.

Behind him, the personal guards looked up first.

Then

A’Ming and Liang Cheng looked up.

The enormous stone screamed over their heads and flew directly toward Master, who had already pulled well ahead of everyone else.

The Sword Saint, still on horseback, became so furious he almost laughed.

He cursed aloud:

“He actually knows himself this well!”

The bastard had genuinely known he might be that unlucky.

And in fact, he truly was!

So when Zheng Fan shamelessly begged the Sword Saint to accompany him onto battlefields, it had not merely been because the man feared death.

The bastard genuinely died easily!

How had someone like this survived until today while repeatedly earning military merit from one battlefield after another?

“Spread out!”

The Sword Saint barked once.

His body launched from the saddle as he flew directly toward Zheng Fan, who was still racing ahead.

Count Pingye heard the screaming wind behind him.

He turned his head.

His pupils contracted violently.

Thrum!

The Demon Pill against his chest suddenly moved.

In the past, it had flown outward to smash other people.

This time, the Demon Pill smashed directly into its own father.

Thud!

The impact struck Zheng Fan squarely in the chest.

The reverse force blasted him off the horse while the mount continued running forward.

Boom!

The massive stone landed.

It crushed Count Pingye’s warhorse directly into meat paste.

Parts of the stone shattered on impact, spraying fragments in every direction.

Fortunately, the Sword Saint appeared in front of Zheng Fan at that exact moment.

Longyuan spun into a dense curtain of light.

Every stone fragment flying toward Zheng Fan was shredded into dust.

Count Pingye clutched his chest.

“Cough... cough...”

He spat out blood.

The Demon Pill had hit him rather hard.

Too much force.

He had come within the tiniest distance of going to keep Qing Taizu company.

Everyone gathered around with lingering fear.

A’Ming stepped forward and helped Zheng Fan to his feet.

The others looked at one another.

For a moment, no one knew what to say.

Count Pingye, on the other hand, had somehow gained a little cheer after escaping death.

“Good thing I didn’t ride the Pixiu.”

Then he looked through the curtain of rain toward distant Central Mountain Camp.

Originally, there had been no grudge between them.

Now, there was.

...

Atop the watchtower, Chi Mingyi and Jing Renli stood together.

“Did it hit them? Why does it look like it actually hit?” Jing Renli asked while peering into the distance.

They were too far away.

The rain also blocked their vision.

Nothing was clear.

Chi Mingyi was much more relaxed.

“Wait until the rain eases, then send someone over to take a look. Even if we did hit them, it was only two or three little kittens. Hardly worth mentioning. Brother Jing, you cannot expect me to carry two tiny Yan fish back to General-in-Chief Nian and ask for a reward while reporting a glorious victory, can you?”

...

Inside the Snow Sea Army camp, the Blind Man had just left the Savage King.

Gou Moli was selecting men from among the slave force.

When the Blind Man returned near the command tent, he saw an armored soldier inside the stable brushing the Pixiu while crying.

Tears streamed down the man’s face.

The Pixiu, meanwhile, kept snorting in obvious comfort.

“What happened? Has the Count left camp?”

The soldier immediately stood and saluted the Blind Man.

“Mr. Bei, the Count has left.”

“Oh. Then why are you crying?”

“When the Count was leaving, this lowly one asked whether I should bring out the Pixiu. The Count... the Count... the Count expelled me from the personal guard and ordered me to work here brushing horses full-time.”

“Oh.”

The Blind Man nodded.

Then he told the heartbroken former personal guard:

“Brush it well.”

[End of Chapter 513]