Once she had left and the carriage started moving again, Skinny grabbed He Lingchuan by his uninjured arm and said wistfully, "Her place? Her place! Not bad, kid! You're about to make a name for yourself and enjoy the favor of a beauty to boot!"
The envy of a bachelor was written all over his face.
Two claps of thunder shook the heavens.
He Lingchuan sat up and stretched.
Drinking in a dream had at least one benefit: no headache upon waking.
Hu Min had thrown him a victory banquet at Yixiang Restaurant. What had started as just four people somehow grew larger and larger as the drinking went on, until even Willow and Door Plank showed up.
Judging by the way those two were exchanging flirtatious glances, He Lingchuan was convinced there was something going on between them.
Of course, that was before he got dead drunk.
How many jars of wine had he put away? He Lingchuan couldn't remember. In any case, the moment he opened his eyes, he was back in reality.
Come to think of it, Sun Fuling's promise hadn't been fulfilled yet.
There hadn't been an opening.
He Lingchuan rubbed his face, climbed out of bed, and lifted the tent flap to look outside. The torrential rain was still drumming down furiously. The heavens had been pouring buckets onto the earth for days on end—weren't they tired of it yet?
He had asked local soldiers about it, and word was that northern Xiazhou was now entering its flood season. It would rain for thirty or forty days straight, with only brief respites in between.
By comparison, Blackwater City's rainy season had never lasted so long.
Clearly, such weather posed a challenge for grain storage. But that wasn't an urgent priority right now. Just as He Lingchuan finished getting dressed, He Chunhua sent someone to summon him.
When He Lingchuan reached the central command tent, a meeting was in progress. He waited in an adjoining tent for a while, overhearing that they were mainly discussing relocating the camp.
It was now virtually certain that the Han River's main flood season had arrived ahead of schedule. After several days of heavy downpours, the riverbanks were prone to loosening and collapsing, so it was best for the Yuan army to pull back another hundred zhang.
As for the encampment locations, the ground south of the Han River guarded by the Yuan army consisted of soft soil, whereas the northern side had rocky hills. In past floods, the southern bank had always been inundated before the northern bank.
Thus, Zhao Pan was under tremendous strain. The main camp had to be moved, and quickly, yet it couldn't fall back too far, or the enemy across the river would gain an easy advantage.
Striking the right balance fell entirely on his shoulders.
Once the meeting concluded, He Chunhua emerged and saw his son.
"Dad, what is it?" For the past two days, He Lingchuan had been engrossed in cultivation, almost forgetting they were on the front lines.
He Chunhua smoothed a crumpled slip of paper onto the table. "You'll have to come with me."
The paper was soaking wet and the ink had smeared, but it was still legible:
*Second quarter of the Shen hour (half past three in the afternoon), Soaring Dragon Peak in Baiming Valley. If you do not come, the front line will fall.*
Could this be...? He looked up at He Chunhua, only to hear his father say, "Hong Chenglüe is insisting on meeting with us."
Just as expected.
"To be precise, he wants to see his wife to confirm she is safe and sound," He Chunhua said gravely. "The day before yesterday, I had my men shoot a dozen arrow-letters into the surrounding woods demanding his withdrawal from Xiazhou. Hong Chenglüe received them after all, and what you see is his reply."
He had been confident that even after the grain convoy reached the front, the Xunzhou skirmishers would still be watching nearby.
Sure enough, the messages shot into the woods had reached Hong Chenglüe.
"'If you do not come, the front line will fall'?" He Lingchuan said with surprise. "What boastful talk. How could he easily pull off something tens of thousands of Xunzhou soldiers across the river couldn't manage?"
He Chunhua said nothing, his eyes glinting.
"And yet, you still want to go meet him, Dad?"
"Better safe than sorry." He Chunhua was a cautious man. "Besides, he has barely a hundred horsemen. What do I have to fear?"
"Go get ready. We set out in an hour."
He Lingchuan started to speak, then held his tongue, accepting the order.
***
An hour later, He Chunhua led over six hundred riders through the pouring rain toward Baiming Valley.
Apart from the four hundred men from the grain escort, Zhao Pan had assigned him another two hundred elites. He Lingchuan noticed they were all carrying large bows.
"In a place like Baiming Valley, archers are the most useful," Zhao Pan had said.
Also traveling with them was a carriage, inside which lay Hong Chenglüe's wife, A-Jin. Naturally, it was no longer a shabby civilian carriage. Before departing, an older maidservant had bathed her, changed her clothes, and applied a light touch of powder to make her complexion look healthier.
A-Jin had remained quiet throughout, letting herself be tended to without resistance.
After another hour, the party reached Baiming Valley.
Upon arriving, He Lingchuan understood Zhao Pan's reasoning. Baiming Valley was encircled by mountains, with bare rocky slopes, jagged outcroppings, and countless crevices and cavities riddled throughout.
Such terrain offered excellent cover, which explained why Hong Chenglüe had chosen to meet here.
With local guides leading the way, Soaring Dragon Peak proved to be the first low ridge one encountered upon entering Baiming Valley, and it was not difficult to climb.
He Chunhua sent several scouts up, and the report came back that all was clear—no ambush.
Yet He Chunhua did not ascend the mountain. He halted the force on the open flat ground at the valley's entrance.
He also had a chair brought down from the carriage and sat down boldly.
His message was unmistakable: I kept our appointment and came to Baiming Valley, but I will not advance any farther. You do not get to dictate terms. If you want to see your wife, come out yourself.
With the terrain of Baiming Valley so treacherous, He Chunhua was not about to let Hong Chenglüe lead him by the nose. Who knew what traps or trickery lay atop Soaring Dragon Peak?
