DIDKNWGEWAFEM

Chapter 40: Marquis Pingbei

It was another new day, and the Xirong outside the city gate, after a night of renovations, were once again becoming active. They’re also quite arrogant, not having the slightest bit of worry towards the army of the Central Plains, as they set up camp in an area no less than ten li away. They likely know that these Central Plainsmen wouldn’t dare to act too rashly.

And that was true. Even Zhongli Luo’s father, Zhongli Qing, had never dealt with such a large-scale Xirong attack at the former Marquis Zhenguo’s side way back when, let alone the youths of today.

Zhongli Luo was dressed in battle armor as she went to check the situation over from a tower in the city gate. The soldiers who serve her are fortunate, as they knew that this Major General was fearsome and had cut down countless Xirong before, being even stronger than their mascot Grand Marshal Prince. Everyone felt a bit calmer when she was keeping watch and wouldn’t completely lose their spirits. Were that morale to dissipate, the city wouldn’t be far from falling, too.

The Xirong haven’t managed to beat their way in, yet they look just like they’re determined to do so and victory is right in their grasp.

These barbaric nomads have always been like this, forever pillaging and plundering as they fight. Such behavior is completely shameful yet very effective, as it provided ample food, treasures, and a heap of Han women for them to play around with.

Facing such bull-headed foes gives Zhongli Luo a massive headache.

The last time the Xirong had gotten into the South was fifty years ago, and the citizens who had gone through it were now very old. That written history of blood and tears seeming so far away from everyone when, in reality, it was so very close, had every individual on edge. They wanted to flee before the Xirong broke in, but they can only think of doing so without actually being able to. The state is recruiting troops from everywhere, dispatching them squad by squad to the Northwestern battlefield.

While everyone else is panicking, Rong Jiahui appears to be inexplicably calm. All she did was sit around in her room all day, bored to death as she embroidered flowers. Today, it’s Chinese roses, and tomorrow, it’ll be peonies. By the time Zhongli Luo gets back, she’ll probably be able to open a store.

She also read a few books with all her idle time. The last time the Xirong went South is already considered an event from the previous Dynasty. The Emperor of that vanquished state was a major idiot and ill-suited for the position. Well… he wasn’t really stupid, he was just too hasty. He tried in vain to do things in his limited lifespan that would take hundreds of years to do properly, letting the people suffer unspeakable hardships, and in the end, he still earned a reputation for being ruthless, leading to the establishment of the current Dynasty. There was likely also some contribution from the mess the Xirong made.

There’s not a thing she can do regarding the war. Since she’s returned, she’s started to catch up with people. Yang Qianyu’s husband who only knew how to spew pretty words, the Blest Prince, had been dispatched to act as the Grand Marshal of the Realm [1] and boost morale in the Northwest. According to her words, after the Prince received the imperial order, his face went white with fright, and he wasn’t very quick on the road there.

However, the new Emperor understood that there’s currently no one in the court who is genuinely qualified for that position. At least this young uncle of his is – apart from being good-looking – outstandingly self-aware, obedient, and not likely to stir up trouble.

Rong Jiaze is right at the age of sixteen, and it’s right time for him to start yearning to go to the battlefield to chop off heads and sprinkle blood everywhere and thinking of rushing off to the frontlines all day long. The slap his dad gave him nearly called forth his death. Rong Chen had always believed that a daughter was a treasure to be held in the palm of one’s hand and cherished while a son was merely a tool to be used to carry on one’s family line, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t dote on that son at all. How could he allow him to go and throw his life away?