Chapter 53

The blood of young men sometimes surges beyond their control, it’s quite normal. He Xuan often experienced it when he woke up in the morning.

But He Xuan never expected to have such a reaction after fighting with Mo Yin. Seeing Mo Yin’s extremely cold and disgusted expression, he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, and his mind immediately became clear. He also stood up.

The tent was extremely quiet, with only the sound of a few bursts of lamp flowers.

“Thank you, General, for your guidance. I have benefited greatly,” Mo Yin’s expression was indifferent as if he wasn’t very surprised by his outburst. “I will take my leave.”

He Xuan didn’t say a word, letting Mo Yin leave the tent. After Mo Yin left, he stood there for a long time before picking up the robe that had fallen to the ground.

Mo Yin was not a woman. If his clothes were wet, they were wet. Was he afraid of being seen? In the military camp, there were shirtless men everywhere. What was the big deal? He handed the robe to Mo Yin to cover himself, just to hide his own turmoil.

No wonder Mo Yin wanted to distance himself from him.

It seemed that before he even realized his own feelings, Mo Yin had already sensed something.

After all, Mo Yin was such a clever person.

He Xuan held the dirty robe tightly.

How could he…

He Xuan put down the robe and went to chase after Mo Yin.

Mo Yin wasn’t walking fast, and the night was very quiet in the camp. The hurried footsteps behind him stopped Mo Yin turned around, and He Xuan also stopped, but not for long, he immediately strode forward.

There was no one around. He Xuan arched his hand and said, “I was offensive just now, please forgive me, Advisor.”

Mo Yin said nothing, just looked at him faintly, as if everything was already understood. With his hands behind his back, he said indifferently, “The military is suffering, I understand.”

Although He Xuan hadn’t fully clarified his own thoughts, Mo Yin’s words were obviously distorted. He Xuan wanted to explain, but Mo Yin’s eyes were as cold as ice.

He gave him a way out, if he wanted to take it, he could, if not, he would tear down his face. He wasn’t afraid to fight with him.

He Xuan vaguely felt Mo Yin’s disgust and rejection. He came from a noble background, talented in both literary and military arts, and had never suffered any major setbacks, nor had anyone treated him like this. But in the end, it was he who was wrong. Mo Yin had a wife before. He Xuan bowed slightly and said, “It won’t happen again in the future.”

Previously, he hadn’t realized it, but now that he has, he should cut off these feelings.

This was a military camp. They were about to face a life-and-death battle. As the commander, he shouldn’t harbor any childish thoughts. There was no reason for the commander and the strategist to be separated because of such thoughts.

He Xuan’s expression was determined, and Mo Yin’s cold expression gradually softened. He didn’t say anything, just raised his hand slightly, and He Xuan felt a sense of gentleness around him. And with that, the two reconciled.

The silver moon hung high in the sky. He Xuan straightened up and bid farewell, looking resolute and decisive.

Mo Yin watched his departing figure, feeling a bit emotional.

He had distanced himself from He Xuan in order to cut off He Xuan’s feelings for him, but he didn’t expect today’s incident to expose it, and He Xuan ended up cutting off the feelings himself.

In the previous world, love became the last support for the Pei brothers.

But in this world, for He Xuan, love seemed to be just an embellishment.

Unable to control the emergence of emotions, and then severing them.

Mo Yin looked pensive.

He Xuan had more important things to do in his heart, and there were more important things to protect. He had to defend this border, reclaim their homeland, so he didn’t care about small loves or affections.

But what about him? Was he going to destroy the most important things in He Xuan’s heart?

At that moment, Mo Yin’s mind was filled not with the joyful laughter at the collapse of the world as it was in the previous world, but with the faces of the ordinary people in Yancheng, their sincere and admiring faces, and the determined faces of Cheng Wu and Zhang Zhi when they accepted missions without asking.

Mo Yin pondered under the moonlight for a moment, then chuckled softly.

In this world, he didn’t really have any “missions” to speak of. Where was there anything that must be done?

Ultimately, it all came down to following his heart.

He wanted what He Xuan wanted, perhaps they would be on the same path. Let’s see what happens next, and how they would part ways and fight against each other.

Mo Yin turned around and left.

*

With the Barbarian Tribe showing signs of movement, tension rose in the camp. For this battle, He Xuan had been preparing for almost two years. The troops, horses, and provisions were all ready, and the Yingfu Army trained by Mo Yin had become even more formidable. Therefore, rather than feeling nervous, He Xuan felt more excited.

