Chapter 116: In Times of National Crisis, Seek Virtuous Generals

Lord Tiexin was gravely ill—so gravely that it was almost unheard of for a warrior of his rank to fall sick. Typically, those with the prowess of a Supreme Pillar General remained impervious to disease. But beset by threats both within and without, even he could no longer bear the strain. Hearing that they were nearing Jiuding City, he struggled to rise, and with the help of his attendants, he barely managed to step out of his carriage, gazing distantly toward the city.

Perhaps it was a trick of the mind, but a chill of desolation swept over him. The welcome party at the city gate—Prime Minister Shen Wangji and the palace’s Second Steward, Xiao Fuzi—were accompanied by only a dozen or so guards, deepening the sense of bleakness.

Upon catching sight of Xiao Fuzi, Lord Tiexin’s fury flared. He suddenly broke free from the grasp of two attendants and strode forward with a face darkened by rage. Without uttering a word, he raised his hand and struck Xiao Fuzi sharply across the face.

Xiao Fuzi staggered back, lowering his head timidly.

“Do you think the Plainclothes Guards are mere servants? Their duty is to gather intelligence and report swiftly; they are not warriors!” Lord Tiexin bellowed. “How dare you send them to the front lines to die? You’re no better than a traitor!”

The Plainclothes Guards were founded by Lord Tiexin himself. After more than twenty years of cultivation, they had finally achieved a certain scale. Their informants had woven a network that allowed Lord Tiexin to maintain an almost omnipresent awareness. Yet during the chaotic battles against Pan Yuanshan’s Blood Mountain Legion, the Plainclothes Guards suffered devastating losses. Of nearly a thousand men, only a little over a hundred remained, many wounded. Upon hearing this news, Lord Tiexin nearly fainted. Two decades of painstaking effort had been destroyed in an instant—a pain that pierced his very soul.

“Tiexin, you don’t understand how dire the situation was,” a gray-clad elder stepped forward cautiously from behind Xiao Fuzi. “We had no choice but to give it our all, but... we never expected Pan Yuanshan to dispatch a separate detachment. Alas...”

Shen Wangji was momentarily stunned. He had assumed the elder was one of the Plainclothes Guards. Hearing him address Lord Tiexin by name confirmed there was more to this than met the eye. Still, as it pertained to the Plainclothes Guards, Shen Wangji refrained from probing further.

“Who else could we blame?” another gray-clad elder smiled bitterly. “We are scholars of cultivation, not versed in military strategy. Had Wei Juan been here—or even Han Sanmei—Pan Yuanshan would never have succeeded so easily.”

The elder’s words rang true. Prime Minister Shen Wangji was a master of administration, and Governor Wang Fang was known for justice and strictness. But neither had commanded troops in the field. Upon learning that Pan Yuanshan’s Blood Mountain Legion was approaching, they had rushed headlong to meet the enemy—not out of incompetence, but due to lack of experience. Moreover, the urgency of the moment left no time for detailed planning. Their sole thought was to hold back Pan Yuanshan’s vast army, not to devise a meticulous battle strategy.

Even a common camp commander would have known to deploy scouts far and wide, preventing a detachment from slipping through unchallenged to strike Jiuding City.

Shen Wangji’s breath quickened. He felt a burning pain across his face. Guarding against enemy flanking attacks was among the simplest tenets of warfare—yet he had neglected it. Back at the Longteng Military Academy, he had taught such strategies; how could he himself have committed such a foolish blunder?

It was not only Shen Wangji who felt this way. Wang Fang also regarded this battle as a profound humiliation. Otherwise, he would not have launched such a furious assault against the Dayu Kingdom. Even now, Wang Fang still led new troops stationed at the border, for relations with Dayu had soured, and the frontier could not be left undefended.

“Tiexin, our Great Wei Kingdom lacks not warriors of Supreme Pillar caliber,” one of the gray-clad elders said with a sigh. “What we lack are generals who can strategize and command. Ten years to grow trees, a hundred years to nurture men. Wei Juan has grown old, Han Sanmei too. If we do not urgently seek new talent, twenty years from now, you may find yourself with none to rely upon.”

“It’s easier said than done,” the other elder shook his head. “Thousands of soldiers are easy to find, but a single general is rare. To find one who can match Wei Juan—that is no simple matter.”

Bitterer still was Lord Tiexin’s heart. After Wei Juan, there was Ye Guanhai. But Ye Guanhai was dead. Who else could he trust now?

At that moment, a rider came galloping from afar, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Great victory! Great victory on the northern front! My lord! Great victory on the northern front!”

Lord Tiexin was taken aback and turned to look. It was Qiu Xiang, the commander of the Fierce Martial Camp. Why, instead of tending to his students, had he rushed back here? Tiexin’s temper, which had lately grown increasingly irritable, flared again. He knew it was improper, but he could not restrain himself.

Soon, Qiu Xiang arrived, dismounted, and sensed the desolation hanging heavy over the camp, knowing morale was at its lowest ebb. Gathering all his strength, he shouted so every soldier could hear, “My lord! Victory on the northern front! A victory in a hundred years!”

“What victory?” Lord Tiexin snapped.

