Chapter 50 Mutual Deception

Chapter 50 The Deception

Jing Su led a squad of cavalry ahead to scout the route.

Deng Tong rode alongside him. With Qian Ling’s troops close behind, he couldn’t speak too explicitly, only hinting vaguely, “If an ambush were laid here… I fear we would be trapped from both ends.”

In other words, if Meng Ru had set an ambush in this treacherous valley, the first to bear the brunt would be the few hundred soldiers of the Jing Army.

Jing Su lifted his gaze to the sky. Dark clouds were gradually gathering, and the sky was growing dim—it seemed a storm was brewing.

He gently nudged his horse’s flank and ordered the troops to advance more quickly.

Just as the main force entered the depths of the valley, countless eyes watched them from the shadows atop the steep cliffs on both sides.

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

A scout in light armor crouched low and reported to the main commander, Meng Kan, who stood beside him, “General, everything is ready. This time, we’ll ensure they come but never return!”

Meng Kan, a kinsman of Meng Ru, was the commanding officer of this ambush.

His eyes fixed on Qian Ling, Jing Su, and the others ahead. He raised his hand slightly and commanded, “Attack!”

At his order, battle cries erupted from both sides of the cliffs. Countless large rocks and logs were pushed down by the ambushing soldiers, splitting the main army in two and cutting off the front from the rear.

Qian Ling turned back in horror to see the retreat route blocked off. The path ahead was sealed by a dark, overwhelming force, while the more than ten thousand soldiers at the rear were cut off.

They had been ambushed!

“What is going on?!” Qian Ling exclaimed, both shocked and furious, as he spurred his horse toward Jing Su.

“Meng Ru is exceedingly cunning. He likely changed his mind at the last moment and intends to wipe us all out here!” Jing Su’s expression was grave. He looked at Qian Ling and said solemnly, “With the enemy before us, there’s no use dwelling on the reasons! Our only hope is to join forces, charge forward, and fight like hell to break out and seize a chance of survival!”

Qian Ling’s mind was in turmoil. As he watched Meng Ru’s main forces surge out from the narrow pass ahead and glanced back at the blocked retreat route and the cut-off rear troops unable to reinforce them, a chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He had been too trusting of Meng Ru.

What he couldn’t understand was why Meng Ru would ambush them here when they had no prior conflict.

“Kill—!”

Meng Ru’s army charged forward fiercely. Qian Ling had no time to ponder how all of this had come to be.

In an instant, the clash of blades filled the air, and the stench of blood spread everywhere.

Qian Ling swung his sword to deflect an incoming spear and, with a backhand strike, knocked an enemy soldier off his horse. He roared toward the cliffs above, “Meng Ru! You dishonorable, treacherous villain! Why did you go back on your word?! Our army is passing through as agreed—why did you set up an ambush and attack us?!”

His furious roar cut through the sounds of battle and reached the cliffs above.

The deputy general up there looked equally bewildered and shook his head. “I don’t know! I never heard our lord mention any agreement about granting passage!”

Down below, Qian Ling had no choice but to curse them as a bunch of shameless scoundrels.

Meng Kan, assuming Qian Ling was trying to disrupt their morale, ordered, “A hundred in gold to anyone who takes the head of an enemy general!”

Where there is great reward, there will be brave men.

The soldiers under Meng Ru, already holding the advantage of terrain and well-rested, launched an even fiercer assault.

“General! We will protect you and break through!” Several of Qian Ling’s trusted officers gathered around him.

“No!” Qian Ling waved his arm vehemently, filled with grief and indignation. “The army is trapped. As the commanding general, how can I flee alone? If I were to survive in such a cowardly way, how could I ever show my face to Lord Lu again?”

Meng Ru’s actions were truly an outright outrage!

Qian Ling pointed at the swarming enemy troops and shouted hoarsely, “Soldiers! Follow me and slay the enemy!”

Only a fight to the death could open a path to survival.

No one wanted to die here for no reason. Inspired by their general’s bravery, the surrounded vanguard’s morale rallied, and they engaged in a desperate struggle against Meng Ru’s main forces.

For a time, the narrow mountain path was littered with blood and carnage—the battle was extremely fierce.

Meanwhile, the soldiers cut off at the rear, lacking unified command and leadership, grew disorganized under the assault. Their morale shattered, and they scattered in all directions.

Amid the chaos, Jing Su, still not fully recovered from old wounds, failed to dodge in time and sustained new injuries.

Fortunately, they were only minor wounds.

Most of the enemy’s focus was on Qian Ling and the others fighting desperately.

After intense fighting, corpses lay strewn across the mountain path.

Qian Ling led from the front but was unfortunately surrounded by several enemy soldiers fighting recklessly. He suffered multiple wounds, his battle robe soaked in blood. Eventually, exhausted, he was pierced through the chest by a long spear and died a heroic death on the battlefield!

Meng Kan, watching from higher ground, was overjoyed to see Qian Ling fall in battle and immediately felt certain of victory.

