Chapter 247: "At This Point, There's Only Continuing..."
Wen Yu lifted her head, a strand of dark hair slipping from behind her ear. She raised her hand to tuck it back, her face bearing traces of fatigue and pallor from prolonged lack of rest, yet her expression remained calm and composed: "The city gates can no longer be held?"
Zhao Bai bowed her head in silence.
Wen Yu murmured softly: "Twenty days... still five days short."
She pressed her fingers to her brow, set down the vermilion brush, and summoned the Azure Guard waiting outside the door. She ordered them to box and seal the memorials she had processed, instructing: "Deliver these to Chancellor Qi. He will understand what to do upon reading them."
After the Azure Guard respectfully collected the memorials and withdrew, Wen Yu rose from behind the long desk: "Accompany me to the city tower."
Her brocade skirt trailed across the steps beneath the long desk as she passed by Zhao Bai, who still hadn't risen. Finally, as if having resolved herself, Zhao Bai turned toward Wen Yu just as she was about to exit and kowtowed heavily: "Your Highness, please leave with this servant."
Her words carried both anguish and shame.
Wen Yu slightly furrowed her brows and looked back at Zhao Bai.
Having been with her for so long, she knew Zhao Bai's temperament all too well.
Maintaining her turned position, Wen Yu gazed at Zhao Bai for a long time before sighing softly and calling her name as she used to in the inner chambers: "Ah Zhao."
The wind had picked up. The deep green jade earrings at her ears and a few stray strands of dark hair swayed gently against her neck. Her expression remained as serene and gentle as ever, yet carried the unyielding authority of one in power.
Zhao Bai didn't raise her head. Her fingers pressed hard against the ground, knuckles white and veins bulging, as if unable to bear some unbearable pain, she broke down: "The late Emperor, the late Empress, and the Crown Prince have all sacrificed themselves for this land. The Crown Princess is gone too. Your Highness, the Wen Shi lineage of Fengyang owes the world nothing anymore! Please live for yourself just once! Or for the young princess! She's not even a year old - without you, how will she face this situation surrounded by wolves?"
She, usually cold and resolute, rarely showed such complete loss of composure.
Amid Zhao Bai's sobs, Wen Yu approached, crouched down to help her up. Her gentle face showed a comforting softness as she said: "Ah Zhao, I am the ruler of two nations.
"In this position, I must protect the people of both countries. There are still my soldiers and subjects in the city. If I leave, it won't just be them who suffer."
If Tiger Gorge Pass and Gole City were destined to fall, only her death would be the best way to break the deadlock.
With Zhao Bai's hands in hers, Wen Yu spoke while Zhao Bai clenched her jaw, unable to hold back the stinging pain in her eyes as hot tears fell. She repeated: "This servant knows, I... know everything."
Her voice grew hoarse toward the end, sobs intensifying as she bowed her head in disgrace: "It's my incompetence. I couldn't protect the Crown Prince, the Crown Princess, and now I can't protect you either..."
Wen Yu embraced her, a fleeting desolation appearing in her eyes: "How can this be blamed on Ah Zhao? You've done more than enough. It's us contending with heaven."
The wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the tall trees, while the iron horses under the eaves clanged with metallic sounds in the wind.
Wen Yu's gaze gradually sharpened amid the wind and bronze bell sounds, even gaining a keen edge: "At this point, there's only continuing to contend."
"The breach in the western wall keeps widening! We can't plug it anymore!"
In the narrow inner city passage leading to the barbican, fleeing Chen soldiers ran back crying out in despair.The soldiers who had been rushing to the barbican were thrown into confusion by these words, unsure whether to continue their advance to reinforce it.
"Abandon the defense! The Western Mausoleum Army of 120,000 is attacking the city. Once they break through, their horses' hooves alone will trample everyone in the city to death. How can we possibly fight back?"
The deserters' hysterical shouts spread fear like a plague through the ranks, and the reinforcements heading for the western wall ground to a halt.
