Chapter 8 A Flawless Hand Dares to Hold Up Half the Sky (Part Two) Ye Yixiang took half a step forward...
Why haven't the reinforcements arrived?
His heart sank. Before setting off, he had given a clear order: if they did not return by dawn, reinforcements would be immediately dispatched to support them along the marked lines.
There's absolutely no problem with the marking, unless... something major has happened inside the camp, or... someone has a change of heart!
Chu Huaili slowly scanned the area behind him. Fewer than five people were still able to stand. Each of them wore blood-stained uniforms, was covered in wounds, and could only support their exhausted bodies by leaning against their dulled weapons.
These were his brothers who had followed him through thick and thin for many years, battle-hardened veterans who had fought their way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
If they do not surrender, this very place will be their final resting place. In this life, they may never again see their families who are eagerly awaiting their return…
As Geshu Lin rode his magnificent black horse, he slowly approached. His gaze swept over the mess on the ground and the few men still standing upright, finally settling on Chu Huaili. His eyes held a mixture of admiration and regret: "General Chu is indeed a rare and fierce general! His military tactics are divine, his loyalty and bravery are unparalleled, and he loves his soldiers like his own children! I truly admire him!"
He then changed the subject, his tone becoming enticing, "If the general is willing to surrender to my Northern Di, my king will surely treat him as an honored guest, a national hero! I would even personally act as matchmaker, marrying you the most dazzling pearl of the grasslands, the most noble princess of my royal court, making you the most honored consort of my Northern Di, enjoying all the glory and wealth. Wouldn't that be far better than being a subject in that suspicious Southern Dynasty?"
"A wise bird chooses its tree to perch on, General!"
His voice, hoarse from the long battle, still carried an unyielding spirit and resounded: "The Left Wise King's strategy is brilliant! Step by step, he lured the enemy deep into his territory. Today, I, Chu, have learned my lesson!"
Geshulin chuckled softly, shaking his head, a hint of genuine regret in his smile. He leaned forward, his voice low yet sharp, each word like a knife, piercing everyone's ears:
“It’s not that my strategy is brilliant, it’s just that the price offered by the Northern Di is too high, so high that even your own blood relatives can’t bear to refuse it. General, why do you think the reinforcements haven’t arrived? It’s only thirty li, a fast horse can get there in half an hour. But they won’t come.”
"Bullshit!" Shi Yan suddenly sat up, blood gushing from the corner of his mouth. "Barbarian dog! The soldiers of the Southern Dynasty are of iron will, how dare you provoke us!"
Ge Shulin stopped looking at him and stared at Chu Huaili, as if admiring a piece of jade that was about to shatter.
Chu Huaili's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulged, and the iron halberd creaked as he gripped it. That phrase, "closest and most trusted," was more poisonous than an arrowhead, colder than wind and snow, freezing his heart in an instant. He slowly raised his eyes, all emotions in them suppressed into two deep, dark wells, utterly still and undisturbed.
“Geshulin,” he said, his voice hoarse yet eerily calm, “conditions.”
"General!" Someone behind him knelt down abruptly, snow and dust flying from his knees. "Absolutely not!"
Chu Huaili didn't turn around, but simply raised her hand and waved it gently. The gesture was like a knife, severing all the pleas behind her.
"I'll go with you," he said, emphasizing each word, "Let them go."
A slight smile played on Ge Shulin's lips, but a barely perceptible hint of respect flashed in his eyes. He reined in his horse and stepped aside, making way for him.
Although this design resulted in the loss of some men, capturing the renowned "Jade-Faced Asura" of the Southern Dynasty was undoubtedly a remarkable achievement!
"General, you have fought for four years. Are you really going to suffer such humiliation at the hands of the northern barbarians?"
The mournful sound behind him made him slowly close his eyes. When he opened them again, he had already put down the heavy halberd that had accompanied him in battle for many years.
The Northern Di soldiers stepped forward, bound his hands behind his back with heavy ox sinew ropes, and put him on a prison cart.
