The night was deep, and the earth was eerily silent. The night sky was devoid of even a single star.
This place used to be prosperous, with villages scattered across thousands of acres of fertile fields. But due to the Jurchen people's invasion, the villagers fled, and the hope of a stable spring cultivation this year seemed impossible once again.
Footsteps sounded on the ground, as if someone was frantically running. The sound grew clearer, accompanied by occasional cries of pain from falling.
Walking at night without a torch shows a fear of being seen.
In the starless, pitch-black night, it was almost impossible to discern direction. The footsteps stumbled forward until a sharp whistling sound pierced the air.
With a whoosh, an arrow shot into the ground, landing right in front of the footsteps.
Someone shooting arrows in the middle of the night in the wilderness? Truly frightening.
The running person shouted.
"Is it the camp of Lord Zong of the Ansu Army? I am a scout of Uncle Qinghe."
The opposite side was silent for a moment, with faint shadows flickering.
Moments later, seven people rushed into a camp, escorting a man covered in blood.
This was not a small camp; bonfires were everywhere, and the flags fluttered in the air, exuding an atmosphere of menacing awe.
The main tent was equally bustling.
Over ten generals were gathered together, passionately arguing about something.
"Report, it's from Lord Bo's..."
Before the soldier could finish reporting, the escorted man burst into curses.
"What the hell are you still doing here?"
"We've been waiting for your reinforcements for three days."
"We thought the Jurchen people had intercepted you."
"Turns out you're camping here!"
"Do you disregard Lord Bo's order to mobilize?"
"Delaying will cost heads!"
This scout held a lower position than anyone present, yet he cursed vehemently, and the generals all wore complex expressions without a single rebuttal.
"We were just about to send someone to see Lord Bo," Lord Zong, who had been silent at the front, spoke up, his face grim. "Three units have deserted."
......
.......
"Deserted?"
Uncle Qinghe, sitting on a broken, fallen pillar, turned to look at the soldier kneeling before him.
He knew the hardships of battle, understanding that not every soldier was terribly brave; there were deserters in every large-scale battle. He recalled once mobilizing four thousand men, only to have barely three thousand reach the battlefield, with the rest disappearing.
As for those deserters, if caught, they were caught; if not, so be it. There weren't enough hands or energy to pursue them.
"How many ran?" he asked.
The soldier lifted his head, face pale.
"Ten thousand from the east route," he said.
Uncle Qinghe's face was astonished, and the generals on either side couldn't help but curse.
"Damn, you call that desertion?" they shouted.
This was clearly an entire army abandoning ship; a refusal to assist.
"The east route," Uncle Qinghe said, looking at the soldier, "what about the other two routes?"
The soldier hung his head.
"Another twenty thousand from the west route," he stammered, "another twenty thousand from the south route."
The generals on both sides kicked the loose rocks on the ground away.
"Out of the three routes totaling one hundred thousand reinforcements, half are missing!"
"Forget reinforcement!"
"This is a march to death!"
Indeed, that was why reinforcements had halted; no one dared to follow Uncle Qinghe's order to attack the Jurchen people anymore.
After enduring for more than ten days, this was the outcome, and the faces of the generals turned green.
"Since when have the northern lands' government soldiers become such cowards?"
Uncle Qinghe appeared calm, even smiling slightly.
"No, those men are not cowards," he said. "They just have other orders to follow."
Other orders?
The other generals immediately realized.
"Duke of Chengguo!"
Indeed, only the Duke of Chengguo could command the northern lands' soldiers with such audacity.
"Such treachery!"
"The Duke of Chengguo wants us doomed!"
"So vicious!"
They shouted angrily, but a general couldn't help but remind everyone to keep their voices down, lest the news spread.
Currently, the soldiers remained spirited amidst the Jurchen people's siege, mainly because of the anticipated arrival of reinforcements.
If they found out half the reinforcements were missing, morale would likely plummet.
"And what about the reinforcements from Suning Pass?" a general asked.
"Don't forget the Duke of Chengguo's confidants are also at Suning Pass," other generals said angrily.
This naturally referred to the Qingshan Army.
"But that's less than ten thousand," that general said. "The rest are our troops, adding up to about fifty thousand."
If so, with proper planning, they could still fight a battle.
The expression of the generals eased slightly, but the next moment, someone frowned again.
"Something's wrong; the garrison at Suning Pass should've arrived by now," he said, looking at the sentry. "Have you seen them?"
The sentry lifted his head, face pale, and shook it.
A bad thought emerged.
The hearts of the generals sank instantly, and Uncle Qinghe's expression also subtly changed.
........
.......
On the main road, soldiers as far as the eye could see were rushing forward.
It couldn't quite be called rushing; leading with flags, followed by the central army guard, then the cavalry, and closely behind, one supply cart after another.
Unlike other troops' marches, the supply carts here were at the front, seemingly filled with materials, leaving deep tracks on the road.
Then came the soldiers jogging on foot, aligned standards and flags, well-organized, each step uniform, appearing powerful and intimidating at a glance.
As for the soldiers at the rear, although they marched in a generally aligned formation, they seemed to lack some vigor, possibly because of fewer supply carts or less orderly marching. But overall, under the leadership of the front formation, the soldiers did not lack spirit, with helmets and armor they moved not sluggishly.
A few soldiers on horseback sped forward from the back. Upon seeing their attire, the marching soldiers couldn't help but glance, watching as their generals headed straight towards the Qingshan Army's fluttering flag.
