Chapter 69 This Works, That Works

Chapter 69: This Way Works, That Way Too

As the situation grew dire again, there were moments of unexpected hope.

Could she, Liu Yiming, have really pulled off such a victory, enduring the bitter cold as she had before?

...

Though the flames behind them had quickly vanished around the bend of the mountain path, blocked by the surrounding snow and unable to spread far, and though the battlefield had already disappeared from her sight, Liu Yiming's thoughts lingered on the scene behind her—the moment the first spark had ignited in that place.

Now that was a fire, one that truly dispelled the chill around her.

Before being granted her name by the emperor and summoned from the streets of Jingkou to Jiankang, she had never realized how thrilling it could feel to make a decision—especially the moment a commander made one.

Enduring the hardships, gritting her teeth and pushing through—it was an experience akin to shedding a skin!

The food plundered from the Wei Army allowed her and her soldiers to eat their fill after leaving the battlefield.

After a quick breather, not letting fatigue slow them down, they set off again.

For them, there was still one more challenge—

To cross the Wei Army holding Hedong and return to Luoyang!

To return to their "home."

...

"Who knows when the rear supplies will arrive," muttered a Wei soldier, shrinking further into the windbreak of the sentry post to avoid the knife-wind freezing him solid.

Most in the army didn’t understand Tuo Bagui’s strategy of maintaining forces in Hedong, pressuring Luoyang without launching a real attack, but they were accustomed to following his orders and dared not question them.

At most, they bitched under their breath during patrols, letting off steam.

"This is no winter quarters. I hear Luoyang is surrounded by mountains that break the wind—much warmer than our camp."

"Enough, don’t complain when you’ve got it good. Where we are now is still better than the frozen north," another soldier glared at him. "Once the supplies arrive, the king might even let us feast a few times to boost morale."

They had no worries about the supplies arriving safely.

Even if the Northern Wei lacked manpower and the supply convoy wouldn’t be as large as those in the south, they weren’t concerned.

The Shanxi region to the north was their backyard. Though Pingcheng had once been breached by Murong Chui, it had long been retaken, and the Murong clan had been driven out like rabid dogs. After Murong Chui’s death, Later Yan was finished.

—This was all something the Wei soldiers had witnessed firsthand.

So for the soldiers, as long as there were supplies, there was no need to worry about morale deteriorating from staying in this place.

Just then, the first soldier’s ears snapped to attention. "You hear that?"

Listen to what? The sound of hoofbeats coming from the north.

His eyes lit up. "Our men are here!"

The other soldier hurried out of the sheltered post with him, peering northward, but his expression remained puzzled. "That doesn’t sound right. A supply convoy wouldn’t be in such a hurry..."

The sound wasn’t what it should be.

"Maybe there’s another order."

Above their paygrade.

"Hold up—!"

The other soldier’s eyelids twitched as he let out a startled cry.

He had far more battlefield experience than his companion, and now an instinctive sense of danger seized him. Before even moving forward, he yanked his comrade down, dragging them both into a snow-covered ditch—a small sentry post nearly invisible unless one looked closely.

"You—"

The other man got a mouthful of snow, about to curse, when a column of riders rushed past not far from them. His stiffened body was shoved down again by his companion. Straining to peer through the snow, he was shocked to see that these riders weren’t Wei troops—but a group of Han Chinese, led by a young general wielding a Black Lance.

The Black Lance tilted, catching the light, its dark gleam boring into them.

For a moment, the snow down their necks was nothing compared to the chill rising from their feet.

The Black Lance was already infamous among them. General Li Li had previously alerted all sentry posts to watch for this very weapon while pursuing the enemy. They’d know that weapon anywhere.

After over ten days without news of this group, the Wei Army had assumed they’d died in those mountains. Yet here they were—not only alive but hitting them from behind!

Only after the hoofbeats faded did the two soldiers clamber out of the snow pit, their faces white as the snow.

"What do we do now?"

The one who’d pulled them down answered quickly, "You go track their route, see what’s behind them. I’ll sound the alarm to the next sentry post."

He couldn’t help but suspect—if the Ying Army had come from the north, their supplies might be in trouble!

In their panic, he hadn’t gotten a clear look, but gut instinct from a hundred battles told him the horses the Ying Army rode… were their own damn horses!

This was real bad.

"I—I’ll go now!"

