Chapter 65 An Old Friend No More

Chapter 65: An Old Friend, No Friend

"Long time no see."

Standing outside the cell was Chen Huan, his face etched with a complex, unreadable expression.

Duan Lingwen tried to push himself up, but the throbbing pain from his wound sapped his strength.

Chen Huan spoke again, "Your injury is severe. It's best not to move recklessly."

"You... weren't you on family leave?" Duan Lingwen struggled to lift his head, his eyes filled with confusion. Was there some hidden secret? How had Chen Huan ended up in the Yu Dynasty's camp?

Chen Huan avoided his gaze, falling silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone held a hint of condescension. "Let's not dwell on the past. I came today out of respect for our former bond. Do you have any unfulfilled wishes or last words you'd like me to convey to someone? I... will do my best to fulfill them."

Convinced that Chen Huan had truly defected to the Yu Dynasty, Duan Lingwen managed a slight smirk. With no intention of nostalgic conversation, he went straight to the point. "If you intend to kill me, why wait until now?"

He could have been granted a swift death on the battlefield.

Chen Huan turned his back. "It's... the Grand Tutor's orders. He wants to keep you alive, to use your life in exchange for Jing Su's surrender and the handover of military power."

Duan Lingwen almost burst out laughing but winced from the pain, a fine sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.

The Grand Tutor Chen Huan mentioned must be Xin Diao. He found it laughable—did Xin Diao truly overestimate his worth? Why would he believe Jing Su would abandon hundreds of thousands of soldiers and half the country for his sake alone?

"That's impossible," Duan Lingwen said with a laugh.

"Yes, it's utterly impossible," Chen Huan replied, his voice chillingly calm. "So, you will certainly die."

He slowly turned his head. The firelight illuminated half his face, while the other half remained shrouded in shadow, creating an eerie contrast. "You were born with mismatched eyes, a sign of demonic origin, sent to bewitch Jing Su and the rebels, bringing chaos to the world. Once news of Jing Su's refusal to surrender arrives, you will be publicly executed."

"They will say that only by eliminating you, the 'root of chaos,' will heaven's favor return, restoring the senses of all soldiers and civilians bewitched by demons, leading them to repent and return to the rightful rule of the Yu Dynasty."

Listening to this absurd rhetoric, Duan Lingwen showed no fear. Instead, he offered a faint, mocking smile. Enduring the searing pain in his shoulder, he straightened slightly. "My life or death means nothing in the grand scheme of the world. But the will of the people cannot be swayed by tales of 'demonic evils.'"

"Chen Huan, don't you find it ridiculous to use such methods to bolster a rotten and failing dynasty?"

"I don't care about the outcome," Chen Huan spread his hands wide. "Loyalty or treachery, good or evil—what does it matter? Whether I'm remembered gloriously or infamously, if I can leave a lasting mark in the history books, I'll have lived a life worth remembering. Don't you agree?"

Duan Lingwen could not agree with this idea. He only wanted to know one thing. "...Who are you, really?"

Chen Huan had never appeared in his past life. Moreover, while he claimed to be a mystic with foresight, many things suggested his predictions were merely recitations from a script.

He had always found Chen Huan strange. Only after regaining memories of his past life did he realize that almost everything Chen Huan said was based on the predetermined outcomes of that former life.

"You can call me Chen Huan, or you can call me... State Preceptor Chen." Chen Huan smiled. Now, he was no longer a low-ranking Sima in the Jing Army—he was the State Preceptor of the court, Chen Huan.

Clutching his injured shoulder, Duan Lingwen struggled to his feet. "Was it you behind the court's peace offering to Liu Zimu?"

A flash of surprise passed through Chen Huan's eyes. He hadn't expected Duan Lingwen to guess this. However, he saw no need to hide it and admitted freely, "Correct."

It was precisely because he facilitated the amnesty, giving the struggling Yu Dynasty a breath of respite, that the emperor had appointed him State Preceptor.

"Why?" Duan Lingwen truly couldn't understand. During their time in the military camp, they had never treated Chen Huan unfairly. Why was Chen Huan opposing them at every opportunity?

