Chapter 557: - South to the Imperial Capital

“Now that is interesting.”

Both father and mother bore the surname Qu.

Of course, that alone did not necessarily mean anything.

In later generations, married couples sharing a surname were extremely common. Their children did not even need to argue over whose surname to take.

But... how to put it?

Yao Zizhan himself was infamously romantic.

Whenever he traveled through the various states, he left stories of love behind him.

He practically loosened his belt to enjoy himself, ran off the moment the enjoyment was over, then wrote a poem from far away.

Outsiders saw carefree romance.

In reality, the old bastard had simply been shameless.

Yet even a man like Yao Zizhan had once written that inside the gates of great households lay the filthiest stench of all.

So filthy one dared not step inside.

So evil it chilled the liver and heart.

So foul it made a man struggle not to retch.

Given that, Count Pingye could hardly stop his thoughts from drifting toward a very particular possibility.

Zhao Qi spoke:

“You really are the first person who has ever asked me what my mother’s surname is.”

Then he added:

“Everyone outside knows I am an illegitimate child of the Qu Clan. That alone is enough for me to eat and drink my way through life. Count, the place your attention falls is truly astonishing.”

“Do you want to tell me?” Count Pingye asked.

“If Count wishes to know, how would this slave dare refuse?”

“No. It is different. Earlier, you were the prisoner and I was the master. Now the business has been settled. You are...”

“A friend?”

Zhao Qi’s eyes lit up.

“You are the mangy fellow beneath the locust tree at the village entrance gossiping about other people, and I am the lazy bastard sitting beside him in the shade listening to it.”

If you wanted to talk, he was willing to listen.

Zhao Qi smiled.

“Count, that comparison is interesting. Let me put it this way. This slave’s mother is one generation senior to Qu Peiluo, whom Count knows. And if this slave could enter the Qu Clan genealogy, then this slave would also be one generation senior to Qu Peiluo.”

“Oh...”

“What does Count think?”

“Very interesting.”

“This slave thinks so too.”

“You want to live?”

“This slave wants to live well.”

“Take the horse farm, and this Count promises you a future.”

“A future that can be exchanged for how many beautiful men?”

“This Count does not enjoy that particular tune. So if you do not want this Count to cut your head off one day when I am in a bad mood, then from now on, act a little more normal in front of me.”

Zhao Qi lowered himself fully to the ground.

“This lowly one understands.”

...

Liang Cheng and Jin Shuke returned with their troops.

The gains from that battle had been considerable while their own losses were extremely light.

But they had still been constrained by the mobility of infantry, preventing them from expanding the result any farther into a rolling-collapse effect.

Nor could they continue pushing north.

Do that and they risked being wrapped up and swallowed by the Chu in return.

Take the profit and stop.

The soldiers could rest.

The generals could not.

Count Pingye had only slept for a short while in the latter half of the night. The moment he heard A’Cheng and the others had returned, he summoned them immediately.

Gou Moli, who had gone out to receive them, came as well.

When the Blind Man was present, Gou Moli’s role could seem somewhat redundant.

But the Blind Man was now back at Snow Sea Pass managing affairs at home.

That made Gou Moli’s strategic vision suddenly stand out.

He was, after all, the Savage King who had once stirred up the great Savage storm.

No one dared disregard his judgment or suggestions.

He Chunlai, that “anti-Qing, restore-the-Ming” righteous hero, had now completely transformed into Count Pingye’s personal life assistant.

Together with Niu Dongguan, he had prepared a late-night meal in advance.

Originally they could have set the food out in the courtyard.

Unfortunately, grain was being burned throughout the city on a massive scale.

The aroma of roasted grain by itself would have been tolerable.

The endless smoke and ash were not.

So the doors and windows had to remain tightly closed while everyone stayed indoors.

“This is the situation. This Count wants to explain what I am thinking.”

Count Pingye ate one wonton, then left the spoon resting in the bowl.

“I see it like this. Jing City cannot be held, but we still have to choke off this position. We cannot allow communication between Shanggu Commandery and the Chu heartland to become smooth again. What we need is the effect. The method can be flexible. For example... that horse farm.”

Count Pingye looked at A’Cheng.

“If we can take the horse farm and equip several thousand cavalry, A’Cheng, are you confident you can use those cavalry to continue controlling this entire area?”

Several thousand cavalry were not few.

But neither were they truly many.

Everything depended on how they were used.

If you hurled them directly against an enemy formation, several thousand cavalry amounted to one hammer blow.

If the hammer failed to break the formation, you would probably be trapped inside it.

