Chapter Fifty-Four: A Letter

Late in spring, the imperial court dispatched Liu Sanyuan, the Supreme Commander in charge of suppressing the rebels, to Xishan County.

At the same time, public notices were posted everywhere, inviting heroes from all corners to join the campaign against the traitors. Anyone who distinguished themselves would be rewarded with an official post, the court promising not to withhold honors or positions.

Of course, the price was steep: these so-called “righteous armies” had to bring their own provisions and equipment and submit themselves to the court’s command.

In addition, wealthy families who contributed grain and money would also receive honorary titles or official ranks from the court. Though these positions carried no real power, they came with special privileges—not least of which was the right to be pardoned for minor crimes and to have sentences reduced for major offenses.

In plain words, it was the buying and selling of official titles.

Such measures would, naturally, attract much criticism, but there was little choice. Was Xishan County the only region ravaged by disaster last year?

Many places had been unable to pay taxes, and now, with the need to suppress a rebellion, manpower might be plentiful, but money and food were in dire shortage.

Even if they wanted to squeeze the common folk further, the people had nothing left to give.

The great disaster had only just passed, the new crops had yet to ripen, and now the court had to muster forces to strike at the rebels and overawe any would-be usurpers. The pressure on the court was immense.

After much deliberation, it was clear that the only option was to bleed the wealthy, but those families were neither fools nor powerless commoners. Without genuine rewards, why would they comply?

Even if it meant drinking poison to quench one’s thirst, it had to be done.

As a result, Liu Sanyuan, tasked with quelling the uprising, was also under enormous pressure. The court was urging him to achieve a swift victory, yet there was hardly a single good report to send back.

Despite the burden, Liu Sanyuan restrained the imperial army, not daring to act rashly.

One need only hear the name “Xishan County” to know it was a mountainous region.

If the rebels hid themselves in some remote mountain hollow, it would be impossible to eradicate them by mere encirclement.

This was no flat plain where one could see for miles and battles could be fought or pursuits made with decisive clarity, with nowhere for the enemy to hide.

To mobilize troops rashly would only exhaust the people’s strength; the rebels, seeing the imperial army approach, could simply retreat into the mountains.

The forests stretched endlessly; once someone entered, finding them was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

The only hope was to first discover the rebels’ main base and, ideally, lay an ambush in advance to win a decisive victory.

Of course, the court did have some leverage.

Rebels were still human, and humans needed to eat.

There was hardly enough food in the mountains to sustain them, so the rebels would inevitably have to send out parties to raid supplies, or else they would starve.

The wisest course was to maintain strict vigilance everywhere, guard against raids, and send out numerous scouts and spies—ideally, to follow the raiding parties back to their lair.

As for the main army, it was best to keep it still, moving only to set up ambushes in key locations to deal with any rebel forces that might appear.

This was a prudent and steady strategy—secure and advantageous!

Would the rebels really try to outlast the court?

Did they not know what it meant for a land to be vast and abundant, or that even a dying camel is bigger than a horse?

The only drawback was that this approach worked slowly; it took time, which did not suit the court’s desires.

You might be right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!

From late spring to autumn, Liu Sanyuan bore the mounting pressure for nearly half a year, until finally, under the weight of an imperial edict, he could hold out no longer.

The Emperor ordered him to find a way to wipe out the rebels before winter, at the very latest by year’s end.

At the same time, the imperial court buzzed with accusations against him, charges of inaction, and even claims he was deliberately harboring the rebels!

Otherwise, how could the imperial army have done so little for half a year? Was he sent there for a holiday?

The day he received the edict, Liu Sanyuan stormed about his room, cursing.

“A bunch of useless drunkards and gluttons! It’s already autumn, and with only about a month until the harvest, the rebels—starved for half a year under my blockade—are sure to act soon. If they don’t, they’ll starve to death!”

He had used the least taxing method to contain them, preventing their numbers from swelling, perhaps even sowing discord among them. Yet now, this became the reason for his impeachment?

It’s not the gods you should fear, but the fools at your side!

But…

There was nothing to be done.

A military order was as unyielding as a mountain.

He could refuse to act, but he could not disobey.

So, after autumn set in, the army Liu Sanyuan had long kept in check finally began to move, though their actions were tentative. Scouring every mountain and ravine was out of the question—the cost in manpower and time was more than he or the court could bear.

Instead, he stationed troops in several strategic locations where the rebels were known to pass, and greatly increased the number of scouts and spies, determined to uncover the rebels’ whereabouts as quickly as possible—a clear posture of seeking a swift resolution.

In the vast forests, Ji Wu lay prone in the underbrush, clothed in leaves, holding his breath and steadying his mind as a small group of rebels passed before him, not even a flicker of his brow betraying his presence.

He had been lurking in the mountains for over a month, his rations long since exhausted.

Hungry, he foraged for fruit; thirsty, he drank dew. He endured the wind and slept beneath the open sky.

In the space of a single month, he had become ragged and unkempt, his face obscured by a scraggly beard—gone was any sign of youthful vigor, save for the brilliance that still shone in his eyes.

“This is the sixth patrol to pass by… This must be a rebel stronghold. But is the leader, the so-called Chief of Sin, here?”

Ji Wu chewed on a leaf, its bitterness sharpening his focus.

Skill breeds courage, and so, instead of following the main force step by step, he and Xiong Ba had plunged deep into the mountains on their own.

What merit could there be in trailing behind the main army?

To achieve great things, effort was required.

If greatness could be attained by lying idle, why would Master Xu have chosen him?

Since he had accepted Master Xu’s request, he could not let this year pass in vain. He had to accomplish something before Master Xu’s next descent into the world.

Only then could he prove himself worthy of Master Xu’s trust.

So, he would find the rebels’ main base—better yet, he would find the Chief of Sin himself!

Yet this was no ordinary foe: moving his men from place to place, maintaining tight security—this was a rare opportunity that could not be missed.

Time slipped by. Ji Wu crept cautiously closer to the enemy’s main camp, moving with utmost care. Only when the night was at its deepest and torches blazed all around did he finally reach the outer perimeter.

He had no intention of playing the hero who takes the enemy general’s head from the midst of a thousand troops. Perhaps if he called Xiong Ba from his distant hiding place, they might even pull it off.

But that was not what he desired.

Even if he slew the Chief of Sin, he would only leave the rebels leaderless—benefiting the court, true, but he had no wish to serve the court’s interests.

If he was going to act, it must be something grand.

As night deepened, Ji Wu rose, drawing the bow he had prepared long before. He tied a strip of cloth to the arrow.

“Whoosh!”

The arrow whistled through the air, landing in the enemy camp and throwing it into chaos.

Without looking back, Ji Wu turned and melted into the forest.

Chief of Sin… Let me see if you truly possess such courage!