The sky was edged with the pale light of dawn.
The snow had finally stopped, but the cold had only grown harsher.
Ye Shang walked along the city wall, the snow crunching beneath his feet with a creaking sound.
Suddenly, he halted.
A young soldier crouched behind a crenellation, his body and head frozen under a layer of ice and snow, life already stilled.
He had been posted here for the night watch, having not retreated a single step even as he froze to death, remaining steadfast at his post.
Even covered in frost, his youthful face appeared calm and serene, with even a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
Perhaps, in his final moments, he had found release, glimpsed someone he longed to see, and arrived in a world of peace.
Ye Shang couldn’t quite articulate his feelings. Whether human nature was inherently evil or good, he knew that many among those recruited by Luo Lan were ordinary folk.
Take this boy, for instance—his entire family had been slaughtered by the barbarians. He entered the city to survive and to avenge them. He resorted to cannibalism. Was he wrong?
In a world that devoured people alive, what could a half-grown child do?
All he could do, perhaps, was follow Luo Lan—the one he believed was the strongest—just to live, and then to exact revenge.
By now, the soldiers who still lived were almost all like this boy, wholeheartedly devoted to Luo Lan.
Not everyone was as fortunate as Ye Shang to have encountered Lord, found redemption, and glimpsed hope.
Ye Shang’s gaze grew resolute. That was why he had to work even harder, assisting Lord in reclaiming the Han people’s homeland as swiftly as possible.
He only wished that everyone in this world could meet Lord, so that tragedies like this would never be repeated.
He lifted his foot and continued forward, stepping around corpse after corpse.
In the tense days of battle, neither on the city wall nor below it had there been time or manpower to deal with the bodies.
And when necessary, these corpses could still be used as weapons, hurled down below.
Wen Ping sighed and quickened his pace to keep up.
Any soldier still alive on the city wall rose to his feet, one after another.
Ye Shang barked orders: “Check your weapons and gear! Qu Shilang’s army could launch an attack at any moment!”
In this weather, aside from other concerns, the bows were frozen stiff. Some, made of poorer materials, might snap the moment they were drawn.
The winter sunlight cast its light on the city wall, yet the air remained bitingly cold.
Qu Shilang rode his horse at the front of the formation, gazing from a distance at the dilapidated city, now blanketed in white, and the heaps of corpses piled below the walls.
These corpses included both Qu Shilang’s men and Han people.
With the icy wind howling, the banners flapped noisily.
A smile curled at the corner of Qu Shilang’s mouth. After today, this city would belong to Qu Shilang.
On the city wall, Ye Shang looked at the common folk gathered on the parapet walkway and frowned: “What are you all doing here?”
Leading them was a haggard, gaunt old man named Wang Tong.
His lips were black from cold, his body trembling uncontrollably: “Secretary Ye, is the city about to fall?”
Ye Shang didn’t intend to hide it: “Yes.”
Wang Tong pointed a trembling finger at the people behind him: “These are all able-bodied men. Since the city is going to fall anyway, and death awaits us either way, we... we want to fight.”
Ye Shang didn’t want to say much, only asking: “Do you trust me?”
Wang Tong nodded: “Of course we do. If not for Secretary Ye’s care and support, we might not have lived this long.”
Long-term hunger left him gasping after just a few words. He paused to catch his breath before continuing.
“We might not have much strength, but we can help you push the bodies down. Kill one, count one. Anyway—once they enter the city, we... we won’t survive either.”
General Luo was right—they were timid and cowardly, not even daring to eat their own kind. But they truly couldn’t bring themselves to do it.
They stepped forward now only because they knew they were all going to die.
At this very moment, fear had vanished. Fear was useless now—better to fight tooth and nail while they still could.
If one man couldn’t trade for one enemy, then three, five, or ten could. With so many of them, they could take down plenty of Qu Shilang’s soldiers.
Ye Shang’s gaze grew complicated. Luo Lan had called these people cowardly and weak, but as far as Ye Shang was concerned, these were true warriors—warriors who held fast to their inner morality and bottom line.
He spoke slowly: “If you trust me, then go back. Because you’ll hinder our performance.”
These people wore thin clothing, some barely covering their bodies. Starved and frail, even the cold alone would kill many if they took to the city wall, let alone face Qu Shilang’s sharp arrows.
Wang Tong was about to speak when the sound of drums reached them. Startled, he turned to look at Ye Shang.
Ye Shang waved them away: “Go back. Otherwise, I’ll have to spare attention to look after you.”
Wang Tong opened his mouth, finally sighed, and led the townsfolk back into the city, their steps faltering.
Ye Shang watched their retreating figures, let out his own sigh, then turned and hurried toward the south gate.
Qu Shilang’s soldiers pushed siege rams, scaling ladders, and other siege weapons toward the city.
The snow and ice were crushed to slush beneath their feet, slowing their advance considerably.
But today, Lin County was unusually quiet. Few men were visible on the city wall, and their formation advanced without hindrance.
The shield bearers took the lead, but no arrows rained down. Suspicion grew in their hearts instead.
Qu Shilang frowned as he observed the silent city wall, which felt like a dead city.
Yu Cheng was equally baffled: “Could the Han all have frozen to death last night?”
Qu Shilang shook his head: “Impossible. Have the archers prepare.”
Whether it was a dead city or not, whether everyone had perished or not, unleashing a volley of arrows was always sound strategy. He had to take Lin County today, no matter what.
Arrows flew like rain, whistling as they struck the city wall.
Luo Lan watched the arrows clatter to the ground on the wall, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Perhaps because the wall remained utterly silent, Qu Shilang’s army stopped shooting after a few volleys and quickened their advance instead.
The moat bridges were coated in frozen ice. Qu Shilang’s soldiers took hammers and began smashing the icicles with a bang. With that many ice pillars in the way, their siege rams couldn’t cross—they had to break them first.
Crack.
A soldier from Qu Shilang stepped onto the ice-covered moat, but the ice wasn’t thick enough. He plunged straight through.
Fortunately, the icy water of the moat was shallow, reaching only to his calves. He even stepped onto a corpse submerged beneath bloody water.
Ignoring the cold, the soldier pressed on, the ice cracking with each step.
Thousands of soldiers crossed the moat, yet the tower atop the city wall remained utterly still.
Qu Shilang’s expression grew serious. He gave the order: “Scale the walls!”
The charge horn sounded once more.
Qu Shilang’s soldiers thrust their scaling ladders against the city wall with fierce cries, while others climbed the assault ladders left behind from previous assaults...
Thud, thud...
The battering ram slammed into the city gate, its dull impact echoing again and again.
The battered gate had withstood long-term assaults, already slightly warped, but still holding firm. Only frozen clumps of snow and gravel rained down.
Just as Qu Shilang’s soldiers were about to reach the top of the wall, their hands gripping the crenellations, a blade swept down to cut them off.
