The Tyrant's Beloved Empress

42

As the cold winds wreaked havoc over the city, eight hundred soldiers marched in unison outside the city gates, waiting for Xiao Zhige to lead them to Yanzhou. These were Xiao Zhige's loyal soldiers that he had brought back to Yejing from Yanzhou. After three months of peaceful rest in the prosperous Yejing, they were all in high morale, ready for a fight.

An imperial announcement had also been made that the Northern Warlord would be marching back to Yanzhou to fight the Beidi people.

Wrapped in a fur coat, An Chang Qing craned his neck trying to look through the smoky dust in the distance. He touched the satchel that he was carrying. Inside were some clothes, dry food and wine that he had specially prepared for Xiao Zhige although, Xiao Zhige was probably already at the city gates, ready to depart.

An Chang Qing was worried that he might not have the chance to pass the satchel to him. He sighed and hugged the bag.

The uproar and galloping had attracted the attention of many. The Wang Manor's soup kitchen was located outside the city gates. In addition to handing out warm porridge every day, the shed was also equipped with a large fireplace with burning charcoal to provide temporary shelter for the people at night. Compared to most low-cost inns, many would prefer to gather at the shed at night. This also included the poor scholars from out of town.

As such, there were two distinct groups huddled at the shed – the scholars and the beggars.

An old beggar listened to the sound of trampling hooves and sighed, "Another battle is going to start. I heard that many in the north have died because of the snowstorm. I'm not sure if we can win this time."

"With the Northern Warlord's protection, those Beidi scums still have the guts to attack?"

"Hasn't the Northern Warlord been absent from the border?" someone whispered, "Those shameless barbarians must've taken advantage of this time to attack. If they manage to break through the city's defenses, countless lives will be lost."

The beggars discussed on one side as the scholars sat and listened. One of them couldn't help but laugh and spoke, "The Northern Warlord is not the only general in the whole of Da Ye, it's not solely dependent on him to secure the border. He's a ruthless general but you people treat him as though he's the benevolent Bodhisattva. What a bunch of ignorants!"

The scholar who had just spoken was dressed neatly in a gray cotton-padded robe and carried himself with pride as he looked at the beggars with disdain.

The beggars' eyes turned spiteful towards the scholar. The old beggar waved his hand to calm them. He then said to the scholar, "We beggars are illiterate but we still know that we shouldn't bite the hand that feeds us. This gongzi here is so displeased with the Northern Warlord but totally fine with accepting the goodwill of the Wang Manor?"

Whoever did not know that the soup kitchen was built by the Wang Manor? Moreover, the prices of grains and winter clothes had risen everywhere but only those of the Wang Manor's shops remained the same. Thanks to this, the other shops could not make any sales and were forced to lower their prices.

How the entire situation had played out, the people of Yejing had kept in their hearts. Although it was Wangfei who had managed the operations, everyone knew that it was the combined effort of Wangye and his Wangfei. Since then, no one had said a single bad thing about the Northern Warlord.

The rumors that used to circulate the streets had now been discredited. After all, no one had witnessed the Northern Warlord's brutality but many had been sheltered by the Wang Manor's goodwill. Anyone with a conscience would know that they shouldn't continue to say bad things about the Northern Warlord.