Gradually, murmurs arose within the army. After entering the desert, Qing Xia had told these imperial warriors the purpose of this expedition, both to stabilize military morale and because in this isolated desert, there was no fear of the news leaking out.
Qing Xia remained silent and suddenly lifted her foot, walking step by step into the pools of blood.
The grass everywhere had been dyed blood red. All the corpses of women and children lay in grotesque positions—the elderly with white hair were seventy or eighty years old, the youngest were still in swaddling clothes, and some young women had their pants half torn off, their lower bodies bloody and mutilated, clearly showing the humiliating manner of their deaths. The ground was scattered with belongings from herder families. The cattle and sheep had long since vanished without a trace. Apart from this group of speechless Nanchu people, only the clamoring eagles and vultures remained, shrieking continuously and showing no fear of humans.
Aluobei’s retching sounds still echoed harshly in the air. All the Chu soldiers’ eyes were somewhat red. They were the empire’s elite, born of upper-class clans, well-educated, and the most courageous warriors on the battlefield with sharp blades. They could follow their king to the ends of the earth and kill all fierce enemies, but their blades had never been turned against defenseless civilians. Even Huang Biao, who had once cooperated with Qing Xia to carry out extermination plans, had never conducted such large-scale slaughter. Everyone’s faces were somewhat pale, agitated emotions churning in their chests. Some faces gradually turned white, their eyes bloodshot, their fists clenched tightly.
Aluobei’s murmuring voice continuously assaulted everyone’s eardrums. The red-clothed girl bit her lips, her small face full of anger, repeating “devils, devils” over and over like sharp knives stabbing into everyone’s hearts.
With a clang, a soldier’s long sword suddenly fell to the ground, the blade striking stone with a crisp sound. Angry emotions quickly spread through the army. Some soldiers simply removed their helmets and threw them hard on the ground to vent their fury.
They had traveled ten thousand li only to rescue the aloof, resolute, mountain-swallowing king in their hearts, the emperor they had sworn to follow unto death. Yet after risking life and limb to enter the desert, they faced such a bloody reality.
Traveled ten thousand li only to follow a demon?
“What are you all doing? Planning a rebellion?” Song Yang turned around and shouted angrily. Seeing a soldier about to remove his armor bearing the Great Chu military insignia, he flew into a rage and drew his sword with a swish.
The blade was sharp, just pointing at the soldier’s neck when swishing sounds rang out together. More than twenty soldiers simultaneously drew their swords, standing behind that soldier, their blades glinting coldly as they aimed at Song Yang’s chest. Song Yang’s black-clad guards saw this and angrily drew their swords as well. Cold gleams faced each other, killing intent pervaded the air, while other Nanchu soldiers stood around watching with various thoughts.
This force of Nanchu elite troops who had shared life and death, supporting each other throughout their journey, finally developed rifts at this moment, turning blades against each other with drawn swords and taut crossbows.
At this moment, a light but cold voice suddenly rang out. The young general stood among the corpses, crouching on the ground, carefully examining those already rotting and stinking bodies. Without even glancing this way, she said indifferently: “Do you all think I’m dead?”
The voice wasn’t loud, but in an instant it was like a basin of cold water poured over everyone’s heads, immediately clearing all their minds. From Haishi to the northern territories, from the northern territories to Baideng Mountain, from Baideng Mountain to the northwestern desert, this former delicate, brocade-clad young master who had seemed weak and scholarly had deeply awed everyone. No one dared show her the slightest disrespect anymore. Throughout the journey, this thin and frail first-rank court official slept the latest each day, ate the least, lived like an ordinary soldier—even more stoically than ordinary soldiers. She was strategically brilliant with unparalleled wisdom, broad knowledge, and understanding of the northern territories that exceeded even guides who had lived there for years. No one didn’t admire her in their hearts.
Ten thousand pairs of eyes turned in unison, watching their leader standing among the corpses, continuously turning over those dead bodies. Everyone was greatly puzzled, and within their confusion was even some hope.
Qing Xia examined the corpses for a long time, finally slowly standing up and walking before everyone. Her sharp gaze swept over the soldiers who had drawn swords earlier as she said coldly without a trace of emotion: “Is what the eyes see necessarily true?”
“My lord.”
“Kneel down!” A soldier had just started to argue when Qing Xia’s eyebrow arched and she suddenly shouted sternly. The soldier was startled and stood stubbornly in place, his eyes full of defiance, still wanting to say something. Unfortunately, before he could open his mouth, Qing Xia kicked heavily at his knee with a bang. The soldier immediately knelt on the ground, his face flushed red as he tried to stand up stubbornly, only to discover the governor’s scabbard pressing firmly on his shoulder, making him unable to move at all. With a skillful maneuver, the soldier’s head crashed to the ground with a thud.
