Liang Qiang was no longer the green recruit from his first battle. Not only did he block the attack, but he also leaned back on his horse and thrust his long blade in retaliation.
The Xiliang soldier was struck. Though not fatally wounded, he fell from his horse and was trampled half to death by hooves.
But this didn't mean Liang Qiang was invincible. As soon as he straightened up on his saddle, another Xiliang soldier came slashing from behind.
This time, luck wasn't entirely on his side. He could only rely on instinct to swing his blade backward—
The clash of weapons mingled with a scream. Liang Qiang halted his spinning blade and turned his horse to see the Xiliang soldier lying dead on the ground—his good fortune held, for two soldiers stood guard at his flanks.
Was it because he was their Tuntian Captain?
Liang Qiang glanced at the two soldiers. Though he commanded this unit, he had been newly promoted and devoted himself entirely to martial training. He barely knew these men, couldn't even recall their names.
On the battlefield, the Xiliang soldiers held the advantage. Soldiers fell constantly—some killed by the enemy, others dying together with them. Liang Qiang took only a brief look before charging back into the fray. There was no time for distraction on the battlefield.
The soldiers following him were brave, but they weren't gods—just mortal men of flesh and blood. Soon, one fell from his horse during the assault.
Yet Liang Qiang remained unscathed by any fatal blows. When these two soldiers fell, others rushed to his side.
One, two, three, four—they came in endless succession. There were always soldiers protecting Liang Qiang. Rather than there to kill enemies, they seemed more like assistants ensuring his survival.
They cared nothing for their own lives, nor for battle formations. Their sole focus was Liang Qiang—blocking attacks for him, helping him slay foes.
This bizarre and frenzied slaughter continued until the last Xiliang soldier fell, leaving only five survivors on the entire battlefield.
Liang Qiang was covered in wounds, drenched in blood as if he'd bathed in it. But he was among those five—he had survived.
The ground trembled as cloud-like reinforcements finally arrived. Knowing the enemy force was large, the Captain had led the troops personally. Witnessing the scene, he exclaimed excitedly, "Brave warriors!"
He had expected to find only corpses, with the Xiliang soldiers victorious and gone.
Instead, this vanguard of fifty had slaughtered a hundred Xiliang soldiers—and there were survivors.
"Brave warriors!" the Captain called out. "State your names."
When Liang Qiang identified himself, the Captain's eyes lit up. "Liang Qiang! The one recently commended and promoted to Tuntian Captain? Is your father Liang the Major, renowned for his cunning strategies in the Left Wing Army?"
Liang Qiang confirmed it.
The Captain grew even more delighted, studying Liang Qiang with gleaming eyes. "Remarkable! Truly remarkable! Liang Qiang, will you join my command? I'll appoint you as a Junhou."
A Junhou—an officer leading at least five hundred troops.
To become a Junhou was to become a true commissioned officer.
"Liang Qiang, your valor and combat prowess are exceptional. I expect you to train troops as formidable as yourself—to become invincible."
He was brave and skilled in battle. This promotion was earned through his own merits. He wanted more military achievements, to become truly unstoppable and renowned. Liang Qiang stared at the blood staining his body, feeling every ache and wound, and tightened his grip on the long blade. He refused to let his gaze drop, avoiding the sight of corpses littering the ground.
Lifting his head, he declared loudly, "Liang Qiang will not fail your expectations, sir!"The captain laughed heartily, looking at the other four men. "Join my command, and you will all be rewarded."
The four responded loudly in agreement.
…
…
Liang Qiang stood in the military camp, gazing at the recovered corpses.
The bodies awaited a collective cremation, after which their ashes and personal effects would be sent to their respective families.
Their heads and faces were wrapped, obscuring their features. Each was covered with a military robe and bore an identification tag.
Liang Qiang examined the tags one by one.
"Captain Liang," a soldier called out beside him. "You should go tend to your wounds first."
From the battlefield recovery to their return, Liang Qiang had not rested, nor had he sought medical treatment. He still wore the blood-soaked military robe, steadfastly watching over his fallen comrades, a sight that drew sighs from the other soldiers and officers.
"That's just how the battlefield is," an officer specifically came over to console him. "Life and death are separated by an instant. One moment you're laughing together, the next, you're worlds apart."
"Don't grieve too much," a soldier added. "They fought for the country and the people—their deaths were meaningful. As soldiers, we've long been prepared for this day. We face death without fear and even find joy in it."
Liang Qiang thanked them. He naturally understood these truths, but what they didn't know was that many of these soldiers had died for him.
In truth, it should have been him lying there.
No, he should have died long ago, during his first battle. If not for those soldiers protecting him, he wouldn't have survived, let alone earned any merits or rewards.
At first, he thought it was just comrades helping each other—perfectly normal.
But once, twice, three times—every time he went into battle, someone shielded him.
Were these men particularly close to him? Not at all. Due to his sensitive status, he kept to himself in the army, maintaining only superficial relationships and no life-or-death bonds.
