The State of Ji.
In Jiaozhi Commandery, an army of 1.3 million soldiers from the State of Ji was stationed. Further ahead lay Shuanghuai Commandery, the rebels' final stronghold. After dealing the rebels a crushing defeat, the Ji army had pursued them all the way here, only for the Duke of Long to abruptly halt their advance and pitch camp on the spot. Over three months had already passed since then.
On this day in the central command tent, a crowd of burly, fierce generals surrounded an elegant, rather slender man, clamoring furiously for permission to attack.
Yet the man only shook his head repeatedly, refusing to sanction an assault. He even ordered the two loudest generals dragged outside and flogged with military canes until their flesh was torn and bleeding.
Some of the more untamed generals quietly emanated murderous intent, casting fierce glares at this cultured man who was merely at the Dao Foundation stage. To their minds, the rebels were now cooped up in a corner covering barely half a commandery, numbering no more than three hundred thousand in all. Anyone leading troops over there could mop them up. It was practically an effortless triumph handed to them on a platter—securing noble titles for their wives and hereditary ranks for their sons would be child's play.
Faced with such immense glory, the Duke of Long still refused to let them march. Many generals harbored dark thoughts, suspecting he intended to reserve this achievement for his own clique. No matter how godlike the Duke of Long was at commanding troops, he remained a mere Dao Foundation cultivator, appearing frail and insignificant amidst so many dharma idols—not to mention the presence of two Scenery Command dukes within the camp.
If the Duke of Long were himself at the Scenery Command stage, none would have dared object. However, he had little talent for cultivation; after all these years, he had merely reached the late Dao Foundation stage, and his path had ended there. Many generals felt they could swat this fragile fellow dead with a single palm strike—why should they take orders from him?
Others believed the battles had all been fought blade to blade and spear to spear by themselves and their men, while this fellow merely sat in his great tent barking orders. What true ability could he possibly possess?
Before long, the two flogged generals were carried back in, not a patch of unbroken skin left on their buttocks and thighs. Only then did the generals rein in their arrogance slightly.
Just at that moment, a horn sounded. An imperial envoy from the King of Ji had arrived.
The envoy was a supervising eunuch. Without bothering to exchange pleasantries with the Duke of Long, he entered the tent and read the decree aloud. The imperial order urged the Duke of Long to strike at once and swiftly pacify the rebels, sparing the realm further waste of coin and manpower.
Yet upon receiving the decree, the Duke of Long simply ordered it set aside, then told the supervising eunuch, "A general in the field is not bound by commands from the sovereign. Please report back to the King: the time for a decisive battle against the rebels has not yet come."
As the King of Ji's foremost confidant in the palace, the supervising eunuch responded with a cold smirk. "...This servant shall certainly report truthfully.
"Yet, Lord Meng, this is already the fourth decree His Majesty has issued, and you have rebuffed all four. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but the state treasury is empty of coin and grain. It can hardly sustain the consumption of an army over a million strong for much longer!"
The Duke of Long's expression darkened. "When an army is in the field, supplies are of paramount concern! If the state treasury is empty, are the estates of the grand lords empty as well? Unless the rebels are utterly eradicated, do the lords intend to fatten themselves up only to welcome the rebels' butcher knives?"
The supervising eunuch sighed. "Lord Meng, calm your fury. This servant is merely a messenger; venting your anger on me achieves nothing. Still, I will surely convey your words."
The Duke of Long replied coldly, "Then let the lords in the court attend to their own duties. It is not their place to dictate terms to me!
"Whoever thinks they can defeat Lu Jiande is welcome to come take my post!"
At this moment, the Duke of Long's prestige was at its zenith, while the court officials capable of commanding armies had all suffered defeat at Lu Jiande's hands. Who would dare leap into such a fiery pit? In the end, the supervising eunuch departed disgraced, visibly harboring resentment.
Ignoring the generals clamoring for battle, the Duke of Long invoked military law on the spot, declaring that anyone who spoke of attacking again would be executed under martial discipline!
The generals fell completely silent. Only then did the Duke of Long breathe a sigh of relief and return to his inner tent.
He trimmed the lamp, unrolled a map, and studied it intently. On this map, along the route from Jiaozhi to Shuanghuai Commandery, four prominent marks were drawn. In each of these spots, mountains flanked either side before the passage abruptly narrowed—terrain remarkably similar to the pass where the Duke of Long had crushed Lu Jiande before. Back then, there had been only one formidable pass before the capital of the State of Ji, but in Shuanghuai Commandery, there were four such passes in total!
Though the rebels had barely three hundred thousand men left, the Duke of Long saw that those remaining were their core elites; the ones culled had merely been peasants with hoes and shovels. Thus, the rebels' true strength remained intact, and because they could be directed as seamlessly as limbs, their combat effectiveness might be even higher.
