Yu Shaoxie and Mijing looked at Xiao Rong.

Looked at Xiao Rong.

Looked at Xiao—

There was no need to look further. Once Xiao Rong realized, he had already dashed out.

Yu Shaoxie: “…”

Mijing: “…”

They glanced at each other, then also went out.

*

This was an emergency. Qu Yunmie summoned all the generals in the city. After learning what Nanyong had done, the vast majority were filled with righteous indignation, and a small number remained calm, feeling the situation was tricky.

After plundering the spoils and organizing the prisoners and civilians, the army wouldn’t remain in Shengle City for long. Within a few days, they would have to move to neighboring Shuofang, which was just over a hundred li away. Even without forced marches, it would take just over two days to arrive.

As for Yizhou, even the closest Chengdu Commandery was 3,500 li away. Those designated to travel had to push themselves to the limit to reach it quickly—though even if people didn’t collapse from exhaustion, the horses would.

Moreover, killing Nanyong soldiers was nowhere near as satisfying as killing Xianbei soldiers. From the perspective of military merit, distance, and personal desire, everyone preferred to stay in Shengle City.

Still, not everyone could be lucky. One unlucky person would inevitably be singled out by the King.

Except for a few foolish ones who continued cursing Nanyong thieves, the others mostly fell silent. At this moment, no one wanted Qu Yunmie to notice and assign them this unpleasant task.

One man’s silence was different. The others’ silence was from fear, his was from numbness.

The moment he heard the sudden war report, he knew he would be called into action again.

The next second, Xiao Rong stepped over the threshold. Simultaneously, Qu Yunmie’s voice rang out: “Wang Xinyong, lead the rear army to Ningzhou and reclaim the lost cities. Dongfang Jin, issue military orders to the commander at Anding City, send thirty thousand troops to reinforce the local garrison immediately.”

Several Northern Army outposts existed north of the Huai River. The main forces were stationed at Chenliu and Yanmen Pass, with secondary units in Beiyangzhou and Anding City. The former defended against Nanyong raids, the latter guarded against sudden incursions from the Western Regions.

Historically, Anding City had always been unlucky. Whenever the Western Regions caused trouble, it bore the brunt first.

As for Xiping, Jiuquan, Dunhuang, and Gaochang along the same route, though closer to the Western Regions, they were raided far less frequently. Most of their local populations were non-Han, and many governors were ethnically different but loyal to the Central Plains. Western Region envoys could borrow passage without offending them. Only Anding City, due to its geography and history, was predominantly Han Chinese, making it the prime target.

…

Now, the Western Region threat was minimal. After the Donghu tribes expanded, the Western Region’s space shrank. The largest Western Region nation, Wusun, had been defeated by Qu Yunmie a couple of years ago. If he had focused on Wusun instead of Xianbei, he could have directly crossed the Tianshan Mountains and attacked Wusun’s homeland near Issyk-Kul Lake. Luckily, he did not. Otherwise, Wusun would have been destroyed and wouldn’t have had the chance to lick their wounds. Their internal instability caused by the Eastern invasion would take a long time to recover, and it would likely not be until Qu Yunmie’s death before they dared return.

The Anding garrison totaled forty thousand. Qu Yunmie immediately dispatched thirty thousand, an unavoidable necessity because Anding’s forces were closest to Yizhou.

Qu Yunmie already explained the battle situation to the other generals with the maps while Xiao Rong stood aside, feeling inexplicably uneasy.

Why Yizhou again?

…

Anding City’s misfortune had some reason, but why did Yizhou suffer repeatedly? Yizhou lay inland, surrounded by mountains, a typically defensible location, yet in this era its advantages seemed invisible. First, it was occupied by foreigners, killing almost all native people. Later, as foreign forces weakened, various powers seized it repeatedly—the Qingfeng Sect, the Xianbei, and now even Nanyong.

It was strange.

Xiao Rong wasn’t intuitive, he preferred analysis and optimal solutions. Yet in such inexplicable cases, he couldn’t help but feel a little superstitious.

Historically, whenever trouble arose in Yizhou, Qu Yunmie would follow, one disaster triggering another like dominoes. His unnamed empire seemed to collapse in an instant. Half a year ago, Xiao Rong had prevented Yizhou’s unrest in advance, yet six months later, trouble had returned.

The system gave no warning. Xiao Rong’s anxiety stemmed purely from his own unease. Call it superstition or overthinking, he simply feared these sudden disasters.

While Xiao Rong pondered, Qu Yunmie, surrounded by generals, said, “The thirty thousand soldiers from Anding City should reach Yizhou within five days. If the reports are accurate, Shen Yangrui’s army is still advancing north. They claim to send one hundred thousand troops, but scouts reported fewer—only fifty to sixty thousand.”

