Chapter 36

Whether seen through the eyes of Wei Jing and Shao Qing or that of the Kou family, Yuan Hong is regarded as a hidden threat. However, since Kou Xuan has been employed, any matter involving his only sister naturally brings additional concerns. Wei Jing did not handle Yuan Hong personally at first; he had Kou Xuan take care of him. If complications were to arise or if the result proved unsatisfactory, Wei Jing would not hesitate to intervene later.

However, according to Shao Qing, Kou Yue’s feelings for Yuan Hong have always been deep. After freeing herself from the shackles imposed by Sun Zong, her feelings did not simply turn lukewarm; on the contrary, she became even more eager to form a happy union with him. Surely Kou Xuan must be quite troubled by all this, right?

In that case, this expedition against the barbarians is an excellent opportunity for him. By permanently eliminating Yuan Hong, there would be no further risk of leaking secret information. Moreover, having Yuan Hong die in battle would at least earn him a heroic reputation, thereby bringing a satisfying conclusion to Kou Yue’s affair without harming the harmony among the siblings.

That same evening, Kou Xuan selected several accompanying aides—sure enough, one of them turned out to be Yuan Hong. He patted Yuan Hong on the shoulder and said, “Ordinary promotions are rarely easy to come by. If you want to stand out, having that rare kind of qualification will serve you much better.”

Kou Xuan had always treated this future brother-in-law gently, never showing the slightest hint of displeasure. His words were not only logical but also carried a tone of heartfelt sincerity.

Yuan Hong thought the same to himself—now that he had finally been admitted into the county office, he couldn’t remain a mere clerk forever. Swallowing nervously and pushing down his inner apprehension, he said, “Thank you, big brother, for your guidance.”

Kou Xuan departed as well, following closely behind—surely nothing could go awry, right?

“Alright, now go back and pack some fresh clothes—tomorrow at the fifth watch, we set out,” he instructed.

Kou Xuan watched Yuan Hong’s figure recede into the distance. Lowering his eyes in thought, he went to see Wei Jing and “borrowed” two men. Although these staff officials were guarded by their attendants even when accompanying the army, what he meant by borrowing them was simply that he wanted them to follow his commands.

Wei Jing asked no questions at all and nodded his approval.

…

“Kou Wenchang?”

Having just finished bathing, Shao Qing stepped out from behind the folding screen. Her face was rosy, and the collar of her nightgown was slightly undone, revealing a stretch of smooth, fair, and faintly pink skin along with a small, delicate patch of collarbone.

Wei Jing’s dark eyes darkened slightly. “Hmm, he asked about tomorrow’s escort.”

Shao Qing replied softly. Compared to Kou Xuan, she was actually more concerned about Wei Jing. It was her first time encountering war up close, and she felt a bit uneasy.

“The Pu tribe are skilled with poisons; you must be extra cautious. Also, the jungles in the southwest are rife with miasma—don’t ever let go of the pills that dispel it. And, ah…”

As she was inspecting Wei Jing’s cloth pouch containing the medicine pills, Shao Qing suddenly let out a small exclamation. In that instant, a pair of strong arms unexpectedly wrapped around her from behind—a familiar embrace, a familiar warmth.

“You startled me.” Shao Qing was taken aback. Ever since their marriage, Wei Jing had often shown affectionate gestures, but this was the first time he had suddenly hugged her like that. Once the shock passed, she felt a bit uneasy, with a trace of warmth lingering on her face.

“Rest assured, I’ll be back in a few days,” he said.

Then he expressed his concern for her: “If you have any matters to attend to, have someone handle them; do not leave the county office. I’ve already instructed a few of Wang Jing’s men to stay by your side at all times—even at night, they must guard outside your door and beneath your window.”

The Qingzhai Guards now manage the county office, which is the safest option available. Wei Jing had issued strict, do-or-die orders to Zhang Yong; if necessary, everything may be sacrificed, but Shao Qing’s safety must be ensured.

Shao Qing didn’t know it, but at that moment, those words were the third time he had instructed himself today.

Feeling a soft warmth in her heart, she turned back and said gently, “I will take good care of myself; you should, too.”

