Chapter Forty-Seven
Battlefield between Yunxiu Kingdom and Xijin.
Zhao Shu witnessed one appalling scene after another, and he finally understood why Mo Yinghuo's face always flickered with uncertainty whenever he heard about the 200,000 surrendered soldiers of the Western Jin.
"Your Highness, Vice Generals Gongliang and Shurong have successfully cut off the connection between the Xijin front lines and the supply lines behind them," a soldier rushed into Mo Yinghuo's tent and knelt on one knee to report.
"Alright, withdraw the troops and order a desperate defense." A cold smile appeared on Mo Yinghuo's lips. Blood seeped slightly from the corner of her eyes, and her silver armor was cracked in many places. One of her hands was wrapped in a red bandage. Zhao Shu stood beside her and only after a closer look did he realize that the bandage itself was white.
Clearly, the Yunzhao army and the Xijin soldiers had just fought a fierce battle.
After hearing Mo Yinghuo say that she was withdrawing her troops, Zhao Shu knew her intentions and felt a chill in his heart. She wanted to wear down and starve the 200,000 soldiers of Xijin.
...
The Xijin soldiers repeatedly broke through the encirclement at any cost, while the Yunzhao army held their ground and held on to the bitter end. The desperate breakouts and the do-or-die sieges went on and on, and this most dangerous war the Yunzhao army had ever experienced had lasted for nearly half a month.
Mo Yinghuo sat in the tent with bloodshot eyes, her silver armor stained with blood that was hard to tell whether it was her own or that of the enemy.
Captain Chen walked in, looked at the soldiers beside him, and said angrily, "Why aren't you calling the medic?"
The soldier was swept away by a gust of wind and flew out of the tent.
Captain Chen: "General, shall we continue to hold out?" At this moment, his condition was not much better than Mo Yinghuo's. However, his calm and kind face made people feel that he should be able to enjoy his old age, so they felt that his injury was not important.
Mo Yinghuo: "Defend. If we give up now, the Yunzhao soldiers who cut off the supply camp and the retreat route of the Xijin soldiers will have died in vain."
Captain Chen: "Yes. General's injuries..."
Mo Yinghuo: "It's alright."
...
Another half month passed, and the soldiers of Yunzhao Army spent their days clutching their swords, waiting anxiously, and then engaged in fierce, chaotic battles. Even the usually calm and collected Zhao Shu felt a chill run down his spine upon witnessing the battlefield between Yunxiu Kingdom and Xijin.
The stench of blood and decay filled his surroundings. Vultures and crows circled overhead. After the fierce battle had ended, in every corner of the military camp, whether it was the camp of the Yunzhao Army or the camp of the Xijin soldiers, there were sounds of wounded soldiers groaning, dying people lamenting, and survivors crying secretly.
Mo Yinghuo was walking outside the military camp when she saw a soldier lying on the ground, barely alive. She went over and helped him up.
"General..." The soldier saw that it was the general coming over, and even helped him up, revealing a youthful smile that belonged to his age.
Whether it was from the bloodlust of the fight or from the sadness in her heart, Mo Yinghuo's eyes reddened, and she responded softly.
Soldier: "General, can I still kill the enemy?"
Mo Yinghuo smiled and nodded, "Yes, of course."
Soldier: "But my stomach hurts, it hurts so much..."
Mo Yinghuo had already seen the soldier; his intestines were spilling out of his abdomen, with knife marks on them. She gently pulled the knife from the soldier's hand and said softly, "Close your eyes and rest. The army doctor will be here soon."
The soldier closed his eyes, the word "good" still stuck in his throat, when a knife was thrust into his heart—the very knife he had just used to kill the enemy.
Mo Yinghuo slowly stood up, his expression unchanged.
Zhao Shu stood to the side the entire time, her gaze fixed solely on the general who was about the same age as the soldier. The unfathomable depth and cold ruthlessness hidden beneath Mo Yinghuo's dark eyes seemed to be a completely different person from the ever-smiling princess she usually knew.