Moreover, after the incident where He Xuan and Mo Yin inadvertently revealed the truth, He Xuan immediately adjusted his attitude. He suppressed all those evil thoughts and paid extra attention to his words and actions. He treated Mo Yin with courtesy, and gradually, their relationship eased. However, it seemed they couldn’t return to the mutual admiration they had when they first met.

He Xuan didn’t care much about that. He didn’t need mutual admiration; he only needed loyalty. They were brothers who would fight together. If he still had such thoughts, all the preparations he had made over the years would have been in vain.

So, from summer to autumn, during the crispest days of autumn, the barbarians launched their attack!

Soldiers were dispatched to guard each city, but their numbers were limited. It was merely a gesture to signal for help, but the barbarians didn’t give them a chance to send any signals.

When He Xuan received the news, the barbarians had swiftly occupied three small border cities. Flames rose within the cities, people were killed, and the cities were looted. Neither civilians nor soldiers were spared. It was only when the nearby city’s messengers noticed the situation that they hurried back to camp to report.

Upon hearing this, He Xuan immediately rose. His face was covered in thick black smoke, but he quickly calmed down. As the commanding general, he couldn’t let anger cloud his judgment. He spoke coldly, “Summon the generals to the command tent for discussion.”

If the barbarian tribes didn’t have some capabilities, they wouldn’t have troubled them for over twenty years. Their tactics were extremely flexible, mostly consisting of cavalry, which made them highly mobile. If they could win a battle, they fought; if not, they retreated, only to return later. Having grown up in harsh conditions, they were not afraid of suffering. While the border soldiers fought to defend their homeland, the barbarians fought for survival. The clash of these two wills made it hard to predict who would emerge victorious.

Inside the command tent, all the generals and officers were present, including Mo Yin, who listened as He Xuan organized the troops and strategized.

The barbarian forces had gathered heavily, occupying three cities to the west. Since these cities were backed by Yilan, once the barbarians took control, they didn’t have to worry about being attacked from behind. He Xuan intended to split their forces and ambush them, launching surprise attacks from the north and south to encircle the barbarians.

The tactic sounded simple and clear, but executing it with millions of troops was extremely difficult. Therefore, He Xuan decided to lead the northern attack himself while some of his old comrades, such as Yinghuo and Chang Sansi, would attack the remaining city from the south.

The rest of the officers and soldiers were to remain in the camp or protect the various cities against potential attacks by the barbarians.

Mo Yin was assigned to stay in the military camp.

After giving their orders, the officers began their respective actions. Personal guards helped He Xuan put on his armor. He stood tall and imposing, his face stern, eyes glinting with determination.

The war drums sounded, and the movements of thousands of soldiers and horses shook the entire camp.

He Xuan personally led ten thousand cavalry and twenty thousand infantry, mostly his trusted guards who had accompanied him during the suppression of the rebellion in the mountain city. It was a moment of valor, with the soldiers shouting, their faces fierce with determination.

At that moment, Mo Yin arrived.

He Xuan hadn’t mounted his horse yet, dressed in armor with a sword at his waist, his expression heavy. When he saw Mo Yin, there was no hint of tenderness in his heart. Mo Yin stood before him and said, “General, I’ve come to see you off.”

A slight smirk tugged at the corners of He Xuan’s tight lips, hardly a smile. “Wait for my triumphant return.”

“I also want to ask for a favor,” Mo Yin continued, his eyes fixed on He Xuan.

He removed his cloak, revealing armor shining with silver. He Xuan’s pupils contracted as he looked at Mo Yin in surprise.

“General, I’m willing to lead the troops and fight,” Mo Yin said. “Please order me to battle, and let General Chen stay behind to oversee the overall situation in the camp.”

Thousands of soldiers below watched as He Xuan clenched his sword tightly, the wind howling, sand swirling. He Xuan’s face was stern, and from his lips came two words forced out through gritted teeth — “Granted.”

“Thank you, General.”

Mo Yin bowed deeply, then looked up at He Xuan. “Take care of yourself.”

—

After occupying the three cities, the barbarians didn’t revel in their victory. The Chang Army was no longer what it used to be. It now possessed a terrifying ghost army, as unpredictable as their cavalry, merciless in battle.

The barbarian tribes defended the three cities like fortresses. They knew they couldn’t hold these cities, so they ravaged them without restraint, killing, looting, and committing atrocities. They conversed and plotted in their barbarian tongue, preparing to send the ghost army to meet the king of the underworld when they arrived.

Amidst the wind and sand, with smoke billowing, it seemed as if a great army was approaching. The lookout for the barbarians immediately scrambled down from the city walls, excitedly spreading the news of the enemy’s arrival.