In the glow of the dim, amber light, her delicate brows and ruby lips, along with her eyes softened with tenderness, shone as she smiled at him.

Wei Jing’s heart warmed, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and press his lips against hers. He gently sucked and licked her lips – it wasn’t the first time. Through their mutual efforts, she had gradually shifted from her initial stiffness and tension into relaxation. Her two rows of gracefully arched, jet-black eyelashes trembled as if startled, and for a moment, with her eyes softly closing, she relaxed her body against his embrace, tilting her head back to allow him to kiss her.

But this time was somewhat different from before. He did not withdraw quickly; instead, his intensity grew, and finally, one large palm cradled the back of her head as he tentatively pushed deeper to breach her defenses.

“Mmm.” Shao Qing hesitated for a moment, but ultimately, she did not resist; she slightly parted her lips, and he immediately broke through her defenses.

A passionate, deep kiss, their lips and tongues intertwined, his breathing grew increasingly rapid, the rhythm more intense. Shao Qing struggled to catch her breath. The unfamiliar sensation of desire was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but push him away forcefully. “Mmm, mmm,” she protested, trying to break free.

With arms like iron pincers, she struggled like an ant trying to shake a tree, but as soon as she resisted, he immediately let go and held her tightly in his embrace.

Shao Qing’s face glowed with a rosy hue, and her apricot eyes were filled with shimmering warmth. Her hands pressed against his chest and abdomen, and her face was buried deep in the hollow of his neck.

Her face was burning. The feeling was too unfamiliar, the pressure too overwhelming.

Wei Jing gasped for breath, his heart pounding wildly, the surging heat in his blood nearly bursting forth. He closed his eyes and focused his energy, barely managing to suppress his restlessness.

“Sleep.”

Shao Qing lay in his embrace, tightly pressed against him, face to face. A hard object nudged against her lower abdomen, making her freeze in place—she dared not move. Instead, she hurriedly nodded, her thoughts flustered.

Her mind was in turmoil, her ears burning red. Wei Jing noticed and let out a soft chuckle.

Just two more months and his mourning period would be over.

Mortified, Shao Qing glared at him fiercely. The moment she touched the pillow and quilt, she immediately rolled inward, pulling the thin blanket over her head and face.

“Hmph, I’m going to sleep!”

…

Before going to bed, with her back turned to Wei Jing, she adamantly refused to glance at him even once. Yet, in her heart, Shao Qing couldn’t help but worry about his impending departure for battle. The moment the deep night stirred with his slightest movement, she immediately opened her eyes.

“Is it already the third watch?” Hurriedly, she donned her clothes and got up to tend to Wei Jing’s grooming and morning meal. Finally, when Wang Jing and the others brought over his battle armor, she and Nanny Ping helped him dress.

Compared to the brilliant, ornate chain mail armor Wei Jing once wore, the current red iron armor was decidedly crude. However, with his powerful, ape-like arms, lithe waist, and tall, graceful figure that seemed as if he were born for war, the moment he was clad in the armor, he looked imposing and majestic—his entire presence exuding an awe‑inspiring aura that made everything else fade into insignificance.

“My husband, you will surely win this battle from the start,” she murmured.

Wei Jing gripped her hand firmly and replied, “Wait for me. I’ll be back.” He gave her a deep, lingering look before briskly stepping out.

Having shared life and death all along, this was now their first separation—and both Wei Jing and Shao Qing were overcome with concern. She followed him out of the main building and stood in the corridor, watching his silhouette merge with the darkness.

After a long while, Nanny Ping urged, “Madam, it’s growing dark, and the night is cold. Please go back and rest.”

Wasn’t that so? Tomorrow was Mid‑Autumn, and the night wind grew colder with each passing day. She tightened her cloak, cast one last glance at the courtyard gate, and then turned back into the house.

Meanwhile, Wang Jing and the other two remained steadfastly at the door and window of the main room.

Wei Jing was not speaking boastfully at all; compared to the many battles—big and small—that he had experienced before, this jungle skirmish was truly insignificant. Moreover, he did not become complacent because of it; his pre-battle preparations were exceedingly thorough.

