Chapter 297: A'Jin

The guards outside the command tent hesitated. Their faces shifted in color, but their feet stayed planted.

Then, Zhao Pan’s voice came from within, “Let him in.”

He Lingchuan pushed past the tent flap in big strides and saw that only his father, He Chunhua, and Zhao Pan were inside.

So it was just the two of them arguing?

“Father, what happened?”

He Chunhua plucked a twig out of his son’s tangled hair. “General Zhao and I were just exchanging a few thoughts.” He glanced him up and down. The boy was caked with mud and sand from head to toe.

“Winning and losing are normal in war, but the consequences shouldn’t fall on family,” Zhao Pan said bluntly, refusing to soften his words just because this was a father and son. “Governor-General He, this time you’ve gone a bit too far.”

Consequences shouldn’t fall on family?

He Lingchuan blinked.

What did my father do?

“They loot Xia Province’s civilians and slaughter my Xia Province’s soldiers, and you expect me to treat these invaders with moral courtesy?” He Chunhua’s smile was cold. “General Zhao, you’re being pedantic.”

“Morality is not useless,” Zhao Pan said, voice deep. “You kidnapped Hong Chenglue’s wife. Now he has every reason to use any means necessary against you.”

“And when he raids my grain and disrupts all your frontline deployments, that isn’t him using any means necessary?” He Chunhua shook his head. “War is the art of deception. As long as it leads to victory, what are those Xun Province people incapable of? Look at how Hong Chenglue tossed over a hundred of his wounded subordinates at me as bait. He used my hand to rid himself of burdens. You think a man like that is capable of honorable restraint?”

From their last clash, he had read Hong Chenglue’s nature as clearly as if it were etched on glass.

He snorted again. “That non-aggression banner you’ve planted in front of your camp, I’d say it’s just for show. When Xun Province wants to attack, they will, and no agreement of yours will stop them.”

“Hong Chenglue is merely fulfilling the duty expected of him,” Zhao Pan replied. He kept his tone as tactful as he could. What he truly wanted to say was: “He embarrassed you. He trampled your face into the mud.”

This Governor-General He’s sharp and capable, but he values his face and merit too much. Still, Hong Chenglue did burn half his grain. It’s not really all that out of the ordinary for him to be thinking of revenge day and night.

Moreover, if his prestige suffers here, then once he returns to Dunyu City, he’ll struggle both to govern the people and to restrain the four great families.

“It’s not as if I’m demanding that Hong Chenglue present his neck to be chopped,” He Chunhua said with an amused snort. “Besides, now that I’ve caught his woman, how could I possibly let such an advantage go?”

He Lingchuan pieced it together. “Father, you found Hong Chenglue’s wife?”

A few days ago, his father had asked him for a hair comb. He had not thought much of it at the time, and it was only now that he realized what it had been used for.

Before heading to war, Hong Chenglue had surely hidden his wife away with extreme care. It said something about He Chunhua’s methods that he could track A’Jin down with nothing but a comb.

He Chunhua nodded. “And?”

A flicker of irritation went through him.

Is my eldest going to object as well?

“Nothing,” said He Lingchuan.

When you served in the army, obeying orders from above was the first duty. No matter what he thought inside, he could not publicly oppose He Chunhua on the surface, especially not in front of an outsider like Zhao Pan.

He Chunhua snorted. “It’s a good thing I brought you on this trip.” His second son’s heart was much softer.

He rose to his feet and said to Zhao Pan, “I’ve already made up my mind. This is how we’ll proceed.” After saying that, he strode out with his chin lifted.

He Lingchuan had no choice but to follow. As they walked, he lowered his voice to ask, “Father, how’d you find her?”

“Just some crude tracking tricks,” He Chunhua said offhandedly. “But now that we’ve got her, the game has changed. We’re no longer on the passive side.”

Until now, they had always been exposed in the light, while the enemy lurked in the dark. He was all but certain that Hong Chenglue’s scouts were still prowling near the front, watching every move of this supply unit.