Just then, the mountain wind grew stronger, and soon, raindrops as large as beans began to fall.

Before long, a heavy downpour drenched the area, instantly obscuring the vision of both sides. The ground beneath their feet became a quagmire, making combat difficult for everyone.

Amid this chaos, a figure lifted Qian Ling’s general’s banner high.

It was Deng Tong.

His voice cut through the rain and the sounds of battle, clearly reaching every surviving soldier: “Soldiers, listen up! Follow us to avenge our general!”

“Avenge the general!”

Meng Kan’s side held the advantage of terrain but had failed to account for the weather. In the heavy rain, a moment’s carelessness could mean a sword slash across the throat.

Even though their general Qian Ling had fallen and his forces had suffered heavy casualties, the remaining soldiers, fueled by cries of battle, gradually began to show signs of breaking through.

For this ambush, Meng Kan had brought ten thousand troops—under normal circumstances, such terrain should have been enough to trap and annihilate them. But no one had expected a heavy rain to turn the tide.

However, what surprised Meng Kan most was the urgent report from scouts: nearly several thousand soldiers of the Jing Army were rushing toward them.

“How… how is this possible?!” Meng Kan frowned deeply. How could the Jing Army have known about the ambush here? And how did they arrive so timely?

How could it be such a coincidence?

It was simply unbelievable!

“General, given the current situation… what should we do?” the deputy general asked.

Meng Kan gritted his teeth. “Retreat!”

*****

The rain had ceased, inside the military tent.

“You’re acting recklessly again!” Jing Xun was frantic with anger. “Haven’t you learned your lesson from the stronghold incident?”

By the time he learned that Jing Su was about to put himself in danger again, it was already too late to stop him.

In such a treacherous terrain, with favorable conditions, even eight hundred soldiers could take on ten thousand with room to spare.

“Uncle,” Jing Su managed a faint smile onto his pale face. “In warfare, there’s no such thing as a surefire strategy. Battle opportunities vanish in an instant, and I had no choice but to take this gamble.”

Jing Xun snorted coldly, clearly fuming.

Jing Su continued, “Uncle, we must quickly rally Qian Ling’s remaining forces. Using the cause of avenging our commander, we should lead the army to capture Xingyang in one fell swoop.”

“I’ve got this handled,” Jing Xun replied. He had already made preparations but was waiting for the right moment. “Meng Ru broke faith and ambushed our allies. That reason is more than enough.”

He looked at Jing Su, his voice resolute. “But for this campaign, I will take command personally. You are to stay put at the estate and focus on recovering from your injuries!”

Seeing this, Jing Su could only nod in reluctant agreement.

By the end of September.

The campaign came to an end with Meng Ru’s defeat. He fled north with his remaining forces to throw in his lot with Liu Zimu.

With this, the Jing Army had swallowed up several southwestern factions, and their forces had swelled to a hundred and fifty thousand troops.

Meanwhile, Lu Xin of Jianghuai had needlessly lost twenty thousand men. Finally, he saw Jing Su’s true colors—the man had never had any intention of submitting!

When Zhao Quan returned, beaten within an inch of his life, he wept bitterly and cursed up a storm at Jing Su, Duan Lingwen, and the others for their treachery, even embellishing the details. To make matters worse, the control over Yunmengze had been retaken by the Jing Army.

At this point, Lu Xin was out of options.

Should he cut ties with Jing Xun and his nephew? But he no longer had the means to confront them in battle.

There was no retreat; advance was beyond his capability.

In the end, Lu Xin decided to fortify Jianghuai, establish his rule along the riverbanks, declare himself ruler of the region, and style himself as the King of Jianghuai.

Nanyang, a blacksmith’s shop.

The constant clanging of hammer on metal reverberated, nearly deafening.

The blacksmith, fully focused on his work, swung his hammer. Noticing the light at the doorway dim, he looked up to see a tall figure stepping inside slowly.

He recognized him—it was the man who had commissioned a sword from him three months earlier.

“I’m here for the sword.”

This person was none other than Jing Su.

*****

In October, the weather in Jiangling grew colder.

As usual, Duan Lingwen was inspecting the city defenses. Looking out at the distant mountains turning yellow outside the city, his mind began to wander.

It had been over four months since Jing Su left Jiangling.

Every day since Jing Su’s departure, Duan Lingwen had worried about his safety. It wasn’t until half a month ago, when news of victory arrived from Nanyang, that he finally felt relieved.

Suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from below the city walls.

Duan Lingwen snapped out of his thoughts, his heart skipping a beat. He looked down, but the spark of hope in his eyes died almost instantly. It was just an ordinary merchant caravan passing through.

The autumn wind blew, carrying a slight chill.

Silently, Duan Lingwen averted his gaze and turned back toward his residence.

As the cold set in, he grew pale.

Back at the residence, Xiao Fu had already prepared a warm tonic, waiting for him to return and drink it. But he waited most of the day.

Xiao Fu went to the backyard to warm up the medicine before bringing it to him. “Madam, this tonic has been simmering for hours. Please drink it while it’s still warm.”

