Chapter 26: Entering the City

He Was No One’s Puppet

By noon the next day, the group found a farmhouse for a simple meal. After a brief rest, they resumed their journey.

Li Youqing grew restless cooped up in the carriage. When the afternoon sun emerged and the weather improved, she requested to ride alongside them.

Having previously witnessed her riding skills—quite proficient for a woman—Xuan Rui permitted her to ride a separate horse.

He only forbade her from riding too fast and insisted she remain by his side.

The northwestern frontier stretched vast and empty, with no signs of human habitation for miles. Occasional wolf howls echoed in the distance, and Li Youqing feared getting lost more than he did.

She clung closely behind him, exchanging occasional words while the others deliberately kept their distance, tactfully avoiding proximity.

The closer they drew to Ming City, the more somber Xuan Rui’s expression grew.

A messenger from the north joined the procession during this time, hastening their pace. They pressed on through the night without further organized rest.

After half a day on horseback, Li Youqing felt her bones rattled from the jolting ride. Wrapped in a blanket inside the carriage, she collapsed into sleep, nearly forgetting where she was.

In the depths of slumber, she fell into a bizarre dream.

She dreamed of wearing a thin silk dress, lying upon jagged gravel in an endless desert.

Several eagles circled overhead, emitting piercing screeches.

They wheeled around her in endless loops, as if already viewing her as carrion, contemplating where to strike first.

Terrified, Li Youqing scrambled to rise, only to discover herself sinking into quicksand—the harder she struggled, the deeper she sank.

Seizing the opportunity, the eagles dove toward her simultaneously from all directions—

On the verge of becoming their prey, she shut her eyes in despair, her blood running cold.

At the critical moment, a wolf’s howl echoed nearby.

Simultaneously, a massive figure pounced upon her, nearly crushing her internal organs.

A colossal shadow enveloped her, and a heart-pounding dread seized her as if standing at the abyss. Li Youqing believed death was imminent.

Yet after a moment, her body gradually revived.

Opening her eyes, she found the eagles gone from the sky, seemingly driven away by this newly arrived beast.

But it was a wild wolf a hundred times more terrifying than the eagles!

Its cold, fierce eyes gleamed with an eerie light as it bared sharp fangs, its claws inching closer against her skin.

A massive paw pressed down on her thigh, rendering her completely immobile. Horrifyingly, the beast lowered its head, incessantly sniffing her scent.

When it finally had its fill, its barbed tongue began licking her skin in repeated strokes.

It, too, saw her as a meal.

Wherever it licked, fine pain erupted across her skin, driving Li Youqing to the brink of madness.

Every inch of her skin prickled with goosebumps, trembling uncontrollably.

And in the beast’s eyes burned a brutality that chilled her to the core, as if eagerly anticipating devouring her whole.

“No, don’t—” she involuntarily struggled, hands pushing frantically to keep it at bay.

But these acts of resistance were utterly futile against the wild wolf.

Finally, its sharp fangs pierced her skin, beginning to gnaw relentlessly in one spot.

Thinking she was about to be devoured alive by this beast, Li Youqing’s eyes welled with large teardrops, and for a moment, she couldn’t hold back her sobs.

The wolf paused its movements, its sharp front claws gently touching her cheek before it licked away her tears with its tongue.

Unable to bear the overwhelming fear, Li Youqing fainted from terror in her dream.

When she awoke, daylight had fully broken.

The clamor of crowds outside reminded her that their destination was near.

Rubbing her eyes, she suddenly remembered something and sat up abruptly, glancing down at her chest.

Her clothes showed no signs of tearing, but the knot she had casually tied at her collar had clearly been undone and retied.

The new knot looked neater and more secure.

No wonder the Gu poison hadn’t flared up all day—he must have come quietly last night.

She couldn’t help feeling annoyed at herself for sleeping so soundly that she hadn’t even noticed him entering and undoing her clothes.

In a flash, she recalled the nightmare from the previous night.

It was clear that Xuan Rui was the vicious wolf in her dream that had tormented her.

He had driven away the eagles circling overhead, waiting to tear her apart, only to devour her in an even more brutal way.

She couldn’t help wondering if this dream was a premonition of the future.

If he discovered her lies, would he truly torture her so cruelly?

Would he tear her apart limb by limb, then toss her remains into the desert to be scavenged by vultures and eagles?

Remembering the sensation of the wolf’s tongue licking her skin, she shuddered, a flush rising to her cheeks.

That pervert, that madman—

She carefully checked the rest of her body and, finding nothing unusual, gradually relaxed.

But her face grew hotter still. She flung open the carriage curtain, and a cold breeze brushed against her, carrying a hint of dampness.

Ming City was not far from Daliang’s border, and its climate was more suitable for crop growth than other regions.

Although the northwestern garrison had built a few granaries near the border, in the event of war, they would still rely on supplies transported from the central plains.

The carriage moved forward a little further, and the wind began to carry a faint odor of decay.

Looking out along the roadside, she saw corpses lying haphazardly in the grass, all foaming at the mouth—a horrifying sight.

