Hua Yuanyi: “…”
Was this what people called “a daughter’s heart turning outward”?
Jiang Jin wasn’t a man, or he would have suspected that his daughter was throwing herself into danger for the sake of some man.
At the thought of men, the vein in his forehead began to throb. “Your several close friends have arrived in Fengzhou, haven’t they? Have you seen them?”
As the person who knew the truth behind the uproarious incident of “eloping noisily with their lovers,” he knew exactly who the “lovers” mentioned in their letters were.
Hua Ruo said helplessly, “I haven’t seen them yet.”
By the time Mo Susu and the other two arrived in Gefeng, their lord had already begun laying out plans to attack Donghu, so she had not asked for leave.
Besides, knowing those three as she did, it would make little difference whether she was there or not. They were perfectly capable of managing their own lives.
The next day’s assault on the city was surprisingly harmonious. The Jinyang Army did nothing unusual, while Qu Zhao was relatively restrained as well. Everything proceeded more or less according to the usual routine.
First came the refined yet vulgar exchange of insults, followed by bloody yet “gentle” duels between generals.
Xie Nanxiao, Hua Ruo, and even Hua Yuanyi took the field, each winning a bout.
After suffering three defeats to three victories, Qu Zhao finally lost his temper.
What was the point of dueling generals?!
No more duels! If you have the ability, come and attack me!
And then the Jinyang Army’s enormous siege bolts actually flew over!
Seeing the massive arrows embedded in the city wall, with only their shafts protruding, Hua Yuanyi’s pupils contracted sharply. At last, he understood why the Jinyang Army had brought only trench bridges for the siege, without battering rams or siege ladders.
With such a divine weapon, who needed siege ladders?
After suffering countless losses to the Jinyang Army’s repeating crossbows, Qu Zhao, their old opponent, had finally thought of a countermeasure: setting the arrows on fire.
They brought out jar after jar of hot oil, preparing to pour it over the rows of arrow shafts beneath the walls.
But how could Yao Ji possibly give them the chance? With a wave of his hand, the repeating crossbows behind him fired in unison.
Arrows rained down, instantly slaughtering the Qu Zhao soldiers standing atop the wall.
Worse still, the hot oil was knocked over, splashing across the bodies of the Qu Zhao soldiers. Even in death, they found no peace.
Hua Yuanyi’s pupils contracted once again.
They could shoot from such a distance!
And fire in rapid succession!
As expected of a divine weapon!
The drums of the assault began to thunder. The Sizhou troops serving as the vanguard, along with a unit of the Jinyang Army, charged forward first.
The heavy casualties Hua Yuanyi had imagined never appeared.
For the Jinyang Army, however, this siege already counted as a relatively costly one.
Because of the terrain, Dongcheng County’s walls stood at different elevations, forming a series of steps. This naturally made it easier for the defenders to take cover and seize opportunities to counterattack.
The moat around Dongcheng County was also comparatively wide, requiring the use of large trench bridges. Setting them up took more time, and all of these factors increased the casualties.
The siege continued from sunrise until sunset. At last, the city fell.
As he entered Dongcheng County amid the thick stench of blood, Mo Song remained in a daze.
Dongcheng County was a fortress notoriously easy to defend and difficult to attack. Qu Zhao had spent several months attacking it the previous year, and even after the beginning of spring, it had taken them more than a month to wrest it from the aristocratic clans.
Yet in the hands of the Jinyang Army, it had fallen in a single day.
What he saw inside the city left him even more speechless.
There were almost no Han Chinese civilians left. When the aristocratic clans withdrew, they had taken away every civilian they could.
But throughout the city stood countless charred, dilapidated houses. Skeletons were scattered along the streets, along with half-decayed corpses that had not completely rotted away.
Dismembered limbs and pools of blood filled his view. Everything bore witness to what this city had once endured.
So desolate and ruined, it looked even more battered beneath the setting sun.
One could imagine how, once upon a time, this city and its people had struggled in the abyss—tragically and heroically.
