Chapter Sixty-One: A Last-Ditch Effort (Part Two)

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Chu Shanhe stood with his eyes half-closed, clad in white robes and cloud-patterned boots, his warhorse Lu standing calmly beneath him. Behind him stretched a sea of black armor: sixty thousand soldiers, dozens of catapults, fine bows and steeds—everything prepared and waiting for his command.

Since Chu Shanhe's arrival, the command of the army had changed hands. The generals were all from the Chu family, and by seniority, they should call him 'Second Uncle.' After the recent incident, full military authority had been entrusted to him upon his arrival.

Chu Qijing, glancing up at the scorching sun and wiping the sweat from his brow, looked at Chu Shanhe, who was still resting with his eyes closed. After a moment's thought, he rode over and spoke softly, "Second Uncle, if we keep waiting, the soldiers will succumb to heatstroke under this sun. Perhaps it's time to act?"

Hearing this, Chu Shanhe opened his eyes slightly and shook his head. "You've reached this position, yet you still don't understand the need to avoid suspicion. In the army, I am not your Second Uncle. As for the attack, it's still too early. Wait a while longer."

"...Understood," Chu Qijing replied, bowing and withdrawing with a somewhat displeased expression.

Beside Chu Shanhe stood a man wearing a fearsome demon mask that concealed his face, though not the depth of his eyes—this was Azure Dragon.

Under normal circumstances, he should have been imprisoned, awaiting punishment. But Chu Shanhe had substituted an escaped convict in his place, bringing Azure Dragon back to his side. Though it was not a direct pardon, the claim of 'atoning for his crimes through service' was nothing but a pretense.

Suddenly, Chu Shanhe’s eyes snapped open, fixed intently on the rebel camp’s gates.

For some reason, the gates seemed almost cowed by his gaze and slowly swung open.

From within came the sounds of fierce fighting, echoing even from a hundred yards away. Along with the clash came a great conflagration rising from the camp, hinting at a brutal struggle within.

Azure Dragon turned to the silent Chu Shanhe, his tone inquiring, “Chief Constable?”

Chu Shanhe narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s not time yet.” Then, turning to Chu Qijing, he ordered, “Take forty thousand men and surround the entire camp. Let not a single one escape.”

“Yes!” Chu Qijing responded with a salute, then turned his horse and shouted, “First through Eighth Battalions, follow me—encircle the enemy!”

In an instant, dust filled the air, and the wind from the galloping horses fluttered Chu Shanhe’s robes.

He was like a viper, waiting for his prey to fall into a web.

Negotiation? Please—wasn’t it simpler just to slaughter this lot? Those who betray once will surely betray again.

Three nights ago, Chu Shanhe had sought out Tang Jiuyuan, but Tang had been eavesdropping on Wen Shanyuan at the time, so Chu Shanhe found nothing.

Azure Dragon, knowing the truth, sent a voice transmission, “Chief Constable, why not absorb these rebels? Weren’t terms already agreed upon a few days ago?”

A faint smile touched Chu Shanhe’s lips as he replied, “I don’t believe it will be so easy to win them over. These men are veterans of decades of war; how can they be persuaded so simply? The fighting inside may be a ruse to lure us in. If I lead the army into the camp, I’ll walk into a trap. I’ll wait until their act fails, until they’re fully surrounded and trapped in this mountain stronghold. The camp has no water source—they must send men down the mountain to fetch it. If we besiege them for ten days or half a month, they’ll collapse without a fight. We used to fear ambushes along the way, making encirclement difficult, but now there’s no need to worry.”

“It was my oversight,” Azure Dragon answered with some reluctance. “I’ve been focused on making up for previous mistakes.”

Chu Shanhe fell silent, his mind drifting. If Wen Shanyuan really did present Tang Jiuyuan’s head and surrender, would he kill him or not?

Half an hour passed, and the forty thousand surrounded the rebel camp.

Just then, the gates crashed open, and under the stunned gaze of the troops, nearly ten thousand armored soldiers emerged.

