In unison, they roared, "Loud and clear!"
The fury of their voices rolled like thunder, surging toward the clouds and startling who knew how many night herons into flight.
The envoy swallowed hard. General Red tossed the imperial decree back to him. "Someone take the envoy down to rest well. Tomorrow, he must still hurry to Panlong City with this order."
Two soldiers stepped forward and led the envoy away.
With a hand resting on the hilt of her saber, General Red stood facing the Panlong Army.
The mask she wore today was a demon head, looking exceptionally ferocious in the dancing firelight.
A gust of night wind blew past.
She did not move, nor did the thousands of men before her.
Only after a long silence did General Red command in a low voice, "We await Commander Zhong's final decision. Dismissed for now. Return to your quarters and rest!"
No one moved.
General Red turned and strode away.
Only after her silhouette vanished into the darkness did the plaza in the west of the city erupt with an earthshaking roar, nearly blown apart by enraged cursing.
The fury of the Panlong Army flared even higher than the torches held aloft in their hands.
Everywhere, men spat and cursed. Beside him, He Lingchuan heard someone already swearing at the monarch's ancestors nineteen generations back.
Utterly devoid of respect.
Door Plank hadn't brought his shield, so he could only stomp viciously twice on the ground. "Motherfucker... those cowards in the capital are gutless bastards who'll bear sons without an asshole!"
Hu Min spat into the depression left by his boots. "Why don't we just fight our way back into Xiluo and take the capital? Spare us having to swallow all this grief caught between both sides!"
A'luo shushed him. "Don't talk nonsense."
Willow asked He Lingchuan, "Broken Saber, what's wrong with us fighting our way back? We wouldn't need our motherland to send a single soldier to help us. Why... why is the monarch..." Unable to go on, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her temper.
"Why is he afraid of our return?" He Lingchuan said calmly. "Because we are too strong, and the motherland is too weak."
The soldiers exchanged looks, recalling the decree General Red had just read aloud. Though patronizing and clad in majestic rhetoric, its every line reeked of poorly concealed frantic agitation.
"'They guard against their northwestern frontiersmen more fiercely than against their enemies, that is all.'"
"Exactly!" A soldier from another squad nearby overheard and loudly chimed in. "Guarding against their northwestern frontiersmen more fiercely than against their enemies! The motherland is guarding against us—against us!"
Holding an isolated enclave alone for over a decade, only to be feared, suspected, and shunned like this by their own motherland—whose heart wouldn't turn cold?
"Aye, the motherland would rather borrow troops from the Beijia Kingdom than let us go back!"
"A motherland like this—better off without it!"
A roar of clamor swept through the crowd.
After who knew how long, He Lingchuan finally heard the crucial sentence:
"A motherland like this—better not go back at all!"
Responses quickly followed:
"Aye, even if we return, we'll only be shunned and looked down upon. We'd be better off staying on the Chipa Plateau."
"Get your facts straight! The ones who'd be shunned are the high lords—what's that got to do with us? We're just soldiers; where wouldn't they want us?"
"Go back to be cannon fodder?" another retorted harshly. "The forty thousand elite troops the motherland transferred away last time—every single one was a brave lad here! Once back, they were broken up and reassigned all over the place. In the end, they either died or deserted. Look how many are left now! Call them crack troops and fierce fighters all you want; if you and I go back, that'll be our fate too!"
"Will the monarch love his soldiers like sons the way Lord Zhong does? Will he command troops like a god the way General Red does? Look at how they quell rebellions back home—the more they quell, the worse the chaos gets!"
"Aye, a cowardly soldier ruins one, but a cowardly commander ruins the lot! If we go back just like that, we'll at best be rabble in a chaotic age. How could it compare to the prosperity on the Chipa Plateau!"
Listening to the clamor around him, He Lingchuan exhaled softly.
So, the Xiluo monarch's reaction was entirely within Panlong City's expectations after all, wasn't it?
Every move Panlong City made pressed squarely on the Xiluo monarch's fears.
Panlong City had jumped the gun before the monarch even issued the resettlement decree—that looked like impatience.
Instead of using the Jinxi Corridor offered by the Baling Kingdom, the Panlong Army had forged its own path, fighting its way back through the Xiji Kingdom—that looked like defiance and rogue recklessness.
Conquering an entire nation in just a few days was something Xiluo was nowhere near capable of—that looked like an unstoppable, haughty army.
With all these qualities stacked together, what ruler wouldn't dread them?
If Zhong Shengguang brought such an army back to Xiluo, who in the entire realm could match him?
Wouldn't an army like this take the Xiluo capital with effortless ease?
Thus, even if the monarch had hesitated before, upon hearing of the great victory in Xiji reported by Zhong Shengguang, his mind was finally made up:
They must never be allowed to return!
A resettlement decree? No longer being issued.
There had already been court ministers opposed to the resettlement, arguing that the Panlong Wasteland was Xiluo territory and the legacy of their ancestors, not something to be surrendered lightly.
So, in the name of the greater good and duty, the order was given for the Panlong Army to guard the frontier and pacify the realm for eternity!
He Lingchuan even suspected the timing of General Red's victory dispatch.
If she had waited until after taking the Xiji palace to send a flying message to the motherland, it would have taken at least a dozen days for news to travel back and forth, making it impossible for the envoy from the Xiluo capital to reach Yuheng City this quickly.
In other words, General Red had sent word of victory to Xiluo first, and only then leisurely led the army to besiege the Xiji palace.
