Ich denke an dich, wenn der Wind weht

Kapitel 16

"Chishu's schemes are quite effective, and coupled with the natural disasters, Gumo is in a complete mess."

“A natural disaster.” She scoffed, closed the jade box, and burned the intelligence she had read. “What kind of natural disaster is that? It’s just another man-made calamity.”

He was momentarily stunned. "Was this written in the secret report just now?"

"The timing of this is rather strange. I had my secret envoy investigate it thoroughly," Jia Ye summarized briefly. "Gu Mo originally cultivated sesame as its main crop. The climate here is suitable for its growth, resulting in abundant yields, and the quality of the sesame is superior to that of other Western Regions countries. Merchants flock here. In the past two years, many merchants from Shule have suddenly appeared, offering high prices to buy pomegranates, claiming that they can make several times the profit by selling them to the Central Plains. The people have switched to growing pomegranates and spent heavily on pomegranate seeds. When the harvest came, the buyers disappeared without a trace, and large quantities of pomegranates went to waste. Countless people have fallen into poverty and despair, and the livelihood of the entire country has deteriorated rapidly, with chaos erupting everywhere."

After speaking, she sneered. "It seems to be a matter of ordinary merchants, but it concerns the success or failure of the overall situation. Before the war even begins, you've put the enemy in a difficult position. If Chishu really does take over the reins, within a few years, Gumo will have no chance of survival."

"When did Kucha and Shule form an alliance?"

"That's what I want to know too." He watched quietly as the letter slowly turned to ashes, the flames dying down. "Several incidents have been related to Shule; it will surely become a great calamity in the future."

"It seems that the two countries have reached an agreement to jointly divide up Gumo."

"Judging from the degree of Shule's approach, that's roughly the case."

"The Prime Minister probably guessed what was going on as well."

"So what if he guessed it?" Jia Ye scoffed. "Do you think we can expect that brave but reckless general to take the initiative? If we hadn't planned for him, he would have been utterly defeated long ago."

Over the course of several days, he suppressed the urge to launch a challenge against Lang Gan, instead focusing on using the terrain to outmaneuver and delay the enemy. Otherwise, it would have been a miracle if this warlike general hadn't fallen for Chi Shu's various enticements.

"The prime minister is also powerless. Who can blame him when the maternal relatives are so powerful and the king only uses his own relatives?" He showed little sympathy. "If we hadn't come to offer our advice and encouraged them, how would Gu Mo have had the courage to start a war?" Even this seemingly foolproof war plan was only persuaded to the king by bribing the harem and eunuchs with a large sum of money. Of course, the intimidating power of the demonic sect's reputation was also added to the mix.

“Gu Mo was lucky this time, otherwise Chi Shu would have been able to ascend the throne of Kucha by stepping over their corpses.” She spread her five fingers and stared at the lines on her palm. “It’s just that he was too ambitious and provoked the Pope before he was fully grown.”

He slung his pack over his shoulder and asked in a low voice, "Should I inform Lang Gan before I leave?"

“There’s no need.” Jia Ye raised his head, his dark eyes gleaming in the flickering campfire.

"The plan has been set up; all we have to do is wrap it up."

The two, lightly armed and traveling on horseback, quietly left the camp and rode towards Kucha.

They carefully bypassed both camps, avoiding sentries and scouts; the night provided the best cover.

As dawn broke through the horizon, the two, who had been galloping all night, slowed their pace. The sky seemed to be covered with a thick layer of gray, and the sunlight was dim and yellowish, quite different from the clear skies of the past.

Jia Ye looked up and gazed for a long time, his expression growing increasingly grave. The horse seemed to sense the ominous sign as well, snorting incessantly, restless and uneasy. The strange celestial phenomenon was perplexing. He stared at it for a while, and a possibility flashed through his mind, causing his expression to change drastically.

The two exchanged a glance and, without prior arrangement, spurred their horses and galloped away.

The steed galloped with all its might, its hooves off the ground, foaming at the mouth, and finally broke into an abandoned ruin just before the great upheaval was about to occur.