"Miss Zhao!"
"Miss Zhao! Stop!"
Several generals shouted urgently, faces slightly stern.
Zhao Hanqing did not rein in her horse, and Xia Yong, Yang Jing, and others looked at them.
"You cannot stop randomly while marching," she said.
Randomly indeed!
"Miss Zhao, this direction is wrong," a general said hoarsely.
"Right, aren't we supposed to go to Puyin?" another general said anxiously, "Why are we heading south?"
Zhao Hanqing looked at them.
"We're not going to Puyin," she said, "We're heading south."
The generals widened their eyes.
"Why?" they asked in unison, "The fire token order from Lord Bo was for us to go to Puyin."
"Oh, I think going south is the correct move," Zhao Hanqing said straightforwardly.
She thinks?
The generals were stunned, looking at this girl of sixteen or seventeen, then at each other.
They were all in their forties, having fought on the battlefield for half their lives.
Why didn't they think so?
No, no, the key is that she is disobeying Lord Bo's military order.
"How is this disobedience? Isn't there a saying, 'a general in the field is not bound by orders'?" Zhao Hanqing said.
It seems like the phrase wasn't exactly that?
The generals were taken aback.
"The battlefield situation changes, and Lord Bo's side is surrounded, making his observations not as thorough," Zhao Hanqing continued, "Naturally, I can adapt on the fly. I'm leading the soldiers to kill the enemy, not to die in vain."
It seems that makes sense, the generals exchanged glances.
But...
"Of course, you have the right to choose," Zhao Hanqing said, "Trust my judgment and follow me, or adhere to Lord Bo's military orders. I won't force you."
Her judgment, trust or not trust?
The expressions of the generals turned complex.
She is leading the soldiers to kill the enemy, not to die in vain.
The last two confrontations with the Jurchen people indeed proved this. The Qingshan Army's marching and formations have truly benefited everyone.
And of course, there are those crucial supply carts.
The generals reflexively looked back.
Clearly, these supply carts naturally followed the Qingshan Army.
The generals moved aside, riding back, deep in thought.
"How about we send a sentry to inform Lord Bo and see how he wants to decide?" a general suddenly said.
Days have already passed, and sending a sentry to deliver a message back and forth will take some time, not to mention the Jurchen obstacles in between—whether the message can even be delivered is uncertain.
This statement clearly implied they were going to follow the Qingshan Army.
On one hand, there were Lord Bo's orders, and on the other, life and death. No, no, of course, they weren't afraid of life and death; instead, it was about not dying without meaning. Dying should be of value.
Achieving victory and relieving Lord Bo's encirclement—this is true merit.
The generals exchanged glances.
What to do?
........
........
Far behind them, a swirling dust cloud was faintly visible, a sign of departing troops.
"Two armies have left," a sentry hurriedly reported.
Li Guorui couldn't help but wipe sweat off his forehead.
Out of five armies, only two left. This managed to deceive more than half; it could be considered a success.
Unexpectedly, the Qingshan Army, originally thought to be used and discarded, instead attracted more than half of Suning Pass's troops.
This was something unimaginable even in dreams.
If Uncle Qinghe knew, he would probably be so angry he'd vomit blood, right?
Li Guorui found it somewhat amusing, but this matter was clearly no joke.
"Miss Zhao," he couldn't help but step forward and whisper, "Whose order did you actually receive? When Lord Bo's military order reached you, I saw you also received a small note."
During confrontations and skirmishes with the Jin Enemy, there was no issue with this girl's formations. Still, in terms of moving troops and long-distance defense arrangements, he couldn't believe she could adapt on the fly.
Zhao Hanqing let out an "oh."
"Uncle Guorui, you're not an outsider; I won't hide it from you," she said, "It was from the Duke of Chengguo."
As expected!
Li Guorui's expression turned complex.
"Didn't you say the Qingshan Army wasn't under the Duke of Chengguo's control?" he said, "Why are you following his orders now?"
So all those earlier claims were this young girl's lies?
"No, they weren't," Zhao Hanqing looked at him, calm and composed, "I didn't follow his orders; I followed my sister's."
What?
Li Guorui was momentarily speechless.
Zhao Hanqing smiled at him.
"My sister said that the Duke of Chengguo was right," she said.
So she chose the secret order from the Duke of Chengguo, abandoning aid to Uncle Qinghe and heading south?
However, where was she heading south to?
Li Guorui couldn't help but look ahead.
These thirty to forty thousand troops rolling forward, headed to the capital?
Li Guorui shivered.
Duke of Chengguo, what are you planning?
....
.....
"Duke of Chengguo, you merely wish for my death."
Uncle Qinghe rose from a fallen stone of the castle, glancing around. The place was much more desolate than before.
The city also appeared more dilapidated, evidently having endured a battle on the city walls.
Having endured a city wall battle indicated that the enemy forces were now at the gates, meaning an impending pitched battle that would be both brutal and arduous.
"Lord Bo!" The surrounding generals' expressions were filled with anger, "The Duke of Chengguo is indeed a rebel!"
This anger was mixed with a sense of sorrow.
This time, it seemed they were about to be besieged by the Jurchens here.
"It's not yet time to talk about being besieged." Uncle Qinghe slammed his large saber into the ground, and despite his pale face, a resolute determination burst forth, "Ten years ago he trapped me without killing me, and today he still cannot succeed!"
Raising his saber, he ordered, "Gather and prepare for battle, face the enemy."