General Red—or rather, the celestial god Mitian—truly did not place either Xiji or Xiluo in her eyes.
Tonight, west of Yuheng City, the Panlong Army was destined for a sleepless night.
He Lingchuan looked toward the direction where General Red had disappeared.
This had to be Zhong Shengguang and General Red's scheme.
They knew very well that the will of the people could not be opposed or suppressed, but it could be guided; thus, they had redirected the grievances and fury of the soldiers and citizens toward Xiluo.
This was what was known as advancing to withdraw—taking an offensive stance as a retreat.
In truth, Xiluo was indeed the chief culprit, so the blame was not misplaced.
Had it not been so weak and cowardly, the soldiers and people of Panlong would never have suffered so much hardship.
Yet Zhong Shengguang and the others did not know what price staying in the Panlong Wasteland would cost them in the future!
If they insisted on returning home now, could they avert the heroic tragedy that would unfold more than ten years later? Could everyone live in peace and safety?
Due to the monarch's rebuke and order, the Panlong Army halted its eastward return, continuing to garrison Yuheng City and confront the Jintao forces.
The Xiluo envoy whipped his horse into a frenzy, rushing to Panlong City to find Zhong Shengguang.
Clearly, General Red and the army under her command had to await the final decision from Panlong City.
***
At dawn's first light, He Lingchuan carried a bucket down to fetch water, only to spot several figures by the river.
One stood right by the water's edge, while the others kept a long distance.
From the silhouette alone, he could tell the figure by the river was General Red.
Her presence was simply too overwhelming.
"Who's there?" Sensing someone, a bodyguard behind General Red shot a sharp glance his way.
General Red's voice was very calm. "It's fine. Fetch your water."
Without turning her head, she knew what he had come to do.
He Lingchuan walked forward, rinsed his bucket in the river, and said, "Why aren't you resting, General?"
General Red stood facing east, gazing at the white mist drifting across the river. "I have no need."
Right, He Lingchuan only now recalled that having been transformed by Mitian's divine power into a demigod, she did not need food, drink, or sleep to maintain her stamina like ordinary living beings.
Though she had people beside and behind her, to He Lingchuan she felt solitary and aloof from the world, cut off from everything around her.
"General."
General Red said nothing, her mask merely tilting slightly toward him.
"Even if the monarch objects, the army can still fight its way back, can't it?"
"If we fight our way back, do you know what we would face?"
He Lingchuan shook his head. "I only know what we wouldn't have to face."
"Oh?"
"After returning to our country, at least we would no longer have to face the joint assault of Baling and Xianyou, and we would no longer be isolated without aid."
General Red nodded. "And then?"
And then...
"Even if we could return, do you think the Panlong Army and these millions of civilians could live peaceful, prosperous lives far from the flames of war from then on?" General Red said coolly. "That is impossible. No such pure land exists under heaven."
But they could be spared annihilation, and the story of the Panlong Wasteland wouldn't have to end in the most tragic way possible. Of course, He Lingchuan could not say those words aloud; he could only say with utter conviction, "It's worth a try! At least in Xiluo, there are two things worth fighting for with everything we have!"
"What are they?"
"The future, and hope!" And the chance to escape their destiny.
General Red tilted her head up slightly, as if touched.
"You believe the future and hope lie within Xiluo?" Her voice was aloof; only by listening closely could one catch the hidden mockery within.
"Could they be in the Panlong Wasteland, beset on all sides by enemies?" He Lingchuan retorted bluntly. "Even if Lord Zhong returned and seized the realm for himself, the foundation he forged would still be stronger than in the wasteland, wouldn't it?"
General Red laughed. "Daring to spout such wild, treacherous talk? He Lingchuan, you have quite a nerve." Back in the homeland, uttering such words would cost a man his head, or half his life at the very least.
"What I say is nothing more than what the Panlong Army thinks." He Lingchuan took a deep breath and made a solemn plea. "General, please lead us back home!"
General Red did not answer, turning her gaze back to the east.
A few li past the river was the border heavily guarded by the troops of Jintao.
He Lingchuan wondered if she too was waging an internal battle in her heart.
"Once you've drawn your water, head back."
So He Lingchuan bowed to her, drew a full bucket of clear river water, and walked away without looking back.
Regardless, he had tried.
But even though he had joined the Gale Army, his words carried little weight right now; General Red would not heed his advice.
This fine opportunity to alter Panlong City's ultimate fate might have just slipped away.
He Lingchuan sighed helplessly. Then he remembered the conversation he had overheard in the ruins of Thousand Stars City between the King of Yuan and his nephew, Shao Jian.
The King of Yuan firmly believed that the three things he asked his nephew to deliver to Zhong Shengguang were more important than himself, more important than the entire Yuan Kingdom.
What about Zhong Shengguang?
Would he think the same?
After returning, He Lingchuan lay back down in the dilapidated house, staring up at the starry sky through the large hole in the roof.
The deeper he became immersed in this realm of souls, the more things he cared about, and the less he wished to see it march toward its fated end.
Yet this piece of history was extraordinarily stubborn; changing its ending seemed almost impossibly difficult.
After full daylight broke, everything proceeded as usual.
Hu Min said to everyone, "Let's open a betting pool! Who wagers on pushing east, and who wagers on heading west?"
"Did you catch Skinny's gambling habit?" Willow snorted. "One tael of silver. I bet General Red will continue east. We've fought all the way here—why would we turn back in disappointment?"
Hu Min jutted his chin at He Lingchuan. "Captain, what about you?"
"I wager on heading west."
Chapter 452