The rebels had all withdrawn behind the four passes, save for a single small county occupying a corner at the edge of the map, which jutted out conspicuously. The Duke of Long found it rather strange. He recalled sending a detachment to reclaim that area, so why had there been no word after all this time?
While he was engrossed in examining the strategy, a maidservant approached, offering a bowl of ginseng soup.
The Duke of Long did not recall asking for ginseng soup, but with his mind completely absorbed by the map, he casually accepted the bowl. Just as he was about to take a sip, a dagger suddenly appeared in the maidservant's hand, stabbing straight into his lower back!
The Duke of Long froze, then slowly turned his head. "Why?"
With a vicious sneer, the maidservant twisted the dagger hard. "The King of Ji sends his regards!"
"The King of Ji..." Blood welled continuously from the Duke of Long's mouth, yet his face remained remarkably calm. He pondered for a moment, then asked, "Why?"
The maidservant clearly did not understand and found the question exceptionally foolish. The King wanted him dead; what 'why' could there be?
A single glance at her expression told the Duke of Long everything. He sighed. "So it was because my renown eclipsed his... How ridiculous! Is this the sort of person the Martial Ancestor backed in his grand design? Good for nothing, bound to ruin everything... In this game, where... do the common people stand...?"
The Duke of Long's voice grew fainter, like someone drifting into slumber. His head tilted, resting on the maidservant's shoulder, and he fell into eternal rest.
The maidservant had been brimming with murderous intent, her face twisted in malice, but she never expected such a reaction from the Duke of Long. For a moment, she stood at a loss. In all her years as an assassin, she had never encountered such a person. The Duke of Long's dying words sent an inexplicable chill through her heart—words she desperately wished to forget.
Though it was high noon, outside the window it turned pitch-black, as dark as midnight. Thunder rumbled faintly within the thick clouds, and moments later, heavy raindrops battered down, devoid of lightning, pouring incessantly in sullen silence.
The torrential downpour lasted until evening. Only then did commotion erupt in the camp as someone finally discovered the Duke of Long had been assassinated.
All at once, an army over a million strong lost its leader. Under cover of night, several detachments marched out on their own, charging toward the rebels' final stronghold. As for the news of the Duke of Long's death, it made its slow way toward Jidu, likely taking seven or eight days on the road.
***
Shuanghuai Commandery.
A small yet exceptionally elite force marched along a mountain path toward Baocheng County.
Baocheng County lay on the edge of the rebels' territory. As the rebels suffered successive defeats, it had become exposed to the vanguard of the imperial army. This small force of several hundred men advanced at an astonishing speed, their warhorses specially trained to scale mountains and cross ridges as easily as flat ground.
At the center of the troop was a scholar who looked utterly out of place among the rough brutes around him. This scholar was none other than the rebels' Grand Chief, whose name shook the world: Lu Jiande. At that moment, a bearded brute said, "Grand Chief, why are we running all the way out to such a remote place? If you ask me, even if there's talent there, wouldn't it be enough to just send a few of us brothers?"
Lu Jiande glared at him. "A tiny place like Baocheng County has managed to hold out for so long—whoever is there possesses great talent! With the tempers and foul mouths you lot have, you'd frighten off any great talent before they could even speak!"
The burly man scratched the back of his head. "Well, nothing we can do about that. We only follow you, Big Brother."
Lu Jiande said, "No matter how capable I am, I don't have three heads and six arms. There are times when I can't manage everything alone. To achieve great things, relying on one man isn't enough, so the more talent we have, the better. A talent capable of holding their own like this is exceptionally rare; we must gather them to our side."
The burly man asked, "And what if he refuses to join us?"
Lu Jiande smiled, a glint of killing intent flashing in his eyes.
***
Inside the county yamen of Baocheng County, a lean man took off a scholar's robe and began pulling on the uniform of a head constable.
Behind the official desk sat a round-faced squire dressed in magistrate robes. However, his collar was undone and his sleeves were rolled up, managing to make official robes look like the garb of a rustic country landlord. The squire sitting in the court was none other than Wei Youcai.
In a chair beside him sat bald Lao Liu in full armor, propping both feet up on another chair. Across the courtroom stood numerous yamen runners, every single one of them bruised and swollen.
Bald Lao Liu called out to the lean man changing clothes, "Lao Ba, what are you fussing around for? Isn't there an assistant magistrate's robe right there? Let me tell you, that comes with official rank—way higher than a head constable!"
The lean man replied, "I just like being head constable! I can arrest whoever I want, curse whoever I want, and I don't even have to pay for meals!"
Chapter 993