Chapter 431
Chapter 431
A few days ago, at the border between Wu and Yue.
The situation here was at its most perilous. News of the White Night Army's battle had not yet arrived, and the air in King Ning Yuanxian's barracks felt stagnant. The young King of Wu was far too difficult to handle. Even though Bianwu was slaughtering people in Wu territory until the blood flowed like rivers, the King of Wu showed no intention of compromising, instead increasing his forces to one hundred and fifty thousand.
The King of Yue had only eighty thousand troops, and the two armies faced each other at close range, separated by a mere few hundred meters. Ning Yuanxian was under immense pressure, to the point where he mistook the slightest stir for an impending attack from the King of Wu's massive army. One hundred and fifty thousand against eighty thousand—Wu held a significant advantage in numbers. However, since the State of Yue was on the defensive, they could somewhat offset their numerical disadvantage by centering their defense around two fortresses on their line.
The King of Yue’s insides burned with anxiety every day. It was a brave act for him, the king, to personally serve as bait, but it was also a terrifying gamble. Even a gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall, so how could a monarch place himself in such a precarious position? Bad news arrived one after another. The army of Chu was relentlessly attacking Zhang Chong's defensive line, having already captured a dozen forts and pushed the border back three or four miles. Another report said that Wu's thirty-thousand-strong army was fiercely assaulting Raging Tide City, and with Jin Zhuo's assassination, the city's fall was all but certain.
The worst news of all came from the White Night Army's battlefield. It was the last secret dispatch from Grand Princess Ningjue. Shen Lang still hadn't appeared, Su Nan had once again reinforced his troops, and Zhang Chong was in critical condition. They could no longer hold White Night Army Fortress; it could fall the very next day. Ning Yuanxian had already prepared for this worst-case scenario, ordering the Third Prince, Ningqi, to station thirty thousand troops in Rang County. This meant abandoning most of the southern Tianxi Province. Truly, each day felt like a year.
Ning Yuanxian looked in the mirror and felt himself growing more haggard and older by the day. Yet, he was constantly waiting for a piece of news. It would either be the best news or the worst. The worst news, of course, would be that Zhang Chong was dead, White Night Army Fortress had fallen, and Su Nan's army had swept through the south of Tianxi Province—a monumental shift in the war. If that news came, the King of Yue would have no choice but to bow his head and negotiate a compromise with the King of Wu. He would have to grant everything the King of Wu demanded, ceding two counties and paying a colossal sum in war reparations.
Even if he had to pay such a steep price, he had no choice. To repel foreign enemies, one must first pacify the interior. But if the situation reached that point, the King of Yue's reputation and honor would suffer a fatal, unrecoverable blow. The State of Yue would be forced to step down from its position as the hegemon of the south, and the State of Wu would take its place.
Despite all this, Ning Yuanxian harbored a sliver of hope in his heart—a terribly faint hope that Shen Lang would perform another miracle. The crisis the Jin Clan had faced before was even more dire than this, yet Shen Lang, with his divine ingenuity, had not only resolved it but had also captured Raging Tide City, securing a swift and decisive victory. Zheng Tuo was an unreliable figure; the only hope was Shen Lang.
However, Ning Yuanxian dared not expect too much, fearing that the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment. It was truly a far-fetched wish. How could Shen Lang, with only a few hundred men, eliminate the King of Jiang and turn this dangerous situation around? For a time, Ning Yuanxian did not show his face outside, waiting quietly in his barracks for news. The Yue army also avoided provoking the Wu forces, remaining hidden within their camp. In response, the Wu army began to provoke them, initiating several military skirmishes, large and small. As a result, the morale of the Yue army plummeted, while the fighting spirit of the Wu army soared.
* * *
The King of Wu was also incredibly anxious. Bianwu's indiscriminate slaughter within Wu's borders was causing immense suffering to his people with each passing day. There was still no word on the outcome of the battle at Raging Tide City; the last report he had received was that the fighting was still fierce. However, in his letter, Wu Mu had sworn to capture the city, so the King of Wu was not the least bit worried about the outcome there.
What he was waiting for was the result of the battle on Yue's western front—at White Night Army Fortress. That was the eye of the storm. If Zhang Chong died and the fortress fell, Su Nan's army could sweep through Tianxi Province. At that point, Ning Yuanxian would have to come begging for his forgiveness, and Bianwu would obediently withdraw his troops. That would be the moment the King of Wu could demand whatever he wanted, the moment to wash away past humiliations. The young King of Wu paid little mind to the outcome at Raging Tide City, waiting anxiously day after day for news from White Night Army Fortress. He would ask dozens of times a day if any news had arrived.
* * *
Ning Yuanxian sat quietly on a long, narrow couch, reading a Buddhist sutra in his hands. It was the only way to calm his mind, even if just a little. While this wasn't quite a crisis of life and death, it was undoubtedly a dire situation. Good news from the Tianxi front would send him to the heavens; bad news would cast him into hell. There was no middle ground in this situation. It would be either the best possible outcome or the worst.
But no matter how worried Ning Yuanxian was, he did not pray. If prayers were effective, Lord Jiang Li would not have died all those years ago, and the Great Qian Kingdom would not have been defeated. Back then, how many people in the world fervently revered His Highness Jiang Li? How many had prayed for him? And what was the result of all those prayers? The peerless hero had still died a sudden death. Ning Yuanxian grew calmer. He had already prepared himself mentally, waiting for the worst to come. He even began to plan how he would negotiate with the King of Wu.
