Xing Muzheng stopped the three who were eager to move. Slowly, he drew his longsword. “I will.”
Xing Pingchun shouted: “Father!”
Xing Muzheng’s gaze did not waver. “Watch closely.”
From a distance, his eyes locked with Hong Tai’s, both men gripping their weapons tight.
“Brother Hong, I will not trouble your family.” Xing Muzheng leveled his sword toward him.
Hong Tai bit down hard, a complicated look flashing across his face, gone in an instant. “Do not be arrogant, traitor. Who the deer falls to is yet unknown!”
With a thunderous shout, Hong Tai spurred his horse forward, spear leveled as he charged Xing Muzheng. Behind him, the war drums pounded, carrying a bleak finality. Xing Muzheng pressed his heels to his horse, which reared and neighed, then thundered forward without fear. The two clashed in the midst of the field, and in the blink of an eye, the outcome was decided.
Both their weapons dripped with blood.
Xing Muzheng shifted slightly. Hong Tai’s back was to him. “You’ve won. Don’t… look back.”
Blood slid down the tip of Xing Muzheng’s sword, falling to the ground.
Hong Tai toppled stiffly from his horse and lay still.
The brother who once had his back—now a ghost beneath his blade.
The armies stirred, drums booming in unison. With their commander slain, the punitive force was left headless, morale shattered. At the front was Hong Tai’s son. He had never fought alongside Xing Muzheng before, and seeing his father fall on the field, his eyes burned red. With a hoarse roar—“Kill!”—he charged forward first. The punitive army surged after him, but how could they compare to the battle-hardened troops under Xing Muzheng? In less than two hours, their force of six hundred thousand was utterly broken.
Sensing the moment, Xu Yizhao shouted, “Brothers, we are all sons of Great Xie! General Xing has no wish to shed blood among kin. Any who surrender, he will not pursue past wrongs!”
In Great Xie, there were few who had not heard Xing Muzheng’s name. Those who hadn’t were mostly conscripts forced into service. Hearing Xu Yizhao’s call, many were shaken. Just then, retreat drums beat from the other side—Xing Muzheng turned to see it was Huyang Wang’s warships.
Before this, Hong Tai had resolved on a final battle and had all the ships rowed away. Now, with retreat possible, the soldiers’ will collapsed completely. Many fled in panic, others threw down their weapons and surrendered to Xing Muzheng. Some, realizing they could not reach the ships and fearing death, also discarded their arms and knelt.
Thus ended the Battle of Li River.
Smoke and blood thickened the air. Xing Muzheng gazed at the mass of ships on the river, Huyang Wang gathering up retreating troops like a sparrow feeding at the rear. So, this man harbored ambition after all.
Xing Pingchun rode at his side—already a young general who had tasted battle. “Father, Huyang Wang has schemes! He wouldn’t come to fight, but he comes to collect the retreating soldiers!”
“Mm.” The first generation Huyang Wang had been the emperor’s great-uncle, a half-brother of the late emperor’s father. He had earned great merit with the founding ancestor and was granted prosperous Huyang as his fief. The current Huyang Wang was his legitimate second son, long known as a carefree idle lord, tending only to his own land. Yet now, it seemed far from so simple.
Ah Da spurred up and reported, “Marshal, we’ve taken in many more who surrendered!”
Xing Muzheng said, “Have the numbers tallied carefully, names recorded. Find General Hong’s body, give him a coffin burial, and send him back to his family.”
“…Yes.” Ah Da sneaked a look at Xing Muzheng’s face. As a close attendant, he knew the Marshal valued Hong Tai. Yet he saw no flicker of emotion there—and did not know whether to feel relieved or not.
“The vanguard general seemed to be Brother Hong’s son. Did he die?”
“This… your subordinate doesn’t know.”
“Find out. If he’s dead, send him back as well.” Xing Muzheng paused, as if to add something, but swallowed the words. Turning to Xing Pingchun, he said, “All aftermath matters will be in your hands.” With that, he wheeled his horse away.
Qian Jiaoniang had been waiting in the rear camp. At sunset, she finally heard the news of victory, and that Xing Muzheng and his son were safe. Only then did she breathe easy. Just as Suier urged her back into the tent, a sudden rush of hoofbeats came from outside—so close it seemed upon them. Qian Jiaoniang hurried out and nearly collided head-on with Xing Muzheng entering. Luckily, he had removed his armor, or her nose would have been flattened.
“You’re back—” Before she could finish, Xing Muzheng pulled her into a tight embrace.
Suier and the others quickly saluted, then slipped out. Without a word, Xing Muzheng carried Qian Jiaoniang to the bed, burying his head against her chest, silent for a long while.
She let him hold her, stroking his back gently.
At last, his hoarse voice came: “I killed Brother Hong with my own hand.”
Qian Jiaoniang sighed softly. “I’ll carry this sin with you. If you hadn’t, the three of us would all be dead.”
Xing Muzheng rubbed his head against her.
She tightened her arms around him. “I’m here. I’ll always stay by you. Yazheng, don’t grieve—I’m here.”
Murmuring, Xing Muzheng said, “Don’t leave me. Only you—don’t leave me.”
Qian Jiaoniang pressed a kiss to his forehead, her silent vow to him.
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