According to the Chronicles of Yu History: Imperial Annals of Emperor Zhao, on the first day of the fifth lunar month in the jiaxu year, Prince Ling’an Xu Zhou, the eighth son of Emperor Yuanzong, ascended the throne as Emperor Zhao of Yu, honoring the distant Emperor Yuanzong in the north as Great Emperor, and changing the era name to Ganding.

On the third day of the fifth month in the first year of Ganding, the new emperor’s first imperial edict was issued: the sixth daughter of the Xie family of Li Du Mansion had merit in supporting the dragon and was posthumously granted the title “Lady of Loyalty and Courage,” to be buried with military honors—the first woman in this dynasty to receive such distinction.

On the fourth day of the fifth month in the first year of Ganding, urgent reports came from the front lines: fifty thousand Qi troops had secretly marched past Shangyang Pass, intending to attack Li Du Mansion. Li Du Mansion recruited ten thousand soldiers, with Ying Huai, chief general of the Yucheng Army, as commander-in-chief and Song Muchuan, the current prefect of Li Du Mansion, as battle formation coordinator, hastily responding to the enemy.

The Qi army swept southward unstoppably. On the fifteenth of the same month, they occupied Luyang Town as their base camp, separated from the outer walls of Li Du Mansion by only the natural barrier of Xieyang Valley.

Xieyang Valley was a narrow gorge that could only allow about ten people to pass through side by side. In spring and summer, the roadside forests were thick with branches and leaves—if an ambush were set there, it would be like catching fish in a barrel, impossible to guard against.

The Qi army was very cautious about this and did not rashly deploy troops.

Li Du Mansion held the natural barrier while requesting reinforcements from the new dynasty in Jinling. If they could hold out for another ten days, reinforcements would arrive. Though the situation was critical, the entire army was united in purpose, wanting only to avenge their previous shame once reinforcements arrived.

But on this day, sounds of argument came from the main camp. People only heard someone shout “No means no!” before seeing the usually gentle Prefect Song storm out of the camp in anger.

The only person who could make Prefect Song so agitated seemed to be that mysterious military strategist.

When this strategist appeared, he was habitually wrapped up tightly in his helmet, making his appearance unclear. Though he held no official military rank, he had divine calculations, and his troop deployment strategies always had the miraculous effect of using four taels to move a thousand pounds. Though it seemed the Qi army was advancing triumphantly, our side actually knew they were outnumbered and chose not to face them head-on in disadvantageous terrain. Using minimal cost, they cut off the Qi army’s possibility of attacking Li Du Mansion from other directions, forcing them to attack only through Xieyang Valley.

The military’s legends about this strategist grew more mystical, calling him a reincarnation of Zhuge Liang.

But if everyone knew this person was Xie Queshan, the reputation would probably swing to the opposite extreme.

Xie Queshan went to great lengths to hide his identity, fearing his presence would cause controversy and unsettle the army’s morale. So he served as a behind-the-scenes strategist, with only Song Muchuan and part of the Yucheng Army knowing his identity.

He always acted low-key. Today’s argument with Song Muchuan was truly because the grain and fodder situation had become urgent. The city’s grain supplies were insufficient—when the Qi people controlled Li Du Mansion, they had already emptied the granaries to weaken our army’s defensive capabilities. The soldiers initially could rely on morale for support, but keeping everyone hungry wasn’t a long-term solution.

The Xie family had donated all their household grain reserves, also encouraging the city’s wealthy merchants and gentry to donate grain. But with enemies at the gates and people’s hearts in turmoil, many fled south, causing severe loss of resources. Ultimately, it was still a drop in the bucket.

Xie Queshan proposed leading men to circle around and raid the Qi people’s grain for emergency supplies, but this plan had too small a chance of success and was decisively rejected by Song Muchuan.

Xie Queshan asked back—then what good plan do you have?

Song Muchuan couldn’t say. He had no solution, but couldn’t attempt such a suicidal venture either. Since ancient times, siege warfare had always been difficult regarding grain supplies, but they could only defend stubbornly. Moreover, if reinforcements arrived, the siege would naturally be broken. He simply acted as an autocrat, refusing to agree, and without waiting for Xie Queshan to argue further, he ran off first.

Just as Xie Queshan was at his wit’s end, he received a letter from Shu.

The letter read: “Little Queshan, you robbed my granary. If I don’t avenge this, my hatred cannot be quelled. Stay right there—I’ll settle accounts after autumn!”

This was obviously Zhang Yuehui’s tone.

It turned out Guilai Hall still had grain stored in the city. Xie Queshan laughed despite himself—this kid had run so far away to hide, yet still had connections everywhere. Having money was truly wonderful. Right now Zhang Yuehui could call him “little one” and he’d gladly accept it. With this lead, they systematically investigated Guilai Hall’s properties and found the grain storage location within half a day.