But if those cavalry could appear suddenly the way Jin Shuke had outside East Mountain Fort, crashing into the struggle between Yan and Chu at the right instant and overturning the entire battlefield in one blow, then the effect could be enormous.

Liang Cheng naturally understood what his Master was thinking.

So he answered directly:

“Master, we captured quite a few more ships at Jing City’s docks. If the surprise attack on the horse farm succeeds, leave this subordinate some of those ships as well. With that, this subordinate is confident I can remain here and play several rounds of push-hands with the Chu. Also, if Master takes the main force south, the later Chu reinforcements coming from the heartland will probably be unable, and too afraid, to continue north into Shanggu Commandery. That would relieve a great deal of pressure from this subordinate as well.”

If Count Pingye led the main force south by ship, he could directly threaten Great Chu’s imperial capital.

Years earlier, Emperor Yan had once written openly to the Barbarian King:

“If you dare send troops, then Great Yan will abandon even Yanjing if necessary. We will gather every soldier who can fight and every horse that can be ridden, drive everything into the desert, and charge straight for your Royal Court!”

The Regent of Chu would probably dare say something similar.

From what Count Pingye had heard, seen, and personally experienced, his elder brother-in-law the Regent truly was not an ordinary man.

But at the end of the day, Great Chu had its own national conditions.

If you wanted to threaten someone by flipping the table, you first needed the power to actually flip it.

Emperor Yan ruled absolutely.

After trampling the aristocratic clans beneath his horses, not one person in the court dared openly defy him.

Part of Great Yan’s military power lay in the court’s hands.

All the rest stood either in the hands of the two Marquises or under their command.

One of those Marquises was the Marquis of Zhenbei, the man the Barbarians feared most.

The other had once been the southern Marquis who dared annihilate his own entire clan.

If Emperor Yan wanted to go mad, Great Yan could, and inevitably would, go mad with him.

That table genuinely could be overturned.

So the Barbarian King had yielded.

Throughout that three-state war, the Barbarians had not dared mobilize troops from beginning to end.

They had even voluntarily sent two tribes they disliked into Yan territory to surrender and submit.

But what about Chu?

Suppose the Regent shouted:

Ignore Ying Capital!

Ignore our homes!

Launch a full northern invasion!

First, perhaps Ying Capital could be ignored.

But could the great nobles ignore their own fiefs?

Heaven alone knew whether this Yan army, after reaching Ying Capital and discovering the walls too high to break, might turn around and start roaming through other places instead.

The Regent could display “lofty selflessness.”

That did not mean all the nobles beneath him would genuinely agree to forget their own front doors.

At the same time, there was an even more important point.

If Yan went mad and attacked the Barbarians, completely exterminating the Barbarian people was impossible.

But smashing the Royal Court cavalry, chasing the Royal Court around the desert for several circuits, and stripping away both its nominal prestige and its actual military strength?

That was perfectly possible.

For the Barbarian King, even if the Royal Court continued to exist afterward, it would probably have fallen into nothing more than an ordinary desert tribe.

But Chu?

Launch a full northern invasion?

It sounded courageous.

Could Chu actually do it?

Outside Zhennan Pass, several hundred thousand iron riders under the Prince of Jingnan were waiting.

If the Chu truly dared ride out for a northern invasion, why had they built so many turtle shells in the first place?

In the end, the reason Count Pingye could remain so relaxed, the reason all the generals under him could still feel this confident even deep inside enemy territory, was not poor military judgment.

Nor was it a lack of danger awareness.

It was national strength.

National momentum.

At least on the battlefield, the Yan army held absolute initiative.

Whether a little ghost dared act arrogant depended entirely on which King of Hell stood behind him.

One had to remember that even if Count Pingye took the main force south and drew away the Chu armies coming from the heartland, several hundred thousand of Chu’s strongest troops still remained around Zhennan Pass.

Yet Liang Cheng still dared calmly say that with several thousand cavalry and some ships, he could expand the battlefield and fight a guerrilla campaign while continuing to choke off Chu logistics.

The most fundamental reason was that the Chu forces to the north had the Prince of Jingnan personally watching them.

Gou Moli smiled.

Then covered his mouth.

Then even covered his eyes.

For a moment, his emotions slipped slightly out of control.

When he lowered his hands, the rims of his eyes had reddened.

The dog was not deliberately acting.

He truly had not disguised himself.

There was no particular need for masks here.

And he understood that Count Pingye and the subordinates called “Misters” preferred people to be “real.”

Gou Moli remembered himself in the past.