A fine cloud of yellow sand rose from the distant horizon, turning the world into a dark yellow expanse.

Surrounding the ruins were dead trees, perhaps once a small oasis, now turned into a vast expanse of yellow sand. The houses were still relatively sturdy, half of them buried under the yellow sand. Horses had also been brought in, trembling incessantly amidst the terrifying spectacle, panting heavily and soaking wet. The terrifying sandstorm in the desert was gradually revealing its power.

The wind howled, whipping up clouds of sand and dust, its mournful, piercing cries like those of demons. The earth trembled, and the small house seemed unable to withstand the weight; sand kept pouring in through the entrance, soon piling up into a small heap. All around was pitch black. The two men, their backs pressed against the wall sheltered from the wind, silently waited for the storm to pass.

The wind kept blowing.

He stood up, cut a piece of wood from a collapsed corner of the roof beam in the adjacent room, chopped it into small pieces, and started a fire. The warm flames flickered a few times, and finally, light entered the room. Jia Ye pulled a thin blanket from his horse, tossed him some simple food and water, and he silently ate by the firelight. The tension of being on the brink of life and death had passed, leaving only boundless exhaustion.

After a day and a night, the howling wind gradually subsided. The sky was a clear, deep blue, without a single cloud. The surrounding sand dunes had completely changed shape, and one had to rely entirely on experience to find one's way.

One horse died, and in order to save the remaining horses, the stored food and water were used up, forcing them to turn back to replenish the water source.

The only horse in the desert.

After standing frozen for a long time, Jia Ye finally mounted the horse and put her arms around his waist.

The weight behind me was so light I could barely feel it. A cool, refreshing fragrance lingered around my nose.

So close, it felt like he could feel each other's breaths. He straightened up unconsciously, his back slightly warm.

Several days were wasted, but only a hundred miles were traveled.

The outline of a village came into view.

He rode closer, his view of Jia Ye behind him blocked, and suddenly spoke.

"There's a smell of blood ahead."

The wind carried a heavy stench of blood, and the village was unusually silent. He held his sword in one hand and cautiously approached.

Human bodies lay scattered haphazardly inside houses, on windowsills, by wells, and along roads... Looking around, there wasn't a single living person in sight.

The dried blood had turned a purplish-black color, and the tattered banners fluttered in the wind. The burned village was a scene of devastation, with piles of dead bodies everywhere.

The crude clothing, the terrified expressions, and the panic of ordinary villagers when attacked were all evident. Everywhere, one could see the horrific scenes of women with their clothes torn open, and the huge, gaping wounds revealed the ruthless massacre.

Silently leading his horse through the wreckage, he kicked a soft battle flag. The insignia of the Gu Mo Kingdom was starkly visible, burning his eyes like flames.

The small villages on the border of Kucha were inevitably affected by the war. While the Gumo army was still in force, these villages became targets for plunder.

Jia Ye's face was very pale, without any expression, and her black pupils were as dark as ink.

They started the war; that's their crime.

The unavoidable, naked presentation of sin.

There is no escape.

There was a deathly silence, broken only by the whirring of the horse beside him.

The center of the village was where the massacre was most concentrated.

A child, barely ten years old, knelt stiff as a stone amidst a pile of corpses. He was still breathing, but dazed and lifeless, like a puppet, his mind shattered by the tragedy. This face had once smiled shyly, offered flatbread and dried meat, and honestly returned any extra money.

The only person left in the entire village. He probably won't live much longer either.

He glanced at him and made a judgment. People who lose their minds like this are not uncommon in the slave camps. The sudden shock is too great, and it is difficult for them to return to normal. It often happens to newcomers who have just entered the camp.

Jia Ye walked past him, approaching the motionless child step by step.

His heart tightened and his heart pounded. He was about to tell her to stop when it was too late.

A small, white hand was raised.

The child's eyes were covered.

In the suffocatingly quiet village, a song suddenly broke out.

The clear, melodious singing voice pierced through everything.

