Chapter 162 She Really Didn’t Notice Zhao Bian’s…

Chapter 162 She Truly Didn’t Notice Zhao Bian’s Treachery...

"Is that General Zhou Hong down there?" someone shouted from the battlements.

Zhou Hong looked up. The ramparts were heavily guarded with soldiers, their defenses formidable. "That’s correct."

"If these are General Zhou’s troops, then I shall open the gates and welcome you into the city," Zhang Zheng replied.

Soon, the two massive iron-ringed gates groaned open.

"General Zhou, please enter."

Zhou Hong didn’t move. Instead, he asked, "Under whose command did you serve before? I don’t recognize you."

Zhang Zheng’s heart skipped a beat, but he masked his unease and answered clearly, "This subordinate previously served as a lieutenant under General Dong Yao. Given my low rank, it’s no surprise the general hasn’t met me."

This task would’ve been better suited for Zhang Yan, but Zhang Yan had refused.

He could join Jiang Congyan in killing Zhao Bian—after all, Zhao Bian had first schemed to kidnap her and used her life to threaten Tuo Baxiao into retreat. He owed her for putting her in such danger, and he loathed the Zhao father and son; their deaths were no loss. But Zhou Hong was different.

In truth, from the moment he helped Jiang Congyan seize Guyuan City, an irreparable rift—or rather, a complete break—had formed between him and Liang. Whether it was delusion or cowardice, he simply couldn’t bring himself to personally scheme against Zhou Hong now.

The most he could do was nothing at all.

Most of Tuo Baxiao’s subordinates were Xianbei, leaving Zhang Zheng as the only one who could carry out this task.

Zhang Zheng’s excuse wasn’t entirely implausible. With tens of thousands of troops and hundreds of low-ranking lieutenants, how could Zhou Hong possibly know every one? Especially since Zhang Zheng claimed to be under Dong Yao, a Liang officer stationed in the northern commandery—someone Zhou Hong was even less familiar with.

Yet Zhou Hong’s instincts prickled.

The soldiers on the battlements wore Liang armor, and their faces were all Han, but his intuition as a seasoned general told him something was wrong.

Zhao Bian had ordered him here to flank the Xianbei, so where were they? There was no sign of the Xianbei Army, nor of Zhao Bian himself.

Zhou Hong voiced his doubts.

Zhang Zheng replied, "It was all a misunderstanding."

Zhou Hong frowned. "A misunderstanding?"

"Indeed. Our Liang forces have already retaken Guyuan. The Prince of Mobei believed the city was still held by the tribesmen and prepared to attack. Later, General Zhao personally negotiated with him, and the misunderstanding was resolved. The Prince of Mobei withdrew his troops. We hadn’t had time to inform you, General. We apologize for the wasted march here, so General Zhao ordered me to await your arrival and welcome you into the city as a token of apology."

At first glance, his explanation seemed plausible. Misunderstandings between Liang and Xianbei forces, each fighting independently, weren’t impossible. But Zhou Hong remained suspicious.

The intelligence he had received indicated Tuo Baxiao was besieging Wudati Hou. Given Zhao Bian’s capabilities, how could he have pulled victory from the jaws of two tigers? It wasn’t that he looked down on Liang’s forces—it was simply that their combat strength couldn’t compare to the nomads’, and Zhao Bian was no legendary commander. Otherwise, the earlier battles wouldn’t have gone so poorly.

"Could General Zhao come out to speak with me?" Zhou Hong asked.

Zhang Zheng, standing atop the battlements, was fighting to keep his face neutral. Weren’t the Liang troops meant to be incompetent? Why was this Zhou Hong so suspicious?

He took a deep breath and clasped his hands in apology. "General Zhao has been exhausted from days of labor and has come down with a chill. He is currently bedridden and begs your pardon."

Zhou Hong squinted. "Then may I speak with Generals Chen Qi and Dong Yao?"

"Generals Chen and Dong are knee-deep in war preparations and cannot step away."

At this, Zhou Hong’s expression turned to ice.

He reached behind his back and gave his men a hidden signal.

"Since the misunderstanding has been resolved, I won’t disturb you by entering the city. I’ll be on my way."

With that, he turned his horse around to depart.

"Ah, General Zhou, don’t be in such a hurry to leave," Zhang Zheng said, getting antsy.

Zhou Hong ignored him, intent on withdrawing his troops.