"I've already given the reason." Chen Huan's motivation was simple: if he couldn't be Jing Su's friend, he would become his enemy.

Perhaps, with luck, he could indeed become a capable minister who saved the dynasty from collapse, a pillar supporting the restoration of the Yu Dynasty's sovereignty. Wouldn't that be another way to leave his name in history?

Chen Huan took a few steps forward. Perhaps to lessen his guilt, he said, "Blame your parents for giving you such an appearance. Think about it—how much injustice have you suffered over the past twenty years because of these unusual eyes? Wouldn't you prefer to be an ordinary person in your next life?"

Duan Lingwen remained silent. He quietly edged closer to Chen Huan, intending to take him hostage and escape the prison. But at that moment, a figure entered and whispered something into Chen Huan's ear.

Then, without even a glance at Duan Lingwen, Chen Huan hurriedly turned and left.

The cell door locked, and the surroundings plunged back into dead silence.

Duan Lingwen slumped weakly against the wall and sat down, his fingers digging tightly into his palms. He stiffly raised his eyes to look around—trapped like a rat, with no escape.

He hadn't died on the battlefield but would instead die at the hands of someone he once trusted.

He wasn't afraid of death, but he felt some regret.

In the dim dungeon, Duan Lingwen slowly curled up, burying his head in his knees.

***

Inside the Commander's Manor of Shangjun.

"Jing Su is willing to exchange several territories, including Wancheng, for Duan Lingwen?" Chen Huan's face showed utter disbelief.

The offer even included provisions, horses, and the Jing Army's retreat to Yingyang, all for the exchange of prisoners of war.

Having campaigned for many years, Liu Zimu had seen numerous prisoner exchanges. The enemy's concessions were highly advantageous—simply returning an insignificant Shuang'er could allow them to seize Wancheng without bloodshed. Why not agree?

"I disagree," Chen Huan stated.

Liu Zimu was displeased. "What does State Preceptor Chen mean?"

The weight Duan Lingwen held in Jing Su's heart indeed exceeded Chen Huan's expectations, but it didn't shake his resolve. From a tactical perspective, Liu Zimu saw releasing a prisoner in exchange for provisions and cities as reasonable.

But Chen Huan knew deeply that in terms of understanding people's hearts, Liu Zimu was no match for Jing Su, and in strategy, he was even more lacking.

Chen Huan spoke calmly, "The Yu Dynasty's turmoil and the people's panic stem not from the ruler's lack of virtue, but from demonic disturbances disrupting the Mandate of Heaven. What we must do is give the world an explanation."

"What explanation?"

"Eradicate the demonic evil and uphold orthodoxy." Chen Huan said meaningfully, "Sacrificing a demon who bewitched the rebels will show the world that the Mandate of Heaven has returned to orthodoxy. Then everyone will say Jing Su rebelled only because he was bewitched by a demon."

Liu Zimu stood frozen, a chill rising unexpectedly from the soles of his feet. He had fought half his life, seen mountains of corpses and seas of blood, but never heard such... cutting rhetoric.

If their battlefield was one of blades and physical combat, what Chen Huan described was a war for people's hearts.

The term "demonic evil" was like a plague, capable of killing without a trace.

"...State Preceptor, what a ruthless tactic." Liu Zimu couldn't help but feel admiration. Previously, he had advocated making a feint across the river while the main force launched a surprise assault from Dongjun. But Chen Huan had confidently stated that Jing Su would easily see through his plan.

Sure enough, Chen Huan had been right.

The message from Shangjun reached Wancheng.

Jing Su's face was deathly cold. He immediately ordered another letter drafted, allowing the enemy to set the terms. This approach clearly laid bare his vulnerability, but he could no longer care.

"Master!" Deng Tong urgently said, "This must not be done! Once this precedent is set, our army will be at a complete disadvantage!"

Seeing Jing Su's tense expression, clearly unreceptive to any advice, Deng Tong felt both anxious and pained, overwhelmed by boundless guilt. He knelt to plead for punishment, saying solemnly, "This general is incompetent! I failed to protect the Lady, allowing her to fall into enemy hands. I deserve a thousand deaths for this crime! But I beg you, Master... to consider the bigger picture."

