Chapter Six: The Elven Toast

“This matter actually concerns you as well. If you don’t act, your chili fields will bear the name Chen—there are secret reports from the capital that Old Shao has already submitted a memorial accusing me of neglecting my duties in Chishui for years, demanding the removal of my titles as Pacification Commissioner of Chishui and General of Zhaowu.” She bit her silver tooth and said, “How could such a high-ranking official, the Right Governor of Sichuan with real power over the province, insist on opposing us?”

“My teacher is Zhu Xieyuan,” Yun Zheng sighed. “Whatever Lord Zhu supports, Lord Shao will inevitably oppose. Ninglu, you’ve been dragged into this by me. As the commanding officer, protecting you, the commander of the Qiongxuan Camp, is my duty.”

Zhu Xieyuan, Governor of Guizhou and the Ming Empire’s foremost general in the southwest, was a thorn in the side for the peace faction led by Shao Jiechun, who advocated for conciliating the rebellious Shuixi forces. Yun Zheng even suspected that the leak of military intelligence to Shuixi leader Li Yufeng, which enabled Li’s sudden attack on Guiyang, was orchestrated by Shao Jiechun and his faction—unfortunately, there was no concrete evidence.

Ye Xi paid no mind to Yun Zheng’s verbal sparring. “Chen Yuchong has effectively controlled the Chishui Pacification Office for six years. Sooner or later, he will seize the position of chief commissioner. If Old Shao won’t act, he will bribe others to do so.”

“A treacherous servant betraying his master—such a familiar script. The Shuixi An clan, led by An Litong, spared neither maids nor servants, yet allowed Chen Yuchong, the steward, to survive. Chen Yuchong even took advantage of your youth to claim credit for rallying the scattered troops and rebuilding Chishui, securing the post of deputy commissioner. After six years of managing the region, the time has come for daggers to be drawn.”

Yun Zheng emphasized the words “six years” with particular weight—obviously, the cultivation involved more than just Chen Yuchong.

Over these years, Ye Xi had fought alongside him. Intimidated by Chen Yuchong’s ruthlessness, she dared not return to Chishui lightly. Six years had passed; Chen Yuchong must have fortified Chishui into an impregnable stronghold. Now, as he and Ye Xi ventured into the enemy’s lair, they were like plunging into a dragon’s den or a tiger’s lair.

Yet Ninglu’s grandfather was none other than the legendary Ye Xiaotian, known as “King Ye of Heaven,” who had earned great merit quelling Yang Yinglong during the Wanli era. During his lifetime, his influence stretched across half of Bozhou and parts of Sizhou, only receding to the family’s actual fief of Chishui after Ye Xi’s father succeeded him.

“We have been driven to the cliff’s edge; we have no choice but to fight,” Ye Xi said.

“Yes, we. If I do nothing this time, Lord Shao will think that even Zhu Xieyuan’s favored disciple is just an incompetent coward. My teacher is called the Zhuge Liang of the southwest by the people of Guizhou, so does Lord Shao see me, Yun Zheng, as nothing more than a Ma Su?”

Ye Xi’s lips curved into a teasing smile like autumn lotus petals. “Officialdom knows no private feelings. If you can be utterly defeated by a scoundrel like Chen Yuchong, your teacher might have no choice but to weep as he beheads you.”

“Whether a thoroughbred or a nag, this battle will reveal the truth,” Yun Zheng’s expression suddenly hardened like ice as he rubbed his hands. “We depart now. There are still bandit activities near Guiyang; we must let the outside world believe Deputy Commander Yun still commands the camp.”

Leading two thousand elite troops in a grand march to Chishui to capture Chen Yuchong alive?

Not impossible. Such conflicts among local lords were common in Ming history, and the court often turned a blind eye.

Yun Zheng did not oppose such a blunt, straightforward approach lacking subtlety. But rashly sending troops risked bloodshed on this scarred land and gave political enemies of his teacher ammunition for attack.

Night fell low, moonlight like silver gently spilling over the ancient village.

Before setting out, to avoid unnecessary trouble, Yun Zheng meticulously disguised himself—simply by smearing a dark pigment over his face and modifying his features somewhat.

This time, Yun Zheng posed as a Yi youth, known for their darker skin.

Seeing Yun Zheng’s darkened cheeks, Ye Xi smiled faintly. “Finally willing to let ‘She Fangshu’ appear again?”

War was not only about fighting and killing but also deception and intrigue.

---

A thousand years ago, the military sage Sun Wu said that victory in war depends not just on troop strength and tactics but also on understanding and controlling enemy intelligence beforehand. He emphasized that spies are the closest and most trusted among the army, the most generously rewarded, and whose affairs are most secret, detailing five types of spies and their crucial roles.

Having risen from a lowly soldier, Yun Zheng had rich experience in this regard. For example, “She Fangshu,” the Yi boy, was an identity he once used deep behind enemy lines.

This identity was known only to the highest echelons of the Ming Empire’s southwest command, such as Qin Liangyu and Zhu Xieyuan, and held special significance for Ye Xi, still a young girl at the time.

