Chapter 22: Capturing the King

Just as a section of the north gate wall was breached by dozens of elite Xiongnu soldiers, the defenders were almost completely slaughtered, and the defense line was on the verge of collapse! Deep in the Xiongnu camp, near the direction of the Chanyu's golden tent, a huge chaos suddenly broke out!

Flames shot up into the sky! Not just one, but several! The blazing flames instantly engulfed several massive tents, tongues of flame licking the predawn darkness furiously, illuminating half the sky in crimson. Chaotic shouts, the neighing of panicked horses, and angry roars drifted faintly across the distance, like a seething tide!

The Hun soldiers attacking the city suddenly stopped and looked back in astonishment.

"It's Cui Jijiu! He succeeded!" a sharp-eyed captain shouted hoarsely, his voice filled with incredible ecstasy.

Shen Zijie felt a surge of scalding blood rushing to his head, nearly making him dizzy. Wang Rong's second force of 6,000 reinforcements arrived. Shen Zijie swung his sword and chopped down an enemy who rushed in front of him, screaming with all his might, "Reinforcements! Our reinforcements are here! Kill! Kill them all!"

This sudden change and Shen Zijie's roar were like a shot of adrenaline injected into the bodies of those in desperate situations. The defenders on the crumbling city wall roared like a dying counterattack, and their eyes, once numb and hopeless, rekindled with a fierce light.

The Huns below the city, seeing the fire in the camp, were instantly shaken and their offensive was in disarray. Under the defenders' frenzied counterattack, the enemies who climbed up the city walls were quickly wiped out, and the following troops began to retreat in a hurry.

In the chaos, Shen Zijie's eyes were like a searchlight, fixed on the edge of the Hun camp where flames shot up into the sky.

Suddenly, a stumbling figure stumbled out of the chaotic camp, desperately running towards Xunyang City! The figure was covered in blood, his tattered fur coat almost torn into strips, fluttering wildly in the wind. One arm was twisted unnaturally, obviously severed, while the other hand was tightly clutched to his chest, as if protecting something more important than his life. Behind him, several fierce Xiongnu cavalrymen were chasing him, their scimitars flashing with the cold light of death in the firelight!

It’s Cui Junji!

"Open the side door! Lower the drawbridge! Quick!" Shen Zijiu's eyes were bloodshot, his roar nearly ripping his throat. He was already exhausted, but then he saw a figure sprint down the city wall like an arrow, heading straight for the narrow side door reserved for emergency use, and with a whip, she swept Cui Junji in.

The heavy side door struggled to open a crack with a teeth-grinding creak, and the drawbridge crashed down. Cui Junji practically tumbled in the instant the drawbridge touched the ground.

Behind him, a whistling wolf-tooth arrow "snapped" and deeply nailed into the door panel that had just closed, and the tail of the arrow was still vibrating violently!

"Cui Junji!" Shen Zijie rushed forward and grasped the body that had collapsed like a blood gourd. His touch was hot and sticky, and he couldn't tell whether it was blood or sweat.

Cui Junji's face was as pale as a human's, his lips were cracked and purple, his eyes were tightly closed, and his breathing was so weak that it was almost imperceptible. The hands he held to his chest were covered with black and red blood scabs between his fingers.

Wen Youqing took the whip from Cui Junji's waist and immediately tied his thighs with a cloth strip to stop the bleeding from his calves.

"Military doctor! Call a military doctor!" Shen Zijie roared behind him, his voice trembling with a tremor that he himself did not notice.

He carefully removed Cui Junji's protective hand from his chest, only to see the blood-soaked lining of his tattered leather coat, tightly attached to a palm-sized, hard object wrapped tightly in oilcloth and leather rope. The oilcloth, tightly protected by Cui Junji's body and broken arm, miraculously remained unpierced by the arrow.

Shen Zijie's heart sank. He didn't know medicine, but he could tell Cui Junji was already on his last legs. Excessive blood loss, severe internal injuries, and the exhaustion of the long march... He didn't dare think any further.

