"Do you think this way you can atone for your sins by meritorious deeds?"
Uncle Qinghe looked at Duke of Chengguo, his expression indifferent as he spoke.
"You transferred the government soldiers from the northern lands, left us in a perilous situation, coldly watched as the soldiers battled fiercely with the Jurchen people, waited for both sides to be exhausted, and then descended from the sky—is this how you earned your heroic name, Zhu Shan?"
The earlier cheers and exuberance had dissipated, and on either side of the city gate, facing each other were the remnants of Uncle Qinghe's troops, who, when looking upon the reinforcements that had rescued them, felt no gratitude, only sorrow and anger.
Someone stood up before Uncle Qinghe could reply.
"My Lord, that's not the case." The bearded general, already wounded with an arm yet to be bandaged, his half-body stained with blood, said, "The Duke transferred us not to trouble you, but because he knew of the Jurchen's plot, suspected they had set up a trap for the reinforcements, and thus ordered us to lead troops to Songshan to seize their provisions first."
Other officers, once thought to have fled insubordinately, also stood up one after another in agreement.
"...The Duke had me intercept the Jurchen reinforcements at the Northern Wing."
"...I did something simpler, seizing Lilu Town to attack the Jin thief from the side."
Other loyal reinforcements of Uncle Qinghe also stepped forward.
"My Lord, we were intercepted by the Jurchen people outside and couldn't advance or retreat; it was Duke of Chengguo who rescued us."
"My Lord, I was incapable, too afraid to approach the battle, and retreated thirty miles with my troops; it was Duke of Chengguo who admonished and ordered me to bring the soldiers back."
Upon hearing these explanations, the troops and officers on Uncle Qinghe's side were enlightened—so it wasn't indifference, but another strategy at play.
Uncle Qinghe's expression remained cold.
"You knew of the Jurchen's plot," he said, looking at Duke of Chengguo, "then you must have also known about my ambush beforehand?"
The expressions of the troops and officers grew complex once again.
If he knew in advance yet did not warn them, either due to animosity with Uncle Qinghe or for revenge, deliberately watching them fall into dire straits and cause heavy casualties among fellow comrades, would that not be aiding tyranny?
Duke of Chengguo smiled, this time stopping his surrounding officers from speaking.
"When I say I know the Jurchen's plot, it's because I understand the cunning nature of their soldiers, not that I knew of their exact plans," he said, then suddenly nodded at Qinghe, "though I did foresee your ambush."
What does that mean?
"Because you're always arrogant and obstinate, brave but not wise," Duke of Chengguo said.
Uncle Qinghe's vision turned black with anger, nearly fainting.
Even the officers on the side found it embarrassing to hear.
Although the two had old grudges, having suffered such a severe setback, wouldn't it have been kinder to speak with a little more courtesy, even just in words?
Uncle Qinghe, already advanced in years and having endured long battles—he shouldn't die at the hands of the Jurchen, but rather be angered to death by Duke of Chengguo.
"Fine, fine." Uncle Qinghe took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he looked at Duke of Chengguo, "Even if I am foolish and you're brilliant, you saw through everything—why didn't you warn? I don't care if I die, but can you really bear watching so many soldiers go to their deaths?"
Duke of Chengguo looked at him.
"If I warned, would you have believed me?" he said.
Uncle Qinghe froze.
He, of course, wouldn't believe...
"If everyone believed what I said," Duke of Chengguo continued, looking at Uncle Qinghe, "you wouldn't be here now."
Uncle Qinghe had come to the northern lands, supposedly to temporarily replace Duke of Chengguo who had returned to the capital, but after returning, Duke of Chengguo was detained by the emperor, impeached by many, and eventually accused of treason by close associates, forced to flee.
Thus, Uncle Qinghe had the opportunity to become the general of the northern lands.
If the dynasty believed Duke of Chengguo were innocent, he would still be the general in the north, and naturally, Uncle Qinghe would leave.
Uncle Qinghe's expression was stiff.
"Your alleged treason is not a matter to discuss now, nor do I need you to tell me," he said, "but regarding the ambush I fell into, you must provide an explanation."
Duke of Chengguo nodded.
"Indeed, my affairs are not the most pressing matter right now, but neither are yours," he said, his expression heavy, "the most important thing now is whether the Jurchen have already reached the capital."
What?
The Jurchen reached the capital?
Uncle Qinghe and the officers present looked shocked.
What nonsense is this, how could the Jurchen reach the capital?
..........
...........
The sunlight was bright, the morning mist had dispersed, but the wind atop the tall watchtower felt even stronger and colder, a chill that tensed everyone's spirits.
A slurping sound came from behind, prompting a soldier, gripping his long spear and remaining vigilant of the surroundings, to turn around and see a chubby soldier squatting on the ground, holding a big bowl and eating noodles.
A bowl of soup noodles with fried pork fat and cabbage in hand, emitting steam in the wind, the soldier clasping the bowl also clutching a green onion, taking a bite of noodles followed by a bite of the onion, while humming a little tune in between.
"Even eating can't shut you up," the soldier scolded, kicking at his backside.
The noodle-eating soldier jumped aside before he could be kicked, squatting again, miraculously not spilling a drop of the soup from the bowl.
"Made by Old Yang for Lord Huang, Lord Huang was in no mood to eat it; such fortune is rare, better not waste it," he mumbled, shoving noodles into his mouth with chopsticks, then hesitantly offered to the soldier, "Brother Han, would you like to try some?"
Brother Han spat.
"You still eat, just look at how fat you've gotten, like a pig; when the Jin thief comes, you won't even be able to run, let alone fight," he said.
The noodle-eating soldier chuckled, biting into the onion and slurping a huge mouthful of noodles, swallowing them nearly whole.
"Brother, the Jurchen are all fighting up north with Uncle Qinghe; we're on Jingdong Road," he said, nodding southwards, "once you cross this river, you'd be in the capital; no way can the Jurchen come here."
Brother Han tucked his long spear under his arm, cupping his hands as he squatted down to avoid the wind.
"Speaking of which, these reinforcements involve quite a number, even more provisions and supplies," he said, "our Lord is upset because of this."
"His Lordship is just being needlessly worried; once a victory is won, and My Lord is pleased, whatever Lord wants, it'll be given," the noodle-eating soldier said, crunching the onion, "what's the big deal about a little shortage of food, drink, and weapons? Surely the Jurchen won't come this way?"
For some reason, Brother Han felt inexplicably uneasy hearing him mention the Jurchen twice.
"Eat your noodles and hush..." he grumbled, standing up and habitually squinting out into the wild, suddenly opening his mouth wide, "...wolf...wolf..."
The noodle-eating soldier wiped his nose with his sleeve and looked up.
"A wolf? Where would a wolf come from around here?" he said, but the next moment as his bowl clattered to the ground, spilling broth and noodles, his voice trembled, "Wolf smoke..."
In the distant northwest, a plume of wolf smoke rose, expanding in the fierce wind like the talons of a monstrous beast stretching out.
Not just one, but further in the west and northeast, multiple plumes of wolf smoke began to rise, covering half the sky like brewing dark clouds.
The two soldiers standing on the tens-of-meters-high watchtower felt their scalps tingle.
It had been a long, long time since wolf smoke rose along Jingdong Road.
"The last time wolf smoke rose, the Jurchen attacked the old city of Kaifeng... I wasn't even born then," the chubby soldier murmured, then shuddered as he spoke, paling as he turned to look southward.
What about this time...
The Capital...
...
....
(Did any of you expect I would have three updates today? Those who didn't guess, admit defeat and vote, those who did guess, no need to say more, vote, thank you all, bow)