Their bodies bore fresh wounds, clearly from a bitter struggle. Many collapsed after only a few steps, and the banner above the gate lay hacked and fallen.

“Could it be that...” Chu Shanhe narrowed his eyes. He had not expected Wen Shanyuan to act alone. He had thought Wen would resist alongside Tang Jiuyuan.

As he pondered, a furious shout interrupted his thoughts.

“Chu Shanhe! You bastard!”

The words were barely out when a blood-soaked bundle wrapped in white cloth hurtled toward Chu Shanhe.

He raised his hand, halting it three feet before him. The cloth was soaked through with blood, which still seeped from it.

Unfazed, Chu Shanhe flicked his hand, and the cloth exploded open, revealing Tang Jiuyuan’s severed head.

Covered in blood and rage, a wild-haired man stormed toward Chu Shanhe—Wen Shanyuan himself.

Beneath the Azure Dragon’s mask, his handsome face darkened. He barked at the soldiers, “Stop him!”

The men prepared to intercept the furious Wen Shanyuan, but Chu Shanhe motioned them aside and instead saluted Wen Shanyuan. “General Wen, you are indeed a man of your word. I will keep my promise as agreed three days ago.”

“Nonsense! You dog, you wanted me to die together with him! I’d like nothing more than to carve you up!” Though Wen Shanyuan faced a far stronger foe, he showed no fear, cursing Chu Shanhe with abandon.

Yet Chu Shanhe, though so insulted, showed no anger. Only after Wen Shanyuan finished his tirade did he gesture his men to take him away and see to his wounds.

Seeing Chu Shanhe harbored no murderous intent, Azure Dragon asked, “Chief Constable, what of the rest?”

“Count their number, send them to the prisoner camp, and await the emperor’s orders after we return. The matter is settled—the emperor will trouble us no more.”

Chu Shanhe finally breathed easy. He’d expected a bloody battle, yet things had ended with surprising ease. The rebels were subdued without bloodshed, and a key leader was captured alive—enough merit to erase all past mistakes.

Gazing at the burning camp and the thousands of wounded, Azure Dragon speculated, “Wen Shanyuan must have struck from within, using fire to launch a surprise attack and capture Tang Jiuyuan. Otherwise, he could never have bested him head-on.”

The smooth outcome felt almost unreal, yet upon reflection, it was entirely logical. Azure Dragon could only sigh at his own suspicion.

Wen Shanyuan now sat dazed atop his horse, letting the soldiers lead him slowly toward the imperial camp.

Within the rebel camp, tens of thousands had been ready to act: Wen Shanyuan would parade Tang Jiuyuan before Chu Shanhe, feigning surrender, then poison and rebel. But the plan had changed, leading to this unexpected surrender.

An hour and a half earlier—

A sentry hurried to Tang Jiuyuan and the others, reporting, “The imperial army has assembled before our gates!”

Tang Jiuyuan and Wen Shanyuan had already explained to their men that their earlier quarrel was mere deception.

“Good! Once they attack, we proceed as planned,” Wen Shanyuan declared, confident of victory. He turned and saw Tang Jiuyuan looking troubled.

“Brother Tang, what worries you so?” Wen Shanyuan clapped his shoulder.

“Chu Shanhe is a cunning man. I suspect—”

“Oh, stop your wild guessing. I saw nothing amiss at all. Chu Shanhe isn’t a mind-reader. He can’t possibly know our plan,” Wen Shanyuan interrupted him.

“Fine. What about the young prince...?”

Again Wen Shanyuan cut in, “Don’t worry. That boy outwitted all our men and slipped away down a side path an hour ago. I saw the letter he carried—it was an introduction to Blood River Tower. He’s probably heading south to seek a master.”

“Blood River Tower... Not a bad place. I just wonder if he has the talent to stand out,” Tang Jiuyuan replied with a worried nod.

Half an hour later—one hour before Wen Shanyuan left the camp.

“Still no sign of attack?”

With each report from the sentries, Wen Shanyuan’s composure faltered, and Tang Jiuyuan fell silent.

