Bu Liu turned his head and jumped in shock.

At some unknown time, the beard on the General’s chin had all turned white—not one black hair remained. The thin layer of skin connected to the beard also sagged down.

Looking further up, his hair was also completely white. His eyes no longer shone brightly but resembled a candle nearly burned to its end, already deformed from burning.

His appearance had scattered, his spirit had scattered too.

Indescribably aged.

But how could this be?

A month ago, the General had been bare-chested, engaging in close combat with them on the training ground.

A soldier was knocked down by him. He raised his head and shouted: “Send up another brat—don’t want those with soft hands and feet. Want a sturdy one.”

“General.”

Fury suddenly surged up in him. “Did that eunuch secretly make you suffer?”

The General’s eyes widened: “He wouldn’t dare!”

Not the eunuch, then the Prince of Han.

Bu Liu self-righteously blamed the Prince of Han in his heart.

These dragon sons and grandsons were all show—knew nothing about real warfare, just causing the General trouble.

And calling himself Commander-in-Chief—did he think everyone was blind?

This Prince of Han wanted to gild himself on the northern battlefield so he could return and compete with the Crown Prince for the throne!

“General, you shouldn’t have taken this hot potato from the start. Even if you did, you should have been Commander-in-Chief with absolute authority.”

Old General looked at Bu Liu.

“Liu-zi, in a person’s life, not every step can be right. Now that we’re here, I don’t want to look back or have regrets. It’s all fated.”

His eyes lowered, his large hand patting his beloved horse, saying heavily: “Gatherings and partings aren’t up to people. Life and death aren’t up to people. Each must accept their fate.”

These words made Bu Liu’s heart ache indescribably.

Yes, once the General retired, they could only go their separate ways, each accepting their fate.

“Miss Yan, when I now repeatedly ponder and savor these few sentences, I realize the General was speaking with hidden meaning. Unfortunately, I was as stupid as anything then and couldn’t comprehend at all.”

“There was indeed hidden meaning.”

Using Bu Liu’s words as a lead-in, he expressed the sighs in Zheng Yu’s own heart. Beneath the calm expression lay immense pain unknown to anyone. That pain tore at him, devoured him, day and night, transforming him in mere days from a spirited general into a dejected old man, unable to generate even half a measure of heroic ambition.

Yan Sanhe’s eyes closed slightly. Her voice trembled: “Then he… exactly how did he die in battle?”

Asked about this, Bu Liu’s face showed indescribable vexation.

They campaigned to the northern territories in the seventh year of Yonghe. In one year’s time, even the dumbest soldier in the Zheng Family Army could see the Prince of Han was a mediocre man with grand ambitions but shallow talents.

Not only did he lack strategy, he was somewhat arrogant and conceited.

The three battles the great army lost were all from his troop deployments and formations, dragging the campaign until September.

By September the northern territories entered winter. The weather was already very cold.

The soldiers had been away from home over a year. Who didn’t think of wives, children, and elderly parents at home? Who wasn’t desperate to return?

If the campaign dragged until next spring, after the Tatars rested through the long winter, their troops would be fat and horses strong. The Hua Kingdom soldiers would slowly exhaust their morale in longing and boredom.

Wasn’t this repeating Song Zhiyu’s mistakes?

They must fight quickly and decisively.

The Hua Kingdom great army wanted a quick decisive battle. The Tatars didn’t.

They weren’t stupid either. They also knew that after dragging through this winter, the campaign would favor them. So they dispersed their forces.

Bu Liu led people out dozens of times to scout, yet could never discover where the Tatar main force was hiding.

This was fatal.

At this point, Old General proposed a method—use himself as bait to lure out the Tatar main force.

In the Hua Kingdom’s several large-scale battles with the Tatars, all were led by Old General. The Tatars hated him to the bone.

This time when Old General campaigned again, the Tatars released harsh words—they would cut off Old General’s head to memorialize the souls who died under his blade.

More importantly—

Old General was the backbone of this northern campaign. The Tatars understood clearly that as long as they killed Old General, the Prince of Han—that coward—posed no threat. The Hua Kingdom great army would surely be defeated.

The plan was a good plan, but too dangerous. How could a dignified great general expose himself to danger?

But to win the battle, to eat New Year’s dinner with family before New Year’s Eve, using Old General as bait was the simplest and most effective stratagem.

The Commander-in-Chief’s tent lamp burned for three full days and nights. Finally they formulated a plan—

It would begin with a fight between Zheng Family Army soldiers and the Prince of Han’s soldiers.

This would trigger conflict between the General and Prince of Han.

The General was dissatisfied with the Prince of Han’s interfering commands. The Prince of Han was disgusted by the General’s relying on seniority.

Two tigers couldn’t share one mountain. To avoid conflict, the General would lead the Zheng Family Army and relocate to Black Mountain City three hundred li away for winter.

The Tatars would get this news and definitely wouldn’t miss this opportunity. They’d dispatch troops en masse to besiege Black Mountain City.

The Zheng Family Army had twenty thousand troops. The Tatars would deploy at least forty thousand. Once they deployed troops, they’d expose their main force’s location.

The Prince of Han would lead troops to first annihilate the Tatar main force, then come support Black Mountain City.

Old General needed to hold out in Black Mountain City for seven full days, waiting for the Prince of Han’s reinforcements.

Yan Sanhe: “How many troops did Old General actually take?”

Bu Liu was shocked. After a long while he answered: “Only five thousand.”

Yan Sanhe: “Meaning Old General had to use five thousand men to defend an empty city for seven full days, with forty thousand Tatar elite troops outside the city.”

Bu Liu: “Correct.”

Yan Sanhe clenched her fists: “Why lead so few troops?”

Bu Liu took a deep breath. “To ensure the Prince of Han’s side was foolproof, Old General could take at most five thousand troops.”

Yan Sanhe: “In this plan’s formulation, did Yan Ruxian participate?”

Bu Liu: “Miss Yan, this isn’t something a small Vice Captain like me could know.”

Yan Sanhe: “How many days did the General hold out?”

Bu Liu: “Seven full days.”

Yan Sanhe: “Reinforcements didn’t arrive?”

Bu Liu: “Reinforcements were two hours late.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice shook: “Why late?”

Bu Liu: “Because the road to Black Mountain City passed through two narrow passes that could only fit one person and one horse at a time. It delayed things.”

Yan Sanhe: “So the General just died in battle like this.”

“Yes!”

Bu Liu’s eyes heated up. Tears nearly fell.

When the reinforcements led by the Prince of Han reached Black Mountain City, the city gates stood wide open. Corpse after corpse was piled like mountains. The air was thick with the heavy smell of blood.

Everyone in the Zheng Family Army, like madmen, desperately charged into the city, searching for Old General’s figure.

Suddenly, everyone’s footsteps stopped. Gazes converged on a pile of corpses not far away.

In the middle of that pile of corpses knelt a white-haired old man.

The old man’s head was bowed. His body was pierced full of long swords. Blood had dyed his armor completely red.

His right hand gripped the flagpole tightly. Above the flagpole hung a tattered piece of cloth.

The wind lifted the torn cloth, revealing the character “Zheng” emblazoned in gold.

The old man’s white hair was also blown by the wind, revealing a familiar face.

A pain struck every heart in the Zheng Family Army. Legs buckled as they knelt straight down.

“Old—Gen—er—al!”

The deafening cry resounded through all of Black Cloud City, making Bu Liu’s eardrums throb and ring.

Two streams of tears slid down his face.

General, didn’t we agree that when we returned to the capital, we two would have a good drink together?