Chapter Twenty-Six: Utterly Shameless

On the second day after Yang Qi withdrew to Wangcheng, Yan Kuan arrived with his army of two hundred thousand. Seeing Yan Kuan, Yang Qi finally felt at ease. He had at last witnessed the formidable royal troops of Dongling—utterly unstoppable. His own experience in battle was still too lacking. Perhaps the piece his father had hidden on the board could bring a turning point for Xiyuan. For now, he could only hope for Yan Kuan’s help.

“General Yan greets the Second Prince.” At the city gate, Yan Kuan quickly dismounted to salute when he saw Yang Qi coming out in person to welcome him.

“No need for such formalities, General Yan.” Yang Qi raised his hand in a gesture of support.

“His Majesty has sent me to assist Your Highness. Please give your orders, and I will carry them out, even unto death,” Yan Kuan said respectfully.

“General Yan, you are a rare talent of Xiyuan. In this battle, we must plan carefully together and ensure the defeat of Dongling. I wonder if you have any clever strategies? Please, let us hear them and discuss,” Yang Qi said, his tone grave.

“Dongling’s strength lies in Prince Chun, Zhongli Yu, whose command is almost divine. To defeat Dongling, we must first eliminate Zhongli Yu,” Yan Kuan replied slowly.

“Zhongli Yu is an unmatched martial artist—defeating him is no easy feat,” Yang Qi said helplessly.

“I do have a plan, but I wonder if Your Highness is willing to take such a risk?” Yan Kuan asked cautiously.

“Oh? What plan is that? Let us discuss it inside.” Yang Qi’s eyes lit up; he himself had run out of ideas, and any counsel was most welcome.

“Very well, after you, Your Highness.”

That day, Yang Qi and Yan Kuan spent a full hour in the council hall of the military governor’s residence in Wangcheng, discussing their plans in private with no one allowed to interrupt. When they emerged, both wore expressions of satisfaction, as if victory was already within their grasp.

At the same time, Zhongli Yu was convening his commanders in Ningcheng, preparing to recapture Wangcheng in a single strike. His troops brimmed with confidence, and Zhongli Yu had made thorough arrangements for the coming battle. Now that the enemy had received reinforcements, they must have been well prepared, and a surprise attack was no longer necessary. Thus, they agreed to set out at midnight, aiming to reach Wangcheng by dawn and face the enemy head-on.

By early morning the next day, Zhongli Yu’s forces had arrived at Wangcheng. The city, easy to defend and hard to attack, would never have fallen so quickly to Xiyuan if not for the treachery of the Duke of Zhennan. Now, to reclaim it would require a fierce battle. Fortunately, Zhongli Yu was already familiar with all the city’s defenses, and taking it back was not impossible. Yang Qi and his men waited atop the gates from early morning, showing no sign of panic as Zhongli Yu arrived with his troops.

“Zhongli Yu, you’re finally here. I have been waiting a long time,” Yang Qi called out arrogantly.

Zhongli Yu narrowed his eyes, looking up at Yang Qi on the city wall, his expression calm and unmoved, as if Yang Qi was beneath his notice. His gaze shifted to Yan Kuan, disguised as Zhan Tianyi, his eyes cold and piercing, sending a chill through all who met them. Yan Kuan almost dared not meet Zhongli Yu’s gaze; the oppressive pressure nearly caused him to falter.

“Zhan Tianyi, I truly do not understand. Dongling has never treated you poorly; why would you commit such a heinous act? Can you give me a reasonable explanation?” Zhongli Yu’s voice was calm. Only he knew the pain in his heart—for this man was Yan’er’s father. The thought that he would soon have to end his life with his own hands filled him with inner conflict. For the first time in his life, he felt so torn between private feelings and national duty. Surely, Yan’er would not blame him? She had always been so gentle and kind; she could never forgive anyone who so flagrantly betrayed morality.

