Hidden Shadow

Given the current situation, Ling Ziyue was still striving to destroy the enemy's explosive crossbows and escape this unfair battle.

The Liao army was already stronger than the Song Dynasty's forces. If the explosive crossbows couldn't be dismantled, Ling Ziyue might as well sigh, "Heaven has doomed the Great Song!"

"Dismantling weapons isn't a problem, but the issue is..." Lou Xiaowu shifted awkwardly in her seat, looking embarrassed. "My martial arts aren't very good, and more importantly..."

Ling Ziyue listened attentively.

"I'm not getting enough to eat," Lou Xiaowu whispered, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz, her face reddening to the tips of her ears.

Mo Sigui glared—this made it sound like he was mistreating her!

Ling Ziyue chuckled. As long as Lou Xiaowu had real skills, everything else was trivial. "I'll have the kitchen prepare a whole roasted lamb immediately. Last month, I intercepted two Liao nomadic groups and seized quite a few lambs—they're very tender."

Lou Xiaowu swallowed her drool and nodded eagerly, though she tried to maintain a composed demeanor.

Ling Ziyue arranged accommodations for the two before heading to his own tent. He needed to properly inquire about that mysterious expert—aside from him, no one could infiltrate the Liao army undetected. Destroying the explosive crossbows would still rely on his strength.

Chu Dingjiang gave Ling Ziyue only two impressions—mysterious. Cloaked in black, his voice suggested he wasn't old, at most middle-aged, yet speaking with him felt like conversing with a venerable elder.

Returning to his tent, Ling Ziyue saw An Jiu still standing by the door, hugging her bow. He asked softly, "How is that shadow unit member's injury?"

Chu Dingjiang had said it was nothing, but he hadn't emerged yet. Given An Jiu's way of thinking, she wouldn't consider that Chu might have lied to reassure her—she'd only think, "He needs time to recover."

"That's good." For now, Ling Ziyue didn't mention the request for help. Instead, he turned and ordered his subordinates to prepare a feast.

The Liao army's sudden retreat had been entirely due to the intimidation of Chu Dingjiang and An Jiu's arrow. Though Ling Ziyue breathed a sigh of relief, he felt no joy from the victory.

He temporarily relocated to another tent, carefully pondering the words of that mysterious shadow unit member.

Perhaps he had cared too much, leading to the Emperor's current wariness of him. But even if time rewound, he couldn't guarantee the Emperor wouldn't grow suspicious. The shadow unit member was right about one thing—since his intentions were for the nation and its people, he shouldn't obsess over personal reputation. Sometimes, there was no need to overly consider the court's or the Emperor's opinions. Under the court's oppression, he had endured humiliation and swallowed his pride, yet he hadn't seen any greater trust or regard from them! As long as he could defend the border, he should be domineering when necessary and cunning when required—no more blind loyalty. How many more years could Ling Ziyue protect the Great Song?

Enough. History would judge his merits and faults! All he asked was a clear conscience before heaven and earth!

Ling Ziyue tossed and turned until midnight before rising, throwing on his robe, and drafting an imperial memorial. The gist was: The border lacks provisions. Every meal is counted grain by grain, and the soldiers can't hold out on empty stomachs much longer. If no supplies are sent, they might as well all resign and return home! Let whoever wants to guard the border come and do it. This old man is done!

Once written, the long-suppressed frustration in his chest suddenly dissipated. After rereading it several times, he gritted his teeth and summoned a messenger, ordering an express delivery—eight hundred li in urgency—to the capital, Bianjing.In reality, Ling Ziyue wasn’t exaggerating. Now, every meal had to be carefully rationed, fearing they wouldn’t last until the imperial provisions arrived. The court was slow, but he couldn’t wait until they were truly counting grains of rice before urging them to act.

After sending off the imperial memorial, Ling Ziyue thought of his trusted generals who had died tragically and the countless battles fought over the years defending the border. Sleep eluded him, so he draped on his outer robe and stepped outside for some air.

He stood outside his tent for a while, but just as he was about to return, he noticed a figure standing like a statue at the entrance of another large tent, holding a bow. Pausing briefly, he walked over.

"Young lady, take a rest. I’ll have someone relieve you," Ling Ziyue said, wondering if there were no other Shadow Guards available—why was she the only one standing guard?

An Jiu pressed her lips tightly together and shook her head. She planned to stand watch for another hour. If Chu Dingjiang still showed no signs of movement by then, she would call Mo Sigui to take a look.

"If anything happens, don’t hesitate to find me." Ling Ziyue had lost countless comrades-in-arms over the years. Even the hardest-hearted man would be moved. To be able to do something for his brothers-in-arms was a rare opportunity for him.