"Hold on! Cui Junji! Hold on for me!" Shen Zijie picked up Cui Junji on his back. His body was so light that it seemed as if only bones were left.

"You should go and rest." Wen Youqing was worried about Shen Zijie's health, so she put Cui Junji on the cart, took big strides, and ran wildly on the chaotic streets, rushing towards the temporary camp for wounded soldiers in the city.

Cui Junji was silent in the car, with only his weak, bloody breath spraying intermittently on the side of his neck. She could feel the fire of life on her back rapidly fading away.

"Hold on! Do you hear me? Stay alive!" Shen Zijie, who was following beside him, roared, as if he was ordering Cui Junji, or as if he was fighting against the suffocating despair.

The road ahead had never been so long. He had only one thought: Carry him back! Carry him back!

After experiencing such things, Shen Zijie knew very well that he could not get close to Cui Junji just by taking advantage of him. They were brothers after sharing their lives together.

Of course, Wen Youqing also felt the change in Shen Zijie. She lowered her eyes and looked at the dying Cui Junji, feeling a complicated feeling. But she was more worried about whether Shen Zijie would really open up to Cui Junji. A normal person would not make the wrong choice for the sake of family and country, but this person was so cunning, was he really suitable for confiding in?

As the two pondered their own thoughts, the bloody dawn finally tore through the night. As the first ray of pale light barely illuminated Cloud City, the Hun army outside the city slowly withdrew like a receding tide, leaving behind a devastated landscape and a desolate city almost soaked in blood.

The exhausted soldiers leaned against the broken battlements, and many of them fell asleep without even having the energy to cheer.

The wounded camp was filled with a strong smell of blood and the bitter taste of herbs, and groans were heard one after another.

Cui Junji lay quietly on a simple wooden bed in the innermost room. His face was still pale, but his chest was finally rising and falling slightly.

An old military doctor with white hair and beard had just re-bandaged the deep and almost fatal knife wound on his chest, which was so deep that the bone was visible, and fixed his broken arm. He was now wiping the sweat from his forehead tiredly.

"He's saved his life," the old military doctor whispered hoarsely to Shen Zijie, who was guarding the bed, and Wen Youqing, who had rushed over after hearing the news. "The knife wound was just a hair's breadth away from his lung. He lost too much blood and suffered severe internal injuries... He survived by holding on with his last breath. Whether he wakes up depends on his luck."

Shen Zijie's tense nerves finally relaxed a little, and he felt as if all the bones in his body were falling apart, and the old injury on his shoulder was burning with pain.

He nodded silently, his eyes fixed on the oilcloth package beside Cui Junji's pillow. The package had been carefully removed and remained unopened.

Wen Youqing silently stepped forward and gently wiped the blood off Cui Junji's face and neck with a damp, clean cloth. No matter how much resentment she harbored towards him, it couldn't erase her admiration for him, and her movements became meticulous and focused.

When she brushed against Cui Junji's clenched right hand, she was slightly startled. Even in his coma, that hand was tightly grasping something.

She carefully pried open his cold fingers, revealing a small, blood-soaked bronze arrowhead. At the tail of the arrowhead, an extremely tiny coiled dragon mark representing the Prince's guard was clearly visible.

Wen Youqing's hand trembled violently. She raised her head, looked at Shen Zijie, and silently handed the arrowhead to him.

Shen Zijie took the cold arrowhead, his fingertips rubbing the clear coiled dragon mark as if touching a venomous snake. His face was expressionless, only deep in his eyes, surging with rage and cold murderous intent that could burn everything.

He glanced at Cui Junji who was still unconscious, then looked at the bloody arrowhead in his hand, and finally, his gaze fell on the oilcloth package that was motionless.

"Guard him well." Shen Zijie's voice was as low as thunder, and he spoke only three words to Wen Youqing. He picked up the oilcloth package, turned, and strode out of the barracks, which was filled with the smell of pain and medicine. Each step felt incredibly heavy, as if it wasn't the earth beneath his feet, but the still-warm corpses of countless soldiers.