The soldier sprinted toward his hidden mount, almost face-planting as he mounted. After steadying himself, he kicked his horse into a gallop north.

But the fool’s hope he carried with him was shattered by what he saw.

When he returned south to rejoin his comrade, he brought nightmare news.

"...It’s bad."

We’re screwed!

"Our supplies were all torched mid-transport... The horses they could take, they rode off. The ones they couldn’t, they cut down where they stood. And our weapons—dumped in the ravine."

They could be retrieved, but the blood and sweat required to do so was a lost cause.

And this gods-forsaken weather was the last thing suited for such a task!

Li Li clenched his jaw until his molars ached. "Burn, burn, burn—do they have any other damn tricks?!"

First, a fire in Yecheng. Now another in their rear.

Would the Ying Army ever stop?

But rage aside, he knew full well—whether it was drowning us or burning us, as long as it worked, the means be damned.

Yet this move by the Ying Army… was a goddamn masterstroke!

He, who had always been exceedingly arrogant and prided himself as a trusted confidant of the Prince of Wei since the uprising, now had no choice but to kneel before Tuo Bagui like a whipped dog, painstakingly reporting the current situation in full.

"So you still failed to stop them?" Tuo Bagui clenched his fists and asked coldly.

"...Yes." Li Li lowered his head.

It was his incompetence.

Upon receiving the scouts' report, he had immediately launched a pursuit. But for the Ying forces, having already endured every hardship, now equipped with horses and supplies and having returned south of the Taihang and Wangwu Mountains, it was far easier to slip pursuit than before—how could they possibly fall into Li Li's encirclement?

They no longer even suffered from their previous disadvantage in cavalry mounts!

By the time news of the northern supplies going up in flames reached them, they had already lost track of Liu Yiming and her group once more.

Tuo Bagui suppressed his rage again and again, but in the end, he could no longer contain it and slammed his fist onto the table. "With the provisions burned, our entire strategy is ruined. Even if we refuse to retreat, we have no choice but to withdraw!"

No one could make up for such a blunder, and Yong'an and her forces would certainly not let this opportunity slip.

The only thing he could do now was one final move.

If Yong'an sought to attack him now, he would fight with every last breath to make her understand—why you never corner a beaten enemy!

...

Just as the Wei Army was reorganizing, the young officer who had replaced Gong Sunlan as the General of the Black Lance had already crossed the river at Pingyin, traversed Mount Mang, and returned to Luoyang.

Though her legs shook with exhaustion as she dismounted and steadied herself, a certain strength still upheld Liu Yiming, allowing her to stand tall and proud, delivering the news that had thrown the Wei Army into disarray and sent Luoyang into celebration.

She—had burned the enemy's provisions!

This was all her.

Her long disappearance had not been due to reckless overreach leading to capture, but rather her resourcefulness and bravery in blazing her own trail—dodging pursuers and striking gold!

"Your Majesty!" Liu Yiming, like a homing pigeon, approached Wang Shenai.

The support she had received in the Pingyin region convinced her that all along the Yellow River's defenses, the Emperor had been anxiously awaiting. Thus, she refused to mention a word of her injuries or the hardships of the past ten days. She only wanted to ask one meaningful question.

"Your Majesty! I’ve clipped the turtle’s tail—now, can we go after him now?"

She wondered if her merits this time would get her the chance to lead an army independently and pursue the Wei forces.

Hearing Liu Yiming's question, Wang Shenai stared north, her mind unclouded by the sudden good news.

Whether to attack was not a question to be answered lightly.

Tuo Bagui had once been pushed to the edge by Mu Rongchui, yet even the dying warlord had failed to crush him—proof enough that he was no pushover.

This much was clear from his responses under the celestial omens.

A man who spits in fate’s face surely had his own convictions.

Moreover, she now had an even bigger fish to fry.

Before Liu Yiming's return to Luoyang, all strategic passes had wrapped up their last recruitment drives. Three days prior, Huan Xuan had already arrived at Hulao Pass with the first wave of refugees and was now marching toward Luoyang.

Her goal of reinforcing Luoyang had been achieved. More importantly, she needed to stabilize her rear.

But to let Tuo Bagui slip away untouched would be letting him off too easy.

"We’ll hit him—just not how you think," Wang Shenai replied. "Besides sending Tuo Bagui another parting 'gift,' we shall do one more thing."