Jing Su knew Deng Tong's words were entirely reasonable, but his heart could no longer remain calm. "Deng Tong, you're dismissed for now..."

"Sir."

Deng Tong wanted to say more, but seeing Jing Su turn his back and wave his hand dismissively, he had no choice but to bow and retreat in resignation.

Inside the room, Jing Su’s expression darkened severely. He clenched his fist and slammed it against a stone pillar, allowing blood to trickle slowly down the pillar from the back of his hand.

He should have realized it sooner...

From the moment Liu Zimu accepted the amnesty offer, things had slipped beyond control.

He had always regarded Liu Zimu as his primary opponent. All his wargaming and troop deployments were based on his understanding of Liu Zimu’s military habits. He thought he had seen through his opponent’s strategies, but he never expected that the player moving the pieces had shifted unnoticed.

His opponent was no longer just Liu Zimu alone.

***

Back at the military camp.

Deng Tong walked toward the tent with a heavy expression. Before he could get close, someone rushed over in a hurry. "General, you’re finally back! The people from the Feiyu Battalion and the Xianqiang Battalion have come to blows!"

Deng Tong’s face darkened, and he quickened his pace. Before he even reached the tent, he could hear the sound of intense arguing inside.

Wen Teng from the Xianqiang Battalion had several bruises on his face. The veins on his forehead bulged as he raged, "I’ve said it—it wasn’t me! I, Wen Teng, swear to heaven, I would never make a move against the Lady! That night, I was engaged on the left flank—many of our brothers saw me!"

He couldn’t understand why everyone was blaming him for the Lady’s capture.

"Bullshit!" A Nong’s eyes were bloodshot. "Someone saw it with their own eyes—you took out a crossbow and shot Duan Lingwen, then melted into the ranks. Did you think you could just act like it never happened?"

After the retreat, Wen Teng had been interrogated for several days. But there were witnesses who could testify that he had indeed been stationed on the left flank to hold off the enemy that night. Moreover, he had sustained a minor injury on his arm that evening, and several people could attest to it.

The situation had grown murkier.

Suddenly, another voice cut in from the crowd, tinged with uncertainty and fear: "I... I think... I saw him on the right flank..."

According to the battle formations, the troops holding off the enemy on the right flank that night were from another battalion. As a Jing family veteran, even if the formations had temporarily scattered, it was impossible for Wen Teng to have ended up on the right side.

Everyone’s gaze turned to the speaker.

"Impossible! Unless I have the ability to be in two places at once!" Wen Teng insisted firmly—it couldn’t have been him.

A Nong roared furiously, "Stop lying!"

With that, he was so enraged that he went for his sword.

Just then, Deng Tong shouted sternly, "How dare you! Do I need to remind you what the penalty is for unauthorized fights in the army?"

"Guards! All those involved in today’s fight, regardless of the reason, will receive fifteen strokes of the military cane!" Deng Tong ordered.

A Nong gritted his teeth. "General Deng, I accept the punishment! But we, the Feiyu Battalion, share a bond like brothers with Duan Lingwen. Today, we just want an explanation."

Others chimed in agreement. No one wanted to suspect their own comrades, but the facts were what they were. If Duan Lingwen hadn’t dropped his guard around those close to him, how could he have been shot and injured, and how could he have fallen into enemy hands?

Wen Teng shoved away the person supporting him and staggered forward, falling to his knees with a thud. "General! I swear I never betrayed the Lady! I know how well the Lady treated us! Now that he’s in enemy hands, I... I wish I could suffer in his place!"

He slammed his fist against his chest, his eyes suddenly reddening: "I’d rather have died on the battlefield that night than carry this blame now, labeled a turncoat by everyone!"

He looked up at Deng Tong and pleaded, "General! I accept this punishment! Let the punishment fall on me alone! I only ask that you investigate the truth as soon as possible and catch the real spy who harmed the Lady!"

When he finished, the crowd fell silent.

Deng Tong said gravely, "Military discipline is military discipline—it’s not a game! All those involved in today’s brawl will be punished according to military law, not a single stroke less! Take them away and proceed with the sentencing!"

"Yes!"