Zhao Pan’s foe was the Xun Province army. Hong Chenglue’s gaze, however, was fixed on He Chunhua.

That, He Chunhua could not abide.

He Lingchuan hesitated, words rising and falling back several times. In the end, he said nothing.

The woman was already captured. The arrow was nocked; his father would see this through no matter what anyone said.

Outside, personal guards raised umbrellas and escorted the two of them back to their respective tents.

The river water nearby had turned a murky yellow. Back in his quarters, He Lingchuan took out a barrel of clean water from his storage ring. He rinsed off the sand and mud from head to toe and changed into dry clothes. In this army, he was probably the only one extravagant enough to use drinking water for washing.

Ever since his ordeal in the Panlong Desert, he had developed a habit of hoarding water and food. Anyway, his storage ring was big enough to indulge this behavior.

Outside, the wind howled and the rain hammered the camp. With nothing else pressing to do, he simply sat cross-legged on a chair, slowed his breathing, and sank into meditation.

He was not sure if it was because of the insight he had gained practicing the Wave-Cleaving Saber in the river, but as his true energy circulated through several cycles, he sensed that its flow was smoother than before. Even if it was just a little smoother, it was undeniable that progress had been made.

This was simply how cultivation was. Your working depth of power could be deepened by steady practice and time, but genuine advances in cultivation and comprehension require opportunity and insight. Those were hazy things and were difficult to put into words.

That was why experts like the Red General and Xiao Maoliang emphasized actual combat. They urged their soldiers to seek and comprehend the Dao at the razor-thin edge between life and death.

* * *

This time, his meditation lasted four full hours.

When He Lingchuan opened his eyes, the wind and rain outside had grown even more violent. The sound almost drowned out the calls and shouts of the soldiers. It even sounded like a few tents had been ripped away.

He pulled out a rain cloak, threw it over his shoulders, and stepped out.

Just outside the entrance, raindrops big as beans slapped against his face like thrown stones.

The Han River was already raging. No matter what comprehension he had gained in the Wave-Cleaving Saber, if he jumped in now, he would not be cleaving anything. Instead, he would probably just be taken away by the waves, and that would be the end of him.

In the storm, every soldier was busy.

A guard hurried up to inform him that the water spirit had proclaimed the Han River’s flood season would arrive early. The current location was no longer safe, and the entire camp had to be moved back to higher ground.

Relocating a full army was no easy matter, especially in such brutal weather.

All the more so when you had a whole herd of bulls.

The storm startled the bulls badly, and they had to be calmed and coaxed into moving with the army.

The only good thing was that, in conditions like these, the enemy would not be able to put boats on the river either. No one would dare attempt a crossing.

As he turned his head, a civilian carriage caught his eye.

The carriage was extremely simple. In fact, it might not even be worthy of being called a carriage, as it did not have a proper enclosed room. It was little more than a flatbed with cloth curtains hanging down on all sides. In this wind and rain, the curtains were soaked through. Through the wet fabric, he could see a pile of straw and, atop it, a human shape lying under a quilt.

The coachman walked ahead of the horses, trying to lead them uphill, but the wheels had jammed perfectly in a crack between stones. No matter how the horses strained, the carriage would not budge.

He Lingchuan walked over, bent down, and took hold of the wheel. “Let me help.”

As the coachman cracked his whip and urged the horses, He Lingchuan gathered true energy into his arms. With the power of both man and horses combined, the wheel jerked free of the stone crevice, sending up a splash of muddy water.

The carriage creaked and rolled forward again.

As he straightened back up, the figure on the straw also turned their head. He was greeted with a woman’s face. Her face was pale as paper, and she looked at him from under the soaked quilt.

She said politely, “Thank you.”

Her hair and bedding were drenched by the cold rain.

At that moment, a soldier escorted an older servant woman toward the carriage and barked, “Watch her, and don’t slack off!”

The Yuan troops had pulled back more than 160 meters from the riverbank and were now pitching camp anew on higher ground.

Moving further would have been safer, but Zhao Pan did not dare stray too far. He had to stay close to the river, ready to check any attempt at a crossing.

