He Did Not Want to Be That Kind of Man

Many in this column had never drawn lots from the Water Spirit, but He Lingchuan knew they were doomed to die tonight. Shouldn't they retreat while they still could? He Lingchuan exhaled a long breath and stopped Zeng Feixiong when the man hurried past once more. "Keep your eyes on what's ahead. I'll take the rear." Drenched in sweat, Zeng Feixiong froze at his words. "Eldest Young Master?" *Can you even do it?* Even though they had braved life and death together in the desert, wasn't holding the rear a specialized task best left to professionals? Of course, in the heat of the moment, he could not think of anyone else suited to shoulder such a heavy responsibility. "Don't worry." He Lingchuan knew he could still lay low in the middle of the ranks, playing the pampered master while watching others work themselves to the bone for his sake. But just then, he remembered that column of fleeing refugees in the Panlong dreamland, and the guilt-ridden look Liu Sanjiu had cast back as he ran for his life. Who didn't have a family? Who didn't understand the risks? Who didn't have to look out for their own future? Liu Sanjiu hadn't been wrong, but he, He Lingchuan, refused to ever be that kind of man again. So he grinned at Zeng Feixiong. "I have experience!" His combat ability was formidable; leaving it unused would be a waste. Still, Zeng Feixiong was not going to take his word for it completely, especially when the Eldest Young Master claimed to have "experience"—where on earth could that have come from? The young master had never set foot on a battlefield, so where could he have gained experience? Amassed it in his dreams? Right then, He Chunhua's voice carried back from up ahead: "It's fine. Let him have his way!" He had been keeping an eye on them the whole time. Now that his superior had spoken, Zeng Feixiong immediately assigned two men: Zhao Qinghe, whom He Chunhua had sent over, and Maotao. "Protect the Eldest Young Master!" he instructed in a low voice, shooting them several meaningful glances to signal that they could act at their own discretion and did not strictly have to obey the young master. The two nodded vigorously. Maotao was still somewhat uneasy. "Eldest Young Master, are you really staying behind? But those two worst lots..." He had been present back then. "Those things can't be trusted," He Lingchuan cut him off, turning to Zeng Feixiong. "Keep my family safe!" "That is my duty!" Zeng Feixiong rushed toward the front of the column, quickly disappearing into the distance. With over four hundred men in the personal guard and more than two hundred villagers, nearly seven hundred people were hurtling along the mountain road. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching scream echoed downward from above. He Lingchuan craned his neck to look. Some poor wretch had misstepped and plunged over the edge. Though everyone was frantic, this gruesome lesson finally put an end to the jostling and shoving. The shriek also jolted Zhu-shi awake from her stupor inside the carriage. She opened her eyes, dazed for a few breaths, before suddenly burying her face in her hands and bursting into tears. Madam Ying patted her back. "Weep, go on and cry. Ah..." Zhu-shi's children seemed to have been thrown down right around this stretch of the road. "Blessings never come in pairs. Though you have lost your children, once we escape this place, you will soon be reunited with your closest kin. That at least is some consolation." She consoled her for a long time before Zhu-shi's weeping gradually subsided into quiet sobs. Zhu-shi's eyes were swollen like walnuts, but her gaze was resolute. "Your family has given me a second life. Once we return to the capital, my Zhu family will surely repay you handsomely!" "Saving a life is accumulating virtue. Speaking of repayment is so vulgar." Madam Ying poured her a cup of water with her own hands. These words were not mere polite modesty. In Madam Ying's view, Minister of the Imperial Stud Zhu Xiyan was still in office, performed his duties well, and enjoyed the Emperor's trust; however, grandfather and granddaughter had not seen each other in seven years, and familial bonds would inevitably have cooled. Most importantly, Zhu Xiyan had far more than this one granddaughter. So whether the Zhu family would repay them like a gushing spring or a mere trickle, she did not hold out much hope. Of course, all of this was predicated on them successfully escaping the rebels' pursuit in the first place. Madam Ying sighed and lifted the curtain to look outside. The carriages hugged the mountain wall on the inner side, while the outer half of the path was densely packed with a churning crowd of people. Just a few feet past them lay the precipice, perilously close. She had heard every word of the conversation between her eldest son and Zeng Feixiong, stirring a sense of wonder in her heart. That scoundrel seemed to have finally grown up a little. The mountain path was rugged, requiring torches to light the way. Consequently, the two bandit factions in the village quickly noticed the dense cluster of torches on the western trail, where the crowd had clearly gathered. He Lingchuan and the two lieutenants drew their blades, taking thirty-odd men and a dozen horses to hold the rear. The thirty-plus men of the Auxiliary Army looked grim. Some secretly regretted not currying favor with their officers earlier, only to be shoved out as cannon fodder at such a crucial moment. Other than a fool like He Lingchuan who volunteered for the task, who would want to stay behind to cover a retreat? A man could lose his life in the blink of an eye. Fleeing with the main force still offered a chance of survival; staying behind to cover the rear meant they would very likely remain here forever. It was not that He Lingchuan did not want to bring more men, but the trail was so steep and narrow that more bodies would only hinder their movement. Of course, while single-file terrain was unforgiving for fugitives, it posed an even greater obstacle to the pursuers. The sporadic bandits who caught up from behind were all intercepted by the rear guard, either retreating in the face of difficulty or cut down with a single stroke. At first, it was manageable. But as the chaotic melee in the village spread in full force, more and more bandits came streaming toward the western trail. After all, Lu Yao's men were outnumbered five to one—an overwhelming disadvantage. After losing more than twenty men, Lu's bandits collapsed swiftly, with at least half fleeing westward by instinct. The road west was crowded with people; as long as they outran the majority of the pack, they would be safe. By contrast, the east was where Wu Shaoyi's forces had charged in, and the village entrance was the heart of the free-for-all brawl, where bystanders could easily be shot down by stray arrows. Thus, the pressure on He Lingchuan and the rear guard spiked abruptly. At this point, neither the soldiers nor the villagers had fully evacuated onto the western road. Too many people, too many carts, too narrow a road! If bandits mingled into the crowd, the consequences would be catastrophic. He Lingchuan made a snap decision, pointing at six or seven large wagons that had yet to clear the pass. "We can't get these through! Abandon them! Unhitch all the oxen and horses!" Qian-ma was right beside him and gasped in shock. "Eldest Young Master, those all belong to Madam!" He Lingchuan exhaled in relief. "Even better!" Qian-ma was struck dumb. "Take only the most valuable jewelry—it can't be more than a small box," He Lingchuan said briskly. "Leave the rest here. I have a use for them! People are about to die; why cling to worldly possessions?" Qian-ma dared not disobey. She could only retrieve the jewelry box, turn around, and hurry toward the front to report to Madam Ying. Madam Ying furrowed her brows as she listened, then asked, "Is the Eldest Young Master hurt?" "Ah..." Qian-ma racked her memory. "No, the Eldest Young Master looked quite formidable." Madam Ying leaned against the carriage window and looked back, her heart churning with mixed emotions. Back there, the oxen and horses had been unhitched from Madam Ying's luggage wagons, which were now positioned to block the middle of the mountain road. Naturally, He Lingchuan left an opening to allow their own people through. The soldiers were anxious to seal the gap, constantly urging the villagers, "Hurry up! Faster, quit dawdling!" A panting villager came running over, wearing a thick leather hat. Without glancing up at anyone, he kept his head low and burrowed straight toward the gap between the wagons.