However, just as the army began to move, a tremendous tremor erupted in the distance—the thunder of tens of thousands of galloping hooves shook the earth like a landslide.

Zhou Hong’s expression darkened. As the approaching forces drew nearer and the massive black banners fluttering in the air became clear, his face turned livid with rage.

"We’re under attack!"

"It’s the Xianbei!"

At the same time, a large number of archers swiftly appeared atop the city walls—tall, muscular, all Xianbei.

Guyuan had already fallen to Tuo Baxiao!

Advance meant walking into a wolf’s den; retreat meant facing a tiger’s jaws. Zhou Hong was now trapped outside Guyuan, unable to advance or retreat, seething with rage.

Gradually, a tall and imposing figure appeared on the city walls—Tuo Baxiao.

Since Zhou Hong wasn’t biting, Tuo Baxiao no longer needed to hide.

Zhou Hong raised his head and snapped, "Prince of Mobei, you came to aid Liang State against the Xiongnu. The city fell to you, and it’s yours now—I have no intention of reclaiming it. Are you breaking our pact to wage war on Liang?"

Tuo Baxiao looked down at him coldly, his jade-green eyes devoid of emotion.

Seeing this, Zhang Zheng stepped forward to explain, "General Zhou, our prince didn’t strike first. It was Zhao Bian who betrayed the alliance first. You must know that our prince had been bogged down at Guyuan for days, fighting Wudati Hou’s main forces. It was only after our prince launched a surprise attack that the Xiongnu were defeated. Yet Zhao Bian took advantage of our prince pursuing Wudati Hou to seize Guyuan..."

After hearing Zhang Zheng’s account, Zhou Hong finally understood the full sequence of events. His fury burned—if the timing weren’t so dire, he could’ve cursed for days.

What the hell was this? What did any of this have to do with him? He had been leading his troops dutifully in battle when Zhao Bian dragged him into this. He was deceived into coming here, only to find Guyuan changing hands again. Now, trapped in this predicament, he felt like the unluckiest man alive.

He loathed Zhao Bian to the core, but there was no use dwelling on it now—Zhao Bian was likely already stone-cold dead.

Suppressing his rage, Zhou Hong adopted a conciliatory tone. "I only came here under Zhao Bian’s orders, believing Guyuan was in peril. Since this is the truth of the matter, it was all Zhao Bian’s scheming. Now that Guyuan belongs to the Prince of Mobei, I have no objections and will not attack the city. Will the prince let us leave?"

His words carried sincere intent, for he was outnumbered and outmatched. His only hope lay in Tuo Baxiao’s "reasonableness"—but this hope was doomed to disappointment.

Tuo Baxiao said only, "Lay down your arms, and you’ll live."

Zhou Hong’s expression twisted with anger and resentment.

Had Tuo Baxiao painted all Liang troops with the same brush because of Zhao Bian? If so, then there was nothing left to discuss.

"And if I refuse to surrender?" Zhou Hong gritted his teeth.

Tuo Baxiao remained silent, but the Xianbei army poised on the plains spoke for him.

Zhou Hong, as a descendant of Zhou Qiong—whose grandfather had followed the Founding Emperor in resisting the barbarians and pacifying the realm—was raised to defend his country. How could he bow to the Xianbei? If he did, he’d disgrace the Zhou name for generations.

Then so be it—let’s fight.

Just as Zhou Hong raised his long blade and was about to give the order, someone he never expected appeared once more on the city wall.

"Princess?"

He had never met Jiang Congyan before, but judging from her appearance, demeanor, and Tuo Baxiao's closeness to her, she was undoubtedly Princess You'an.

A flicker of hope sparked in him—could the princess persuade the Prince to let him leave? After all, she was a princess of the Liang State. Surely she wouldn't want to see so many Liang forces die for nothing?

In Zhang Zheng's earlier account, Jiang Congyan's part was left out, mentioning only that Zhao Bian had stolen the city before it was retaken by the Prince of Mobei. Thus, Zhou Hong was unaware of Jiang Congyan's role in the matter.

On the city wall, Tuo Baxiao seemed to be speaking to her, but his voice was too soft for Zhou Hong to hear.

"Why have you come up here? You're not fully recovered yet—you should be resting," Tuo Baxiao said as soon as he saw her, rushing to check her hands and forehead. Her temperature was normal, at least; she wasn't feverish.

Jiang Congyan shook her head. "It's not that bad. I'm fine." She then looked down at the city gate. "Zhou Hong saw through our ruse."

