Chapter Thirty-Eight: Seizing the Grain

The next day, Dame Dayin once again led her troops into battle. The soldiers of the Central Palace hurled insults for several hours, but the Southern Palace kept its gates tightly shut, feigning deafness and ignorance. With no alternative, Dayin returned to camp with her forces.

Back in her tent, she summoned Qingyun for a detailed report. “What is the situation in the Southern Palace now?”

Qingyun replied with utmost respect, “The vanguard has suffered injuries, and two generals have fallen. Fear grips their hearts; they will not dare to fight.”

Dayin pondered deeply. “And what is your opinion, sir?”

“We are pressed for time. We should seek a decisive battle,” Qingyun answered calmly.

Dayin cast a sidelong glance at him. “Pressed for time? Now that the enemy refuses to come out, how exactly do we force a decisive battle?”

Qingyun smiled faintly. “As a former advisor to the Southern Palace, I am well acquainted with their terrain and granaries. Today, a shipment of provisions is due to arrive at the Southern Palace. We can take a shortcut to intercept their supplies. If we succeed, the Southern Palace will be forced to respond; if they persist in hiding, seizing their provisions would still be a victory.”

Dayin nodded in approval. “A sound plan. You shall have full authority over this operation. I will assign you several soldiers to command.”

Qingyun did not demur and accepted the task.

“Sir, there is another matter that has puzzled me greatly. I hope you can enlighten me,” Dayin said, raising her eyebrows and regarding Qingyun.

“Please speak, General.”

“The Commander Sikun—why was he so different in battle before and after? Is there some hidden story?”

Qingyun sighed. “You have asked the right person. I know a little of this matter. Commander Sikun's elderly father was meant to serve as chief marshal in this campaign, but on the eve of deployment, he was struck by a grave illness and could not rise from bed. Yesterday, just before the Central Palace commander engaged Sikun, word came that his father’s condition had worsened. This weighed heavily on his heart, unsettled his mind, and led to defeat. In truth, aside from Sikun at the vanguard, the Southern Palace has little talent worth mentioning.”

Dayin nodded. “That explains his inconsistency. Is the Southern Palace truly without capable generals now?”

“I would not dare deceive you, General. Otherwise, I would not have turned coat. The wise adapt to changing times,” Qingyun replied, bowing to her.

A knowing smile finally appeared on Dayin’s face. She waved her hand. “Go immediately and arrange the provisions raid. It will surely require much effort.”

“It is my duty,” Qingyun replied, and withdrew.

No sooner had Qingyun left than several commanders gathered behind Dayin. “General, are you truly entrusting this operation to someone of such unknown origin?”

Dayin smiled. “Is this not the perfect opportunity to test him? If he succeeds, well and good; if he fails, he cannot be kept.”

“Well said, General.”

Qingyun returned to his own tent, organizing supplies for the mission. As he was busy, someone lifted the tent flap and entered. Without looking up, he said, “I am not finished yet—please wait a moment.”

“Where are you off to?” The voice was not a soldier’s low growl.

Qingyun looked up and saw a woman before him, clad in armor, her face smeared with dirt. They regarded each other for a moment.

By day, Qingyun’s skin was fair, his starry eyes clear as spring water, his plain robes lending him an air of refinement. Kaiming stared at him. “I did not expect you to be so handsome.”

Qingyun smiled, recognizing her as the female soldier who had guided him the previous night.

“Do you have business with me, miss?”

“Can’t I simply come to see you?” she replied, bowing her head and continuing to tidy up.

Kaiming moved closer and whispered, “You're a fake defector, aren’t you!”

Qingyun murmured, “There’s a basin of water over there.”

“What for?” she asked, curious at the seemingly random mention.

“Wash your face,” Qingyun said, looking up with a half-smile. “It’s filthy.”

Kaiming was mortified. She’d been cooking with Dogzi and the others earlier, and hadn’t realized her face was covered in soot. To lose face in front of such a handsome man—how humiliating.

Without another word, she rushed to the basin and washed her face. Suddenly remembering, she asked, “Wait—did you use this water?”

Qingyun replied calmly, “Indeed, I used it this morning, and haven’t yet poured it out…”

“You wretch!” she exclaimed, furious, wiping her face with her sleeve and moving to confront him.

Qingyun remained unperturbed, smiling at her. “Much better.”

Her brows furrowed, her eyes nearly blazing.

Qingyun’s next words extinguished her anger: “Now you look more like a delicate beauty.”

She stared at him in shock, unable to speak. He was handsome and witty—if he lived in modern times, he would be a heartthrob.

Qingyun smiled. “I’m busy now. Please amuse yourself here, will you?” With that, he strode out, ignoring her.

Kaiming stood rooted for a moment, feeling as if she’d been pacified like a child. This man—how infuriating!

Disgruntled, she left the tent and saw Team Fourteen gathered together, watching General Dayin’s tent intently. She slapped Dogzi on the shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

Dogzi jumped, and upon seeing her, hurriedly replied, “The commander is requesting a mission from the general!”

“What mission?” she asked, puzzled.

“Raiding provisions.” Seeing her confusion, Dogzi explained, “The general assigned two commanders to raid the Southern Palace’s supplies, but Commander Chang Geng refused, insisting on going himself.”

She rolled her eyes. What kind of person ignores his injury, making others risk themselves for his own glory?

Her gaze drifted lazily and landed on Qingyun, who stood holding two bamboo tubes, waiting by his horse for orders. He seemed to sense her gaze and met her eyes, smiling again.

