Chapter 27: Vengeance

A slender crescent moon hung high over the walls of Hengguan, its cold, ashen light illuminating a solitary, upright figure and a perfectly square coffin.

"Young Prince, I... am no longer the man I once was," Feng Jing’s voice was heavy with regret. "When you were born, I was still in the capital. The late emperor trusted me so much that I even held you in my arms..."

Had this been in his younger days, Feng Jing, upon receiving an order to "stand by for support," would likely have ridden out with his men before the fighting even broke out. But during the Wangyan season, he felt the city’s defense would be easy, and since Zi Jie was Ye Linhui’s disciple, nothing should have gone wrong. Who could have foreseen that Zi Jie’s cunning would be turned against him?

As the thought struck him, Feng Jing’s half-closed eyes snapped open, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

"Traitor! Guards!"

A soldier hurried over, saluting. "Commander, what are your orders?"

"Summon all officers to me, at once!" Feng Jing’s eyes gleamed with steel.

"Yes, sir!"

When the old general gave a command, none dared disobey. Whether resting or awake, every officer stood before Feng Jing within a quarter of an hour.

Feng Jing’s sharp gaze swept across the assembled officers, his presence exuding the iron-blooded aura of one seasoned by countless battles. Some of the younger officers soon found themselves drenched in sweat beneath his scrutiny.

"You all know the route Prince Xueyou took on his raid, don’t you?" he asked.

After questioning, it was found that about thirty percent of the officers present knew the route Prince Xueyou had taken that day, while the rest did not.

Feng Jing spoke: "Prince Xueyou was ambushed on his way to the raid. I needn’t say what that means! If it was collusion with Xia, it’s unpardonable but at least understandable. After all, we share blood with them, and our fates are bound together. But now, with foreign invaders at our gates, someone still betrays our Wang bloodline and plots against our heroes! We stand beneath the Star God and upon Wang soil—how can we harbor such scum among us? There is no law for the crime of betraying one’s kin, but even death a thousand times could not atone! If you step forward now and end your life before Prince Xueyou’s spirit, I will see to it that your family is spared!"

No one present was a fool; all realized there must be a traitor. Yet the officers looked at each other in silence, none daring to speak.

"No one will admit it?"

"Com—Commander..." a young officer stammered.

"You!" Feng Jing’s fury was barely contained, his hand going for his sword.

"Wait, Commander!" The young officer, seeing Feng Jing’s wrath, suddenly found his voice. "Commander, I only wanted to say—there’s one other who knew the prince’s route, but he’s no longer in Hengguan."

Feng Jing lowered his hand. "Who? Where is he?"

"It’s General Chen Qingwei. He’s already departed for Luoshui City."

"What?! Who gave him permission? Why didn’t anyone stop him?" Feng Jing thundered.

"Commander, he’s a third-rank general—we’re not his equals," the officers replied.

Feng Jing took a deep breath, cursing under his breath. "Damn it! Don’t let Ye Linhui come to harm! Someone, bring me brush and paper!"

He quickly penned a secret message.

"There's no time to send a man or a pigeon by hand!"

Moments later, a carrier pigeon soared from Hengguan, heading straight south.

"Lin Hui, Chen Qingwei is a traitor, colluding with the Yan tribe. He leaked Prince Xueyou’s route! Be extremely careful! —Feng Jing"

With the message sent, Feng Jing said, "Go rest, all of you. Tomorrow, we must crush Lin Yuluo!"

In the night sky, a lone white pigeon flew tirelessly through the mountains, heading south.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of air being pierced by garments rang out—a figure leaped down from a distant cliff and spread crimson wings, gliding toward the pigeon.

"Die!" A flying hook shot out, and with a cry, the pigeon was skewered and fell to the ground. The figure landed lightly, examining the message.

"Hmph... It was indeed a carrier pigeon. Fools, so easily discovered. Good thing I intercepted it. The plan cannot go awry—Ye Linhui must die!"

How can one’s proud bones rust in the tomb, yet on looking back, still see the path once traveled? Why do furious eyes mirror those of youth, while closing them brings no peace, for the journey continues? In white armor and silver brows, we guard our rivers and mountains; in black garments and on ink-dark horses, we defend Hengguan. Last night, a sigh drifted from the tower—where on this iron-blooded land is there not both sorrow and joy?

The next morning, just after breakfast, both armies at Hengguan had gathered, ready for battle.

Unless caught in a sudden skirmish, Wang soldiers always received a full meal before fighting. In the wars between Xia and Xue, so long as it didn’t affect the outcome, veterans and underage soldiers were spared where possible.

In pitched battles, if one side began to rout and victory was clear, the victors pursued no further than a hundred paces. Beyond that, not only did they cease the slaughter, but sometimes even helped their foes with post-battle matters.

Because of this, when faced with foreign invasion, the people of both nations could lay aside their grudges and unite against the enemy. But leaders thought differently, caring little for the people’s feelings and only for their own interests.

After months of conflict, even the Yan tribe had learned of this tradition and would not disturb their enemies’ pre-battle meal. Even in invasion, even in war, they kept their own sense of honor. Some might call this false righteousness, since they were the aggressors, but it was not the warriors who decided upon war—they only followed orders.