“Ye Xin led the Wolf Cavalry deep into the Great Zhao Kingdom, ambushed and beheaded the Tiger Head Corps commander Zhuang Buxiu!” Qiu Xiang raised the bundle in his hand, shouting wildly, “Here is the head of Zhuang Buxiu!”

Lord Tiexin stiffened as if turned to stone. Shen Wangji’s eyes blazed with sudden light. The palace guards who had come to welcome them stood dumbfounded at these words.

“Qiu Xiang, what... what are you saying?” Lord Tiexin could hardly believe his ears.

“Ye Xin led the Wolf Cavalry, ambushed and beheaded Zhuang Buxiu!” Qiu Xiang shouted once more with all his might.

Suddenly, a one-eyed commander stepped forward from the crowd to confront Qiu Xiang. “Sir of the Main Camp, give me the head of Zhuang Buxiu!”

This one-eyed commander was Deng Zhiguo, head of the Deng family, who had also accompanied Lord Tiexin to the northern front. He was a man of military acumen. Had he stayed behind to defend Jiuding City, Pan Yuanshan would never have succeeded so easily.

Qiu Xiang handed the bundle to Deng Zhiguo, who untied it and examined the head carefully before turning toward Lord Tiexin, holding the trophy with trembling hands.

“My lord, this is truly the head of Zhuang Buxiu. There is no mistake!”

Lord Tiexin moved like a corpse. Just as he took the head, he staggered backward, nearly falling. Fortunately, Deng Zhiguo was quick to steady him.

“Sir of the Main Camp, how could Ye Xin have slain Zhuang Buxiu? Do you know the details?” Deng Zhiguo asked Qiu Xiang.

“Why not?” Qiu Xiang, exhausted from the ride, forced himself to speak. “Though young, Ye Xin is clever and unpredictable, a master of warfare. This time...”

“How old is he? And he dares to call himself a ‘master of warfare’?” Deng Zhiguo frowned. Even Wei Juan and Ye Guanhai never dared such self-praise.

“Sir Deng, what did you just take from me? Do you need me to remind you?” Qiu Xiang retorted.

Deng Zhiguo was speechless. Shen Wangji stepped forward. “Sir of the Main Camp, how did Ye Xin do it?” Then he glanced at Deng Zhiguo. “Sir Deng, perhaps you should speak less!”

“Ye Xin led the Wolf Cavalry to capture Old Dragon Pass,” Qiu Xiang explained. “He planned to march north to assault Lingteng, forcing the Great Zhao Kingdom to divert troops and ease pressure on our lord...”

“How many men did he bring? He dares assault Lingteng?” Deng Zhiguo shook his head.

Qiu Xiang hesitated. Ye Xin had mentioned wanting to strike Lingteng, but only briefly. The rest, like easing the lord’s burden, was Qiu Xiang’s speculation. Under Deng Zhiguo’s questioning, he found no good answer.

“Zhiguo, it’s good he has such ambition!” Lord Tiexin said slowly. “Our Great Wei commands over a hundred thousand troops. Who would ever think to share my burden?!”

“Sir Deng, don’t underestimate Ye Xin!” Qiu Xiang said with displeasure. “Though unable to harness spiritual energy in his youth, he was ambitious and diligently studied military strategy, eventually mastering it. Otherwise, how could he have won the hearts of the Wolf Cavalry so swiftly? People call Ye Xin a waste, ha! If he were worthless, how could those fierce warriors willingly follow him?”

Much of Qiu Xiang’s words were conjecture, an attempt to explain Ye Xin’s abilities. Whether others believed it or not, he believed it himself.

“Sir of the Main Camp, please tell us exactly how Ye Xin did it,” Shen Wangji urged, then looked at Deng Zhiguo. “Sir Deng, perhaps you should speak less!”

“Ye Xin led the Wolf Cavalry to seize Old Dragon Pass,” Qiu Xiang continued. “He intended to march north to attack Lingteng but caught a fierce warrior there—Zhuang Shan Yuan, the grandson of Zhuang Buxiu, a renowned figure on the northern front. Ye Xin then changed plans, using Zhuang Shan Yuan as bait to lure out Zhuang Buxiu. Knowing Zhuang Buxiu’s strength and fearing the Wolf Cavalry could not defeat him outright, Ye Xin engaged in a cat-and-mouse chase. For four days and nights, he harried Zhuang Buxiu relentlessly, forcing him to ride without rest or sleep. Finally, when Zhuang Buxiu was utterly exhausted, Ye Xin struck a decisive blow and slew him.”

Under Qiu Xiang’s narrative, an image formed in the minds of all present: a brave, fearless, clever, and loyal young general. Of course, Qiu Xiang only gave a rough outline. How Ye Xin forced Zhuang Buxiu to pursue without attacking outright required their own imagination—and surely was no simple matter.

“A country in peril knows its true generals...” Shen Wangji sighed deeply.

Lord Tiexin felt his chest burning, even compelled to let out a howl to vent his frustration. Such relief! If all Great Wei’s soldiers were as formidable as Ye Xin, the petty Great Zhao Kingdom would have long since fallen beneath iron hooves! (To be continued.)