Meeting Zhongli Yu’s questioning yet composed tone, Yan Kuan found himself at a loss for words. For the first time in his life, he felt a pang of guilt. He almost wanted to confess that he was not Zhan Tianyi, but Yan Kuan, general of Xiyuan. Yet he could not bear it; he wanted Zhan Tianyi to be branded a traitor for all eternity.

“I know exactly how Dongling has treated me. I have my reasons for what I’ve done; there’s no need for you to ask, Prince Chun,” Yan Kuan replied, his guilt poorly hidden.

Zhongli Yu, seeing his unease, closed his eyes in sorrow. He raised his sword, preparing to order the assault.

“Wait, Prince Chun. Are you certain you wish to attack Wangcheng today?” Yang Qi called out to stop him.

Zhongli Yu looked at him questioningly. Wasn’t that the purpose of his coming—why ask such a thing?

“Before you attack, I have a grand gift prepared for you. I think you will find it most interesting,” Yang Qi said smugly.

“Don’t listen to him, Prince. This is surely one of his tricks,” interjected Liu An, who had come with Zhongli Yu from Yincheng.

“If you do not look, you are sure to regret it,” Yang Qi replied, a smile on his face, though the smile was cold and sinister. After all these battles, Zhongli Yu’s strategies had cost him countless soldiers. His hatred for Zhongli Yu ran deep.

“What is it you wish to show me?” Zhongli Yu’s brow twitched, sensing something ominous.

“Prince…” Others tried to interject, but Zhongli Yu waved them off. The enemy was clearly prepared; there was no avoiding it.

“Prince Chun, you are indeed perceptive,” Yang Qi nodded. “Bring them up!”

Soon, a large group of people was led up onto the city wall by Xiyuan soldiers—among them General Liang Ruhai and several deputy commanders who had previously defended Wangcheng. More shocking still, each Xiyuan soldier held a citizen of Dongling at knifepoint.

“Your Highness, save us!” The hostages, seeing Zhongli Yu’s vast army, cried out for help, as if grasping at hope. These were all commoners who had lived in Wangcheng.

“Yang Qi, you are despicable!” For the first time, anger flashed across Zhongli Yu’s usually impassive face. The rules of war dictated that innocents should not be harmed, yet Yang Qi was using Dongling’s own people as hostages.

“Haha! As long as I can defeat Dongling, I do not care if you call me despicable,” Yang Qi laughed, delighted at finally seeing Zhongli Yu lose his composure.

“What is it that you want?” Zhongli Yu demanded in a low voice.

“It’s very simple. Trade your life, Zhongli Yu, for theirs. Will you do it or not?” Yang Qi said triumphantly. If he could rid himself of this powerful enemy, Dongling’s troops would be leaderless and lost in mourning. Xiyuan would then find seizing Dongling an easy task.

“Prince Chun, no! For the sake of the nation, let us die. We are willing to go to our deaths,” General Liang Ruhai spoke out before Zhongli Yu could answer.

“Silence, old man! Your life is nothing, but what if it were ten thousand citizens? Look behind you,” Yang Qi shouted.

Liang Ruhai turned and looked within the city. His face went white. The crowds were all the people of Wangcheng—at least ten thousand, each held at knifepoint by Xiyuan soldiers. The Duke of Zhennan had claimed to arrange their evacuation, but instead, they had been imprisoned. Liang Ruhai was so enraged he nearly fainted. “Zhan Tianyi, you beast! If you wish to betray your country, why must you make the common people suffer?”

“Because they are useful. I want to see whether Prince Chun will exchange his noble life for the lives of these lowly commoners,” Zhan Tianyi answered coldly. Sixteen years ago, the true Duke of Zhennan had defeated Xiyuan, forced them to sign a treaty, and stolen the woman he loved. Now, he would not only make him bear the name of traitor, but ensure his utter ruin.

“Zhan Tianyi, you are inhuman!” Liang Ruhai’s veins bulged with rage.

“Yes, Zhan Tianyi is inhuman,” Yan Kuan said indifferently. The more they cursed him, the more satisfied he felt.