Consultor de vida de la dinastía Song del Sur

Capítulo 104

Xiao Zheng went straight for Zhao Yingcheng, his eyes cold and chilling. His spear technique was exquisite; with a slight flick of his wrist, layers of light and shadow fell like pear blossoms. In just a moment, all the traitors beside Zhao Yingcheng lay dead on their horses.

Their attacks were incredibly accurate.

Zhao Yingcheng was furious and picked up his gleaming spear to fight fiercely with him.

Agarwood leaves drifted down from the sky, mingling with the yellow dust, fluttering like feathers, exceptionally delicate and dazzling. With a whoosh, Xiao Zheng's silver spear pierced through the leaves, its cold light undiminished, aiming precisely for Zhao Yingcheng's throat.

Just as two sandalwood leaves drifted by, Xiao Zheng's face loomed closer like a ghost, cold as ice. Zhao Yingcheng dodged hastily, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow to his neck, but felt a sharp pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw the cold tip of the spear pierce his right lung.

The blood, thin as a thread, flowed continuously down the gun barrel.

Xiao Zheng smiled coldly, exerted force in his wrist, and pulled out the silver spear with a backhand. Zhao Yingcheng hissed in pain, his hand gripping Xiao Zheng's spear tightly as if he were in unbearable agony. Blood dripped from his left hand, and he was powerless to hold onto the silver spear that was being pulled out of the blood hole, watching helplessly as it left his body again.

Blood splattered out in a spray, and Zhao Yingcheng fell backward.

The scorching sunlight beat down on his eyes, while the lush green agarwood leaves spun leisurely, once again obscuring his vision.

Amidst the chaos, Xiao Zheng remained expressionless. He raised his spear, its sharp point piercing the man lying on the ground. Blood splattered from the gleaming silver shaft as it plunged into Zhao Yingcheng's chest with a soft thud.

"Yang Wan, the pain Yang Chao owes you, Zhao Yingcheng will repay with his own flesh and bones." Looking up at the sky, Zhao Yingcheng inexplicably recalled this blood-soaked vow, and couldn't help but smile softly before quietly closing his eyes.

The situation suddenly changed. The Song army commander was first stabbed off his horse and then his body was taken away. The Zhao soldiers were heartbroken and fought desperately, their blood splattering three feet of yellow dust.

At the hour of Si (9-11 AM), after several rounds of fierce fighting, the Liao and Song sides eliminated the remaining Iron Lion Regiment, and added 50,000 innocent light cavalry souls at Qigou Pass. It is said that the shouts at that time shook the valleys, the blood stained the nine heavens, and the towering sand barrier rose from the ground, but the figure in green was nowhere to be seen.

An hour later, on a hill thirty miles outside Qigou Pass.

Qiu Ye stood atop the highest point, his white robes billowing in the wind like winter plum blossoms in the cold, his expression cold and devoid of any warmth. He looked up at the sky, pursed his lips, and let out a whistle. A black-winged falcon with golden leg rings fluttered down.

The eagle perched on his arm, the lacquer still on its powerful talons.

Qiu Yeyi's eyes turned cold. The letter remained unopened, proving that the falcon had returned empty-handed once again.

More than a month has passed since Leng Shuangcheng left the Central Plains, and she has vanished like a bubble in the vast sea of people. He had personally helped her put on a water-repellent garment so that it would be easier to contact her in the future, but when news of the three battles in the Central Plains arrived, following the battles of Wufang and Qixing, someone devised a clever plan to pacify Baishi Mountain and annihilate all the remaining forces of Dongying. After this, there has been no further news.

Knowing her as well as himself, he was certain that the person acting in secrecy was Leng Shuangcheng, the one who had completely lost contact with him during the Siege of Baishi.

Qiu Ye coldly tossed the falcon into the air, his dark pupils gleaming with a frosty light. Before he could turn around, a series of hurried footsteps sounded behind him, interspersed with a few heavy breaths.

Without turning around, one could tell the man was severely injured. He coldly stopped him, his voice sharp and stern: "What happened?"