Tuo Baxiao snorted coldly. "I told you this was a waste of time."

Jiang Congyan replied, "I never intended to take his life."

That was why she had earlier discussed with him the plan to disguise Guyuan as still being under Zhao Bian's control to lure Zhou Hong in. Unfortunately, he had been too cautious.

"Now that he refuses to surrender, I have no choice but to act," Tuo Baxiao said.

Jiang Congyan wanted to persuade him further.

She took a few steps forward to the edge of the wall and called out loudly to Zhou Hong, "General Zhou, I have no wish to fight and cause casualties among your Liang forces. Given the current situation, you are no match for the Xianbei Army. Surrender now, and I swear on my life that no Liang soldier who surrenders will be killed."

Jiang Congyan's personal intervention indeed gave Zhou Hong a different impression than Tuo Baxiao's presence.

She was Han, and a princess of the Liang State. Surely she wouldn't want to see nomads butchering their people.

Zhou Hong responded, "This lowly general begs, could the Princess intercede with the Prince of Mobei? If he could let my men leave, they would owe you their lives."

Jiang Congyan's expression was troubled, but she didn't outright refuse.

Then, he saw the princess speaking to the Prince again, she seemed to be pleading. Zhou Hong grew tense.

After a while, Jiang Congyan said, "General Zhou, the Xianbei respect strength above all. The Prince challenges you to single combat. If you can defeat him, he will agree to let you all go."

Zhou Hong had been caught between hammer and anvil—trapped, with the enemy’s numbers surpassing his own. He had no confidence in victory, and even if he fought his way out, what use would it be if his soldiers were all lost? Not surrendering would mean sacrificing their lives, but surrendering was a decision he couldn't bring himself to make. Hearing this offer, he was overjoyed.

Given the Prince's character, he wouldn't stoop to dishonesty. If Zhou Hong won, they might truly leave safely.

It was said that Tuo Baxiao's martial prowess was unmatched in the world, but in matters of combat, no fighter admits he's second-best—especially against an opponent they had never faced before. Zhou Hong wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could definitely defeat Tuo Baxiao, but this was his only chance.

He dismounted and bowed in gratitude before remounting and raising his blade in readiness.

Tuo Baxiao also descended from the city wall, swung onto his Li Eagle, and emerged slowly from the gate, spear in hand.

For a Han man, Zhou Hong was undoubtedly robust, but as Tuo Baxiao approached, the gap between them was clear.

This disparity wasn't just between him and Tuo Baxiao—it was stark even between ordinary Liang soldiers and Xianbei warriors. These nomads ate far more meat than the Han, which was why the grasslands could sustain only a tenth as many people compared to the Central Plains.

The Liang forces at the city gate quickly scrambled to clear a wide circle, until only the two combatants remained.

Without ceremony, Tuo Baxiao struck first.

Riding the Li Eagle, man and steed moved as one, charging forward like a moving mountain, radiating terrifying pressure. Zhou Hong steadied his nerves and raised his blade to meet the attack.

With a resounding clang, the spear and broadsword collided, sparks flying. The sheer force from the speed of the charge and their own strength sent a numbing shock through their hands.

Just this first exchange shook Zhou Hong—Tuo Baxiao was even more formidable than he had anticipated. But he refused to admit defeat, yanking his horse to a stop before swiftly charging back.

Tuo Baxiao’s brow furrowed, his gaze sharp and cold as he closed the distance.

This time, it was no mere glancing blow. Both men exerted their full strength, guiding their horses with just their knees as they fought while riding.

The cheers drowned out the clashing of their weapons.

True to his fearsome reputation, Tuo Baxiao’s strength was among the greatest Zhou Hong had ever encountered. But beyond raw power, his techniques and reflexes were devastatingly fast, making the fight an exhausting struggle for Zhou Hong. He was so focused on the fight that he didn’t notice their position gradually shifting closer to the city gates.

Then, at a critical moment, Tuo Baxiao suddenly intensified his assault, and with a powerful thrust of his spear, unseated Zhou Hong.

Zhou Hong quickly covered his vitals, rolling several times on the ground. Twisting to defend, he scrambled—only for a large net to descend from above, ensnaring him completely.

Zhou Hong froze briefly. By the time he realized what had happened and tried to tear free, Xianbei soldiers had already pounced to tie him up.

From the moment he fell to his capture, the entire ordeal lasted mere seconds—a seamless, well-coordinated maneuver that left the Liang troops outside frozen in shock.