“Mm,” Duan Lingwen nodded. He frowned, remained silent for a moment, and finally picked up the bowl.

The medicine didn’t seem to be working…

Still, he braved the bitterness and drank it sip by sip. The familiar bitter taste spread through his throat.

Xiao Fu brought over some honeyed dates and then left with the empty bowl.

Duan Lingwen glanced at the dates, reached out, but then withdrew his hand.

Perhaps from drinking too much of the tonic, the bitterness didn’t bother him as much anymore.

He lowered his gaze to his flat abdomen and lost himself in thought. The physician had said it wasn’t entirely impossible for him to bear children, but the hope seemed slim at best.

At night.

The candlelight flickered dimly. Duan Lingwen lay alone on the bed, wrapped in brocade blankets, restlessly turning. Gradually, he curled up, his consciousness blurring as he drifted into sleep.

The light faded.

It was that room, both familiar and strange.

He had dreamed countless times of writing a suicide note in this room.

But this time, he simply sat quietly by the windowsill, gazing absently at the leaves outside.

Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around him from behind.

He jerked back to awareness. As if realizing who it was, he didn’t turn around or speak, merely gazing stubbornly out the window.

“Have you thought it through these past few days?”

It was Jing Su’s voice.

“I… want to go home…” His throat felt dry and scratchy, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

Silence… a long silence.

A hand gripped his chin, forcing him to turn around.

Jing Su’s face came into view, his brow furrowed, his eyes slightly cold. “Not allowed.”

With those words, Jing Su leaned down and covered his mouth. It felt punishing—an invasion, giving no quarter. As their lips and tongues intertwined, a faint metallic, blood-like sweetness spread between them.

Jing Su had bitten his lip. As if realizing something, he paused for a moment, then his touch softened.

“No…” He pushed Jing Su away.

Before he could catch his breath, Jing Su seized his wrist and pressed him down onto the bed.

He let out a low cry of surprise, sinking into the bedding, and almost instinctively, he covered his abdomen with his hand.

But Jing Su didn’t seem to notice. He pressed his lips against his once more, as if trying to arouse his desire. His movements carried a tenderness that bordered on fondness, a stark contrast to his earlier dominance.

“Don’t…” He turned his head away, one hand pressing against Jing Su’s chest, pushing him back slightly.

Jing Su’s eyes darkened. He grabbed his wrist and pinned both his hands firmly against the headboard.

With both hands restrained, a wave of panic seized him. He looked up at Jing Su, his voice hoarse. “No… Jing Su, don’t…”

Jing Su tore off the cloth covering his left eye and placed a gentle kiss on his eyelid. “Last time… was two months ago. This time, I’ll be gentle, alright?”

A sharp, hidden pain in his abdomen sent pure panic through him. With all his strength, he pushed Jing Su off.

Caught off guard, Jing Su was shoved backward, his expression momentarily stunned. Then, it was replaced by an almost ferocious possessiveness, as if he wanted to devour him whole, pressing so close there was no room left to escape.

“Don’t…”

His voice was swallowed, leaving only fragmented sobs.

Hot tears fell from the corners of his eyes as he trembled, clutching his aching abdomen.

Seeing this, Jing Su embraced him from behind and, slowly but inexorably, claimed him.

At the same time, Jing Su’s hand covered his, making his presence unmistakable.

Through the thin abdominal wall, he could almost feel a pulse, yet he couldn’t feel… his child…

His… child?

Duan Lingwen jerked awake from the dream, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Breathing rapidly, his forehead was damp with cold sweat, strands of hair clinging to his cheeks.

In the dim light, he instinctively reached down to touch his abdomen, where the dream’s dull ache still lingered.

The heart-wrenching fear and despair from the dream felt etched into his soul, the lingering terror made him shiver. He slowly curled up, burying his face in his knees.

It… was just a dream, wasn’t it?

Yet his heart ached as if a chunk had been torn out.

How could a dream feel so real? It was as if he’d experienced an entirely different life in that dream.

And it all seemed connected to Jing Su.

Jing Su treated him so well in reality, so why was the Jing Su in his dream so different?

Duan Lingwen sat awake through the night, but no matter how he pondered, he couldn’t find an answer.

It wasn’t until dawn began to break that he finally closed his eyes.

Outside the city, the sound of galloping hooves.

Several swift horses cut through the morning mist, led by Jing Su, who had rushed day and night from Nanyang.

The night dew was heavy, and his clothes were damp with morning moisture, but he barely noticed.

Passing through the city gates, he rode straight for the estate.

Normally, at this hour, Duan Lingwen would already be up, perhaps practicing with his sword in the courtyard.

But not this morning.

After some inquiries, he learned that Duan Lingwen had only just fallen asleep.

Though puzzled, Jing Su, travel-weary from his journey, quickly freshened up, changed his clothes, and then slipped quietly into the room.

The room was filled with soft light. On the bed, Duan Lingwen was curled up, facing away from him.