When he learned Snow Sea Pass had fallen to Count Pingye, he had frozen immediately.

For a while, he even regretted learning the news at all.

Because once he knew, trying to pretend he did not know would inevitably leave traces of “acting.”

But the opponent across from him had been Tian Wujing.

That was a man whose battlefield perception was so meticulous it made the scalp go numb.

The final result had been obvious.

Tian Wujing saw through the secret instability in the Savage rear.

He predicted the Savage King’s prediction.

Then he used deception to lure the main Savage army across the river before smashing it head-on with the main strength of Great Yan.

“What is it?” Count Pingye asked, looking at Gou Moli.

Gou Moli wiped away his tears.

Then smiled.

“This subordinate was only thinking that before long, General-in-Chief Nian of Chu will have to suffer the same wound this subordinate once suffered. It feels... wonderful. I’m so happy.”

When someone else repeats the disaster you once suffered, most people will take pleasure in it.

“Hehehe...”

Count Pingye laughed.

Everyone else politely joined him.

“Gentlemen, we can all be considered family now. You all understand what this battle means to us, so I will not hide anything. However great the difficulty before us, it is worth overcoming. Imagine it. Zhennan Pass broken. Chu’s northern elites annihilated. Shanggu Commandery incorporated into Yan territory. After that, all of eastern Jin becomes our family foundation. The first Marquis of Zhenbei established his residence after that great victory a century ago. A hundred years later, his house still stands as the pillar supporting Beifeng Commandery. Now it is time for us to plant our own pillar!”

Everyone prepared to kneel and shout slogans again.

Zheng Fan raised one hand and stopped them.

“This matter should be handled sooner rather than later. We need to seize that horse farm as quickly as possible. If we wait too long, I am afraid they will grow wary. Liang Cheng.”

“This subordinate is here!”

“I leave this matter to you. Personally choose a force and go. If you take the horse farm successfully, send someone back to report immediately.”

“Yes, Master.”

“As for the rest of you, make your preparations. I hope everything goes smoothly. Because I want to go south to Ying Capital and see the scenery.”

...

He Chunlai, who had prepared the late-night meal, naturally had neither the opportunity nor the qualifications to join the meeting that truly belonged to Snow Sea Pass’s inner circle.

He sat on the steps.

Beside him sat Niu Dongguan.

Niu Dongguan took a handful of dried fruit from his pocket and offered it over.

He Chunlai accepted some.

“Your cooking is excellent,” He Chunlai said.

“Heh. Today’s meal was the most nervous I’ve ever been in my whole life. I apprenticed under my master for ten years. Even the first time I stood at a stove and cooked for paying guests, I was not that nervous.”

Niu Dongguan was an honest man.

That was why, upon seeing Fourth Lady, he could curse the Yan army outside as “Yan dogs,” and then, when he saw Count Pingye, immediately kneel and shout, “Honored lord!”

It was said that every ordinary man bore responsibility for the rise and fall of the realm.

But by the time that responsibility was divided all the way down to a cook like Niu Dongguan, Heaven knew how little of it remained.

The nobles and generals were not all dead yet.

It hardly seemed his turn to risk his life for the state.

Another side of Niu Dongguan’s honesty was that he found He Chunlai naturally approachable.

In his eyes, He Chunlai was like him.

Another cook.

“What do you plan to do?” He Chunlai asked.

Niu Dongguan answered:

“Live.”

The world was already hard enough.

After personally seeing so many people die inside and outside the city, merely staying alive counted as enormous fortune.

“You haven’t thought about later? About the future?”

“If I don’t live through later, how can there be any future?”

He Chunlai thought that made excellent sense.

He nodded very seriously.

“Then rest. The Count wakes early. We have to prepare breakfast tomorrow. He likes noodles. Make a Chu-style noodle dish. Add more scallions and herbs. As for chili oil... I’ll mix the chili oil.”

“Got it, brother.”

The next morning, Count Pingye woke.

At almost the same time, Liang Cheng, who had not rested at all after organizing his troops, had already taken Zhao Qi and departed east from the city.

The grain stores inside Jing City were still burning.

The flames had not yet consumed everything.

But the soldiers had eaten extravagantly these past two days.

Burning grain was one way to dispose of it.

Eating it was another.

Naturally, the supplies needed by their own army had been separated and preserved long ago.

Burning everything only to discover they had left themselves nothing to eat would be genuinely having water in the brain.

Count Pingye first took a bath.

Conditions aboard ship had been limited.

Now that his feet were “on solid ground,” he had to seize the opportunity to scrub properly.