This was Han Chinese land, a Han Chinese city, home to Han Chinese people, yet the barbarians had trampled it again and again and again!
A cool sensation touched Mo Song’s face. He raised a hand to wipe it away, only to discover that he had begun crying at some point.
Back in Sizhou, whenever they were defeated, they withdrew.
He had imagined that the cities occupied by the barbarians and the people living in them must have suffered terribly. But this was the first time he had truly confronted the reality.
At that moment, he suddenly felt that Princess Jinyang was truly extraordinary.
At that moment, he hoped that this city—and every other city—could soon return to their rightful hands and never again fall under barbarian occupation.
Beneath the dim lamplight, a casualty report was brought before Yao Ji.
The Jinyang Army had suffered relatively few casualties. However, the Sizhou troops had served as the vanguard and had never before coordinated with the Jinyang Army’s repeating crossbows. As a result, more than sixteen hundred had been killed, while around two thousand had sustained light or serious injuries.
In other words, even counting those with minor injuries, fewer than two thousand of the Sizhou soldiers remained fit for battle.
Hua Yuanyi was surprised by the result. To capture such a difficult city with only a little over a thousand dead was something he had never even dared imagine before.
At that moment, a surge of pride rose faintly in his heart, along with a trace of anticipation.
Perhaps there really would come a day when the mountains and rivers of the Yan Kingdom could be reclaimed?!
Yao Ji looked up at Hua Yuanyi. “On behalf of my lord and the Jinyang Army, I offer the Sizhou Army our heartfelt thanks.”
“If you are willing, the soldiers who died may be buried in our Martyrs’ Cemetery. Of course, you may also take their remains home.”
“We are willing to cover the pensions for their families. Just compile the list and submit it to us. However, I hope the money will truly reach the soldiers’ families.”
“And we will cover all expenses for the wounded as well.”
Hua Yuanyi stared at Yao Ji in astonishment. He did not understand why Commander Yao, who had been so “particular” before, had suddenly become so generous.
Pensions for the families of the dead—a heavy term indeed.
Sizhou did provide death benefits for soldiers killed in battle, but after being skimmed off layer by layer, less than one-tenth ever reached the families of the deceased.
Yao Ji understood the look in his eyes and sighed. “My lord once said that we must unite every force that can be united.”
“As long as they fight the barbarians alongside us, they are our allies. Whether they are Sizhou soldiers or Jinyang soldiers, they are all heroes of the Han people.”
“Gefeng has a Martyrs’ Cemetery. It contains the heroes who died in battle, and their gravestones record their names, the campaigns they took part in, and more.”
Hua Yuanyi felt his nose sting, as though he were about to cry.
These soldiers had not been under his direct command, but they were still young, living souls—someone’s sons, and perhaps fathers to someone’s children.
They had died in battle, yet they would be treated with solemn respect, remembered, and honored. What greater comfort could there be?
Hua Yuanyi was a veteran general, but at that moment, he truly felt the weight of the word “martyr” for the first time.
In Sizhou, and in the Yan Kingdom of old, the lives of soldiers had never been worth much. In the eyes of those in power, dead soldiers were merely numbers.
Here, for the first time, he had heard of a Martyrs’ Cemetery. For the first time, he had learned that even the most ordinary soldier would no longer be tossed into a pit and buried at random.
They had names. They had gravestones. Future generations would remember their deeds.
He thought that perhaps these soldiers would rather be buried in the cemetery.
Hua Yuanyi bowed solemnly. “If possible, please let them enter the cemetery.”
Yao Ji nodded. “Certainly. If their families wish to come to Fengzhou, they may do so as well. The families of martyrs receive many preferential benefits here, such as assistance finding employment and lower interest rates when purchasing homes.”
Hua Yuanyi and Mo Song were stunned once again. Had they truly gone so far?
No wonder—no wonder the Jinyang Army was so fierce and fearless in the face of death.
A warrior will die for the one who understands him; a soldier will live—or die—at his commander’s word. Even when no hope of survival remained, they were still willing to march to their deaths without fear.
This was the strongest army of all.