With a thud, the person behind him knelt down on both knees, wailing incessantly, "This humble general, Zhao Fan, has come to await Young Master Xue's orders in accordance with the Crown Prince's dying wish!"

Qiu Yeyi suddenly turned around, staring coldly at Zhao Fan: "Last will?"

"Reporting to Young Master Xue," Zhao Fan said loudly, wiping away the blood and tears on his face, "An hour ago, the young master led 20,000 elite troops in a bloody battle against the Liao army. After killing 30,000 enemy soldiers, the entire camp was wiped out due to being outnumbered. The young master himself was also killed by Marquis Fei Su with two spear thrusts..." At the end, he just bit his lip tightly and could not utter another word.

Qiu Yeyi swayed as he staggered two steps, then grabbed Zhao Fan by the collar and sneered, "Your young master is dead, what use is a piece of trash like you?"

Tears welled in Zhao Fan's eyes. He closed them and did not struggle. With a loud bang, Qiu Yeyi's robes burst open like angry chrysanthemums, his sleeves drooping limply. The fierce true energy sent Zhao Fan flying several feet away.

Zhao Fan collapsed to the ground in agony, enduring the excruciating pain without uttering a sound. Qiu Ye approached step by step with her sword, leaving several sharp footprints on the jagged rocks: "I'll spare your life for now. Tell me in detail what happened during the battle, and don't omit a single word or action of the young master."

Zhao Fan coughed up a mouthful of blood and slowly began to speak: "Since last night, the young master has been extremely calm. I had some bad feelings about him. Today, before the battle, I disregarded the young master's orders and secretly ran down the Qigou Pass alone... During the melee, I couldn't charge in to get close to the young master, so I could only watch anxiously from the outside... Xiao Zheng stabbed the young master first. The young master's left hand fell, and he could have grabbed Xiao Zheng's spear and seized the opportunity to thrust back. But for some reason, the young master seemed to have exhausted his strength. Not only did he fail to stabilize his injury, but he was also pulled off his horse by Xiao Zheng, and then pierced through the heart by another spear..."

Zhao Fan closed his eyes tightly, leaning back on the loess hillside, trembling, and then intermittently added some details about what had happened last night.

"Where is the young master? I'm asking you, where is his body!" Qiu Yeyi's eyes were bloodshot, her body swaying uncontrollably, as she coldly demanded, tearing through the chaotic mountain wind, "I want to see him alive or dead."

"Xiao Zheng lifted up the prince's body and carried him away first."

The July wind was scorching and fiery, making one's cheeks sting slightly. Autumn leaves, leaning against the sword, stood listlessly in the wind for a long time, their clothes fluttering on their own, as if they had lost their support and were left only as beautiful empty garments.

"Zhao Yingcheng, you are truly foolish!" He slumped down and sat on a rock, coldly saying, "Although the odds were stacked against us in this battle, if you hadn't been so determined to make my plans happen, who could have killed you so easily with just two shots? Is there nothing that you cherish? Do I really need you to grant my wish?" He looked at the distant mountains, murmured softly, and then fell silent, sitting there quietly for a long time, like a sculpture carved from stone, motionless.

The sky is clear and the breeze is gentle.

(To be continued...)

Author's Note: Si Mu will only say one thing: allow me to finish writing what I need to write. If you support Wu Fang, please continue. If you have any complaints, thank you for your previous support. I remember all the readers' comments and names. If you've followed this far and don't want to read anymore, please leave. Si Mu will thank all the readers who leave. As a token of gratitude, I will write some other short stories to repay your kindness.

Because I was determined to write short stories, I made sure to provide all the necessary explanations and foreshadowing. I sincerely apologize if readers are not used to a slower pace.

13. New City

At noon that day, the Liao army, having won a great victory, continued its advance and stationed itself southeast of Qigou Pass.

Although the new city is called "new," the sandstorms reveal only its desolate and ancient atmosphere. The Baigou River roars like a dragon, rushing and rolling over the rocky corners of the walls.