The Han River was a natural barrier. If it fell, the Yuan forces would be on the back foot at once.

The civilian carriage was guided into a small, narrow tent that barely covered it from above. Compared to the tents used by officers like He Lingchuan, it was shabby and cramped, but the soldiers guarding it were many. He recognized them as belonging to the grain convoy. They were his father’s troops.

The old servant woman in charge of attending to the woman left to fetch a towel. He Lingchuan stepped up to the wagon and lowered his head.

“You’re Hong Chenglue’s wife, A’Jin, aren’t you?”

Her lips curved slightly, somewhere between a smile and not. Then she sneezed.

He Lingchuan stepped back out of the tent and called one of the old servant women over. “Get her into dry clothes and bedding. If she keeps lying there like that, she’ll fall properly ill.”

The woman looked reluctant, but when he narrowed his eyes at her, she could only purse her lips and grumble, “We don’t have any spare quilts.”

He flicked a glance toward Shan Youjun. The man understood at once, disappeared into the rain, and came back before long with a set of dry bedding from who-knew-where.

Once that had been delivered, He Lingchuan stepped outside to give A’Jin privacy to change.

A quarter of an hour later, the servant emerged. “It’s done.”

He sent her off to boil hot water, then ducked back inside.

A’Jin already looked much better—less deathly pale, at least—but the faint hint of warmth in her cheeks was not matched by any expression on her face. She looked at him steadily and asked, “What do you want?”

She had already realized that this young man carried real weight in the camp.

“To make things a bit more bearable for you, that’s all.” Compassion for others was a human instinct, and his current counterpart was a crippled woman lying flat on straw.

A’Jin spoke slowly, “Whatever you people intend to do, it won’t succeed.”

“Oh?” He Lingchuan’s curiosity stirred. “And what do you think we intend to do?”

“Lord He said he wants my husband to withdraw his troops and leave,” A’Jin said, a wan smile touching her lips. “That’s impossible. You’re a soldier too. You ought to know that military orders are as immovable as mountains.”

He Lingchuan folded his arms. “I’m curious, did he lay down his sword and abandon his post for your sake back then?”

If he could learn more about Hong Chenglue, it would be all to the good for future battles.

A’Jin’s smile faded, and she fell silent.

“You’ve been living in seclusion in Bailu Town for years. Why choose this moment to break that vow?”

“For me,” she said. Her lashes fluttered once. “Beijia promised to find a certain medicine for him, one that would let me stand again.”

He Lingchuan’s brow furrowed. “Not for his own ambitions?”

“That medicine isn’t easy to come by, not even if we returned to Beijia,” A’Jin replied. She paused for a moment before saying, “I heard the servant woman say you’re Governor-General He’s son? Someone like you... I doubt you’ve ever tasted what we’ve tasted.”

He Lingchuan had no answer.

It was true. In either of his lives, he had never known that kind of hardship.

“When my husband and I were children, we fled a village where they ate human flesh. We fought stray dogs for scraps. Once, someone kicked us off a cliff. We barely survived the fall.” She spoke slowly, every word seemingly carrying the weight of those memories. “Even then, he was longing for the day he’d be strong enough to fight back and to live a better life. When he abandoned his post and moved us to Ling Province, then to Bailu Town, we finally understood something. There’s no such thing as seclusion in this world. There’s only struggle. For a commoner, just staying alive already takes everything they have.”

In troubled times, human life was worth less than grass. Even the suffering of the people was so small, so insignificant, and so easily overlooked.

Her eyes were calm, but beneath the surface lay deep, bleak weariness. “If it were you, wouldn’t you want to go back and seize power again?”

He thought about that for a long moment before asking, “So you believe he’ll never accept my father’s terms?”

A’Jin tilted her head back and stared at the dark tent ceiling. “I don’t know, but I’d prefer that he doesn’t.”

If Hong Chenglue withdrew from Xia Province, he would be openly defying orders from his superiors.

He Lingchuan chuckled twice under his breath. “So he’s also a man who moves with the currents, huh?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”