“This kowtow isn’t for me.”
Qing Xia’s face was grave as water. She extended her other hand, two gold ingots clutched within, still stained with blood, which fell to the ground with two thuds. Everyone looked over strangely and saw they were clearly Central Plains treasures with the Chu Emperor’s brilliant seal carved on them—clearly Nanchu currency.
“A soldier who doesn’t want to become a general isn’t a good soldier. You’re all elite of our Great Chu. Do you want to be mere foot soldiers for life?” Qing Xia’s brow furrowed lightly as she said slowly in a deep voice: “Think more about everything. Song Yang, go strip a corpse and bring it here.”
Song Yang acknowledged the order and dragged a corpse over, emitting a truly foul stench. This was an old woman over sixty years old with a fatal wound at her neck, covered in dark red blood stains. The blood on her neck had coagulated, and her chest and abdomen had been pecked by eagles and vultures until white bones showed through—a terrifying sight.
Qing Xia crouched before the corpse, took out a water pouch, poured it on the old woman’s neck, and without minding the filth, used her hands to wipe the dried blood from her neck, gradually revealing the finger-length wound. She raised her head and said solemnly to the soldiers: “The war blades used by the Nanjiang border army are cast from Nanjiang cold iron, ranking third among continental sword handles, inferior only to the black-clad guards’ Refined Edge Blades and North Qin’s Glazed Snow Iron. Their greatest advantage is sharpness, hardness, resistance to breaking, and wide blade backs. On the battlefield, when cutting into enemy bones, they can be quickly withdrawn without getting stuck in bones or breaking and chipping. You’ve all had contact with the Nanjiang border army. Think—if such a blade struck this old woman’s neck, what effect would it have?”
Everyone pondered. A veteran in his thirties suddenly said: “Then this lady’s head would surely be severed.”
“Correct!” Qing Xia clapped her hands, stood up, and pointed to the two treasures on the ground: “These two gold ingots were just picked up, clutched in a woman’s arms—presumably not stuffed in there by someone afterward. So think again carefully—why would she have our Great Chu’s ingots?”
The soldiers in the field remained silent. Qing Xia continued: “His Majesty’s expedition beyond the frontier carried limited provisions. Seeing settlements, he obviously purchased horses and grain from them. If he wanted to kill them, why would he pretend to pay money before killing them? Here there are only women, children, and elderly with no combat capability. His Majesty commands thirty thousand troops—if he wanted to kill, how would these people have a chance to fight back? Yet there are still unsheathed curved blades here, clearly someone had a chance to draw swords and resist when the fighting began. I ask you—if our Nanchu army had come here, how would we give them a chance to counterattack? Moreover, would soldiers panic enough to lose their helmets? Furthermore, the weapons don’t match, the wounds are completely inconsistent with weapons used by the Nanjiang border army. With so many suspicious points laid out here, instead of thinking about the reasons within, you act rashly like this. Do you know your crime?”
Her earlier words had been calm and even-tempered, but her voice grew deeper toward the end, and by the final two sentences, there was already a sharp edge, cutting like metal and stone.
The twenty-odd soldiers who had drawn swords frowned and pondered carefully. One soldier suddenly knelt on the ground with a bang, and the others followed suit, saying solemnly: “We subordinates were confused.”
Qing Xia turned around, her eyes half-narrowed, looking at the Xiongnu civilians lying in pools of blood throughout the field. She suddenly took a deep breath and said slowly: “The enemy has already come. Someone is framing us. If we don’t hurry, something terrible will happen.”
That evening they camped west of the Tukuohun tribe. Everyone was heavy-hearted. With unknown enemies lurking nearby with unclear intentions, even though they had superior numbers, in such an unfamiliar place they still felt some worry.
Song Yang brought over roasted flatbread and placed it before Qing Xia, saying: “We must travel again tomorrow. Please eat something.”
Qing Xia nodded and picked up the meat-filled bread, taking small bites.
“My lord,” Song Yang hesitated, then after thinking, still said in a low voice: “What you said today—was it true?”
Qing Xia’s movements immediately stopped. She slowly turned her head to look at Song Yang and said: “You saw through it?”
“This subordinate was just somewhat suspicious. Besides broad-backed blades, some in the Nanjiang border army do use short swords. According to what this subordinate knows, the weapons of the Nanjiang barbarians are even more varied in types and styles, and their strikes have always been most vicious and untamable, very difficult to tame.”
While eating, Qing Xia said matter-of-factly: “You’re right. I was lying. Those two gold ingots—I took them from my own pocket.”
“My lord?” Song Yang was startled and exclaimed loudly.
Qing Xia glanced at him sideways and said: “If you want the entire army to mutiny, just keep speaking louder.”
Song Yang was filled with shock and doubt. After a long while, he said incredulously: “Could it really have been His Majesty who did this?”