Chapter 286: General's White Hair and Conscript's Tears

Chapter 286: The General’s White Hair, the Soldier’s Tears

No sooner had Sanniang led her group away than Yue Hongling came galloping up on her horse. It was as if Sanniang had sensed the distant hoofbeats in advance, timing her departure so perfectly.

Gazing at the distant figures, Yue Hongling asked Zhao Changhe in surprise: “Who are those people? Your helpers in killing Wubalu?”

“Yeah.” Zhao Changhe thought to himself that Sanniang likely didn’t want Yue Hongling to know her true strength, hence her precise timing in leaving. Especially if the identity of the Black Tortoise were to become known to all under heaven, Sanniang would probably fly into a rage.

So he didn’t expose her secret, merely saying: “A group of like-minded companions, including Han Wubing.”

Yue Hongling misunderstood: “No wonder it was so easy—so there was a whole crowd. From the Chivalrous Camp?”

“Mm-hmm.” Zhao Changhe asked: “How did it go on your end? Any injuries?”

“We didn’t actually fight.” Yue Hongling’s expression turned serious: “Chili has already broken through the Secret Treasury. His true strength now far exceeds his rank of sixty-sixth on the Human Roll. Next time you meet him, never underestimate him—better to flee at first sight, the farther the better.”

Zhao Changhe laughed: “Isn’t that why I have you by my side?”

Yue Hongling tilted her head and looked at him for a moment, then suddenly said: “Hey, do you really want to stay with me forever?”

Zhao Changhe was taken aback: “What do you mean by that? Are you thinking of parting ways with me?”

“I can’t bear to.” Yue Hongling sighed. “But from a martial arts perspective, whether for you or for me, separation would actually be more beneficial.”

Zhao Changhe pressed his lips together, knowing in his heart that she was right.

Especially since Hongling was stronger than him… If he always stayed by her side, once a dependency took root, it would be truly difficult to make any further progress.

Yue Hongling asked: “After this battle, where do you plan to go?”

Zhao Changhe thought for a moment, then countered: “What about you?”

“I might head to the southwest, to visit the Bashan Sword Hut and look into the Gu affairs of Miao territory. The ends of the earth, north and south—I need to roam them all.”

It seemed Yue Hongling had a very clear plan for her own path. Such a wandering female knight rarely let her heart settle in one place.

Strictly speaking, though he had won her, perhaps she could not yet be said to have “returned her heart,” for her heart belonged to the horizon.

He didn’t know when she might grow weary and want a home.

But clearly, that time had not yet come—after all, her man was hardly a settled sort either.

Neither of them had a home; where could they tarry?

In truth, Zhao Changhe felt he could also go to the southwest. For instance, he had always wanted to go to Mount Wu to find Sect Leader Xue. If he reached Mount Wu, Bashan wouldn’t be too far away. In broad terms, they might even be traveling the same route. Then he could let Yue Hongling give Sect Leader Xue another beating—just thinking about it was amusing.

But on second thought, beating up Sect Leader Xue wasn’t the top priority. He did have more important plans. For example, his next step should be to find the so-called Blood Ginseng mentioned by the gold leaf, to lay the foundation for the “Blood Raksha Body.” Where to go should follow the clues of the Blood Ginseng, not be decided arbitrarily—otherwise, it would be a pure waste of time.

He had forgotten to ask Sanniang about this earlier. With her vast experience, she might have had some leads.

Besides, he should try to contact Ji Chengkong to see if there was anything to trade with the Thief Saint, and learn some techniques for grasping and retrieving. Being able to use the storage ring was very important!

Thinking this over, he smiled and said: “Alright. I need to go find something on my own. Who knows—maybe fate will bring us together again. As I search, I might just wander my way back to your side.”

Yue Hongling found this quite amusing: “The world is so vast. If you don’t deliberately head southwest, but just happen to stumble upon my path while searching for something, then I…”

Zhao Changhe blinked: “Then what?”

Yue Hongling’s cheeks flushed slightly. She bit her lower lip and turned her head away: “Then I’ll play along with that position you’ve always wanted.”

Zhao Changhe laughed heartily: “I have confidence. Just wait, my lady knight.”

Yue Hongling chided: “Now your head is full of nothing but that.”

Who had brought it up first… Zhao Changhe didn’t call her out on it. He laughed and said: “Come on. At least for now, you and I still ride side by side, giving Temür a little taste of Central Plains shock.”

