Scorched earth mourns
When Xiao Yuxuan's team, dragging their weary bodies like the last survivors escaping the frozen hell, finally emerged from the snow-covered mountains bordering Longxi and the North, the scene that suddenly appeared before them instantly pulled them from the biting cold into another, even more suffocating hell.
Blackrock City.
This fortified city, guarding the vital passage from Qin to the northern frontier, was once a formidable stronghold with jagged battlements, fluttering banners, bustling merchants, and a vibrant atmosphere. Now, all that remains is a huge, ugly, black scar, emitting wisps of smoke, branded against the gray sky.
There were no intact city walls. Only massive, broken, collapsed, and blackened stone slabs, like the broken ribs of a giant beast, haphazardly pierced the leaden sky. The city gates were long gone, leaving only a twisted, collapsed, gaping black hole, like the hollowed-out throat of a giant beast, silently swallowing the cold wind and the breath of death. The moat was filled with corpses and rubble, the murky water frozen with dark red icicles. The air was filled with a nauseating stench: a heavy, burnt smell dominated, mixed with the cloying stench of highly decomposed corpses, the pungent acridity of burning lime, and a faint, almost imperceptible, bloody and desperate stench, like the whispers of countless wronged souls.
There were no cheers of victory, only deathly silence. In the silence, there were occasional dying groans or the low growls of wild dogs fighting over carrion.
"Heavens..." Sheng Guo gasped, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were being scraped. Behind him, the exhausted soldiers, including the Yongqiu refugees who had just escaped the snowstorm, all stood frozen in place, their faces drained of color, leaving only boundless fear and numbness. Even the French military commander, who had maintained a gloomy expression the whole way, now stared wide-eyed, his sword-wielding hand trembling slightly.
Xiao Yuxuan reined in his horse. The old wound under his ribs throbbed faintly in the biting wind, but it paled in comparison to the soul-shaking impact of the scene before him. The seal of a hundred generals at his waist now felt as heavy as a thousand-pound boulder. The word "hatred" pierced through the bamboo on the blood-written letter from the artisans of Black Stone Fortress, the numb eyes of the starving corpses scattered across Ghost Cry Gorge, and this utterly destroyed ruin of civilization before him—all these images overlapped and burned fiercely in his mind! Was this the ultimate fate of war? Was this the city and its people, crushed to dust under the "agriculture and war" national policy?!
“Enter the city…search for survivors…collect…remains…” Xiao Yuxuan’s voice was unusually hoarse, each word as if squeezed out from the depths of his throat. He took the lead, riding across the moat “bridge” frozen with dark red ice shards and broken tiles, and through the city gate that resembled the mouth of hell.
Inside the city, the destruction was even more complete than outside.
As far as the eye could see, not a single intact house stood. The crumbling walls, like the fangs of a monstrous beast, pointed jaggedly towards the sky. Charred beams, like withered bones, pierced through the ruins. The once bustling streets were now completely blocked and buried by collapsed construction debris and ashes from the fire. A cold wind howled through the ruins, whipping up black dust and smoldering paper scraps. Several huge piles of embers still emitted thick smoke and a pungent odor.
Corpses. Corpses are everywhere.
Some were pinned down by collapsed beams and boulders, only their twisted limbs visible; others huddled in the charred corners of burned-out house foundations, like charred remains; still others lay exposed on the streets, trampled beyond recognition. Many more were piles of corpses haphazardly heaped at street corners, alleyways, and along city walls. The heavy snow partially covered them, but the biting wind blew it away, revealing the frozen, grotesque faces of the dead beneath. Wild dogs, crows, and even enormous rats roamed and gnawed freely among these piles of corpses, their chewing sounds and hisses chilling to the bone.
"Ugh..." A young recruit in the ranks finally couldn't hold it in any longer, knelt down, and vomited violently. Many others turned pale, covered their mouths and noses tightly, their eyes filled with fear and physical discomfort.