At first, Zhou Hong couldn’t believe it. Then, as understanding dawned, he saw red.

"Tuo Baxiao, you cheated!" Zhou Hong roared, writhing like a caged animal. "You promised—if I won, you’d let me go! And now—"

"Did you win?" Tuo Baxiao pressed the edge of his spear against Zhou Hong’s throat, his voice icy.

Zhou Hong: "..."

"I lost. Kill me if you must—what’s the meaning of capturing me like this?"

Tuo Baxiao looked down at him from horseback, his eyes cold. "Do you think I want to spare your life?"

"What are you implying?"

But Tuo Baxiao ignored him, turning instead to the Liang soldiers. "Your commander has been captured. Will you still refuse to yield?"

Finally, Zhou Hong understood—he had been played again. Tuo Baxiao’s challenge had never been about letting him go; it was all a ploy to capture him alive and force the surrender of his men.

And the princess… had she been in on it too?

"Don’t—" Before Zhou Hong could finish, his mouth was swiftly silenced mid-sentence.

A Long had recently mastered silencing foes mid-sentence, requiring quick reflexes and perfect timing.

With Zhou Hong bound and dragged into the city, the Liang troops, now headless, found themselves at the mercy of the encircling Xianbei forces. Jiang Congyan stepped forward, pressing them to yield and promising no harm would come to those who surrendered. Their resolve broke, and soon, they all laid down their arms.

Zhao Bian’s forty thousand surrendered troops, combined with Zhou Hong’s thirty thousand, totaled over seventy thousand captives—surpassing the Xianbei in numbers. Such an outcome had surely defied all expectations.

Most of Tuo Baxiao’s generals were Xianbei, with only General Modolou who spoke Han Chinese. In the end, Jiang Congyan handed over the 70,000 captives to Zhang Zheng, with Modolou assisting.

If she could train these seventy thousand and turn them into her own forces, she would finally possess true military power—not a gift from Tuo Baxiao, but something she could wield herself.

Beyond her aversion to needless slaughter, this was a crucial reason she had fought so hard to spare these prisoners.

Though she had sealed off Gu Yuan, word always gets out. News of what had transpired would soon reach Chang’an.

When the Emperor of Liang learned of her actions, his rage was guaranteed—and her father would bear the brunt of it. Jiang Congyan had to warn her father to flee before the news arrived in Chang’an.

She wrote a letter and called for Lingxiao.

"Sorry to bother our sweet Lingxiao again."

Lingxiao grumbled twice, clearly unhappy about delivering letters in such brutally cold weather.

Jiang Congyan had to coax it with many sweet words and scratch its belly for a while before it finally agreed.

Besides sending the letter, she also ordered He Zhou to lead a team disguised as a merchant caravan to swiftly head for Chang'an, in case anything went wrong.

——

October was approaching, and this winter was brutally cold.

Guyuan’s supplies weren’t enough for an army that size. Jiang Congyan ordered Zhang Zheng to escort some of the surrendered soldiers to Lingwu, with further arrangements to follow.

Zhou Hong refused to surrender and even went on a hunger strike. Jiang Congyan went to see him, but he dug in his heels, and even she couldn’t get through to him. For now, she had no choice but to drop it.

She ordered her men to keep a close watch on him but forbade him from dying—even if they had to shove food and water down his throat every day.

With matters in Guyuan settled, Zhang Yan wasn’t sticking around and prepared to return to Liangzhou. Before leaving, he came to see Jiang Congyan.

The two sat in the main hall, while Si Zi moved the charcoal brazier from inside to outside to keep the lady from getting cold.

"Ah Yan, from now on, are you... cutting ties with Liang for good?" After hesitating for a long time, he finally asked the question.

If killing Zhao Bian and seizing Guyuan could still be considered self-defense, then luring Zhou Hong afterward was a calculated move. Even in the current situation, Zhang Yan still didn’t want to become an enemy of Liang, which was why he had refused to participate in the ambush against Zhou Hong the other day.

Jiang Congyan lowered her eyes and stirred the coals with an iron poker to make the fire burn brighter. "We’ve already broken with them, haven’t we?"

Zhang Yan tensed up. "This... this was forced by Zhao Bian. But what about the future? What will you do next? Will you help the Xianbei attack Liang?"

Jiang Congyan shook her head.

Zhang Yan: "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Jiang Congyan raised her head. "I don’t know what’s coming next."