Was it because he was a platoon leader that soldiers voluntarily protected him? No, a platoon leader was a minor officer responsible for organizing ranks, not a commanding officer. He was no different from the regular soldiers. His death wouldn't affect the formation, and there was no need for soldiers to protect him to secure victory.
Many soldiers had died protecting him, and some survived. When he later thanked them and asked why they had done so, their attitudes were cold, insisting they were merely fighting the enemy and denying any special treatment.
Even a fool would know this wasn't normal, and he was no fool.
His enlistment had been arranged by someone. Could it be that his battlefield protection was also arranged by that person?
His father had told him that he had merely taken pity on a minor official from the northwest waiting pitifully outside the gate and spoken a word to have the guard let him in—nothing more. It wasn't as if he had saved the entire Cai family of seven or eight lives!
Leaving aside whether a single word was worth such repayment, how could that old acquaintance named Cai possibly have the power to command so many soldiers—and different ones at that? Wherever he went, even in temporarily assigned units before battle, soldiers guarded and aided him in combat.
Who could possibly achieve such a thing?
Not even Garrison General Chu Ling could manage it!
Liang Qiang wanted to ask his father, to tell him about this and see if he knew what was going on, but—
That would reveal that he wasn't truly brave and skilled in battle, that he hadn't earned his merits through his own efforts.
That in itself wasn't a big deal; his father was family, and knowing wouldn't be shameful.
But he feared his father's cautious nature might lead him to put a stop to it all. And if that happened—He couldn't guarantee whether he would return with such glory from the next battlefield, or if he would simply die there.
"Garrison General Liang!"
A shout from nearby interrupted Liang Qiang's reverie. He turned to see several officers waving at him.
"The heads of the Western Liang rebels have all been loaded onto carts," they called out loudly. "Captain's orders - you're to personally escort them to the Grand General's camp to display our victory."
To present their achievements at the Grand General's camp. Liang Qiang clenched his hands.
"Garrison General Liang, you should go quickly," the soldiers nearby urged him. "Tend to your wounds, then go show the Grand General's troops our bravery!"
His courage needed to be displayed for all to see. He couldn't lose all this. Besides, he wasn't lacking in bravery - he had truly fought and killed enemies on the battlefield.
All this was what he rightfully deserved.
Liang Qiang cupped his hands toward them: "Please see our brothers off for me. I'll go show the world the victory everyone bought with their lives."
The soldiers cheered in unison.
Amid the soldiers' shouts and the officers' respectful, smiling gazes, the blood-stained Liang Qiang strode forward, gripping his long sword.
......
......
Night enveloped the land, the capital's streets glittering like the Milky Way.
However, the busiest streets were now empty of pedestrians as squads of soldiers galloped through, clearing the roads clean.
Soldiers in armor and carrying weapons advanced slowly, surrounding a man riding a tall horse in their midst.
Deng Yi, dressed in red robes and wrapped in a black cloak, didn't admire the streets specially cleared for him. His thin eyes were slightly lowered, as if dozing or deep in thought.
Two officials accompanied him, looking quite satisfied with the emptied streets - back when the powerful Imperial Relatives like the Yang and Zhao families were at their peak, they could only use household servants to clear the way, but never empty entire streets.
With real power in hand, what Imperial Relatives couldn't accomplish, important ministers could achieve.
Speaking of Imperial Relatives—
"Sir," one official whispered, "the Xie family's arrogance still needs to be suppressed."
"Indeed," the other official nodded. "We can't let another Yang or Zhao family emerge."
Deng Yi, with his eyes still lowered, smiled: "I'd actually welcome another Yang or Zhao family. The previous princely rebellions, the current child emperor situation, and the Western Liang invasion - when traced back, all stem from the chaos caused by Imperial Relatives. Nowadays, the people despise Imperial Relatives most. If the Xie family oversteps, even with their century-old reputation, the world won't tolerate them."
The two officials exchanged glances and laughed: "Exactly, precisely so."
"That Xie Yanfang is cunning, experienced in handling affairs, and most skilled at cultivating a good reputation. Now that he's become Imperial Uncle, many commoners place the empire's heavy responsibilities on him, boosting his prestige even more."
"But the Xie family isn't just Xie Yanfang. Not to mention others, his brother Xie Yanlai shows quite the domineering attitude reminiscent of the Yang and Zhao families."
"This Xie Yanlai can even bewitch the Emperor."
Xie Yanlai? Deng Yi thought to himself. It's not the Emperor he's bewitching, but the Empress. Others might not know or care, but he understood clearly - that girl had known him since humble times, and knew that Xie Yanlai even better.
Regarding Chu Zhao's attitude toward Xie Yanfang, he could definitely say she didn't trust him, but he was certain Chu Zhao regarded Xie Yanlai differently.
Why was that? Did she want to cultivate another Imperial Uncle? To make the Xie family fight among themselves—
As he pondered, firecrackers suddenly exploded, particularly jarring in the quiet streets.