In the central command tent, the officers restrained General Feng Jing, who was eager to rush to the front lines.

"Commander, we need you here to direct the battle! We have more than twenty vanguard officers for the charge!"

"Yes, Commander, you’re too old to be fighting at the front!"

Even his hand, reaching for his victory hook to draw his saber, was held down, his hair bristling with anger. "I was ordered to personally claim Lin Yuluo’s head! If you stop me here, who will answer to the court if I fail?"

His fury grew, his voice rising, even lapsing into more vulgar address. "If I don’t bring back Lin Yuluo’s head, you lot can face the court in my stead!"

At that moment, the Yan army’s drums thundered across the field.

"Commander!" a general called, "The Yan are beating their drums, should we—"

Before he could finish, Feng Jing, barely able to contain himself, cut him off. "Damn it! You’re wasting my time! Do you think I’d let them drum first if you’d let me go? Sound the drums!"

But there was always a cautious officer with a plan.

"Commander, since we didn’t respond immediately, perhaps we should wait until their second drumbeat to advance—morale could shift in our favor—"

In battle, when one side beat the drums, the other would usually respond in kind, and then both would advance. If one side refused, the initiator could not attack, except after three drumbeats, when they might advance regardless.

He hadn’t finished his thought when those who knew Feng Jing sighed as one. As expected...

"You think I haven’t lost enough face? Interrupting me again? Who do you think you are? Sound the drums! If the troops lack spirit, I’d rather not fight at all! Order the vanguard—charge like wild dogs!"

Soon, the drums thundered on their side as well, and the vanguard received their orders.

"Like wild dogs?"

Even in the tension of the moment, some vanguard officers couldn’t help but smile at the phrase.

"Brothers, charge with me!"

A fiery commander brought a different charisma than a cautious one. Nothing spurred the troops more than the vanguard’s wild, reckless cry of "Charge with me!"

A hundred thousand strong, the armies stretched from horizon to horizon. Though only the forward units had joined battle, already fifty or sixty thousand men clashed in a scene of utter chaos and bloodshed.

"Fang Long! Liu Chen!" Feng Jing called two names.

"At your command!" These were the leaders of the twenty thousand cavalry stationed at Hengguan.

"Whose men are these cavalry?"

The two exchanged glances. "Commander, these twenty thousand horsemen were personally trained by Marshal Ye two years ago! But they’ve little real battle experience."

Feng Jing stroked his beard and barked, "The two of you will take your cavalry around the flanks—capture their banners and war drums for me!"

After they left, Feng Jing thought for a moment and called, "Liu Jinghan! You take charge of the rear. Order the main force—advance with me!"

Fang Long and Liu Chen led their ten thousand riders each to assault the Yan army’s flanks, while Feng Jing advanced with twenty thousand.

Soon, Feng Jing saw the Yan army’s right command post’s banner and drum topple. Overjoyed, he raised his saber and shouted, "All troops, with me—let’s butcher Lin Yuluo!"

He charged at the fore, age forgotten, leading his men into the fray. Fearing disaster after Zi Jie’s fall, Liu Jinghan ordered the rear to strike the enemy’s left.

The smoke of battle cleared.

"Boy, I said that on the seventh day, I’d deliver your head to the young prince," Feng Jing declared.

"Old man... cough..." Lin Yuluo, gravely wounded, slumped to the ground. "If you dare kill me, my Lin clan will never let you go!"

Feng Jing roared with laughter. "Ha! You think I fear your empty threats? Did you think Xue would spare you after you killed Prince Xueyou?"

Without another word, Feng Jing’s blade flashed, and Lin Yuluo’s bloodied head soon hung from his belt.

Though Feng Jing’s bold assault claimed Lin Yuluo’s life, Xue did not anticipate that Feng Xiaoyang would soon arrive in secret.

He had learned the Xia emperor was now an ally and that Xiao Ming had orders to hold Pengzhou. Upon hearing that Lin Yuluo had used their own agents to kill a Xue prince, he knew the north was in peril. To slay the emperor’s half-brother on his own soil—if the Snow Emperor did not seek vengeance with all his might, he would not be fit to rule.

Thus, Feng Xiaoyang decided to ride north in secret. Unable to take the main roads due to the war, he rode hard for ten days and arrived at Hengguan.

The Demon Sect Valley was still sending troops, and now, with the cunning Feng Xiaoyang leading the Yan at Hengguan, the meaning of Feng Jing’s victory was reduced to a slight restoration of Xue’s honor—nothing more.

Lin Yuluo’s death left Lin Yufei and Lin Yukun in Luoshui City with the same grief Ye Linhui had felt days before. They swore to kill Ye Linhui and then march north to avenge their brother on Feng Jing.

For this reason, both sides in Luoshui soon clashed again in a massive battle, though it ended without victory for either.

The Wangyan season had now lasted ten months.

Records show that such times last no less than eleven months and no more than a year. The Yan tribe now prepared for a final, decisive battle, while the traitors plotted on without rest.

At this moment, Ye Pei felt a faint sense of relief.

"The Wangyan season is nearly over. Father should return safely, I hope."