“Plague…” a deep voice, thick with a Longxi accent, murmured. It was a Qin veteran collecting corpses nearby. His face was covered with a coarse linen cloth soaked in vinegar, revealing only a pair of bloodshot, exhausted eyes. “…It started a long time ago. The water…the water is stinking…too many people have died…we couldn’t bury them all…it froze, and it will be even worse in the spring…” His voice was numb, as if he were stating something mundane and unrelated to himself.
Xiao Yuxuan's heart sank to the bottom. The "backlash of malevolent energy" that Yun Youzi had warned of at the camp had come true in the most devastating way in this utterly destroyed city! The war had not only destroyed the walls and houses, but also utterly destroyed the very foundations of survival—water, food, shelter, and the last vestiges of order in people's hearts. This place had become a breeding ground for plague and death!
Just then, a suppressed sobbing and commotion came from a relatively "open" area of broken walls and ruins. Xiao Yuxuan looked in the direction of the sound, and his pupils contracted sharply!
Dozens of emaciated, poorly clothed surviving civilians were being brutally driven away by a squad of Qin soldiers clad in black leather armor and wielding long spears, like livestock to be slaughtered, forced out of a relatively sheltered corner of the ruins! Most of the civilians were sallow and thin, their eyes vacant; some clutched silent infants in swaddling clothes, others supported dying elderly people. They cowered in terror, uttering weak pleas, only to be mercilessly pushed and beaten by the soldiers' cold spear shafts!
"What are you doing!" Xiao Yuxuan spurred his horse forward and shouted sharply. Sheng Guo and the others followed closely behind.
The Qin army platoon leader in charge of driving them away recognized Xiao Yuxuan's centurion's uniform, stopped what he was doing, clasped his hands in salute, but his voice was devoid of warmth: "Reporting to the centurion! By order of the supervising officer, we are carrying out the 'scorched earth' campaign! These refugees, hiding in the ruins, are extremely likely to harbor enemy spies, and there is even a fear that they may carry diseases, contaminate water sources, and bring disaster to our army! They must be driven out of the city immediately and not allowed to linger!"
"Expel them? Expel them to where?!" Xiao Yuxuan's voice trembled slightly with anger as he pointed to the raging snow and vast wilderness outside the city. "Outside, it's freezing cold! The snow is knee-deep! There are wolves and tigers! Expelling them is no different from executing them outright!!"
The sergeant remained expressionless, simply repeating, "This is a military order! I am merely following orders! The city's food and medicine supplies are limited, and priority should be given to the soldiers! These refugees will only deplete military resources and spread the plague! Keeping them will be of no use and will only become a major problem! I urge all officers not to obstruct military affairs!"
"Military orders? Useless?" Xiao Yuxuan abruptly dismounted and strode to the group of shivering refugees. He saw a little girl, emaciated and huddled in her mother's arms, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes, her small hands clutching her mother's tattered clothes. He saw an elderly man with white hair, leaning on a broken cane, coughing violently in the cold wind, each cough spitting out blood. "These are the 'useless' people you speak of?! Who are they? They are citizens of Qin! They are your commoners, like your parents, wives, and children! Their homes are gone, their loved ones are dead, and now they are being swept out of their own country's army like trash, left to freeze to death in the wilderness?!"
He whirled around, glaring at the platoon leader and the soldiers behind him, his voice like icy clashing: "General Bai Yu once said, 'A general's duty is to protect the country and its people!' Qin law is strict, and there are also rules of 'mutual responsibility and mutual assistance among the platoon and its soldiers'! If you drive them out today, the plague will still spread tomorrow! Because the root cause must be removed! The root cause is the corpses filling the city, the polluted water, and the desperate atmosphere of violence! You don't bury the corpses, clean the water, or provide shelter for the living; you only know how to drive them out and kill them. Is this the 'military order' you follow?! Is this what you call 'scorched earth'?!"
Xiao Yuxuan's words struck like a heavy hammer against the silent ruins, and also into the hearts of some of the soldiers nearby. The soldiers who were driving them away looked at each other, their movements slowing involuntarily. The squad leader's face was ashen, his lips moved, but he was speechless for a moment.