Xie Queshan gratefully led men to “rob” the granary, acknowledging Zhang Yuehui as his “big daddy.”

With grain supplies no longer a worry, seeing the Qi people’s frequent stirring, knowing they couldn’t sit still, Xie Queshan predicted they would definitely launch an attack on Xieyang Valley within three days, so he deployed troops in ambush on the high ground on both sides of the valley.

Indeed, on the afternoon of the third day, the Qi army’s vanguard attempted to pass through the valley. The ambush forces launched an attack from the high ground and seemed to gain the upper hand, but unexpectedly the Qi army was already prepared. Their rear guard climbed to the high ground and fought fiercely with the ambush forces. This ambush backfired—instead of catching chickens, they lost rice. The Yu dynasty army fled in disarray.

But Wanyan Pujo and Han Xianwang were very cautious, fearing further ambushes ahead. They promptly sounded the retreat, only testing the waters before giving up.

When the two sides clashed directly, the disparity in strength became apparent. In subsequent skirmishes, even though the Li Du Mansion army had the advantage of terrain, they all ended in great defeat. The Qi army’s vigilance finally relaxed. No longer conservatively probing, they launched fierce attacks, intending to capture Xieyang Valley.

After the entire army entered the valley’s interior, banners suddenly filled the sky, drums and horns sounded together, and elite troops that had been lying in ambush burst from the reed marshes ahead. Each was brave and skilled in battle, fighting ten against one, catching the already relaxed Qi army completely off guard.

It turned out the previous feigned defeats were all part of Xie Queshan’s strategy to lure the enemy deep. The Qi people had encountered no setbacks along the way, inevitably becoming careless and underestimating their opponents. The high ground was also recaptured, arrows and rolling stones deployed together. When the Qi army wanted to retreat, their rear guard couldn’t turn around in time, momentarily throwing their own formation into chaos, with countless trampled and injured.

The Qi army fled in panic. At this moment, Xie Queshan wanted to lead troops in pursuit, but Ying Huai urgently stopped him.

“This battle has already broken the enemy’s sharp spirit. There are still large forces guarding Luyang Town—don’t pursue a cornered enemy.”

Xie Queshan reined in his horse, his iron armor stained with blood, the eyes visible beneath his helmet showing resolute battle intent.

“The goal is precisely to let the Qi army enter Luyang Town with the fear of being pursued. Only if they have the slightest fear and intention to retreat will we have a chance to turn the tables afterward.”

“All troops, hear my command—follow me in pursuit of the enemy!” With this cry, like the King of Hell’s final judgment, the Yu dynasty army swept away their previous defeat’s dejection, their battle cries shaking the heavens.

Ying Huai watched Xie Queshan’s figure decisively charging into the enemy army and suddenly felt a surge of shock in his heart. Every sword he swung cut down past hatred and humiliation. He had harbored hatred for too many years and could finally declare his position with complete satisfaction at this moment. He was an uncrowned king—wherever he went, he would surely be invincible. Ying Huai hesitated no more and followed that figure, killing his way into the enemy formation.

Flames licked at the wild grass and reed marshes. Black masses of soldiers surged like tides, their clanging footsteps seeming to shake the very valley. The towering cliffs on both sides were majestic and oppressive, their echoes amplifying the brutality of the slaughter, making the valley seem like an extremely deep coffin.

Under such momentum, after the Qi army retreated into the town, Han Xianwang, who claimed to have fifty thousand troops, dared not open the city gates to fight again.

Han Xianwang couldn’t figure out how many soldiers Li Du Mansion actually had. In his eyes, Wanyan Jun had been completely annihilated there, and now in the battle at Xieyang Valley, the Qi army was again routed. Li Du Mansion seemed to possess terrifying combat power.

Moreover, his opponent was Xie Queshan. Having underestimated him once and learned a harsh lesson, he became even more cautious. He was clear about this man’s ability to lead troops. They had once faced each other in the siege of Youdu Mansion, where Xie Queshan had only one thousand prefecture soldiers yet fought back and forth with him for over a month, finally surrendering only because of supply collapse in the rear.

Knowing Han Xianwang’s current conservatism, Xie Queshan also deliberately created some illusions of abundant military strength in the camp to confuse enemy spies.

As long as the Qi army temporarily dared not attack, Li Du Mansion could minimize casualties and hold out until Jinling reinforcements arrived.

Though this battle was won beautifully and greatly boosted army morale, the price paid was also tragic—there were also a hundred casualties.

The battlefield’s aftermath seemed endless, the air still permeated with the smell of blood. Xie Queshan joined everyone in transporting the soldiers’ bodies back for burial, the brief joy also covered by this heaviness.

The price of the battlefield was death.