A black figure stood imposingly atop the city wall. Yelü Bao, clad in silver armor, approached with a fierce air, raising his hand in a gesture of respect: "Thanks to the great assistance of Marquis Fei Su, our army achieved a great victory."

Facing the yellow sand and the red sun, Xiao Zheng's handsome face was indifferent, and a cold smile curled his lips.

Yelü Bao looked at the motionless profile and said loudly, "Congratulations to the Marquis on capturing and killing the Song army's commander-in-chief. This battle deserves a great reward. After returning to the capital, I will inform the King, and the Marquis will surely be rewarded with a thousand households."

Xiao Zheng turned around, nodded without changing his expression, and replied in a slightly cold voice, "Thank you for your trouble, General." Yelü Bao returned the greeting, and the two then parted ways, walking away from each other.

Xiao Zheng descended the steps, his black armor contrasting sharply with the withered city walls, like a sudden, cold thorn. Reaching the camp tent, a subordinate lightly pressed his right hand to his left shoulder and bowed respectfully: "Greetings, Lord Marquis."

This posture retains the traditional way of bowing of the Han-Qiang mixed-race descendants, and carries the same stubbornness as Xiao Zheng's wife. However, he is Xiao Zheng's confidant, and Xiao Zheng left him here to look after his wife, precisely because he trusted him so much.

Xiao Zheng looked at the man and said coldly, "An Kai, no need for formalities. When I went to battle today, was Jian Cang well-behaved?"

"Reporting to the Marquis, the Princess Consort did not leave her tent all day. I checked on her several times during that time, and she was always looking at the corner of the tent with clover in her eyes. Everything else was fine."

After listening, Xiao Zheng stretched out two fingers to lift a corner of the curtain and looked inside: "It's rare to see someone so well-behaved. It seems they've learned their lesson." He took a few steps away, then suddenly stopped, put his hands behind his back, and gazed at the distant mountains, as if waiting for something.

An Kai lowered his eyelids and sighed inwardly.

The clanging of shackles echoed from inside the tent, followed by a trembling female voice: "Xiao Zheng! You devil, how long are you going to keep me locked up? You even take me with you on military campaigns, aren't you afraid of bringing bad luck upon yourself?"

Xiao Zheng turned around, a faint sneer playing on his lips. His tall, slender figure appeared on the tent flap, but after only two steps towards the rolled-up curtain, the area inside immediately fell silent. He casually flickered his lips, his voice reserved and cold: "Why is my beloved consort in such a hurry? I suppose the closer we get to the homeland of the Han people, the more unable to suppress our kinship? Unfortunately, I have some wonderful news for you: the King of Liao, knowing of your expertise in civil engineering, has granted my permission to take you on this military journey..."

The clanging of shackles echoed continuously from inside, a sign of indignation.

Xiao Zheng's smile deepened, blossoming like a flower. He pressed his hand to his chest, bowed slightly, and politely greeted the tent: "My dear wife, you should accompany your husband on his campaigns. We will never be apart for the rest of our lives."

Silence fell; there was no sound from within.

Xiao Zheng raised his head, his face as white as jade, now as cold as ice. He glanced at An Kai, and the two left the tent one after the other, reaching a secluded corner. After scanning the surroundings and confirming that no one could eavesdrop, Xiao Zheng coldly instructed, "Remember what I said, and don't confuse the steps. Zhao Yingcheng's body was just thrown into my main tent, and Jian Cang indeed treated and bandaged his wounds after seeing it. Later, you dismiss the guards outside the tent and deliberately relax your guard. Jian Cang is thinking of the Han land and wants to give Zhao Yingcheng a proper burial, so he will definitely take the body and escape. Once Jian Cang escapes, go to Yelü Bao's tent and report this to me, and I will then lead men to pursue them."

An Kai, somewhat puzzled, asked, "Why is Your Excellency going to such lengths?"