“By now, the two barbarian forces must have reached this spot,” he said as he tapped a point on the newly drawn terrain map.

In fact, this was no mere guess. An undercover scout from the Qingzhai Guards had already sent in a military report confirming that the combined forces of the barbarians were indeed at the position he indicated.

At dawn, 4,000 county soldiers from Pingtao had entered the mountains and were now about fifty li away from the enemy. But fifty li in the deep mountains differs greatly from the same distance on open ground. Kou Xuan said solemnly, “My lord, we must exercise extra caution so that the barbarians do not resort to deceit by using poison.”

Zhuang Yan, with a solemn expression, concurred.

It was true that the barbarians possessed a certain level of confidence and were extremely skilled in jungle warfare. Wei Jing did not intend to let his shortcomings play into the enemy’s strengths. He nodded, and then his index finger pointed to another spot. “Forty li to the northwest of these two positions lies a depression. After the battle, we can feign defeat and lure the barbarians into this area, then surround and attack them.”

In doing so, the barbarians’ advantage would nearly vanish, and their chances of victory would be effectively secured.

Wei Jing had a uniquely keen military intuition. Once he overlaid the two sets of terrain maps—the light and dark versions—they merged into one, and he immediately circled this strategic spot.

“Shen Liang, Deng Guang— the two of you will lead the vanguard. After engaging the barbarian soldiers, you must allow yourselves to be defeated rather than achieve victory. Once you have feigned defeat, immediately retreat to the northwest.”

“Xu Xin, you are in charge of the rear army. When the front shows signs of defeat, immediately lead the rear troops to join the front and take point.”

Han Xi had examined the more detailed terrain map sent back by the Qingzhai Guards and, recognizing how hard it was to traverse the rugged mountain forests, determined that he was best suited to lead the way.

Chen Qi, Deng Guang, and Han Xi all responded firmly, “At your command!”

“Remember: when feigning defeat, do not let any flaws slip through.”

“Yes!”

On the Pingtao side, the troops were deployed with meticulous urgency, and the two barbarian forces did likewise.

In a mountain hollow fifty li away from the Pingtao County troops, several thousand barbarian soldiers—dressed in short, round-collared cloth robes—had set up camp.

At the very center of the camp, inside a low tent, two men—one in blue and one in black—sat cross-legged. Their attire was not very different from that of the barbarian soldiers outside; however, the embroidery on their tunics was far more intricate and colorful, and each had a brightly colored feather fixed in his headscarf.

The shorter of the two was Jia Han, the chieftain of the Pu tribe, while the one about half a head taller was Meng Mo, the leader of the Yi tribe.

Jia Han burst into hearty laughter: “What an insolent little fellow! Not knowing his own limits, he dares to venture deep into the dense forest?!”

Truly, as if he cared nothing for life or death—among all the county magistrates of Pingtao, no one would have dared to do such a thing.

“A newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger—do you really think that the Pu tribe members who have ventured into the dense forest are still like those outside?” Jia Han sneered with a bloodthirsty smile and intoned in a sinister tone, “I want him to pay his blood debt with blood!”

Meng Mo furrowed his brow and said, “That Yang fellow is pretty capable; we must be cautious.”

“But this is deep in the mountains—what is there to fear? I reckon you’re just scared stiff!”

The two tribes not only shared little camaraderie but had even been adversaries in the past; if it hadn’t been for the new magistrate of Pingtao, they would never have sat together. Jiah Han’s face twisted with contempt as he immediately mocked, “Could it be that you were actually born of a Han? Your nerve is no different from that of the old Pingtao folk!”

Members of the Southwest barbarian tribes are generally short in stature and nimbler when weaving through the jungle. Meng Mo, however, was the exception—he was about half a head taller than the average tribesman. Moreover, he was born during the campaign when the former Yi chief accompanied his wife; since the chief’s wife suffered a fatal, difficult labor—returning only in skeletal form—rivals maliciously sneered that he was not born of the chief’s wife at all, but rather the product of the chief and a Han woman.

Meng Mo and the Yi guards in the tent were enraged; with a few sharp “swish” sounds, the guards immediately drew their blades and glared furiously at one another.