A young officer who had received the news galloped over, cut down one deserter with his blade, and roared, "Those who flee the battlefield will be executed immediately!"
Yet his efforts proved futile. One deserter even tore off his helmet, his fear of the hopelessly outnumbered battle having turned into sheer rage, as if he had already thrown his life away. "Go ahead and execute me! Dying by the barbarians' blades is no different from dying by you lapdogs of the court!"
With that, he raised his arms and shouted to those around him, "When has the court ever treated us as human? They withhold our pay year after year, and now that Liang woman is using our entire Chen Kingdom as a stepping stone for her Liang Kingdom, luring 120,000 troops of the Western Mausoleum Army to attack Gole City while she flees with her entourage! I was born of parents too—I'm done with this!"
His inflammatory words further shattered the army's morale. Many soldiers began discarding their helmets and armor, ready to abandon their posts and flee.
The young officer, enraged, pointed his coiled whip at the deserters and cursed, "You rebels! Twenty thousand Liang troops are defending the city, and the princess is here as well. How dare you disrupt our morale!"
Emboldened by their numbers, the deserters showed no fear. Some even spat on the ground and retorted, "Nonsense! Where is that Liang woman?"
They shoved aside the Chen soldiers who had come with the officer to block them, preparing to force their way out. Just as an internal conflict seemed inevitable, a voice suddenly rang out from behind: "The princess has arrived—"
Everyone turned to look. The soldiers at the rear parted to clear a path.
At the end of the narrow alley flanked by weathered walls, a carriage rolled into view. Sixteen riders of the Qingyun Iron Cavalry led the way, followed by a black-and-gold Dragon Banner emblazoned with dragon patterns, exuding an aura of solemnity and lethality.
Even the most vocal deserters fell silent.
The Dragon Banner was a symbol of the sovereign.
If this banner were raised atop the city tower, it would mean the ruler intended to stand with the city, living or dying alongside it.
As the procession drew nearer, the princess could be seen seated with imposing dignity in the open ceremonial carriage, clad in black and red royal robes.
The young officer on horseback was the first to react. He swiftly dismounted and dropped to one knee.
Instantly, the clatter of armor echoed through the narrow alley. The Chen soldiers who had come to suppress the unrest, as well as the deserters who had cast off their gear, knelt on both sides of the path.
They despised the nobles who treated their lives as worthless, and they loathed the princes and marquises who sat high in their halls, feasting on their flesh and blood.
But what if their ruler truly stood with them, sharing their fate in life and death?
Mu Youliang, upon hearing the news, had not yet reached the barbican when he saw Wen Yu ascending the city tower with the Dragon Banner. Stunned, he immediately knelt, his armor rustling. A tumult of emotions choked his throat as he clasped his fists and spoke with shame and remorse, "Your Highness, you must not."
Wen Yu gently motioned for him to rise and said, "The city's civilians have all been evacuated. My decision is final—I vow to live or die with the soldiers of Gole City."
She then signaled Zhao Bai to have the Dragon Banner planted on the city tower.
Witnessing this, Mu Youliang was overwhelmed with emotion. Remaining on one knee, he bowed his head, on the verge of tears. "I have failed Your Highness's trust."Wen Yu helped the man to his feet and said, "You have already fulfilled your loyalty by holding out for fifteen days. Now I ask the general to continue assisting me in this eternal struggle for the people of both nations."
Mu Youliang's eyes reddened with unshed tears, yet his gaze remained resolute. Clasping his fists, he declared, "In this battle, as long as I live, the city stands; if I perish, the city falls!"
The Dragon Banner had been successfully raised above the city tower.
Gu Xiyun, who was leading troops to reinforce the collapsed section of the wall, glanced back toward the distant tower amid the fierce fighting, her gaze suddenly freezing.
Her helmet had long been lost somewhere, and the loose strands of hair from her small bun were matted into clumps by sweat and blood, clinging messily to her forehead along with dust and grime.
