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In Tian Sheng’s army camp on the northern border, happy soldiers packed and prepared to depart. The war would cease for the moment; Da Yue was too weak for a threatening offensive and the coming winter would bog down all movement, so Tian Sheng’s main forces would retreat south to De Zhou and Yu Zhou.
Passing soldiers curiously eyed the lonely, utterly silent tent of the Military Inspector.
Even though there would be no conflict for the foreseeable future, His Highness had begged leave to stay on the northern border in case Da Yue attempted subterfuge, and His Majesty had agreed.
And so instead of returning to colorful Dijing, Prince Chu would remain in the frigid north; no one understood what His Highness was thinking.
No oil lamp lit the tent, and the curtain windows and door were closed on all sides. The sunlight piercing the cloth only lit the tent into a grey and indistinct dusk.
A man sat by his desk facedown, his head supported by arms crossed atop the table. He had sat like this for the entire night never stirring, as if time would not pass and the days did not turn.
Wind snuck throw a gap in the tent walls and a thin military report almost fluttered free of the desk. This report was a twin to the one that had sat on the Tian Sheng Emperor’s desk.
Tidy words spelled out the sorrow and sacrifice and glory and joy of Tian Sheng.
“Battle of White Head Cliff. Three hundred Shunyi men climbed down a cliff behind the Da Yue camp and snuck into camp, assassinating eleven Da Yue Generals and thirty-six guards, paving the way for Tian Sheng’s great triumph. One hundred and forty of these men died under the enemy’s counter attack, their corpses badly mutilated and many bodies remain unidentified… Field Officer Hua Qiong and Vice General Wei Zhi were killed in action.”
…
Da Yue, in the Twentieth Year of the De Hua Dynasty, Winter, the Pu Border City.
Pu City was the richest and most prosperous border city along the Da Yue borders, and it was here that the Da Yue army retreated after the Battle of White Head Cliff. Orderly tents had been set up around the city walls, and though discipline still remained, the sadness and dismay on the soldiers’ faces could not be hidden.
Early one morning, a light mist covered the Pu City gates and a large line of commoners waited to enter. There was still a quarter hour before the gates would open, so the group chatted and gossiped.
“I heard there was a great defeat!”
“No, the soldiers only withdrew.”
“I heard that we were about to win the war when a brave enemy general attacked our camp in the night, and ten thousand soldiers killed a hundred thousand of our men!”
“Bullsh*t! That’s not possible! They killed at most ten thousand. I heard it was the Hu Zhou Tribe’s Steel Battalion, a cavalry group famed for bravery and ferocity. This is revenge for the time our Prince An ambushed and killed the Hu Zhuo elites several months ago.”
“They struck back so quickly. This new Hu Zhuo King is even more fierce than the last one, incredible.
“If we had known, we would never have offended those steppe barbarians, but I heard that the general who led them was from Tian Sheng.”
“Who? Who is so fierce? Even our wise and brilliant Prince An lost to him!”
“He died! I heard the battle was terrible, and the enemy team that snuck in were trapped and surrounded by over ten thousand soldiers. Over a hundred bodies piled up around Prince An’s feet, but a group of their soldiers refused to retreat. In the end our soldiers killed until their hands grew weak, and because the General was personally leading the sneak attack, he saw firsthand all his men die. He hugged the corpses and cried out, saying: ‘My brothers’ corpses have formed a mountain, how can I live without them!’ And he cut his throat. Look there, that’s his head hanging from the city gate.”
The people looked up at the two heads hanging above the city gates, filthy hair fluttering limply in the wind; the dark hair covered the blood spattered faces, obscuring all features from view, and it was only clear that the beheaded people had been quite young.
The commoners stared with conflicted gazes, shaking their heads in sorrow. One of them murmured: “What a pity, not even great heroes can die with their bodies whole…”
“Shut up!” Another voice scolded, “They are the leaders of our enemy!”
The crowd fell silent and the gathered group slowly scattered, none of them noticing the lurking men in the dark corners of the mist, some of them quivering, others clenching their fists.
Further away, a man leaned against the inside wall of a coach, quietly listening to the crowd’s gossip.
The dull sunlight was obscured by the curtains and the man’s features were indistinct as he lifted the curtain beside him and looked up at the hanging heads.
He examined the ugly sight very carefully, studying the strange and unclear features, carving them into his memory.
Finally he shook his head and let the curtain fall, a joyless smile on his face.
“Is that you…”
A faint voice murmured and died within the walls of the carriage.
There was no one to answer him.
“If it were you, how would you die on the hill of your brothers? Would you not say, My brothers have died and I will avenge them. You would hide your knife, and when they came to inspect your corpse, you would cut their throats.”
“That is who you are… Zhiwei.”
Fingers gently drummed the coach wall, and a quiet reminiscing smile bloomed on lips like a cold mandala flower blossoming in water.
“Feng Zhiwei.”
“Before I die, how could you bear to pass?”
More and more people gathered to wait outside the closed gates, and a distant group was soon approaching, a great banner fluttering above them bearing the name: An.
All the commoners made way for their prince.
Even though this prince had lost a great battle and been forced to retreat, Prince An had not lost any Imperial affection. The Da Yue Emperor replaced the Vice General but Jin Siyu remained in overall command. The army quartering at the border city also declared for all the hear that the prince was unwilling to leave and accept the humiliation. He waited here for winter to end so that the fighting could renew come spring.
The prince’s train never slowed, and the city gates opened to welcome him in while all the commoners knelt by the road to greet their lord.
Some people seemed to move a little slower, and guards turned to examine them with unkind eyes. Compatriots hurriedly pulled these men down, and their knees landed on the hard ground with audible thuds.
“Retards.” A guard cursed disdainfully before turning and ignoring them.
These foolish men lifted their eyes to follow the passing train, eyeing Prince An’s luxurious carriage before settling their focus on the last two coaches.
These coaches looked like every other standard Da Yue passenger carriage, but they were guarded incredibly heavily; steel bars covered every opening and doors were bolted shut; the windows were closed and covered with thick curtains, and not even a shadow could be seen from within.
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