Yuan Baifu remarked, “Indeed. The entire Nanyong army numbers barely one hundred and twenty thousand. They cannot spare one hundred thousand just to seize these two commanderies.”

Jian Qiao frowned. “Five days? Two mountains lie north of Ningzhou. Without detours, the time to cross…”

Qu Yunmie pointed at the map. “Take the Chencang route, continue along the Lianyun plank road, then the Baoxie route, and finally enter via the Yangping Pass. Crossing one mountain will suffice.”

Jian Qiao: “…”

He had forgotten Qu Yunmie’s unparalleled memory for routes. The last time Qu Yunmie entered Yizhou was three years ago, and they had used a different path via the Yugu route.

Jian Qiao glanced at Wang Xinyong. Calm and reliable, it seemed he could handle the task. Anyone could go, just not Gongsun Yuan—he would get lost in such complex terrain.

…

Just as things seemed settled, Qu Yunmie paused, then added, “The thirty thousand soldiers at Anding are temporary. Once Wang Xinyong’s rear army arrives, send those thirty thousand back. Anding City’s garrison cannot be left empty for long.”

He then asked Wang Xinyong, “How many soldiers remain in the rear army?”

After last night’s brutal battle, the Xianbei casualties were clear, but the Northern Army losses were not fully counted. Qu Yunmie knew the losses were severe, but he didn’t know the exact numbers.

Wang Xinyong replied, “Thirty-six thousand remain.”

Qu Yunmie’s expression darkened. They had started with fifty thousand, now only thirty-six thousand remained—nearly a third had died.

His mood worsened. He looked at the other three generals. They understood without being asked.

Gongsun Yuan answered, “Fifty thousand remain.” He had brought sixty thousand.

Jian Qiao said, “Fifty-three thousand.” Also from sixty thousand.

Yuan Baifu replied, “Seventy-five thousand soldiers survived.” He had the largest contingent—ninety thousand in total.

Together, the four generals commanded 260,000. The Northern Army numbered 360,000, leaving 100,000 in the central army. Qu Yunmie looked at Yu Shaocheng, who had been quietly listening. When Qu Yunmie’s gaze fell on him, he perked up and reported, “Ninety-two thousand three hundred remain.”

The central army had the most soldiers and the fewest casualties. Though many were elite, it was also due to competent leadership.

Qu Yunmie smiled faintly at Yu Shaocheng, then his expression darkened again. “Why are casualties under your command so high?!”

Wang Xinyong: “…”

He remained silent, uncertain whether from fear or unwillingness. Xiao Rong spoke up, “General Wang accompanied General Yu last night to meet the King. The fourteen thousand soldiers who escorted the King were all from the central army. He didn’t lead the rear army.”

Qu Yunmie recalled who led the rear army, and his face darkened further.

Honestly, it wasn’t entirely a mistake. On the battlefield, luck determined life and death. Sometimes a general’s troops simply faced the enemy’s main force. Or sometimes there was no reason at all—his soldiers were just unlucky, resulting in many deaths. They had won the battle without mistakes, so Qu Yunmie couldn’t punish a general for this.

Yet he was still angry and embarrassed, and it was his own clansmen who had brought shame.

Qu Jin stood quietly in the room, unnoticed. He likely felt embarrassed and remained in an inconspicuous corner.

Qu Yunmie opened his mouth but hesitated. When he spoke again, it wasn’t the same words. “Then Yuan Baifu, take forty thousand soldiers with Wang Xinyong. Give the remaining troops to Yu Shaocheng.”

He called out again, “Yu Shaocheng.”

Yu Shaocheng promptly answered, blinking, “Here!”

Qu Yunmie said, “Three days from now, take these soldiers with Gongsun Yuan to defeat the Khitan.”

The Khitan had fled last night. Upon hearing of the North Gate’s fall, they didn’t wait for the Northern Army to arrive—they escaped swiftly. The Khitan King likely thought Qu Yunmie would let him go, but that was impossible. Across the steppes, besides the Xianbei treasures, only the Khitan were known for wealth. Qu Yunmie had heard stories in his youth from the Butewu tribe. Khitan, before statehood, had even clashed with the Butewu, stealing many herbs. Luckily, they failed to reach the Salt Woman Lake again.

For young Qu Yunmie, it was just a story. For present-day Qu Yunmie, it was a rare opportunity.

The Khitan never joined the Xianbei alliance, and Qu Yunmie couldn’t let them go.

 

***

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

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