She stared fixedly at the newly raised black-and-gold dragon-patterned banner until crimson rage and murderous intent overflowed from her eyes.
Noticing her unusual reaction, Mu Shaoting followed her line of sight and also saw the Dragon Banner.
A messenger galloped urgently from the rear, shouting to boost morale: "Reinforcements are on their way! The princess remains in Gole City, awaiting reinforcements with all officers and soldiers! Hold the line at all costs—endure this fierce assault!"
The soldiers, who had been fighting the Western Mausoleum Army to the point of despair, felt their spirits lift at the news of reinforcements.
Glancing back and seeing the black-and-gold dragon-patterned banner—clear proof that Wen Yu was personally commanding from the tower and the messenger’s words were true—their morale swiftly surged.
"Reinforcements are coming! The princess is on the tower—it must be real!"
"We’re saved!"
The messenger whipped his horse onward to spread the "good news" elsewhere, and the previously despondent city brimmed with boiling morale in an instant.
Yet Mu Shaoting frowned.
The initial troops dispatched from Liang to Southern Chen had all been brought to this frontier pass by Wen Yu. Even if Wen Yu had later sent letters to Liang Camp, crossing the thousand-mile desert between Great Liang and Southern Chen would take over half a month at full marching speed.
Reinforcements couldn’t arrive this quickly.
Recalling what Gu Xiyun had told him outside the corridor on the day Wen Yu first repelled the enemy at Gole City—that if the city fell, the Liang army wouldn’t retreat, and neither would Wen Yu—he suddenly understood everything. A complex mix of emotions welled up in his heart.
He looked at Gu Xiyun, parting his lips to speak, but she moved first.
She withdrew her bloodthirsty gaze, discarded her long spear, and retrieved two swallow-wing spears from her horse. Tightly binding them to her blood-soaked hands with cloth straps, she leaned down and used her teeth to tighten the knots.
Her eyes, fixed on the approaching Western Mausoleum Army, remained fierce, yet now held a fearless disregard for life and death.
Understanding her intentions from her actions, Mu Shaoting found himself suddenly speechless.
After this woman had pointed her spear at his throat on their first meeting, he had investigated her.
She bore the surname Gu and was the sister of Gu Changfeng, renowned as the top military strategist in Great Liang.
To avenge the Battle of Luodu, she had always used the lacquered spear famous in her family.
But now she had abandoned that spear, which she cherished as her life.
Because that lacquered spear was too heavy—she wasn’t truly skilled with it. From childhood, she had trained with twin spears.
Only because the Gu family had no surviving sons had she forced herself to switch to the long spear, enlist in the army, and use that weapon to restore the Gu family’s former glory and cleanse the disgrace inflicted upon them when Luodu fell.
Now, reverting to twin spears was to conserve her strength as much as possible.Tying the spear shaft to her hand was a precaution against the blood making it too slippery to grip when exhaustion set in from the relentless fighting.
She was not afraid of death—she only wished to hold on for her sovereign beneath the Dragon Banner, even if just for one breath longer.
Below the city walls, within the heart of the Western Mausoleum Army formation, surrounded by over a thousand elite guards on a war chariot, He Yi, clad in full armor, caught sight of the Dragon Banner and Wen Yu appearing atop the battlements.
The morale of Gole City’s defenders surged abruptly, making even the advance on a section of the wall already breached grow difficult—so much so that the city’s guards began to counterattack. These shifts darkened He Yi’s expression.
Rising from the tiger-skin throne on her chariot, she narrowed her eyes, studying the scene opposite. A faint trace of irritation was forcibly suppressed as a confident, almost contemptuous smile tugged at her lips. “The struggle of a cornered beast,” she murmured.
Resuming her seat, she rang a bronze bell beside her, and a guard promptly approached. He Yi’s ambitious gaze fixed on the city walls—unimpressive in stature, yet stubbornly holding back her 120,000-strong Western Mausoleum Army. “Cease the attrition tactics,” she commanded. “The entire army will advance at my order!”
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