"Well said, General Xiao!" A cold and authoritative voice suddenly rang out. The French military commander who had accompanied them all the way, surrounded by several personal guards, stepped forward, parting the crowd. His face bore his usual sinister expression and a hint of barely perceptible mockery. "However, Bai Yu is already a traitor. How can his words be taken as evidence? As for 'collective punishment,' it applies to the law-abiding citizens of our Great Qin, not to these refugees of unknown origin with unclear ties to enemy states!"
He approached, his gaze sweeping over the terrified refugees like a venomous snake, finally settling on Xiao Yuxuan's face. His voice suddenly rose, filled with oppressive force: "General Xiao! You keep talking about 'protecting the country and ensuring the people's safety,' yet you have repeatedly disobeyed military orders! You've taken in refugees, slowing down the march and putting the army in danger! Now you're here spreading rumors and obstructing the 'scorched earth' plan! Do you still have any regard for Qin law and military discipline?! Do you still know the hierarchy between superiors and inferiors?!"
He pointed sharply at the group of refugees and shouted, "I now order you! Immediately carry out the supervisor's order! Drive all these refugees, who may carry disease and undermine morale, out of the city! Anyone who disobeys will be punished as a traitor!"
"How dare you!" Sheng Guo roared, brandishing his halberd and blocking Xiao Yuxuan and the refugees like an enraged lion. His trusted soldiers behind him instinctively gripped their weapons. The atmosphere instantly became tense!
Xiao Yuxuan took a deep breath, the icy air stinging his lungs. The seal of a hundred generals at his waist hung heavily, the blood-written inscription of Black Stone Fortress burning against his chest. He slowly raised his hand and pressed it against Sheng Guo's tense arm. His gaze passed over the tense military commanders, landing on the life shivering in the cold wind, like a candle flickering in the wind. The little girl's terrified eyes pierced his heart like needles.
“My lord,” Xiao Yuxuan’s voice was unusually calm, yet carried an undeniable power, echoing clearly across the desolate ruins, “'Scorched earth' means clearing away supplies that could aid the enemy and destroying roads and bridges that could be used by them. It does not mean slaughtering your own people! Driving them away is not scorching the fields; it creates more corpses and feeds a more ferocious plague! This not only does not help to 'strengthen the walls,' but it is destroying our own foundation!”
He turned abruptly, and facing his still-mobile soldiers and the driven refugees, he issued a loud order, each word ringing out like the clang of metal:
"Pass on my order! One team! Immediately organize men to collect firewood and lime! On the high ground north of the city, in a location far from any water source, dig a deep pit and bury all exposed corpses within the city! There must be no mistakes!"
"Second team! Led by Sheng Guo, search for unpolluted water sources in the city, or chisel through deep ice and snow to set up large pots and boil all drinking water! Also search for usable earthenware jars and water vats to store water!"
"Third Squad! Follow me to clear the ruins in this area. Use the broken walls and rubble to build makeshift shelters to house all the homeless! Take some millet from the surplus rations we brought and cook it into a thin porridge for distribution!"
"The rest of you! Care for the wounded and clean up the filth! Everyone, cover your mouth and nose with a cloth soaked in vinegar. After touching corpses or filth, be sure to wash your hands with boiling water! Anyone who disobeys will be severely punished!"
The series of orders were clear and decisive, pointing directly to the root of the plague—the accumulation of corpses, water sources, filth, and despair! This was not only relief, but also self-salvation! It was the most clumsy yet most fundamental way he had come to understand the "Heavenly Warning" from the snow camp and the wandering cloud!
The soldiers hesitated for a moment, then responded with a resounding "Yes, sir!" Their experiences following Xiao Yuxuan over the past few days, especially the life-saving grace on the snowy mountain, had made them instinctively choose to trust this extraordinary centurion. The refugees were even more stunned, then burst into suppressed sobs and kowtows of gratitude, as if they had survived a catastrophe.
"Xiao Yuxuan! How dare you!" The French military commander trembled with rage, his face turning from pale to purple. His hand slammed onto the hilt of his sword. "You dare to openly defy the supervising officer's orders! You embezzled military rations! You harbored enemy suspects! This military commander..."