The two officials jumped in fright. Deng Yi opened his eyes.
Soldiers had already gone to investigate the noise and soon returned.
"Sir, it's just some children playing with firecrackers in the alley," they reported.The officials were indignant: "Firecrackers can also injure people, how can we be so careless—"
Deng Yi laughed: "I, Deng Yi, am not so detested by the people that I would ban even firecrackers. Moreover—" He counted on his fingers, "The New Year is approaching."
Indeed, the New Year was just around the corner. The officials paused, then shook their heads with awkward smiles: "We’ve been so caught up in things that we forgot."
"This year has been tumultuous for Great Xia, and the days have passed in a blur," Deng Yi remarked.
Two officials sighed: "When the New Year comes, His Majesty will offer sacrifices to heaven and pray for blessings. All misfortunes will pass."
Deng Yi gazed at the cold, clear night sky. Would they? Perhaps. But for now, they still had to survive a crisis.
"How is General Chu faring?" he asked, turning to them.
The two officials darkened their expressions and shook their heads: "Not well."
...
...
Night enveloped the land, and the Zhongshan Prince's Mansion was shrouded in darkness, but the prince's bedchamber remained brightly lit.
Prince Zhongshan always slept with the lights on, leaving no shadow of an insect hidden in the room.
At this moment, hurried footsteps echoed, and shadows flickered across the floor.
"Is Chu Ling on the verge of death?" Prince Zhongshan sat up from his bed.
Xiao Xun and Ning Kun nodded.
"The latest news is that Chu Ling has been unconscious for several days," Ning Kun said.
Xiao Xun added softly, "He will not wake again."
Prince Zhongshan sighed with regret. "What a pity. A hero like him wasted half his life and, in the end, could not serve my cause." He then turned to Ning Kun. "Has the news been delivered to the Western Liang people?"
Ning Kun affirmed, "The King of Xiliang has already set out."
Western Liang and Great Xia had been at war for some time, but the conflict had remained lukewarm. Great Xia frequently reported victories, making it seem as though Western Liang was merely bluffing. In truth, this was not the case. The true royal army of Western Liang had been waiting, biding its time for a fatal strike.
That opportunity was Chu Ling's death.
"Father," Xiao Xun said, "allow me to lead troops to Yunzhong County."
It was time for them to turn the tide.
Prince Zhongshan laughed and shook his head. "No need. I believe that even in death, General Chu Ling can still confront the King of Xiliang. What you must do—" He stood up, pointing his cane toward the pitch-black night outside the door. "—is lead troops to the capital to protect His Majesty."
...
...
As dawn approached, Chu Zhao sat up from her bed. Hearing her movements, A Le, who was in the outer room, rose and entered with a basin of water.
Without exchanging many words, the mistress and servant began their familiar routine of wiping Chu Ling's body.
"Father’s beard needs trimming," Chu Zhao remarked, studying her father’s sleeping face.
A Le nodded. "The General looks better without a beard. I’ll call Uncle Zhong."
After the wiping, they would use a beak-shaped pot to feed him—specifically, ginseng soup.
However, less and less of it was being swallowed. Chu Zhao sighed softly as she looked at the half-bowl remaining in her hand. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door.
"Uncle Zhong, you’re here," Chu Zhao said, turning around. "I’ll wipe Father’s face, and then you can—"
"A Zhao," Zhong Changrong interrupted her, his expression grim. "The royal army of Western Liang has arrived."
Chu Zhao let out an "oh" and smiled faintly. "It seems the King of Xiliang is also aware of Father’s condition. He knows the time is right."
"The General’s condition has been kept secret. I don’t know how—" Zhong Changrong said bitterly.
Chu Zhao shook her head. "There are no walls without cracks."
There was no point in hunting for spies now.
Chu Zhao stood up.
"If the royal army is led by the King of Xiliang himself, then I will take Father’s place and lead the army to face them."With the main commander absent during a critical battle, it would inevitably shake the army's morale. As a daughter standing in for her father to lead the troops into battle, she fell somewhat short—but fortunately, she was no longer merely Chu Ling's daughter. She was now the Empress.
The Empress of Great Xia.
As the King of Xiliang personally led his troops to invade, the Empress of Great Xia would personally lead her forces to meet him in battle.
"A Le," Chu Zhao said, "fetch my court attire as Empress."
A Le responded with a resounding affirmation.
When they had left the Imperial City, Chu Zhao had instructed her to bring the court attire, but throughout their journey—whether encountering bandits or officials—she had never worn it. Now, facing an external enemy, it was time to don it.
"Zhong Changrong," Chu Zhao declared.
This was the first time she had addressed him directly by name. In that instant, the person before him was no longer the young girl Zhong Changrong had known. Though not yet clad in the Empress's court attire, her presence was already imposing and authoritative.
"Deploy the Empress's ceremonial procession. We march to war."
Zhong Changrong dropped to one knee, clasped his fists, and proclaimed loudly: "Your subject obeys the command!"
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