"Elder brother, I once told Third Brother that as long as I’m here, I won’t allow Tuo Baxiao to massacre Han civilians. That promise will never change, no matter how much time passes."

Zhang Yan relaxed a little.

Jiang Congyan continued, "Elder brother, the Emperor’s got no hold over me now, but you—you should think about yourself."

Zhang Yan had also been involved in the events at Guyuan. Regardless of whether he was a victim or how much he participated, in the eyes of the Emperor of Liang, it would all be evidence of his betrayal. The Emperor likely wouldn’t let him off easily and might even punish all of Liangzhou for it.

"Elder brother, Grandfather and Liangzhou have given enough. I only hope that from now on, you can protect yourselves..."

After their conversation, Zhang Yan departed the next day.

Jiang Congyan personally saw him off outside the city, watching until he vanished into the endless snow before slowly turning back. Instead of returning to her residence, she headed up the south watchtower.

The guards knew better than to stop her and stood at attention, waiting for her command.

Step by step, she ascended the stairs until she reached the top of the tower, finding a good vantage point.

"I have no urgent business. I just want to be alone for a while. All of you may leave."

They left without a word.

Jiang Congyan stood facing south, gazing into the distance. The weather was unusually clear today, with the earth blanketed in thick ice and snow—vast, bleak yet beautiful under the sun.

She stared blankly at the land of Liang State before her, her solitary, slender figure framed by the rugged city walls, a deep melancholy spreading around her.

Was all this fate? Did history always return to its set course?

In the past timeline, Tuo Baxiao had not marched south to aid Liang State against the Xiongnu, and Liang had ultimately paid the price of three hundred thousand troops and more than a dozen cities to survive the crisis of annihilation. Yet now, the situation seemed no better than that original outcome.

Tens of thousands of Liang soldiers had perished in battle, and she had taken seventy thousand prisoners. Similarly, over a hundred thousand troops had been lost, and several major cities beyond Xiaoguan had fallen into Tuo Baxiao’s hands. The northern commanderies—Beidi, Anding, and Hanyang—were now effectively under the control of the Xianbei Army. Liang State, too, had suffered devastating losses.

It was as though no matter what she did, she was merely stepping further into history’s set course. Had her choices shaped history, or was history’s pull shaping her? Jiang Congyan couldn’t say for certain, yet she had no choice but to proceed.

Tuo Baxiao had abandoned cities for her without hesitation. There truly was someone who would choose her steadfastly, no matter the circumstances. Because of that, she couldn’t fail him in this.

But did she really have no other choice? Had she truly failed to notice Zhao Bian’s scheme?

Jiang Congyan raised her hand, revealing a corner of a letter in her palm. She unfolded it slowly—it was the very one she had received.

Zhang Yan’s penmanship was ordinary, lacking any distinctive flair, making it easy to imitate. She was only vaguely familiar with his script and couldn’t spot any discrepancies in the strokes. Yet the letter itself was the flaw.

From the moment the messenger addressed her as "Princess" instead of "Lady," the seed of doubt had been planted.

The trusted aides of her cousins had always called her "Lady," never "Princess."

Moreover, given her elder brother’s nature, he would surely have instructed the messenger to inquire about her well-being. Yet this man had delivered the letter, asked nothing, and hurried away—another red flag.

Then there was the letter’s content. "Zhang Yan" had asked her to meet him outside the city, a request completely contrary to his usual conduct. Her elder brother had always cherished her—why would he force her to brave the ice and snow?

Given the current turmoil and so many red flags, her usual cautious self would have sought confirmation—either by sending a reply or bringing more guards if she ventured out. There were plenty of ways to sidestep this trap, yet she hadn’t taken any of them. She had gone anyway. She couldn’t explain what had driven her—was it a sliver of unrealistic hope? Hope that Liang State wasn’t this far gone? Or was it a moment of decisive resolve?

In the end, she had done exactly as Tuo Baxiao had hoped—cut all bonds with Liang State. Her elder brother had been dragged into the turmoil because of her, and Liangzhou could never return to what it once was.

Jiang Congyan clenched the letter and tore it in two with a sharp rip, then shredded it into smaller pieces. She released her grip, and the scraps scattered in the wind. Her hair and skirts fluttered wildly, a match for the storm in her heart.

This was the scene Tuo Baxiao saw when he ascended the city tower. As he drew closer and spotted the tear track on her cheek, his heart clenched. "Yan Yan?"