Xie Queshan knew even more people would die. But “not returning until breaking through Loulan” was their belief, and being wrapped in horse leather was the greatest respect for warriors.

After finishing all this and returning to camp, it was already the next day’s daylight.

By this time, Xie Queshan had not closed his eyes for nearly three days. Only after removing his armor did he feel a trace of fatigue creeping up his body, but there were too many matters in the military camp. He still needed to calculate countermeasures in case the Qi people came to their senses and launched a fierce counterattack, and deal with the still stubborn spies in the city…

He forced himself to continue, still appearing unaffected, striding toward the camp.

Suddenly, a pair of slightly cool hands grasped his hand, startling him awake.

It was a different sensation from the sword hilt he usually held. He looked sideways to see a handsome young soldier standing beside him, holding his hand with both hands, gently shaking it.

Xie Queshan suddenly smiled.

The young soldier was Nanyi. She hadn’t stayed in the rear quarters either, but had volunteered to join the scout battalion. Scouts mainly reconnoitered enemy intelligence, and her agility and acuity were perfect for the job. In the previous feigned defeats against the Qi people, she had nimbly traveled back and forth, providing intelligence on the vanguard.

“Come with me.”

This was a moment when they could relax slightly. Nanyi didn’t wait for Xie Queshan’s response and simply pulled him toward the hillside without explanation.

The military camp was stationed in a mountain hollow outside Li Du Mansion’s outer walls, with lush green small hills behind it. The wind in the mountains in early summer was still very refreshing, blowing against their faces and relieving the body’s stuffiness.

Nanyi pulled him to sit under a patch of tree shade and took the initiative to help him remove his helmet.

Xie Queshan let her do as she pleased. Though there were still many complex affairs waiting for him, at this moment he also wanted to stay quietly with her for a while—just a while.

Nanyi sat beside him without saying anything, only tearing off a corner of her robe to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Are you tired?” Nanyi asked.

Xie Queshan instinctively wanted to say he wasn’t tired, but before the words could slip out, undeniable fatigue made him honestly swallow them back.

“A little,” he answered hoarsely.

She tilted her head and smiled: “After last night’s great victory, I was waiting for you to return. They said you were clearing the battlefield and didn’t know when you’d come back. I waited and waited until I fell asleep—slept quite well actually.”

Xie Queshan finally smiled, rubbing her face: “You could sleep even if the sky fell down.”

He had heavy concerns and always slept lightly.

“Sleep now. I’ll keep watch for you.”

“Hm?” Xie Queshan was startled, seeing Nanyi’s determined expression, but still somewhat uncertain, “Now? Here?”

Xie Queshan thought that since they hadn’t had any private space for many days, she also wanted a tender moment. He didn’t expect that after all this trouble, she simply wanted him to sleep here.

“Yes, if you’re in the camp, you’ll be entangled with various affairs and unable to rest for a moment. No one will disturb you here, so sleep for a while—” When Xie Queshan didn’t respond, Nanyi became anxious and added, “If you don’t rest properly, forget about fighting enemies—you’ll have a heart attack in the military camp today! Are you made of iron? Don’t be disobedient. Didn’t I say sharpening the axe doesn’t delay chopping wood? If you rest for a bit, it won’t delay anything.”

Seeing her serious and urgent eyes, he laughed: “Alright, alright, I’ll sleep.”

Nanyi glared, frowning: “Then close your eyes.”

Xie Queshan obediently closed his eyes.

But the sun was getting rather glaring now. Nanyi pulled out a prepared silk ribbon from her sleeve and carefully helped him tie it on.

Xie Queshan silently complied. He could feel her open arms going around to the back of his head, her movements gentle and careful, not daring to touch him. Though he had just closed his eyes and couldn’t possibly fall asleep, she treated him like porcelain, as if he would shatter at a touch. She seemed to be tying an intricate knot, her face coming closer, her breath very near, her fingers occasionally brushing against his neck almost imperceptibly.

After the ribbon covered his eyes, most of the sunlight was blocked out. She had created a patch of sleep-inducing darkness for him, and he inexplicably felt an indescribable comfort in his heart.

Then she withdrew her hands and seemed about to move back. He raised his hand and pulled her waist toward him, and she lost her balance and fell into his embrace.

“Don’t move. Sleep time.” Just as she was about to struggle up, he preempted her with shameless authority.

Nanyi had no choice but to nestle in his embrace, thinking that if he felt he could sleep better this way, then so be it—she would accommodate him in everything.

Stealing half a day of leisure from a floating life. The sunlight warmed them pleasantly, while still air shuttled through the gaps in the leaves.

Xie Queshan thought he wouldn’t fall asleep, but in just a moment, he began snoring softly.

The joy of victory and his lover’s companionship let him briefly lay down his guard, sleeping peacefully in the open wilderness. Everything was just right—he had never felt the future was so bright.