Fourth Lady had prepared the bathwater.

At Count Pingye’s request, the two of them bathed together.

They kept washing until the water below was practically foaming at the mouth.

Count Pingye pushed open the door and walked into the courtyard.

He drew a deep breath of air carrying the smell of wood ash and roasted grain.

The “refreshed and invigorated” feeling he had just gained from the bath nearly suffocated back inside him.

He had no choice but to retreat into the room and order the personal guards outside to bring breakfast in.

Breakfast was abundant.

Count Pingye was very satisfied.

After eating, while wiping his hands, he looked toward He Chunlai.

“That Niu Dongguan seems to have decent skill.”

“Yes, Count.”

“Bring him along. It would be a shame to lose a cook this good. Have him learn Yan cuisine too. See if he can eventually put together some kind of full Yan-Chu banquet.”

“Yes, Count.”

“And you? What do you plan to do in the future? Chen Daole stayed behind at Snow Sea Pass to help the Blind Man manage affairs. You cannot remain beside me forever doing nothing but cooking.”

“Count, I think this is actually quite good.”

“A waste of your ability.”

“Being able to keep the Count eating and drinking well is also an important matter. Truthfully, Count, the fact that you dare eat food I prepared makes me feel... rather impressed.”

“There are things the Blind Man has probably already told you. But what I should say, I still need to say. In my eyes, there is actually no distinction between Yan and Jin. Though I do like the State of Yan.”

“This subordinate can feel that.”

“But what I truly care about are my own people. That is something I once told the Sword Saint too. I do not care whether the people beneath me are Yan, Jin, Barbarians, Savages, or perhaps even Chu in the future. If they are willing to kneel to me and follow me, then I treat them as my own. I will protect them. Aside from my own life, I can take out everything else I have to protect them.”

“This subordinate has seen it.”

Hearing a hundred times was not as good as seeing once.

The Sword Saint had once guarded Shengle City’s gate.

He had also slaughtered pigs at Snow Sea Pass.

He could feel very clearly that the former General’s Residence, now the Count’s Residence, was genuinely willing to spend heavily on the livelihood of the people under it.

Perhaps a historian would one day interpret that as the posture of someone seeking the realm: unlike peasant rebels who began indulging themselves too early, this household possessed larger ambitions.

But the Sword Saint and He Chunlai were not men of the imperial court.

What they had witnessed with their own eyes was the living standard of the common people under the Count’s rule.

“I do not want to ask about your past. But if you are willing to create a happier and better home with me, a future where people live and work in peace, where there is no oppression, no exploitation, perhaps even no divisions of race, where everyone lives together peacefully, respects one another, and stands as equals, then I am willing to accept you.”

“Is that... a dream?”

“We dream first. Only then is there any chance of making it real.”

He Chunlai nodded.

“What does Count want for lunch?”

“Something light.”

“Understood, Count.”

“Thank you for the trouble.”

“It is an honor.”

Lunch was indeed light.

By nightfall, the burning of the grain had finally reached its end.

Reports from over there said quite a few soldiers had started crying while feeding the fires.

That was understandable.

If possible, Count Pingye would have liked to transport all that grain back too.

Only great lords who had never touched labor with any of their ten fingers could utter brain-dead things like, “Why not eat meat porridge?”

For the overwhelming majority of ordinary people, especially those born at the bottom, grain inspired something that came from the bones.

Reverence.

The Sword Saint sat drinking tea.

He sighed.

“What a waste.”

Count Pingye nodded.

“Yes.”

The Sword Saint asked:

“The Chu still haven’t come?”

The first nearby reinforcement force had been broken by Liang Cheng and Jin Shuke.

But the Chu obviously would not simply give up.

Nor did they possess the right to give up.

“Probably soon.”

Just then, a messenger rushed into the courtyard and dropped to his knees before Count Pingye, who was sitting by the doorway enjoying the night breeze.

The man’s lips were cracked.

His face and posture were exhausted.

Clearly he had been pushed to the edge by fatigue.

Yet he immediately saluted.

“Count! General Liang has taken the horse farm! There are no fewer than four thousand usable warhorses!”

Count Pingye smiled.

He stood.

Then issued the order:

“Pass down my command. Set fire to the city. Burn Jing City flat!”

Count Pingye straightened his sleeves.

Then focused for a moment on his appearance.

The Sword Saint, seated opposite him, asked:

“What is it?”

Count Pingye answered:

“I’m about to go meet my mother-in-law. I’m a little nervous.”

[End of Chapter 557]