The Northern Di royal court is nestled in a sheltered valley, with countless white felt tents blooming like snow lotuses. The central golden-domed royal tent gleams in the setting sun.
"Welcome back in triumph!"
"Today, Hu Yu returns in triumph. The Chanyu grants special permission to cook beef and mutton to celebrate!"
"To protect for a thousand years."
"Long live the Chanyu!"
Bonfires lit up the ground, their glow illuminating excited faces.
Geshulin sat in the warm royal tent, cushioned by a soft white bear skin. In front of him, a low table was piled high with golden lamb, steaming hot pilaf, and large bowls of dairy products. He took a glass of strong liquor poured by a maid and drank it down in one gulp.
“Hu Yu, there is an envoy from the Southern Dynasty outside the tent requesting an audience.”
The sudden sound caused the piano music to stop abruptly.
Ge Shulin raised his eyes: "Who goes there?"
"It's a woman who claims to be an old acquaintance of the Protector." The subordinate presented an object, "and the woman said it was a token."
Geshulin accepted it; it was a dagger with a sapphire-encrusted handle and gold thread. A hint of coldness flashed in his narrow eyes: "I have no such acquaintance. That woman is yours."
A look of delight flashed in the subordinate's eyes. Although the woman outside the tent was travel-worn, her beauty was undeniable.
"Thank you for your protection!" he said excitedly as he withdrew.
Outside the tent, Ye Yixiang stood in the cold wind, dressed in only thin clothes. The night was deep, and the campfire made her face appear pale. She gripped the dagger in her sleeve tightly, her gaze sharp as she stared at the approaching Northern Di soldiers.
“My beauty, Hu Yu says he doesn’t know you.” The soldier grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. His Di language was rough and hoarse. He reached out to grab her. “Now, you are mine.”
Ye Yixiang quickly took a step back and shouted coldly, her Mandarin as sharp as a knife: "Insolence! I am an envoy of the Southern Dynasty, here by imperial decree! Anyone who dares to be disrespectful is an enemy of the Southern Dynasty!"
Before she finished speaking, the Di soldiers had already surrounded her. They couldn't understand the meaning of her words, but they were aroused by her anger and majesty, and their laughter became more and more lewd as their hands reached for her clothes.
Ye Yixiang's eyes darkened, and a cold light flashed from her sleeve as she stabbed at the outstretched hand.
Unexpectedly, the man reacted extremely quickly, snatching the knife from her and grabbing her slender, fair wrist, laughing, "Not bad, it's more satisfying to conquer a woman like this!"
Ye Yixiang's wrist felt like it was about to crack, but she didn't back down an inch, raising her knee to strike his groin. As if he had anticipated this move, he retaliated with a heavy slap across her face.
A sharp crack made her ears ring, as if she couldn't hear the sounds around her. A red, swollen handprint immediately appeared on her fair face.
She coldly raised her eyes, staring at the pack of wolves pouncing on her. Just as she was about to pull out the hairpin from her hair to fight back in a desperate struggle, she heard a voice:
"stop."
The voice that came from inside the tent was not loud, but it was like an ice blade brushing against the earlobe, making everyone shudder. The curtain was lifted, and Geshu Lin slowly stepped out.
The slightly trembling yet clear figure he had just seen suddenly overlapped with a silhouette from the depths of his memory.
He raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the crowd like a hawk, instantly fixing on that pale blue figure.
The silk skirt of the Central Plains was torn by the north wind, fluttering like moonlight shattered in the night; the soldiers' finger marks were still on her face, yet she still stood tall, like a hibiscus bent by the blizzard but not broken.
The campfire licked at her profile, illuminating her porcelain-like face with a moonlit glow, and also revealing the tears still clinging to her eyes, shining with an astonishing brightness.
Geshu Lin's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, a barely perceptible look of surprise flashing across her eyes, before she raised her hand. The guards restraining her immediately released their grip, took two steps back, and lowered their heads, not daring to look up.
The surrounding noise seemed to have been sucked away by the wind and snow, leaving only the crackling of flames.