Like spring water rinsing over jade, flowing through mountains, forests, and marshes; like fragrant grass growing beneath withered bones, blooming with swaying spring flowers; like clouds parting and mist dissipating, the sky clearing after rain; like ice melting and snow thawing, the earth returning to its former glory; like vines winding and reaching upwards, sprouting new tender shoots. Like all the ineffable and irreversible things in the world, disappearing and reincarnating, life goes on and on.

It fully expresses the joy of life and the tranquility of death.

It soothes the souls of the deceased and calms the grief of the living.

The strange melody and unfamiliar songs, with lyrics that were incomprehensible, were so heartwarming that they brought tears to my eyes.

The song echoed through the ruins, spreading in all directions.

After a long while, low sobs began, gradually growing louder.

The child, standing there in a daze, wailed and wept bitterly, large tears streaming down Jia Ye's palms and rolling into the dust. He had poured out all his pain, awakening from his dazed state.

I had never heard Jia Ye sing before. But when she closed her eyes, her singing was like a gentle hand cleansing my soul and caressing my heart.

Her long eyelashes were slightly closed, her eyes lowered. Her black hair cascaded down her cheeks, and her pale, unadorned face was as serene as a priestess.

He stared at her blankly, his thoughts completely halted.

The singing continued for a long time until the crying gradually subsided.

Jia Ye opened his eyes, his dark pupils looking behind him.

A fierce troop appeared out of nowhere, the soldiers on horseback staring blankly at the two. The young man at the head was handsome and sharp, dressed in full armor, and looked very familiar; his astonished gaze never left Jia Ye.

He quietly gripped the hilt of the sword.

The armor of the Kucha cavalry gleamed, indistinguishable even in the sunlight.

Releasing her hand from the child's eyes, Jia Ye silently observed for a moment before turning and leaving the village littered with corpses. Most people's eyes remained with her; two or three dismounted to check on the child. He glanced back from a distance, letting out an invisible sigh of relief.

gossip

After leaving the village, Jia Ye remained silent.

The only surviving child was handed over to his own people and should be safe.

The people of that village were no different from those they had killed with their own hands.

Planning on paper, meticulous calculations, in reality, turned into lives lost and villages destroyed.

Had they not intervened, a similar scenario might have unfolded in Gumo. Chishu, too, would show no mercy to his enemies. But such a reason cannot atone for his actions.

For the sake of cold-blooded profits, innocent people are allowed to bleed.

He wanted to survive in the clutches of the devil, but he turned himself into a devil.

Having traveled day and night to reach Kucha, a feeling of self-loathing and self-loathing lingered, permeating every nerve.

Jia Ye secretly summoned the demonic cult's spies stationed in Kucha and revealed the details of the plot.

The situation gradually shifted in the direction they had anticipated.

Within three days, rumors spread that Prince Chishu had colluded with the Gumo people in order to seize the throne.

Within five days, rumors circulated that there were ulterior motives behind Gu Mo's unconventional attack and incompetent defeat.

Within seven days, a secret was revealed in the royal court: a close advisor who was supervising the battle at the front lines sent back a secret letter by fast horse revealing that Chishu and Gumo were colluding.

Within ten days, the King of Kucha ordered the search of the private residence of the Left Minister who had been assassinated, and found irrefutable evidence of his dealings with Gumo.

On the 12th, Chishu returned to his country, where he was greeted by the people's scorn and the King of Kucha's fury.

The brilliant and impressive record was seen as a premeditated conspiracy.

People seem to have forgotten his past achievements and are whispering among themselves that he had his maternal uncle collude with Gu Mo to plot to seize the throne so as to monopolize military power and make alliances on the battlefield.

Within days, the once highly popular prince was utterly disgraced and left speechless.

The scales of public opinion tipped entirely in favor of his brother, the youngest son born to his concubine.

Jia Ye sipped her tea.

Listening to the commoners in the teahouses vehemently criticizing Chishu, the marketplace was filled with the glee of anticipating the king's severe punishment of the prince.

“Shuying, look.” Her voice remained calm.