She gestured to an attendant nearby. "Later, I shall personally pen a letter and send it—to Yao Xing."

A letter to the King of Qin? Liu Yiming was puzzled.

Wang Shenai continued, "Tell him I cordially invite him to join me in watching Tuo Bagui's retreat!"

How Yao Xing would react upon receiving this letter, Liu Yiming could not guess—but it was unlikely he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled.

As the first to raise arms, Yao Xing had suffered crippling losses in this campaign.

Perhaps Tuo Bagui's misfortunes would ease his pain, but such comfort would be short-lived...

For he neither wished to see Tuo Bagui rise in power nor Yong'an emerge as the sole victor!

"Does Your Majesty think he will come?" Liu Yiming asked as she followed Wang Shenai back.

"Whether he comes or not, our goal is already achieved," she replied. "General Huan could flank Yao Xing’s rear, and you could bypass Mount Wangwu to burn Tuo Bagui’s provisions. This proves that alliances under the celestial omens not only fail to achieve their intended purpose but worsen their plight. Tell me—"

"Would Yao Xing dare ally with Shu so easily now?"

This was a cutting question.

Compared to the shortsighted Qiao Zong, who sought only to rule in Shu, Tuo Bagui was undoubtedly a real leader for these times—a far more competent ally.

If cooperation with him had led to this, then alliances with others would be as flimsy as rice paper.

Yao Xing had only two choices.

Either double down on the alliance, ensuring perfect sync—but risk Yong'an exploiting internal discord.

Or act independently, allowing her to take them down one by one.

"It depends on what Yao Xing chooses."

"A clever man, faced with this unexpected invitation, might even have thoughts we cannot foresee."

Liu Yiming suddenly understood. "So that’s it."

Thus, sending the letter to Yao Xing first would pay off way more than directly attacking Tuo Bagui’s rear!

"I still have so much to learn..."

"But haven’t you already proven yourself a capable commander?" Wang Shenai met her gaze earnestly. "From your arrival in Luoyang till now, you’ve amazed me four times now."

Liu Yiming’s heart trembled. She lowered her head, ticking off on her fingers. "...Saving General Huan counts as one, killing Yao Xu counts as one, burning the Wei Army’s provisions counts as one."

She hesitated, then looked up. "And the fourth?"

"You made it back alive."

Perhaps it was the warmth and candlelight in the room that cast a gentle glow in the Emperor’s eyes, softening her voice until it blurred with Liu Yiming’s vision. "Since ancient times, those with the talent for command have always outnumbered those who live to become commanders. Yiming, I am glad you returned."

Wang Shenai was truly delighted.

Though the next moment, she found herself fighting a smile.

This Young General, who had marched in with such vigor, now knelt before her like a child, sobbing like a kid, her thick brows knotted together. "...Your Majesty, I almost thought I wouldn’t make it back. But then I thought—"

She sniffled, "What if I died, and later the Wei state discovered that Your Majesty's general who could strike at their rear was gone? How smug they would be. I won't let that old fool have the satisfaction."

"And also, my mother and father have been married for so many years, and I'm their only child. I can't afford to die."

"...I also have to let them know who is truly Your Majesty's most trusted General Liu."

She lacked the experience compared to Liu Yu and Liu Laozhi, but as this operation proved, unorthodox methods can still succeed.

Wang Shenai patted her back, only to make her cry even harder. "Your Majesty, I know a general should maintain dignity, but..."

"It's fine. You're not the only one who's cried in front of me."

Wang Shenai sighed inwardly, feeling the pressure from the Celestial Screen dissipate somewhat amid these sobs. Compared to her, who was nearly thirty before transmigrating, the one before her was truly still a child.

Suddenly, the crying stopped, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She then saw Liu Yiming lift her head, quickly wiping away her tears, and ask with curiosity, "Who else cried? My father or General Huan?"

Wang Shenai: "..."

Seriously? What kind of impression had she given Liu Yiming to make her think Liu Yu and Huan Xuan could cry like this?

Just imagining that scene was unbearable!

Wang Shenai's silence made Liu Yiming realize, "Oh, it must be the one who can’t stand cilantro."

Emperor Yong'an massaged her temples in exasperation, unsure whether to mention that the seemingly trivial cilantro dispute had, despite Chu Lingyuan's apparent concession, sparked a rivalry between the younger generation in other areas.

...