The elites he had brought dispersed to secure nearby high vantage points, and the archers took up concealed positions.
As if the heavens were smiling on them, the rain ceased just as He Chunhua arrived at Baiming Valley.
The earthy scent of damp loam hung in the air, and birds began chirping in the mountain woods.
The secluded valley remained empty of human figures.
Knowing haste produced nothing, He Chunhua simply closed his eyes to rest his mind.
After two quarters of an hour had passed in this manner, the ground five zhang ahead of He Chunhua suddenly shifted, loose pebbles bouncing in all directions. The personal guards stepped forward at once, ringing He Chunhua in a protective circle.
Sand and stones across the ground converged rapidly. In less than ten breaths, the earth caved in to form a pit over a zhang wide and several feet deep. Out of the depression climbed a stone figure two heads taller than an ordinary man, striding toward He Chunhua with heavy steps.
The guards drew their weapons, shouting, "Halt!"
He Chunhua waved a hand. "Let it approach." The thing didn't seem hostile.
The bulky stone figure took a few more paces before stopping. Its voice was deep and grinding, like millstones grating together: "Master He!"
He Chunhua arched a brow. "Hong Chenglüe?"
"Where is my wife?"
"Business first." He Chunhua's gaze swept over the distance. The stone figure was merely an animated construct summoned through puppetry to speak in his stead. Such arts had a limited control range, meaning Hong Chenglüe had to be lurking close by. Zeng Feixiong should already be leading his men through the surrounding area, searching for Hong Chenglüe's location.
"I do not want your life, nor do I wish to make things difficult for you. All I require is that you withdraw from Xiazhou and do not return for one year," He Chunhua said slowly. "While your wife is with me, she will be an honored guest, provided with fine food and drink. I guarantee she will not suffer the slightest discomfort—certainly far better than braving the wind and sleeping rough with you. After one year, I will return her to you."
Hong Chenglüe's ability to roam freely behind Zhao Pan's lines made him a tremendous scourge to Xiazhou. He Chunhua despised him for burning the army provisions, but feared even more the endless sabotage he might wreak in the days ahead.
Yet the man was as slippery as an eel and nearly impossible to catch. The second-best option, then, was simply to drive him away.
"No," Hong Chenglüe refused flatly through the stone puppet. "Return A-Jin to me right now. Otherwise, I will help the Xunzhou forces break your lines and defeat Zhao Pan within half a month."
He Chunhua couldn't help but laugh.
Nian Zanli, who commanded a massive host, was stationed just north of the Han River, yet even he couldn't cross the river's natural barrier or breach Zhao Pan's defenses. How dared Hong Chenglüe make such a bold guarantee?
Hong Chenglüe remained silent, waiting calmly for him to finish laughing.
The stone puppet was naturally expressionless, making it even harder for He Chunhua to read his intentions.
Negotiation was an art; without seeing the other party's facial expressions, one missed countless subtle cues. Deeply dissatisfied, He Chunhua remarked, "You claim you can defeat General Zhao, yet you don't even dare show your face before me? Come out and speak in person first. I place no trust in cowards who hide their heads and tails!"
The stone puppet fell silent.
A moment later, shadows flickered in the distance.
Father and son narrowed their eyes. On a small peak a dozen zhang directly ahead, two figures appeared.
Was that Hong Chenglüe?
He Lingchuan had never seen Hong Chenglüe, but he recognized the other person: Dong Rui.
That man truly had the vitality of a cockroach—impossible to catch and impossible to kill.
He Chunhua glanced left and right, and men quietly began sneaking toward the small peak.
The stone figure spoke again: "Master He, there is no need for such petty tricks. You cannot catch me."
How would they know without trying? He Chunhua smiled. "General Hong is bold indeed. But you were originally a Yuan man yourself. Why aid Nian Zanli—a man who once suffered defeat—in attacking the Yuan Kingdom? How about this: as long as you are willing to withdraw from Xiazhou, I will release your wife within three months."
The tides of war shifted in the blink of an eye. If Hong Chenglüe truly withdrew his troops from Xiazhou, whether he would—or even could—return later was anyone's guess.
Therefore, the crux of this contest between the two sides lay entirely in Hong Chenglüe's "withdrawal."
If he withdrew, He Chunhua would claim the merit of "talking down an enemy general without shedding a drop of blood," satisfying the front lines, Xiazhou, and the royal court while bolstering his own prestige.
Conversely, such a withdrawal would invite serious trouble for Hong Chenglüe himself. First of all, the troops under his command were all Xunzhou skirmishers, not Beijia forces. They had been working together for less than ten days, and following the incident at the abandoned mine a few days ago, the Xunzhou men were already disgruntled with their leader, murmuring behind his back that "those of a different race will always have divided loyalties."
If Hong Chenglüe withdrew from Xiazhou for personal reasons, how could the Xunzhou men be expected to obey?
Second, conducting guerrilla warfare behind enemy lines was a direct order from the Beijia Kingdom. Withdrawing without authorization meant disobeying superior orders—a cardinal sin in the military. Hong Chenglüe had only just returned to prominence; would he cut off his own retreat so soon?
Yet the leverage He Chunhua held was all too real.
Outsiders could never fathom the bond between him and his wife.
That bastard He Chunhua was trying to ruin his prospects. Hong Chenglüe, who was no stranger to agonizing dilemmas, visibly hesitated.
Dong Rui nudged him with an elbow. "Hey..."
Hong Chenglüe immediately raised a hand, cutting him off before he could say another word.
Seeing this, He Lingchuan realized that his claim of "helping the Xunzhou men defeat Zhao Pan" was very likely something he had no real proof to substantiate before others.
Chapter 294