With that, he spurred his horse. The Snow-Treading Dark Steed dashed forward gleefully: “Let’s see if your Red Hare is faster, or my Dark Steed is stronger!”

Seeing his carefree demeanor, the tangled reluctance in Yue Hongling’s heart also dissolved. She became free-spirited as well, cracking her whip: “Hyah!”

…

Again, the setting sun. The sun sinking in the west, the melancholy sound of Qiang flutes, frost covering the ground.

Wild geese flew past the mountains, over the pass, heading south toward Hengyang.

Winter had come…

But the people here had long forgotten when they last returned home—some would never return home at all.

Huangfu Yongxian stood atop the city wall, gazing at the endless corpses both above and below the pass. He could no longer tell which were enemies and which were his own.

A section of the wall had half-collapsed. Soldiers were doing their best to repair it, but Huangfu Yongxian’s experience told him clearly: they wouldn’t finish tonight. Tomorrow at dawn, the Hu would surely launch a fierce assault on this breach. Whether they could hold depended on the moment.

The soldiers around him were exhausted, their faces caked with blood and grime that hadn’t been washed in who knows how long.

Washing was out of the question—they barely had time to sleep.

Earlier, the death of Helei had thrown the War Lion Tribe into chaos, and they hadn’t joined the assault. Without that massive clan, Temür’s offensive had slowed somewhat. The main struggle between the two sides remained over food supplies.

Winter was near; the grasslands lacked grain, which was the biggest factor driving this assault.

But Huangfu Yongxian helplessly realized that, after all the maneuvering, the enemy’s food supplies were no worse than his own.

His own grain rations were short and shaved at every level. By the time they reached Yanmen, there wasn’t enough to support tens of thousands of troops.

Meanwhile, large quantities of grain were being smuggled out of the pass, scattered to the various tribes in the rear of the grasslands.

Huangfu Yongxian had sent men disguised as bandits to intercept supplies from outside the pass and bring them inside, using this “windfall” to make up for his army’s shortages. It barely kept things going. But on the larger scale, it was meaningless. The Hu had enough military grain; they couldn’t be starved out. Instead, his own side was on the verge of collapse.

Because the numbers were not on the same scale.

The Hu could rotate their attacks, but his side couldn’t even rotate their rest. Every man was utterly spent.

In the past, the martial artists of the Chivalrous Camp rarely participated directly in battles; they went behind enemy lines to cause trouble. But ever since Zhao Changhe rescued six of them last time, fewer and fewer went out. They all honestly came to help the army. Experts like Cui Yuanyong and Situ Xiao were worth a hundred men each, serving as spearheads with unmatched bravery, boosting morale considerably—but still, it wasn’t enough.

In a siege involving hundreds of thousands, their role was too small.

For now, they could barely hold on. But word had it that the War Lion Tribe had rallied again. Once they charged in, all would be lost.

His daughter often said: Rebel. What was the point of serving such a fatuous ruler, such a court? How many of our family had died? What meaning did it have?

Huangfu Yongxian turned his head and looked around. The soldiers, seeing the old general’s gaze, forced themselves to stand tall, showing him they had not lost their fighting spirit.

Huangfu Yongxian smiled faintly.

Whether they surrendered or rebelled, the soul of this army would be lost. And his own soul would be lost too.

Better to die.

“General,” a deputy finally said. “It’s late. You are advanced in years. Why not go back and rest? We’ll keep an eye on the repairs.”

The old general smiled freely: “I am the strongest among you. How can I be the first to sleep?”

“General…”

“Rest assured. As long as I, the commander, have not died, Yanmen Pass will stand.”

The old general cradled his helmet in his arms. The north wind blew, lifting his white hair, like frost in this winter night.

The soldiers wanted to believe in the old general’s encouraging words.

But he was not yet sixty, and already his hair was completely white. If he kept draining his heart and spirit like this, would Yanmen still have a general?

Unbeknownst to them, the stars and moon gradually faded.

From within the prefecture beyond the pass came the crow of a rooster. The east began to show a fish-belly white, and a few rays of morning glow painted the sky’s edge—beautiful.

“Woo—woo—”

The bugle sounded, the ground trembled faintly, and a torrent that blotted out the sky surged from afar, pressing straight toward the pass.

The torrent stretched endlessly, vast and boundless; even from a distance, it brought a suffocating pressure.

Huangfu Yongxian glanced at the collapsed section of the wall—repairing it was essentially meaningless.