When Xuan Rui rode up on his horse, she couldn’t help asking, “General, are these all citizens of Rou Lan?”

“Some are from Rou Lan, and some are from our Daliang,” Xuan Rui replied gravely. Spotting someone approaching from the city gate, he urged his horse forward to meet them.

Luo Cheng emerged from the city, and his face lit up at the sight of the ten large carts of supplies.

Dismounting first, he bowed ceremoniously to Xuan Rui and said, “General Xuan, we are truly indebted to you this time.”

Xuan Rui dismounted, his expression stern. “What is the situation in the city now? Why are there so many corpses along the road with no one to collect them?”

He knew well that plagues were highly contagious, and failing to cremate the deceased promptly would only spread the infection further.

Luo Cheng sighed helplessly. “Some of the city guards have also been infected. We’re severely short-handed. These are all refugees trying to flee the city. Those who were gravely ill couldn’t hold on and died along the way. We can’t even keep up with collecting the bodies.”

“The situation has already become this severe, why hasn’t the city been sealed to prevent the plague from raging unchecked?” Xuan Rui’s brow was clouded with anger. Seeing that the other party didn’t respond, he whipped his horse and directly entered the inner city.

Luo Cheng was about to chase after him to explain when Xiao Ziqi, who had been following closely, called out to him: “General Luo, may I ask who is in charge of distributing supplies here? I need to coordinate with them.”

“Oh, it’s my subordinate Liu Wen,” Luo Cheng hurriedly went to introduce them.

Just as the convoy reached the city gate, they heard a unified command.

Then, the voices of thousands of soldiers erupted simultaneously, their momentum piercing through the heavens.

A man’s powerful voice declared: “Xu Tao, garrison commander of Wu City for the Zhenbei Army, pays respects to the General!”

Such a grand display startled Luo Cheng.

Since before dawn, those Zhenbei soldiers from Wu City had begun gathering in an orderly manner.

At first he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming they were conducting temporary drills to boost morale.

Only now did he realize that those soldiers who usually never followed his commands were preparing to welcome their great general.

He himself was a deputy general of the Red Feather Army. Several years ago after Rou Lan was conquered, the Prince dispatched five thousand Zhenbei troops to garrison Wu City, and one thousand Red Feather soldiers to garrison Ming City.

This arrangement had been quite controversial within the military from the start.

Many Zhenbei officers believed that since they had fought desperately to conquer Rou Lan, why should jurisdiction over Ming City – the main grain-producing area – be given to the Red Feather Army.

But General Xuan accepted without a word, so the others fell silent.

Moreover, Luo Cheng had been quite proactive in transporting provisions to the Zhenbei Army annually afterwards. The two garrisons were quite distant and never experienced any conflicts.

Before the recent incident in Wu City, Zhenbei Wang personally ordered those five thousand soldiers to come to Ming City for disaster relief.

But three garrison commanders seemed to have foreseen something, insisting on remaining in Wu City, ultimately meeting their ends with incomplete corpses.

Luo Cheng felt deep sorrow upon hearing this news, and was constantly prepared to sacrifice himself for the country, fighting to defend Ming City to the last.

Xu Tao was even more grief-stricken, immediately wanting to lead troops back for revenge.

But they later received the General’s order, commanding them to remain peacefully in place to prevent King Bai’s forces from attacking again.

The soldiers were all restless; if not for hearing that the General was coming, they would likely have lost patience and gone for vengeance long ago.

Now beneath the city walls, nearly five thousand soldiers stood in neat columns on both sides, all looking intensely excited.

Watching Xuan Rui slowly ride into the inner city on horseback, Luo Cheng vaguely sensed that his purpose in coming wasn’t pure.

Xuan Rui’s gaze swept over the faces of his subordinates, finally resting lightly on Luo Cheng’s face.

Feeling an overwhelming pressure, Luo Cheng involuntarily lowered his head.

Xuan Rui shifted his gaze and continued forward.

If this man knew what was good for him, that would be fine.

Compared to the battle-hardened Zhenbei Army that struck fear into the tribes of the northwest, the Red Feather Army was nothing more than a dog raised by his adoptive father.

It would do whatever commanded, eat whatever bones thrown its way – its only flaw being it couldn’t kill.

The reason they didn’t attack Ming City after taking Wu City was because the thousand troops stationed here weren’t worth using.

They were essentially stray dogs – incapable of guarding the Daliang Emperor’s home, but suitable to serve as Zhenbei Wang’s pawns and scapegoats.

Among the three armies, only the Zhenbei Army under his command was the most formidable, and also the most difficult to control.

Since his adoptive father had already turned traitor, he naturally had to make plans for himself and those loyal followers who stood by him.

The deaths of these three had already filled him with profound grief.

No matter what, he would never allow such a thing to happen again.

He was not afraid of King Bai’s hundred-thousand strong army coming to attack. Since this was all a joint act put on for the emperor, who knew how much of it was just for show?

He was no one’s puppet, nor would he ever give anyone the chance to manipulate him.