Xiao Zheng smiled coldly: "Yelü Bao keeps calling himself the commander-in-chief and thanking me for leading the Iron Lion Cavalry to crush the Song army. Although his words are polite, his intention to expel me is too obvious. Now the conditions are ripe. The Song army has lost two great generals and is in complete disarray. Yelü will definitely drive straight in and march south to wash away the shame of Gujing two years ago. He has already petitioned the Liao King many times to ask me to hand over the military power of the Iron Lion Regiment. If I don't arrange a good opportunity this time, how can I show that I am leaving this place in a natural way?"

"Yes, sir..."

Xiao Zheng looked at An Kai's questioning gaze and said something surprising: "Rumor has it that Qiu Yeyijian and Zhao Yingcheng are cunning and scheming. I have never really believed that the two of them would fall into the trap. So instead of guessing here, it is better to leave. If I guess right, Yelü will definitely die at their hands... For me, there will be no loss at all."

An Kai broke out in a cold sweat, bowed, and said, "Your Excellency's method is brilliant. After eliminating Yelü's power, the Liao King will have no choice but to rely on Your Excellency even more in court affairs, and our Xiao clan will finally have a chance to rise..."

Xiao Zheng waved his hand and said coldly, "Say no more. Go."

The sky was dark, the setting sun seemed to weep blood, and the northern frontier was covered in a vast expanse of yellow sand, rising like a curtain of sand to the sky.

Qiu Ye, leaning on his sword, stood silently at the bottom of the canyon, facing the mountains, for four hours. The Snow Shadow Knight, clad in gleaming silver, held the reins and rode his horse, like white feathers rising from the tide, densely covering the canyon.

The entire Snow Shadow Camp was like a natural gem, with people and horses standing as one. For several hours, they stood silently, and apart from the gentle swaying of horse tails and the soft neighing of horses, the air was solemn and heavy.

The war situation was clear. Qiu Yeyi had already sent word: Zhao Yingcheng, son of the Northern Chancellor, had died on the battlefield, his hot blood a sacrifice for the Snow Shadow Camp. Tonight's final battle was crucial to pacifying the Yan-Yun war. The Liao side believed that the main force of the Song army had been wiped out and that there was currently no commander-in-chief to oversee the battle. They drove their army into the emptied ancient and new cities, waiting to regroup before taking down the last few cities in one fell swoop.

This place is thirty miles from the new city. After an hour's march, it is the time when the Liao people will be off duty and resting, and everything will be quiet. The timing is just right.

The recent torrential rains have caused the Baigou River to rise to its banks, blocking the retreat route from Xincheng to Mozhou. Tonight, after the riders cross the river and ambush us, Commander Xue Gongzi will order the pontoon bridge chains to be cut, leaving us with nowhere to retreat and forcing us to fight to the death.

It is said that a desperate army is bound to win, and Young Master Xue clearly knows this principle.

As the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains, shadows, like clouds, enveloped the ground.

Qiu Yeyi, seeing that it was getting dark, turned to face the solemn-faced cavalry and said with all her might, "This battle is extremely crucial; victory is the only option." After a cold pause, she made two more promises, each word resounding: "His Majesty has decreed that whoever kills Yelü will be granted the imperial surname and the rank of a first-grade official. You are all wise men and know what to do; I need not say more."

With a final wave of his white sleeve, black and gold cloud-patterned stripes swept across the chaotic air, leaving a trail of afterimages: "The time has come, let's depart."

It was past midnight, but the sandstorm showed no signs of abating. The new city, which had been bustling all day, had fallen completely silent after dark, as if it had entered a deep sleep.

Long dragons of torches shot into the sky with a whooshing sound, resembling a continuous mountain range. At this moment, the wind howled, and as soon as the torches were thrown, flames ignited far and near, high and low.

The Liao army camp was filled with muffled groans, and a disturbance gradually arose in the new city.

Early on, the city's garrison soldiers reported that a fire had broken out. Yelü Bao put on his armor and hurriedly gave the order: "Pass on my command, the Iron Lion Cavalry assemble in the central courtyard. Hold your ground and do not move. This fire is not clearly visible, so do not panic."