He suddenly felt extremely unfamiliar.
Captain An stared menacingly at the battlefield before him, which resembled a living hell, with his cat-like eyes. He strode up to Mo Yinghuo, cupped his hands, and said, "General, you wanted to see me?"
Mo Yinghuo nodded slightly, his cold eyes shooting towards Captain An's cat-like eyes, and asked calmly, "Captain An, have you ever heard of cannibalism?"
Known for his cruelty and bloodlust, he felt a chill run down his spine when he heard Mo Yinghuo calmly utter those three words. After a moment of contemplation, he held his breath and exhaled deeply, as if making a momentous decision. "General, I have heard."
Mo Yinghuo: "I suspect the Xijin army has already begun their attack. Take a few scouts and infiltrate..." She raised her seemingly innocent eyes, a silver spear in her hand, the tip still bearing traces of enemy blood. A cunning smile appeared on her lips, and she coldly said, "Give them a hand. Then, spread this news throughout the Xijin court and the countryside."
Captain An stood beside Mo Yinghuo, shivering involuntarily. He suddenly felt that his usual ruthless thoughts about killing were practically merciful compared to the general beside him. Captain An paused for a moment, then regained his composure. His cat-like eyes seemed to have caught the scent of prey, and he smiled sinisterly, "Yes, General."
Mo Yinghuo suddenly turned her head, and Zhao Shu's breath hitched. However, having learned from his previous experience, he quickly regained his composure. But then he suddenly realized that Mo Yinghuo's alertness seemed to exceed his expectations. Although she couldn't see him, Zhao Shu knew that Mo Yinghuo could vaguely sense the strangeness beside her.
Zhao Shu couldn't help but admire Zhao Shu's keen intuition.
After Commandant An disappeared for some time, Zhao Shu walked through the Western Jin army camp and learned that Mo Yinghuo's goal had been achieved.
Under the gloomy sky, the Western Jin soldiers who had shared life and death gradually began to deliberately avoid each other's presence. When they met, they would pass by in a hurry and dare not say another word to each other, acting as if they were strangers.
After a bloody battle, there was a truce. The Xijin soldiers were all numb and huddled together, each in their own corner, silent and ignoring one another. A few Xijin soldiers staggered past a seriously wounded soldier, glancing at him intentionally or unintentionally before hurriedly looking away, fleeing with guilt and fear.
As night fell and the night shift was about to begin, Zhao Shu stood outside the tent where Xi Jin was settling the seriously wounded soldiers. He saw several gaunt figures, like ghosts, sneaking into the tent.
"Ah!" A shrill, terrified scream rang out, followed by silence in an instant.
Zhao Shu walked away silently.
...
"General, the Western Jin have sent a letter of surrender." Gongliang Zhong stood beside Mo Yinghuo, and even he, who was always so serious, showed a rare smile. In this war, the Yunzhao army had also paid a heavy price. Even Shu Rong was seriously injured in the enemy's almost frenzied counterattack. Fortunately, he arrived in time to provide support and was saved. At this moment, he was lying in his tent recuperating.
Mo Yinghuo picked up the surrender document, but his expression showed little joy. He turned to Captain An and asked, "How many soldiers does Xijin have left?"
Captain An: "Of the 200,000, besides those who died in battle, there were also those who fell into the trap..." He paused, feeling somewhat unable to say it, and seeing the general expressionlessly throw the surrender document onto the table, he continued, "Only 100,000 are still capable of fighting."
Mo Yinghuo said to Gongliang Zhong, "Report the situation to the imperial court."
A few days later, Chief Steward Pang, with a few guards, galloped to the Yunzhao Army camp.
After being helped off his horse by two soldiers, the steward unfurled an imperial edict.
Mo Yinghuo knelt steadily on one knee.
The head steward cleared his throat, tightened his throat, and spoke in a loud voice, "The surrendered soldiers of Xijin, please handle them properly, Princess."
Zhao Shu stood to the side and noticed that Mo Yinghuo's eyes were lowered, as if he was thinking about something.
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