"Lord General!" Xiao Yuxuan abruptly interrupted him, his gaze sharp as lightning, piercing the other man. "If you believe this humble general has disobeyed orders, you may execute me on the battlefield! But before that, please look at the land beneath your feet!" He pointed to the child's corpse, mangled beyond recognition by wild dogs amidst the ruins, his voice filled with sorrow and rage. "Look at these! Are they spies from the enemy? Are they the source of unrest in the army?! They are merely Qin people who couldn't escape! They are your comrades! They are the masters of this land! If you drive them away today, and the plague rages and the army collapses in the future, can you bear the responsibility of 'fortifying the walls'?! Can the supervising officer bear it?! Or is it that in your eyes, there are only cold laws and orders from superiors, but no room for the last trace of life in these ruins?!"
The French military commander was rendered speechless by Xiao Yuxuan's barrage of questions and his sorrowful gaze. His hand on his sword froze in mid-air, his face alternating between red and white. The surrounding soldiers, whether Xiao Yuxuan's subordinates or the military commander's personal guards, all cast complex glances at the refugees struggling for survival amidst the ruins and the small corpse. A silent question permeated the air.
Just then, a slender figure silently appeared in the shadow of a broken wall. It was Yun Youzi. He was still wearing his faded dark blue Taoist robe, its wide sleeves fluttering slightly in the cold wind. He didn't look at the tense standoff, nor at the weeping refugees. His gaze calmly swept over the piled corpses, over the filthy icicles, and over the several strangely colored puddles of water amidst the ruins, exuding an ominous aura. He took a deep breath of the foul air, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, as if savoring the bitterness that settled after some imbalance of heaven and earth. Then, he slowly walked to an old locust tree not far away, stubbornly protruding from a crack in the ruins, its half-charred but still with a few withered leaves trembling in the wind. He sat cross-legged beneath the tree, closed his eyes, and remained silent, as if he had merged with this scorched earth and mournful cries, becoming a silent footnote observing the ways of heaven.
Xiao Yuxuan ignored the frozen French military commander. He strode towards the group of refugees, personally helping up the old man coughing up blood, and handing him the water pouch from his waist. He walked to the mother holding the little girl, squatted down, and took out a small, hard, but potentially life-saving piece of dried meat from his pocket, gently placing it in the little girl's cold hand.
“Don’t be afraid,” his voice was low and firm, like a pebble thrown into an icy pond amidst this despairing ruin, “As long as you have a breath left, live on! Bury the dead! Clean up the dirty water! Build shelters! Start fires! Cook porridge!”
At his command, the soldiers and refugees seemed to be infused with a faint yet tenacious strength. Sheng Guo roared and led his men towards the pile of corpses, beginning the nauseating but necessary cremation and burial. The soldiers smashed through the ice and set up large cauldrons. The refugees, suppressing their grief and weakness, under the soldiers' guidance, used broken wood, tattered mats, and even tattered enemy shields to build makeshift shelters amidst the ruins, barely offering protection from the wind and cold. Wisps of smoke began to rise laboriously from the sky above this land of death.
On the scorched earth, cries of anguish filled the air. But on this cold canvas of death, filth, and despair, a faint flame called "life" was burning tenaciously, amidst the cremation of corpses, the boiling of sewage, the construction of shacks, and the aroma of rice porridge. Protected by Xiao Yuxuan's belief in "stopping war," and under the silent gaze of Yun Youzi who saw through the ways of heaven, it attempted to dispel the pervasive malevolence and the shadow of death.
On the edge of the bustling crowd, an old craftsman, huddled in a corner of a newly built shack, coughing violently, trembled as he pulled a black piece of wood from his robes, its edges worn smooth by constant rubbing. On the wood, a faint, blurry mark of a broken knife, seemingly suspended in mid-air, was visible. His cloudy eyes stared intently at the mark, then gazed at the composed Xiao Yuxuan in the distance, muttering words no one could hear. A trickle of dark red blood silently oozed from the corner of his cracked lips.
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