Chapter 80: Behind Me

Chapter 80: Behind

Yuan Rang rode a black horse, his figure swiftly darting through the streets.

His right hand gripped the reins tightly as he galloped, while his left hand carried the blood-stained head of a Hu man.

Yuan Rang arrived at the city gate without slowing his pace, tossing the severed head to Jiang Zhong, who followed closely behind, then taking a sword from his hands.

Jiang Zhong caught the still-dripping head with quick reflexes. Gazing at Bars' unclosed brown eyes—lifeless, filled with blood—he heaved his arm and hurled it toward the nearby Xiongnu cavalry like tossing an embroidered ball.

The heavy head traced a stark line of blood through the air, landing with a dull thud in the center of the battlefield.

Hooves and human bodies trampled each other, and Bars' head, with eyes wide open in death, shattered amidst the chaos, splattering thick, blood-streaked white matter.

Jiang Zhong laughed savagely: "Take it back!"

Yuan Rang casually flicked off the blood droplets on his hand, his thumb locking against the sword hilt. In an instant, the blade slid from its sheath, casting a stark, pale glint unique to a cold blade across his stern face.

He spurred his horse into the blazing battlefield, the air reeking of blood wherever he passed.

————

On the vast plain near the battlefield stood multiple camp tents, their dim interiors faintly revealing the dark silhouettes of people sitting listlessly inside.

These were the civilians urgently evacuated from the western city a few days prior.

No one could sleep.

Chen Shuoan was drenched in sweat from his frantic work, kneeling on the ground as he held a tent peg with his left hand and drove it deep into the earth with a hammer in his right.

He had been working for hours straight, and his tender hands were rubbed raw by the coarse hammer handle, forming large blood blisters that split open from the constant friction, blood caking his palms.

Those who had taken refuge here were all the old, the weak, women, and children.

The situation had been too rushed—the Shuobei Army had no time to properly settle these civilians before the Xiongnu timed their attack perfectly.

Chen Shuoan didn't dare pause for even a second. It was already deep into the night, and the temperature swung wildly between day and night in Shuobei; the biting wind that blew now was piercingly cold.

A child helping drag the ropes nearby let out a loud sneeze, wiping his runny nose roughly with his frozen little hand before continuing to work in silence.

Chen Shuoan stood up, pulling at the tent fabric on the ground, a dull ache radiating through his lungs with every breath.

He called out hoarsely to the women bustling around him: "Aunties, it's too cold now. You should squeeze into other tents with the kids—you don't want to catch a cold. With the war raging, it'll be even harder to get treated."

An older woman nearby smiled, quickening her pace: "You scholars are the ones who should rest properly. We're tough-skinned and hardy—the cold won't get us."

Chen Shuoan said nothing, draping the tent cloth over the assembled frame. Yang Zhizong, who had just finished his own tent nearby, ran over to lend a hand.

They had arrived at this plain that afternoon and had taken it upon themselves to be the pillars holding up the people's spirits.

The older woman kept chattering by Chen Shuoan's side: "Honestly, this war is a good thing. Those Xiongnu are always prowling around our lands, burning, killing, looting—sparing no evil, leaving everyone terrified and on edge."

"I say we just need to beat them until they submit so they stop causing trouble everywhere."

She let out a long sigh, though worry lingered in her eyes: "It's a shame about my animals. I raised them for years and couldn't bear to butcher them. I wonder if they'll survive this time."

Yang Zhizong wiped the sweat clinging to his face, stood on his tiptoes to carefully smooth out the tent fabric he had just laid, and comforted her: "Rest easy, Auntie. The court will surely look after the people."

"With battles flaring up all over Shuobei, once the relief funds from the higher-ups come down, they'll surely make up for the people's losses."

The older woman smiled: "If it weren't for you all, this whole crowd would have frozen to death."

"You scholars have kind hearts—you can talk big principles and still get your hands dirty. Once the court quells the chaos, I'll make my little rascal learn his letters too."

She pulled over the crouching child beside her and bowed to Chen Shuoan and the others: "Thank you, masters."

Yang Zhizong quickly stepped forward to help the mother and child up, gently brushing a blade of grass from the child's hair, a flush creeping up half his face as he stammered: "We're all family—no need to thank us."

"The soldiers fighting on the front lines are the ones who truly work hard."

"What we do isn't even one ten-thousandth of what they do."

……

Chen Shuoan crouched by the campfire, staring vacantly at the lively, dancing flames within.

Yin Qian stood behind him, his big hand clasping the back of his neck, kneading it gently to ease his stiff, tense muscles.

"It's cold out here. Go sleep in the tent."

Yang Zhizong popped his head out from the side, knowing exactly what he was worried about, and sat down beside him as well.

He crossed his legs, rubbed his hands together, and breathed warm air onto them.

"The prince is wise and valiant—nothing will happen to him. Don't worry too much."

Chen Shuoan's eyes were rimmed with red, his whole body actually trembling from worry. He lifted his face and sucked in a deep breath of the freezing air, his lungs suddenly searing with pain as he coughed uncontrollably.

Yang Zhizong quickly reached out to soothe his breathing, startled and frightened by the violent coughing fit that seemed like it might tear his lungs out.

"For heaven's sake, stop torturing yourself. If the prince comes back and sees you in this sickly state, we'll be in for a world of trouble."

Yin Qian: "..."

Chen Shuoan waved his hand, signaling he was fine, lowering his doe eyes, slightly reddened, his long lashes casting a fragile shadow across his fair, clean face, looking so pitiful it was heartbreaking.

Yang Zhizong caught a faint scent of blood in the cold air. Frowning, he used the firelight before him to see the bloody wounds on Chen Shuoan's hands, momentarily stunned.

"How did you get these?"

Chen Shuoan tilted his head in confusion at the question, as if only now noticing the terrible blisters on his hands. He stared blankly at the swollen, broken skin, remaining silent.

Yin Qian let out a soft "tsk," scooped up some ice water with an iron ladle, sat down on the open plain, placed the water on the iron rack over the flames to heat it.

Yang Zhizong gripped his wrist and examined it closely.

"There's rust sitting in the wounds," he said, no longer joking around, his brows furrowed tightly, as if he wanted to punch this dazed fool in the head. "Chen Qingle, aren't you in pain?"

Chen Shuoan lifted his swollen eyes, as if two and a half of his three souls had fled, and could only shake his head in a daze: "I don't feel it."

"You're full of shit," Yang Zhizong cut him off in a low voice. "I get one blister on my palm and I'm wincing like crazy. Your skin's broken and oozing pus, and you're telling me it doesn't hurt?"

Yin Qian remained silent, dipping his fingertip in to test the temperature, then picked up the iron ladle and poured the warm water over Chen Shuoan's blood-caked wounds.

Chen Shuoan jerked from the pain, but Yang Zhizong held him down.

The warm water sluiced over the torn flesh, washing away all the blood and pus pooled inside. The raw new flesh beneath flushed bright red with hot blood, and the rust floating on the surface dripped down with the water onto the grass, splashing up thick, heavy-smelling fresh blood.

Yang Zhizong released the frail body convulsing in pain under his grip and turned to walk toward the tent to find some clean, soft gauze.

He looked up at the blazing battlefield in the distance and let out a sigh toward Chen Shuoan.

"For the next few days, just sit tight and wait for the prince to personally wait on you."