“It was just a joke, Meng Mo—don’t take it to heart.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Jiahan certainly would not have uttered such words, but with a formidable enemy ahead, he knew better than to kindle internal strife. So, after a couple of boisterous laughs, he declared, “Let’s set off; quickly, let’s slaughter that Yang fellow!”

After saying this, he departed, and the Pu tribe guards filed out one after the other, leaving only the Yi behind in the tent.

“Chief, he…”

Meng Mo suppressed his anger and, watching Jia Han and the others walk away with a cold gaze, said, “When facing a formidable enemy, there’s no room for internal strife.”

Yet he always suspected that the county magistrate surnamed Yang was no ordinary man. After all, he had managed to topple an entrenched clique that had held power for many years—and later had caused the Pu tribe and his forces suffered considerable losses.

After a moment of thought, Meng Mo whispered his orders, “Pass along my words quietly: when engaging the Pingtao county troops, do not take the initiative; stay behind the Pu forces, keep a vigilant watch, and adapt as circumstances demand.”

The next morning at dawn, the two barbarian factions converged, and after a few brief probing skirmishes, they finally clashed head-on.

Thanks to Wei Jing’s battle strategy, the Pingtao side appeared outmatched. The dark, damp jungle seemed to limit the county soldiers’ performance, and after being charged several times by the barbarian fighters, they ultimately began to crumble.

“Warriors, attack!!”

Jia Han licked the blood off his slender short blade and, with a bloodthirsty sneer, declared, “Slaughter that Yang dog-thief—leave none alive!!”

“Charge! Kill!”

As if injected with pure adrenaline, the group of Pu men let out blood-curdling roars that startled even the birds in the distance into flapping their wings frantically. With their blades raised, they surged forward like wolves and tigers.

The moment had come—Wei Jing waved his hand.

As the battle flag was quietly unfurled, the well-prepared Pingtao county soldiers caught sight of it. Soon, under the barbarians’ fierce onslaught, their formation broke apart, and in a state of panic, they fled northwest.

“Chase! Hurry and catch up! Exterminate every last one of our enemies!”

Han Xi and Chen Qi, both seasoned veterans, smoothly led the county troops and lured the enemy into a natural depression. With the command flag waving, Deng Guang and the others immediately took charge of their soldiers and encircled the enemy completely.

The depression was deep, making ascension difficult, while the Pingtao county soldiers, armed with bows and arrows, held the high ground and targeted those below.

At this point, is there anything still unclear?

Meng Mo, his face cold, waved his hand to signal his tribesmen to quietly retreat toward the center near the entrance—keeping as far away as possible from the Pingtao arrow formation. Jia Han roared in fury, “What a cunning and treacherous Yang bandit! If you’ve got the guts, come and face us in a fight to the death!”

With his eyes bloodshot, he coldly stared at Wei Jing, who had appeared at the highest point amid a crowd, while his hand behind him rose, signaling the release of poisonous smoke.

For such a minor skirmish, there was really no need for Wei Jing to take the field himself. With a cold curl of his lip, he let his silent disdain speak; meanwhile, Chen Qi, already livid, stepped forward and pointed, “You murderers and looters—using that despicable tactic of poisonous smoke and toxic fog, yet you still dare to insult others—how dare you!”

Just then, a thin wisp of pale white smoke began to rise from the enemy’s side, drifting over with the wind. Chen Qi immediately fell silent. He reached into a pocket at his waist and pulled out a tawny medicinal scarf, which he used to cover his mouth and nose, holding his breath to allow the poisonous smoke to pass.

Likewise, the Pingtao County soldiers mimicked his actions. Seizing the opportunity, Jia Han ordered a breakout; however, an arrow storm from downwind had already arrived, greatly impeding their advance.

With this brief delay, the poisonous smoke dissipated. Chen Qi tucked away the medicinal scarf and waved his hand, shouting, “Attack!”

Arrows rained down like a torrent. Cries of agony erupted from below as blood splattered and barbarian soldiers fell one after another. With his eyes burning red, Jiahan cried out, “Fall back! Retreat quickly!”