Kaiming glared at him in annoyance, turning away to watch the tent, where a low argument was brewing.

Suddenly the tent flap flew open, as if flung with force, and a figure stormed out—Chang Geng, fury written across his face, white cloth still wrapped around his chest.

Two commanders rushed after him, calling, “Chang Geng! Chang Geng!”

“Leave him be!” Dayin’s steady voice issued from within. “Let him throw his tantrum—it will pass.”

The commanders returned sheepishly.

“Assign some soldiers to follow him, lest he act recklessly and jeopardize our plans.”

“Yes, General.”

“Commander Yu, Commander An, it’s settled—go now!”

“Yes, General.”

“Remember, obey Qingyun’s commands in all things.”

“Yes, General!”

The raiding party departed. Chang Geng returned to his tent, gathering his men. “Assemble! We leave immediately!”

“Commander,” Kaiming protested, “Didn’t the general instruct us not to act rashly?”

“Silence!” Chang Geng glared. “How can we let others claim this merit?”

Kaiming dared not argue further. Chang Geng rallied his troops, mounted his horse, and the soldiers ran behind, opening the rear gate of the camp and heading out on their own.

The soldiers assigned to watch quickly reported to Dayin, who anxiously ordered her deputy to chase after Chang Geng and bring him back.

Soon, they spotted Qingyun and the two commanders ahead, proceeding at a measured pace, cavalry in the center, infantry at the rear. Chang Geng rejoiced upon noticing a shortcut, spurred his horse onto the path, and overtook them.

From the hillside, he looked out and saw a slow-moving convoy—the Southern Palace’s provisions team, unmistakable with their banner on the supply wagons.

Chang Geng saw their numbers were few, with only one general overseeing the convoy and the rest scattered. He was elated, certain the glory would be his.

He ordered his soldiers to brandish their weapons and charged down the hill.

The Southern Palace general was shocked, but upon seeing only twenty or thirty attackers, wielded his staff and moved to block them. Chang Geng engaged him immediately.

The Southern Palace soldiers were not cowed, and a fierce battle ensued with Team Fourteen.

“Push the wagons away!” the Southern Palace general shouted as he fought, and several soldiers hurriedly tried to escape with the supply carts.

Chang Geng, anxious and unable to intervene directly, shouted to his men, “Intercept them!”

Team Fourteen soldiers rushed to pursue, engaging in another struggle with no clear victor.

Several wagons were pushed away, and Chang Geng grew desperate. In a distracted moment, the enemy seized an opening—struck his old wound with a staff, sending pain coursing through him. Chang Geng cried out and tumbled from his horse.

To make matters worse, from amidst the wild grass, a cavalry unit suddenly appeared—led by the young general Sikun of the Southern Palace.

Chang Geng lamented, “This is the end for me!”

Team Fourteen fell into disarray, clustering around Chang Geng, afraid to move.

Sikun ordered his men to surround Chang Geng, his face cold. “Is this the quality of Central Palace’s soldiers?”

Chang Geng clenched his teeth in silence. Sikun’s gaze sharpened. “Wasn’t it the traitorous advisor who planned the raid? Where is he?”

“Commander Sikun, thank you for waiting,” came a loud laugh. Suddenly, an object whistled through the air, landing and emitting thick white smoke.

Sikun’s expression changed dramatically. Covering his nose with his robe, he shouted, “Run! That’s his homemade cannon!”

A cannon!? Kaiming was terrified. So close—if it exploded, they’d be blown to bits!

Team Fourteen scattered like frightened birds, the Southern Palace soldiers fled in panic, chaos ensued. Kaiming saw Chang Geng still frozen, and, gritting her teeth, dragged him away, hugging him as she rolled into the wild grass as the fuse hissed.

The smoke eventually cleared—the tube lay silent. Dogzi, closest to it, was petrified, his trousers wet with fear. The fuse hissed twice more, eliciting cold sweats from all. But it extinguished.

Qingyun stepped forward, squatting to inspect the device, then lifted it. “A dud.”

The others were baffled.

Qingyun smiled gently. “A cannon that doesn’t explode—it must have malfunctioned.”

Commander An, still fearful, asked, “So… it won’t explode?”

“It’s spent,” Qingyun said, tossing it aside.

Everyone was left uneasy, wondering if Qingyun had meant to trick them.

Qingyun looked around and laughed. “I never expected that even a dud cannon would scare off the Southern Palace soldiers.”

Only then did everyone realize the Southern Palace had vanished—the battle won without bloodshed.

Commander An was overwhelmed. “Sir, sir!” He was at a loss for words.

Qingyun merely smiled.

Suddenly someone called out, “Where’s Commander Chang Geng?” Only then did they notice his absence.

As they searched, a weak voice called from the grass, “I’m here…”

Pushing aside the tall grass, they were stunned—Chang Geng lay bloodied, helmet askew, struggling to sit up. He was pinned beneath a soldier, eyes closed, brow furrowed, uncertain if alive or dead.

Chang Geng roared, “If you don’t get up, I’ll be crushed to death even if I’m not in pain!”

Kaiming hurriedly opened her eyes and looked around. “It didn’t explode? The cannon didn’t go off?” She met the startled gazes of the searching party, then saw Chang Geng’s furious face beneath her, mortified.

She scrambled off him, trying to help him up, but he pushed her away. Guards moved in to assist him gently.

The soldiers dispersed, their looks filled with inscrutable curiosity. Dogzi sidled over and whispered, “What happened?”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” she muttered. Qingyun passed by, his eyes full of laughter.