But in Jiangnan at this moment, that young woman—who had once wept over the sudden calamity that befell her family, who had cried upon witnessing Yong'an's regicide and realizing her own uncertain path ahead—now faced impending storms and perilous times without shedding a single tear.

She wouldn't cry so easily.

After being secretly escorted out of Jiankang by Xie Daoyun, Chu Lingyuan didn’t dare delay even a second, racing toward Kuaiji with a few attendants in tow.

In all her years, aside from accompanying the Emperor to Jingkou, she had never traveled so far or borne such a heavy duty.

Yet as she rode eastward, she thought to herself how fortunate it was that she had learned to ride from the Emperor—now that skill proved invaluable. Her initially slow start seemed to gain an inexplicable momentum, propelling her forward faster and faster.

The night wind howled, and snow fell ceaselessly.

While others were confined to the city by curfew, the sound of her horse's hooves alone broke the nighttime stillness.

Undoubtedly, she had acted a step ahead of those noble-born schemers plotting revolt.

Xie Daoyun and Liu Muzhi had prepared in advance in Jiankang and should still be able to keep things under control.

She didn’t need to worry about the situation in Luoyang or whether Jiankang would soon descend into open warfare—she only needed to fulfill her mission.

By the time she stood before Liu Laozhi’s military camp, she had changed into an official robe custom-made with the Emperor’s approval, holding a transfer order in hand.

Though young, her childish face wore a look of steely resolve as she strode through the camp toward Liu Laozhi, who stood waiting outside the tent.

As an "imperial envoy" delivering the decree, Chu Lingyuan carried herself impeccably.

To the soldiers, this envoy from the court moved with measured strides and calm demeanor, as if the Celestial Screen’s effects had not reached the capital—or as if any turbulence could be easily suppressed.

It was as if an unspoken assurance hung in the air: Emperor Yong'an, who dared to incite the people to rebel, would surely triumph in Luoyang.

The uneasy spirits in the camp gradually calmed with every step she took.

Chu Lingyuan couldn’t say whether this was her imparting what she had learned from Xie Daoyun. After entering the tent with Liu Laozhi, she coolly declared the subsequent deployment of troops.

"General Liu, please continue securing the southeast. General Sun shall accompany me back to Jingkou. Once troops are mobilized, we will stand ready to advance on Jiankang."

"General Sun? Which General Sun?"

Without hesitation, Chu Lingyuan replied, "Obviously, your deputy general, Sun Wuzhong."

That was what Historian Xie had instructed.

But as soon as she spoke, a voice came from the corner: "But the order didn’t specify only one General Sun, did it?"

"...?" She turned and realized two familiar faces lurked in the corner.

She had been so focused on delivering the decree and keeping up her official façade that her attention had been entirely on the transfer order and Liu Laozhi—she hadn’t noticed anyone else.

Only now did she see that the camp wasn’t Liu Laozhi’s alone.

Sun En, who had just returned from the sea and barely settled in, jumped up. "See? There are two Suns here. No playing favorites, eh?"

One was him, the other his uncle Sun Tai—both keen to prove their worth to the Emperor. Especially his uncle, who, if not for his unofficial status and having fled overseas after the Celestial Screen exposed their rebellion, would have spoken up even quicker.

Sun Wuzhong’s eye twitched as he angrily hauled Sun En back. "Didn’t you hear the order? It’s General Liu’s deputy general, General Sun—not you, the Emperor’s Personal Guard."

What was he even fighting for?

Sun Tai cut in smoothly, "But shouldn’t we return to the capital to report? Though the Emperor didn’t hold it against him for killing Wang Ningzhi, an explanation is still due. If the aristocratic families in the capital push for harsh reprisals, we can argue our case face-to-face."

Sun Wuzhong: "..."

Debate? With steel?

Recalling how Sun En had once rallied Celestial Masters followers to raid southern noble estates before anyone could react, he could easily imagine the bloodbath if they truly stormed into Jiankang like this.

Yet he had to admit—with such comrades and a ruler who united every kind of talent under her banner, facing the aristocracy no longer filled him with fear or hesitation, only eagerness.

He and Sun En exchanged a glance, then, as if competing, swiveled as one to Chu Lingyuan. "You decide. How many of us should go?"

Chu Lingyuan fell silent.

Her concern had been whether Liu Laozhi and Sun Wuzhong would obey the transfer order—not which General Sun to choose!

The Emperor never prepared her for this!