Tang Jiuyuan dismissed all the officers, leaving only himself and Wen Shanyuan in the tent.

Wen Shanyuan, frowning deeply, murmured, “What now? Why haven’t they attacked?”

“At this point, Yang Tingyu’s plan is useless. Chu Shanhe likely never intended to accept our surrender,” Tang Jiuyuan finally said, shaking his head. “Last time, the imperial army dared not approach because they feared what we knew. Now they can encircle us without effort. If we don’t act, we expose our lies.”

“Then let’s open the gates, pretend to fight, and have you captured as before?” Wen Shanyuan asked hurriedly.

Tang Jiuyuan fell silent before replying, “Scatter dry wood and oil around the camp. Burn it when the gates open after the time it takes to burn an incense stick. You lead eight or nine thousand men out, playing the role of battered survivors—it must look real.”

“And the rest of us?” Wen Shanyuan asked.

Tang Jiuyuan’s face darkened. After a pause, he said, “The remaining men will dig pits and hide. Whoever survives will form small groups and flee north to Yang Tingyu in the borderlands. As for me...”

Meeting Wen Shanyuan’s gaze, Tang Jiuyuan forced a bitter smile. “You take my head, and with these wounded, go to Chu Shanhe—he will certainly...”

“No!” Wen Shanyuan tried to protest, but this time Tang Jiuyuan would not relent.

Gathering his inner strength, he struck Wen Shanyuan’s right shoulder, pinning him down.

Then he shouted, “What, do you want us all to die with nothing left? Wen Shanyuan, if I die like this, I can face the Marshal with a clear conscience! Don’t stand there acting the hero with no plan—just do as I say! Do you hear me, you brat?”

Wen Shanyuan, stunned by the outburst, stood frozen.

Tang Jiuyuan took a deep breath, patted Wen Shanyuan’s shoulder, and softened his tone. “I know you can’t bear to lose a single brother, but great deeds require sacrifice. Chu Shanhe won’t believe you unless you bring my head and curse him to his face.”

“But... is there truly no other way?” Wen Shanyuan’s voice trembled. Once a bold vanguard, now he valued his old comrades above all else.

Tang Jiuyuan sneered, “Don’t get sentimental. If the positions were reversed, I’d have taken your head to surrender without hesitation.”

Wen Shanyuan bowed his head in silence.

Before he could decide, the clear ring of a drawn sword made him look up in alarm.

Tang Jiuyuan, sword in hand, placed the blade against his throat, smiling at Wen Shanyuan. “Wen, sometimes living in disgrace is more valuable than dying in glory.” And as Wen Shanyuan watched in shock, Tang Jiuyuan fell into a pool of blood.

Clang! The blade dropped to the ground—a man’s death, the fall of a leaf, all ending in sorrow.

...

Wen Shanyuan now gripped his reins tightly, his wild hair veiling his face. His body trembled, and none saw the tears that mixed with blood as they fell onto his horse’s neck.

Over twenty miles away, on a low hill, a scarred boy gazed into the distance, eyes reflecting the blaze on the horizon. He was Su Bai, newly escaped from the rebel camp.

He ought to have hurried on toward Blood River Tower, yet for some reason, he tarried on the mountainside for the length of half a stick of incense.

He knelt, bowing three times in the direction of the rebel camp.

Rising, he murmured, “Uncle Wen, Uncle Tang—it was wrong of me to suspect you. Without your help, I would never have survived.”

Su Bai had sensed something was wrong when Wen Shanyuan began playing along with his ruse, and later, when he so easily slipped out of camp, it was clear they had let him go.

Without Wen Shanyuan’s shelter these past days, he would have been caught by the imperial army. The men of Six Doors were no fools, and with Wei Mingyuan ever on his guard, how could he have recovered?

Shaking his head, Su Bai turned and looked back at the endless mountains and rivers, the sound of flowing water urging him onward.

“They died for me. I will not let their sacrifice be in vain.” Su Bai gazed up at the blazing sun, forcing his eyes wide against its glare, and declared, “I will forge my own path. No thorns will bar my way!”