‘I must swallow my pride and see this through. I will readily admit defeat. If he demands reparations, I will pay them. If he demands territory, I will cede it. I am prepared to concede everything. Come now, worst nightmare, you may arrive!’
Just then, the young eunuch Yu Eun burst into the barracks, shouting frantically.
"Your Majesty, joyous news! A great victory has been reported! Young Master Shen Lang has eliminated the King of Jiang, supported Princess Aruonana as queen, and led ten thousand cavalry into the Tianxi Province battlefield to launch a pincer attack with Lord Zhang Chong. The result was a resounding victory. The main force of Su Nan's rebel army has been almost completely annihilated!"
After hearing the young eunuch's report, King Ning Yuanxian stood stunned for a long moment. The reaction to a great shock and to immense joy is the same. The difference is that a great shock can leave a person frozen as if struck by lightning, while immense joy might cause a slight twitch, and perhaps even a faint urge to urinate. At the same time, the mind goes completely blank, lost in a daze. Ning Yuanxian was an inherently refined man who had never uttered a coarse word in his life; he couldn't even bear to watch others use foul language. Only after several minutes did he manage to speak a single phrase.
"For fuck's sake!"
After letting the curse slip, he quickly came to his senses and glanced around the barracks. Everyone bowed their heads, pretending they hadn't heard a thing. Only the young scribe looked utterly conflicted. He was the official historian tasked with recording the king's every word, and he was not to omit a single syllable spoken by the king in a public setting.
‘As a scribe, I must maintain my integrity. Even if it means death, I must record all of His Majesty's words and actions. By using history as a mirror, one can understand the rise and fall of a nation's fortune.’
Presently, the scribe wrote on the parchment.
``
‘Behold, what integrity I, a scribe, possess.’
King Ning Yuanxian, his eyes bloodshot and his face flushed, snatched the secret dispatch sent by Grand Princess Ningjue. He read the short message over and over again.
‘How exhilarating! How thrilling!’
The king felt as if he could chew and swallow the victory report. After a full fifteen minutes of excitement, Ning Yuanxian grew even more agitated. But while his earlier excitement had been external, this was a deep, internal thrill. He tossed aside the Buddhist sutra in his hand.
‘What's the point of reading this? It's not the least bit interesting.’
"Bring wine! Bring wine! Bring..."
Important things must be said three times. Before the king could finish his command, Grand Eunuch Yu Jun appeared before him with the prepared wine. The king narrowed his eyes, pointed at Yu Jun, and said.
"You old fox, do you fancy yourself a mind reader, trying to guess my thoughts? You could be silenced on the spot for that."
After saying this, the king could no longer hold back and burst into laughter. He took the wine jug and poured himself a drink.
‘So delicious! What wine is this, that it tastes so good?’
In truth, it was the same wine, but when he had drunk it last night, it had tasted as foul as horse urine. As Ning Yuanxian drank, he read the victory report again, his heart soaring.
‘I shall compose a poem. I am so joyous, I must seize this moment to write a masterpiece for the ages.’
Ning Yuanxian tried to formulate a poem, but after several minutes, he couldn't come up with a single line.
‘Forget it. Who writes poetry at a time of such joy?’
He drained the entire wine jug in one go. Having had a bit too much, the king lay down on the couch, breathing a little heavily.
"Incredible, incredible. Incredible. What an incredible bastard!"
More important things must be said four times.
"Shen Lang, that fellow is truly too incredible! I truly held but a sliver of hope for him, yet he actually did it. To go with only a few hundred men, eliminate the King of Jiang, and place Aruonana on the throne. From now on, the State of Jiang is our ally. Our western border will be secure for decades.
The mission I gave him was only to hold off Su Nan for a month or two, but he ended up wiping out Su Nan's main army. This fellow, this rascal... is he truly a talent sent to me from the heavens? He is indeed a man worthy of my admiration. Old fox, don't you think that rascal Shen Lang resembles me? And Zhang Chong is incredible, a truly incredible man!
It's truly a strange thing. When Ningjue sent that thousand-character screed tattling that Shen Lang was taking only a few hundred soldiers to kill King Aruotai of Jiang, no one in the world believed in him, yet Zhang Chong alone believed he could do it and entrusted his life to him. For two former arch-enemies to become confidants who would entrust their lives to each other, what a fascinating turn of events! I've won. I've won!"
As he uttered the last words, the king's throat tightened and his eyes grew moist. For a time, the person under the greatest pressure in the world was not Zhang Chong, and certainly not Shen Lang, but King Ning Yuanxian himself. If Zhang Chong died, that was the end of it. If Shen Lang failed, that was the end of it. But Ning Yuanxian alone bore the fate of the nation. For him, each day felt like a year. He anticipated the worst outcome every day, unable to sleep properly, waking from nightmares every night. But in the end, he had won, and it was a resounding victory.
‘I've won, I've won!’
As he repeated those words to himself, the wine cup slipped from Ning Yuanxian's hand and fell to the floor. He had fallen fast asleep. Grand Eunuch Yu Jun approached and, with extreme care, covered the king with a silk blanket.