Outside the tent, figures moved about, shouts echoing. Yelü Bao threw back the tent flap and strode out, grabbing his broadsword and leaping onto his horse: "Come with me to the main gate to investigate!"

Dozens of warhorses followed, neighing. Wherever their hooves pounded, sparks flew from the fire. Soldiers shouted for help to put out the fire. Accompanied by the chaotic sound of hooves, the new city was like a nine-section whip. Wherever the flames engulfed, sections of it exploded with loud bangs.

Yelü Bao pressed down on his horse, using the momentum to leap onto the main city gate. He steadied himself outside the wall and demanded, "What's going on? Report back immediately!"

"Reporting to the commander, a group of black-clad guards, numbering over a hundred, rose up at Hai Shi (9-11 PM). They were nimble and carried torches as they scaled the South Gate and stood on the city wall, throwing torches everywhere. We shot and killed them all."

"Aren't they afraid of their lives?" Yelü Bao pondered for a moment and said, "It seems they are a group of suicide soldiers."

"Report!" A junior officer in yellow robes rushed in from the gatehouse, his voice drawn out, and knelt down before Yelü with a thud: "Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, the North Gate is on fire!"

Yelü Bao's face turned cold. Before he could give any orders, another guard rushed over and shouted, "Report! Fire has broken out at the West Gate!"

Now only the east gate remained untouched. Yelü Baoju looked around and saw flames shooting into the sky from three sides of the new city. Although the entire city had not been burned down, the east wind blew and flames leaped several feet high from the fire. He could see the tip of the flames even from his high vantage point.

Outside the city, darkness enveloped everything, and there was no sound, as if a leopard was lurking in the shadows, ready to hunt.

Should they continue to endure the relentless fire attacks, or open the city gates wide and welcome them in? Yelü Bao was full of confidence and quickly made his decision: "No matter who comes! Open the city gates! Meet the enemy!"

The new city was bathed in a red glow, while heavily armored Iron Lion riders, gleaming with silver light, galloped along at breakneck speed, their armor whirring and scraping against each other. Soon, the city was left behind by the moving phalanx of riders.

The thunderous roar of hooves thundered towards the banks of the Baigou River. As the cavalry drew closer, the occasional thunderous roar of the river could be heard through the gaps in the hooves. Yelü Baoyi pulled on the reins, abruptly stopped, and raised his right hand, which held a sword: "Halt!"

The soldiers steadied their horses and, by the light of the torches, were able to see the road ahead.

In the darkness, tens of thousands of armored figures stood silently, their white horses mounted and bridles, their stances as steady as mountains. The knights' eyes were cold and menacing. They were arranged in a fan shape, and through their full-length armor, the resentment in their eyes was earth-shattering.

The Ghostly Army, Snow Shadow Camp.

A chill ran down Yelü Bao's spine. Looking at the gleaming white figures lining the riverbank, he suddenly understood what was happening. Turning to glance at the cavalry behind him, Yelü Bao gritted his teeth and roared, "Charge! Anyone who retreats will be executed!"

In an instant, the two fierce armies clashed, locked in a chaotic battle. Men shouted and horses neighed.

The Snow Shadow Camp charged in swiftly, their horses powerful and agile. The silver-clad knights, like snow leopards, tore through the ranks, widening the gaps in their formation. Yelü Bao charged left and right, his broadsword sweeping across the surging crowd. After a brief clash, seeing the Iron Lion Knights, less agile than the Snow Shadows, being dragged clumsily to the ground, his anxiety grew. Amidst the chaos, he shouted, "Left! Go around!"

Both sides were hills, rising high like mounds of earth. Just as Yelü's army was turning around in disarray, a series of resounding shouts rang out from both sides, wave after wave of sound. Yelü Bao looked closely and realized that cavalry in gleaming silver uniforms were charging down from both sides, their momentum no less than that of the Qiantang River tidal bore.

In a short while, the fierce iron lion was surrounded by the agile snow leopard in a triangular formation. The snow-white figures were like ants gnawing at bones, slowly nibbling away at the lion.