The barbarians were prepared. There was deep-seated hatred and enmity between them, a matter of life and death!

The barbarian cavalry charged out, only to meet a peculiar force.

A black horse, clad in silver armor, with a ghostly visage, had a red tassel fluttering atop a long spear. Riding at the forefront was a lone figure, followed by a host of troops and horses, all bearing the rumored black marks of the ghost army on their faces!

With new grudges and old hatreds rushing to their hearts, the barbarian army roared and charged forward —

This was Mo Yin’s first true experience on the battlefield. As the warhorses thundered and the hoofbeats resounded, he felt a passion ignited in his blood. It was a strange sensation as if he were born and raised for this moment, not for revenge or power, but simply to defend his homeland and reclaim lost territory.

The barbarians were indeed a great threat on the border. With skilled cavalry on both sides, the clash seemed evenly matched. From birth, the soldiers of the Yingfu Army had embraced death as their creed, fearless and relentless. On the battlefield, all strategies and calculations were meaningless; there was only the constant struggle of life and death.

The clash of weapons, the neighing of horses, and the deafening cries of battle wove together to create the most intense song of slaughter in the desert.

Mo Yin was drenched in blood from head to toe, his hair, ears, and palms sticky with gore. His warhorse fought fiercely, darting back and forth among the enemy, leading the charge. He was at the forefront, slashing through the ranks, while his soldiers fought bravely, dismounting to fight on foot and remounting swiftly, arrows piercing their bodies as they swung their swords.

Mo Yin never enjoyed killing; it was the crushing of power, the release of primal instincts. Yet in this carnage, he felt a different sensation. The slaughter was hot, burning, no longer cold and meaningless.

After what felt like an eternity of fighting, the sound of arrows whistling from the north reached their ears. The barbarians fell like wheat before a scythe. Mo Yin dodged a thrust of a long spear, drew his own sword from his waist, and swiftly decapitated his foe. The scalding blood splattered over him as he looked around.

He Xuan, covered in blood, rode at the head of his troops, leading the charge through the swirling dust and smoke —

Mo Yin immediately issued orders, and the Yingfu Army withdrew from the battlefield, surrounding and supporting He Xuan’s forces!

“Zigui —”

He Xuan’s thunderous shout echoed.

Mo Yin rode swiftly, swinging his sword to cut down an enemy’s arm as he looked toward He Xuan’s approach.

The two armies converged, their horses seeming to recognize each other. Swiftly, they delegated the need for reinforcements to each other’s rears. Mo Yin and He Xuan shoulder to shoulder, their swords flashing as they cut down the oncoming enemies.

“How is it?” He Xuan bellowed.

Mo Yin’s throat hoarsely replied, “You came too early; I haven’t had my fill yet —”

With the combined might of the two armies, they finally overwhelmed the barbarians, forcing them to retreat westward, as He Xuan anticipated. Mo Yin and He Xuan led their soldiers, cutting down the enemy until they reached the Yilan border, where the miasma was thick. Only then did the army halt their pursuit.

From day to night, the battle raged on, with the sun and moon appearing together in the sky. He Xuan ordered a rest and a count of the casualties on the spot. Dismounting, he removed his helmet, his hair matted with blood, stiffened into clumps. He wiped his face casually.

Mo Yin also removed his helmet, his hair disheveled. He took off the ghostly mask from his face, only to hear a voice beside him: “Zigui.”

Mo Yin turned, his face still clean, and upon seeing He Xuan covered in dust and blood, he smiled. His face was clear and pure, like ice melting.

On the battlefield, one’s thoughts became faint, as if one were small, insignificant. All the love, hate, and grudges seemed to disappear, leaving only oneself, one’s horse, one’s sword, and one’s life…

The purification of the battlefield was more intense than all the shadow-killing in the training room. For the first time, Mo Yin felt that he was alive, not just to pursue pleasure.

“Why wear a mask on the battlefield?”

Mo Yin glanced down at the ghostly mask in his hand, for he was indeed a ghost in this world.

“Why does the King of Lanling wear a ghost mask?” Mo Yin’s tone was teasing. “Because I’m too handsome.”

He Xuan also chuckled, gazing at Mo Yin’s fair face. “Zigui, thank you for being here.” He raised his hand, revealing a deep bloodied scar on his palm, caused by tearing off the spear tip aimed at Mo Yin. Mo Yin slowly extended his hand, revealing a scar on his own, as they fought side by side, their hearts united. There was no one saving the other; on the battlefield, they were one.

Two scarred palms were tightly clasped together.

At this moment, it was not about romance but about the bonds forged in life and death.