"Young lady, that earth-shattering arrow of yours turned the tide. I, Ling, am deeply impressed." Even now, recalling that shot, Ling Ziyue remembered how it had sent his blood and qi roiling, as if his organs were about to shatter. "I, Ling, thank you and the shadow unit once again."

Whether it was the explosive crossbows or the arrows An Jiu had fired, both had far exceeded Ling Ziyue’s expectations. He considered himself well-traveled and knowledgeable, yet the martial artists of these two nations repeatedly shattered his perceptions. It was as if divine soldiers had descended from the heavens, making him acutely aware of his own insignificance and frailty.

This was also one of the reasons he had the courage to pressure the court. If they were already weak, how could they afford to hesitate? With such meager strength, how could they resist powerful enemies and defend the Great Song?

An Jiu couldn’t guess Ling Ziyue’s thoughts, but she could clearly sense his emotions.

After a moment of silence, just as Ling Ziyue sighed and prepared to turn back, An Jiu spoke. "In my life, I’ve rarely held anyone in high regard, but you, General, have earned my admiration."

Ling Ziyue stopped and turned. "I, Ling, do not deserve such praise from you."

An Jiu met his gaze and noticed that the general’s aura had weakened compared to their first meeting. Displeased, she replied coldly, "In terms of martial arts, you’re only at the eighth or ninth tier—the Crane Control Army is full of such men. But we are all ghosts who lurk in the shadows, while you are the blazing sun. If you cannot illuminate the Great Song, then vanish sooner rather than later. Don’t give people false hope."

Her words were harsh. Ling Ziyue understood the underlying meaning but disagreed with her perspective. "Hope and longing are what make a future possible. I, Ling, will spare no effort to fight for even a sliver of dawn for the people of the Great Song—even if it’s false."

There would always be those drawn to that glimmer of light, striving tirelessly. If enough such people gathered, perhaps hope could be turned into reality.

"Like in the desert, when you’re starving to death, and someone tells you there’s food ten li ahead—you’ll muster your last ounce of strength to reach it." As he spoke to An Jiu, Ling Ziyue cast aside his momentary self-doubt, realizing how trivial his earlier thoughts had been. He smiled. "Maybe after ten li, there’s another ten. But as long as we believe there’s food ahead, we can keep going. And perhaps, along the way, we’ll truly find a way to survive."An Jiu fell into deep thought. Ling Ziyue's explanation was straightforward and easy to understand—she agreed with it. She was simply pondering why she hadn't thought of it herself.

"This year, the Liao army has breached two of the Song's border cities, abducting over seventy thousand Song civilians, more than half of whom were women and children. Not to mention the grain, gold, and silver..." Ling Ziyue sighed, as if he wanted to say more but ultimately held back.

The Liao Kingdom was divided into northern and southern courts, with the southern court primarily governing the Han Chinese. The harsh climate of Liao made it difficult to sustain its population with local produce, and many perished during the long winters each year. One or two border cities weren't worth dispersing their forces to engage with the Song army—Liao had always set its sights on the fertile lands south of the Yellow River.

Ling Ziyue heard footsteps and turned to see Mo Sigui, clad in a long robe, strolling leisurely after a hearty meal, flanked by two plump half-grown tigers. One of them excitedly wriggled its chubby body and pounced toward An Jiu.

The tiger tugged at her pant leg, rolling around playfully. She bent down and scooped it up with one hand.

Cradled in her arms, the tiger immediately settled, comfortably narrowing its eyes and even yawning wide.

"General Ling," Mo Sigui greeted with a bow.

Ling Ziyue returned the courtesy before saying, "I have matters to attend to. If either of you needs anything, send someone to inform me."

"Absolutely, absolutely," Mo Sigui replied without the slightest hesitation.

After Ling Ziyue left, Mo Sigui rushed excitedly to An Jiu's side, peering into the tent. "I heard Chu Dingjiang is injured? How bad is it? When's he gonna die?"

An Jiu slowly turned her head, her dark eyes devoid of emotion as she stared at him. "A moment before you."

"Damn, that's harsh!" But Mo Sigui was pleased. "If I outlive him by even a moment, it's proof of my superior character."

An Jiu scoffed coldly. "The wicked live a thousand years; the good die young. If you want to compete in character, find someone who'll live longer. Slapping yourself in the face and calling it gilding won't earn my admiration—just my pity for your idiocy."

Then, remembering she might still need Mo Sigui to save Chu Dingjiang later, she paused and offered him a sincere suggestion: "If you want to change your fate, you'd better hope Chu Dingjiang outlives you." (To be continued...)