Ge Shulin stood with his arms crossed, a thin, sharp curve forming at the corner of his lips: "Princess?" The two words rolled between his teeth, like chewing on ice shards. "The Ling Dynasty is gone, can the word 'noble' still be used as a blanket to keep warm?"
Ye Yixiang suppressed the blood at the corner of her lips, her voice steady without a tremor: "The Ling Dynasty is gone, and I am no longer a princess. I have come today only to ask the Left Wise King to release Chu Huaili."
"Let him go?" Geshu Lin chuckled, but his eyes held a scrutinizing glint. "Is it because you came to the rescue of a hostage being bullied by the princes at the Imperial Academy back then? Or is it because you shielded me from a reprimand by a teacher?"
Ye Yixiang took a half step forward. The snow was ankle-deep, but she tiptoed closer to his ear, her fragrance wafting over him like plum blossoms blooming in the snowy night. As Ge Shulin leaned down, he heard her whisper, "Does Hu Yu know that Chu Huaili is a prince whom the Southern Dynasty emperor, having been separated from his family, secretly sought out and highly valued?"
Geshulin's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, his iron arm still wrapped around his chest, but his knuckles tightened slightly.
She caught the fleeting moment of hesitation in the person in front of her, and her voice lowered even further:
"If the Left Wise King imprisons and humiliates him, the Southern Dynasty will use all the iron in the land to avenge this humiliation; but if you release him, this 'favor' will be worth half the country. No matter how brave the Right Tuqi King is, can he withstand the pressure of ten thousand cavalry from the Central Plains?"
She stepped back half an inch, her eyes clear and bright, reflecting the ambition and suspicion in his eyes.
Ge Shulin sneered: "Words are meaningless. What makes this disgraced princess believe me?"
“The evidence is on him.” Ye Yixiang raised her eyelashes, her gaze unwavering. “I can find it.”
Geshulin stared at her for a moment, then suddenly turned to the side. The felt curtain was lifted by his knuckles, and a foul, bloody smell rushed out, like invisible fangs.
"Please come with me, Princess."
The two walked through the bustling royal court, leaving the lights and laughter behind. The further they went into the secluded area, the sharper the wind became, and the stronger the pungent, sweet smell grew.
At the edge, a small, gray-black felt tent stood. The guard lifted the curtain, and a suffocating atmosphere surged out like a tide: blood, herbs, moldy soil, and rancid milk wine, layer upon layer forming the weight of death.
In the dim yellow light of the mutton tallow lamp, the figure huddled in the haystack almost blended into the shadows: iron shackles were embedded in the wrist bones, and bloodstains had stained the original black armor dark brown; new wounds and old cracks were intertwined, like a dried-up riverbed; disheveled hair covered half of the face, revealing only the dry, cracked lips, which were still tightly pursed.
In the wooden bowl beside him, there was a layer of grayish milk skin and gnawed sheep bones, as if mocking that he was still alive.
"roll……"
The voice was like a rusty blade scraping against iron, low and hoarse yet carrying its usual coldness and hardness, "No food... no treatment... get out..."
Ye Yixiang's throat suddenly felt dry.
Ignoring the stench, she knelt on the haystack, her fingertips trembling yet steady as she brushed aside his disheveled hair, her voice low: "General, it's me... Ye Yixiang. I'm sorry, I've offended you."
Chu Huaili shuddered, as if struck by a name that could never possibly appear. He struggled to lift his head, his heavily injured arm twitching unconsciously, the chains rattling.
What caught his eye was her fingertips reaching into his tattered collar as she bent down.
“You…” His pupils contracted sharply, a mixture of humiliation and shock overwhelmed him, but even the strength to raise his hand was drained by the chains.
Ye Yixiang's fingertips had already touched the slightly warm jade, and she gently pulled it away.
Under the lamplight, the warm, purple jade pendant gleamed. The character "Qing" was subtly engraved on the back of the jade, filled with cinnabar patterns, like a small cluster of flames that refused to be extinguished.
She gripped the jade pendant tightly, looked up to meet his gaze, and spoke in a voice so soft that only he could hear: "General, my apologies."
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