The depression was not small, and in its middle, there were quite a number of short trees and shrubs that could serve as temporary cover. The barbarians were also skilled archers—they carried short bows and quivers on their backs, and once they had staked their ground, they immediately fired arrows in retaliation.

Jia Han commanded his people to concentrate their attack on one particular spot. Having lived in the jungle for years, these barbarians were extremely agile; as soon as a gap opened up above, they would swiftly surge forward to exploit it.

Short arrows were shot upward from below rapidly, falling densely like rain. But at that moment, Wei Jing simply waved his hand, and the archers stepped back in unison by one pace while two formations of shield-bearers advanced. Large vine shields were arranged in two solid rows—both vertically and horizontally—blocking the enemy tightly, yet the gaps between them did nothing to hinder the archers from launching their arrows.

Han Xi laughed heartily, “Barbarians, these vine shields work well, don’t they? They were specially allocated by Gaoling knowing that we were attacking you!”

The quiver was small and the supply of arrows limited; if one plan failed, it would cost a crushing defeat. Jia Han roared toward the sky in anger, “What a Gaoling! What a bunch of bastards—Bao and Dong! And you, Yang bandit, if I don’t make you pay your blood debt with blood, I swear I will forgo my humanity!”

With the battle rapidly turning critical after his outburst, he had no choice but to steel himself and lead his people in a breakout toward the only exit that had been created when they entered the trap.

Treading on the corpses of his kin and the fresh blood, Jia Han roared hoarsely, his eyes bulging with unmistakable, gritted hatred.

The objective had been achieved, and Wei Jing issued a calm order: “Tell Deng Guang to open up the gap and let the two barbarian forces out.”

It must be understood that Wei Jing’s aim in this battle was not to completely annihilate the two barbarian forces. His decision to bolster his troops to counter the barbarians was precisely based on that; if he killed them all, the county troop camp would no longer be necessary.

The battle’s purpose was twofold: first, to weaken the strength of the two barbarian forces so that they would be unable to quickly reassemble and unleash another spree of looting; second, to maximally stir up deep-seated hatred among the Pu tribe—fomenting bitter enmity against Pingtao, Wei Jing, Gaoling, Bao Zhong, Dong Du, and the like.

Wei Jing’s gaze had never been fixed solely on Pingtao. By shattering the calm and intensifying internal conflicts, opportunities would arise.

With the command flag waving, Deng Guang immediately understood the order and directed his soldiers to act according to the original plan.

The barbarian soldiers fought desperately to break through, and at last, their efforts began to pay off.

Seeing that the two barbarians had already hacked their way to the exit—with a continuous volley of short arrows whistling in—Kou Xuan, standing not far from Deng Guang, had a faint glimmer in his eyes. He and Deng Guang were in charge of arranging the defenses at the exit. As a staff member who did not need to engage in combat—and was safely protected by the accompanying guards’ rattan shields—it was time to retreat. But…

Nonchalantly, Kou Xuan turned his head and glanced at Yuan Hong, who was huddled right behind him. He pursed his lips and signaled with his eyes to the two attendant guards whom he had already greeted.

“Ahhhhh!”

As the rattan shield shifted, Yuan Hong anxiously moved along with it. Unexpectedly, at that moment, someone tripped him; he lost his balance and tumbled straight downward.

And as if by sheer coincidence, he encountered a speeding short arrow head-on. Staring in terror, and before he could even cry out, the arrow whooshed with a soft “pu” sound, striking him squarely in his left chest.

Yuan Hong let out a wretched scream; his movement abruptly halted as he fell headlong toward the recessed exit below.

Wei Jing’s gaze was exceptionally sharp—he did not miss a hint of the commotion at the distant exit.

Kou Xuan’s actions were swift and decisive. Raising his eyebrows, he ordered Han Xi to “Dispatch someone to the exit to confirm that Yuan Hong is dead.”

Wei Jing’s move was purely out of caution, as though he had already planted an informer with Yan Ming, one of the Kou family members, just in case. But he never expected to receive word that Yuan Hong was, in fact, still alive.

Yuan Hong—now struck by an arrow—ended up in the hands of the Pu tribe.