In chaotic times, the deepest resilience often springs from the simplest hearts of common folk.

For this reason, whenever turmoil arrives, the stage of chaos enacts stirring tales of heroic commoners.

Many who lived through it still recall that six years ago, in the third year of the Tianqi era, a determined youth risked death to infiltrate the rebel base of the She Chongming army in Yongning City. Amidst flashing blades, he navigated, relying on half courage and half luck to open the city gates, paving the way for General Qin Liangyu’s white-flag troops to quell the rebellion in glorious victory.

Later, all learned this youth was named She Fangshu, a loyal distant scion of the Yongning She clan.

He was also one of Ye Xi’s sworn followers.

From then on, Ye Xi, a seventeen-year-old girl who had just suffered the annihilation of her family and faced the perils of a chaotic world alone, began to be accepted by the complex adult world. The family title she inherited out of necessity also gained recognition.

That year, both Yun Zheng, then a mere minor banner officer, and Ye Xi, still inexperienced, were too young to openly display the profound bond between them.

Under the cloak of darkness, they relied on silent understanding, clinging closely to one another, supporting each other to withstand the storms around them.

Like morning mist, the memories slowly faded.

Yun Zheng smiled. “Directly attacking Chishui and capturing Chen Yuchong alive is the most straightforward method. But since Chishui is your old turf and Chen Yuchong has painstakingly fortified it for years, it’s as tough as a turtle shell. If our army goes in, avoiding some damage will be difficult.”

Since Ye Xi’s family was wiped out by the Shuixi An clan rebels, and she was rescued by Yun Zheng’s troops, she had fought alongside him for six years, while Chen Yuchong, the steward, took advantage to usurp the real power of the Chishui Tusi.

Now, dressed as common wanderers, they shouldered their packs and stepped out of Deng Village side by side, like ordinary martial couples. Yun Zheng wore a bamboo hat from Fanyang, and despite his darkened skin, looked remarkably handsome.

Outside the village, female clerk An Miaotong was already waiting with dozens of white-clad swordsmen holding horses. Among the Yi people, she was considered quite fair-skinned.

Though a Ming deputy commander’s forces rarely exceeded three thousand, there were always ways to adapt. For example, these white-clad swordsmen were Yun Zheng’s household retainers.

On this journey, these swordsmen and Yun Zheng himself would accompany Ye Xi as her personal guards to reclaim power in the city.

Seeing Yun Zheng’s determined face, several of his longest-serving retainers had moist eyes.

Along this long and winding road, they had witnessed Yun Zheng’s brilliant rise—a legendary tale of growth.

---

Seven years ago, the fifteen-year-old youth staggered out from the ruins and heaps of bones in Guiyang, unable yet to wash the war’s shadow from his shoulders, but resolutely threw himself into the chaos of the times.

Repeated hellish trials never extinguished his yearning to rebuild a better world. One impossible miracle after another was accomplished by his hand.

Like the brightest star in the night sky, shining brilliantly on the horizon.

“This time, helping General Ye Xi reclaim her family’s legacy, no one can know I’ve left the Guiyang area. Deputy An, come up with an excuse for my absence,” Yun Zheng said. Known for his honesty, he was naturally not skilled at lying.

An Miaotong answered seriously, “Lord Luo just sent urgent secret reports: several bandit groups have secretly conspired to ambush the court’s road-building officials. This matter is critical, and urgently requires your lordship’s command.”

Though naturally sweet-featured, when serious, she exuded a cold, intellectual charm that caught many retainers’ secret admiration.

Yun Zheng nodded approvingly. “Very good reason. Excellent.”

“The situation is urgent. We leave immediately. Yun San and Yun Si, you accompany me to Chishui. Yun Liu and Yun Qi, take these ragtag recruits to Xianglu Mountain for further training.”

“Tell them the autumn outing is over. Next, they face real brutal war.”

Yun Zheng, of course, wouldn’t admit he was simply afraid some of these kids were liabilities and so sent them into the mountains. Xianglu Mountain was a hotbed of Miao uprisings since ancient times; they’d have their hands full.

Without hesitation, Yun Zheng mounted a sleek black horse, shining like a god of the night, poised like a shooting star ready to tear through the sky.

Ye Xi sat lightly atop a pure white horse, flawless as moonlight condensed—a nymph of the forest glade riding the unicorn-like Yuniks.

Side by side, they led the group forward.

Female clerk An Miaotong rode a blue sorrel horse behind them, her fair skin and supple waist accentuated by her white silk narrow-sleeved ruqun, overlaid with an embroidered collar robe. Her tortoiseshell and gem hairpin secured an elaborate coiffure wrapped in a wide red silk scarf that fluttered elegantly in the gallop.

Behind them followed the dignified retainers astride strong steeds, like seasoned wanderers of the martial world, full of heroic spirit.

Along the way, mountain winds howled, forest shadows danced.

The wild creatures of the mountains and woods, drawn by the sudden clamor, peeked out curiously at the unexpected visitors. But sensing the riders’ formidable aura, they respectfully withdrew to clear the path for these riders.