klisemfg Chapter 478: Evil Spirits Feed Trouble, Provisions Run Critically Short
Chapter 478: Evil Spirits Feed Trouble, Provisions Run Critically Short
After Uncle Chen left, Ruyi became much quieter for some time.Ping’an could not persuade her no matter how hard he tried.
“Elder Sister, Mr. Chen isn’t gone forever…”
“What does that have to do with me whether he comes back or not.”
Ruyi replied without halting the needlework in her hands.
Ping’an opened his mouth, then shook his head with a sigh and went back to practicing his swordsmanship.
He knew his elder sister was tough on the outside but soft inside. If she truly didn’t care, why had she cried herself senseless not long before?
…
At the Borderlands.
The smell of blood hung heavy over the battlefield, mingled with the stench of rotting corpses.
After breaking through Dongyu City, Zhao Zhen ought to have pushed deep into enemy territory while morale was high. Yet, at this critical moment, his forces came to a halt.
The rear was in chaos!!
“Evil Spirits?”
Zhao Zhen frowned as he read the secret dispatch.
While Evil Spirits causing havoc locally shouldn’t greatly affect the battles here at the borders…
The trouble was the Evil Spirits were active precisely at the vital junction along the main supply road.
Several supply convoys in a row had been wiped out and the provisions were nowhere to be found.
They had also tried rerouting, but the geography offered no detour. To the left was an impassable river, to the right stood towering mountains that supply wagons couldn’t traverse. Taking a boat route risked damp and spoiled grain in days. They were trapped.
Moreover, the army’s own stock of provisions was running dangerously low. Pushing forward now, with the rear unstable, would invite disaster.
Forced by necessity, Zhao Zhen halted within Dongyu City.
Zhao Zhen refused to believe such bad luck could be coincidence. He suspected the taking of Dongyu City itself was bait!
A deliberate ploy by the Xiao army. While he busied himself consolidating the captured city in those first few days, they had set fire to his rear and cut his supply line.
“Your Majesty, provisions are dangerously low. If no new supplies arrive within ten days, I fear…”
Listening to the report from his subordinate, Zhao Zhen’s expression turned grave.
Meanwhile, in Western Xiao.
The main army camp was long settled, everything operating orderly, showing no sign Dongyu City’s fall had rattled them.
Seeing the Xiang Army stalled at Dongyu City did not surprise Shang Lu.
Years ago, during his visit to Da Xiang, he had already planted a hidden card in anticipation of this very day.
All he needed to do now was wait just ten more days. Once the Xiang Army was without fresh supplies, it would become as fragile as dry earth and pottery, easily shattered with a wave of his hand.
“A dragon elbowed to the east? My Dongyu City, do you believe it to be so easily taken?”
Shang Lu set the battle reports aside, his gaze remaining deep and steady.
…
To solve this, Zhao Zhen dispatched several thousand troops back to investigate the supply route problem.
Unexpectedly, despite sending nearly seven thousand men, they found nothing at all.
“Your Majesty, could it truly be… truly be Evil Spirits?”
Zhao Zhen didn’t believe it was Evil Spirits. It must be people causing the trouble.
Yet, even so, no provisions were getting through.
Zhao Zhen now realized: he could not solve this dilemma himself.
“Fetch paper and brush!!”
That night, Zhao Zhen wrote a secret letter.
Calling forth a Shadow Guard, Zhao Zhen commanded: “Deliver this letter to the Crown Prince. Waste not a single moment. And ensure no one else learns of it!”
The Shadow Guard, galloping under cover of night with relay horses, drove four horses to their deaths before reaching Shangjing.
Zhao Wushuang couldn’t help feeling anxious at the Shadow Guard’s abrupt appearance.
He had never known his Imperial Father kept agents like this.
Zhao Wushuang accepted the envelope with both hands. Only after the Shadow Guard vanished did he open it.
Inside that envelope lay another, still sealed.
This inner envelope bore no addressee. Instead, it held a single line:
[Deliver this to the Old Jing Imperial Mausoleum!]
Zhao Wushuang was stunned. “The Old Jing Imperial Mausoleum?”
He didn’t understand why his Imperial Father made this extra step. Why not have the Shadow Guard deliver it directly? Why involve him?
Though puzzled, Zhao Wushuang obeyed. He left the city that very night and headed for the Old Jing Imperial Mausoleum.
The Imperial Mausoleum from the Jing Era was long abandoned, its entrance sealed off years before.
Zhao Wushuang stood before the sealed passage, holding the letter, uncertain what to do.
Leave it here, or…?
He pondered this very question.
Suddenly, a fierce wind raged.
The icy night gale caught him off balance. He stumbled back and fell straight into the mausoleum entrance.
“Thump!”
Zhao Wushuang hit the ground, pain shooting through his hand.
When he opened his eyes again, he froze in shock.
“This…”
He felt utterly disoriented. He looked back.
The entrance passage remained sealed shut!
Yet he found himself standing within the mausoleum itself.
Zhao Wushuang gaped. Lifting his head, he saw the very center of the chamber dominated by a large vermilion coffin. A shiver ran down his spine, a wave of icy dread chilling his very mind.
“Did Zhao Zhen send you?”
A voice abruptly spoke.
Zhao Wushuang jolted violently, his eyes darting around the chamber.
“Who!! Who’s there?!”
He spun around frantically, consumed by panic.
The fear this unknown provoked was deeper than even standing on that grand assembly hall floor confronting his father.
“Are you Zhao Zhen’s son?”
Suddenly, a face appeared right before Zhao Wushuang’s.
Zhao Wushuang screamed and fell back.
“You… you…”
The white, vacant eyes locked on his. A nauseating stench radiated from the man’s tattered rags. His wrinkled face was deeply aged beyond measure.
He looked exactly like the paintings of evil ghosts.
The man said calmly, “Fear not. I am human.”
Zhao Wushuang gulped and scrambled back further, watching the stranger with extreme caution.
The man asked, “Why didn’t Zhao Zhen come himself?”
“The Imperial Father is…”
Zhao Wushuang managed, “… at the Frontier Pass.”
The blank eyes seemed to flicker. Then came a voice tinged with something: “Indeed courageous. Even at his age, ambition burns yet.”
Turning towards Zhao Wushuang, the stranger shook his head. “Your courage isn’t one-tenth of Zhao Zhen’s.”
He offered no further explanation. “Just leave the letter.”
Zhao Wushuang set it down.
Immediately, the man in rags waved a hand. Zhao Wushuang felt himself flung backward as if by an immense force.
When he scrambled upright again, darkness enveloped him. He was outside the mausoleum.
Throat tight with terror, Zhao Wushuang fled the area as fast as his legs could carry him.
Zhao Wushuang was not known to lack courage, but anyone else might well have reacted even worse – perhaps fainting dead away on the spot.
Back inside the tomb, the ragged figure opened the secret letter. His fingers lightly skimmed over its surface.
“Evil Spirits?”
He muttered, then abruptly pulled a Copper Coin from within his robes. He flipped it, fingers flicking vaguely.
Understanding soon dawned.
Reading the letter’s final lines, however, he paused, disbelief flickering in his expressionless eyes.
“Impressive… Zhao Zhen…”
He carefully folded the letter away, allowing a rare, quiet sigh to escape.
“Truly fits the great overlord.”
A long silence followed. Then, echoing through the cold stone chamber, came a final, softer sound filled with complex emotion.
“What a pity…”