Chapter 239: Hello Chang’an
Chapter 239: I Am What I Am, and So Is a Woman
Xu Zhengye’s patience was wearing thin. He wanted to take Hezhou in one strike, so besides Ge Zong, he also ordered another capable subordinate, Ji Xi, to go into battle together.
Ge Zong took the military token and left the camp, full of confidence, as if the battle had already been won.
Seeing Luo Guanlin emerge, he deliberately slowed his steps, sneering: “Relying only on a woman’s virtuous words, how could one possibly help the General capture a city?”
Luo Guanlin’s expression darkened slightly but he did not respond.
Ge Zong persisted: “Master Luo, you speak highly of Chang Kuo repeatedly—could it be that you are old acquaintances?”
He clicked his tongue, “It’s a pity that Chang Kuo is merely a stumbling block. The General has grand ambitions and a far-reaching vision, and I fear he cannot honor the bonds of your old friendship.”
“But no matter!” He patted Luo Guanlin’s shoulder as he stepped forward. “Once I bring back Chang Kuo’s head to the camp today, you can finally reunite with your old friend!”
He laughed loudly, feeling quite amused.
Luo Guanlin, however, did not get angry; he smiled lightly and said calmly: “It seems General Ge is aware of his own shortcomings, and fears that if the General gains a capable officer like Chang Kuo, he himself will no longer have a place in the army.”
Ge Zong’s smile instantly froze, his face darkening.
“Having self-awareness is fine, but being so jealous is no way to last,” Luo Guanlin continued, “no wonder even the General said that day…” He paused subtly, shook his head, and did not continue. Instead, he exchanged a knowing smile with a colleague nearby.
“…” Ge Zong’s expression flickered. General? What did the General say about me?
He wanted to ask, but Luo Guanlin had already left. Ge Zong considered following but feared it would make him appear impatient. With the battle imminent, he had no time to debate, so he left, frowning and scratching at his head.
“…Brother Luo’s words are sharper than any blade,” a colleague walking beside Luo Guanlin commented. “He’s about to lead troops into battle, yet he engages in such talk. I fear on the battlefield, he will still be mulling over these words.”
Even while striking enemies, he might be thinking—what exactly did the General say to Luo Guanlin? When others attack him, will he ponder whether Luo Guanlin has secretly sown discord, wondering if the General would turn against him?
He might even review all his past mistakes under the General’s command hundreds of times, punishing himself mentally.
The more he thought, the more he marveled: “Indeed, those who have served as Censors… each and every one has sharp tongues and dark hearts.”
Luo Guanlin merely sneered coldly: “If he’s unsettled in his mind, even if he loses, it’s not my fault.”
His colleague lowered his voice: “Brother Luo… do you really not want him to win this battle?”
Luo Guanlin did not answer, his expression growing more complex. After walking ten more steps, he finally asked slowly: “Zhongqin, do you think the General has changed much?”
His colleague’s teasing expression faded. She sighed lightly, but said nothing.
“I keep thinking of those days in Jiangdu, drinking and talking freely…” Luo Guanlin’s tone carried a hint of nostalgia.
Back then, he had been demoted and exiled from the capital, miserable and frustrated. Meeting Xu Zhengye and his companions had lifted his spirits.
They had conversed happily, sharing disdain for the current regime. Often, after drinking, they would vent about the chaos in the court, considering each other kindred spirits.
In short, the wine of those days made him giddy.
Equally intoxicating was Xu Zhengye’s constant “late to meet you, my worthy brother,” full of closeness and camaraderie.
The visions of future success and glory painted by Xu Zhengye dazzled him.
So he willingly followed him, giving his all—planning, strategizing, persuading. The “proclamations to the world” and other declarations were all crafted by him, breaking several pens in the process. The independent-minded scholars were mostly convinced and recruited by him, his lips raw from all the persuasion.
Now, under the General, the voices of generals and advisors were growing louder, and the General, careful not to show favoritism, had long stopped calling him “worthy brother.”
The relationship with the General had become nothing more than that of lord and subordinate.
And with people like Ge Zong, who frequently argued or gave unwelcome advice, the General now often overlooked him during deliberations.
For example, earlier in the tent, the man who once called him “worthy brother” now raised a hand impatiently, signaling him to stop speaking.
It was hard not to feel a sense of loss.
“I understand your feelings, Brother Luo…” the colleague sighed. “It’s like being a first wife, watching her husband rise and take concubines, each with their schemes, flattering him. Yet he is like Chen Shimei, seeing no trace of his original wife…”
Luo Guanlin’s face darkened. “…Don’t speak nonsense!”
Ridiculous—he was not that jealous kind of person!
He frowned. What concerned him was whether that person was still the same confidant he once regarded as a kindred spirit.
“I understand…” his colleague sighed. “But now you’re on this path, there’s no turning back. Worrying too much is useless; focus on the future.”
This was the high emotional intelligence way of saying: the rice is already cooked; don’t fuss over it. Run, and you’re doomed.
Luo Guanlin fell silent, though his chest felt increasingly heavy.
At this moment, horns blared and war drums sounded across the training grounds.
Luo Guanlin paused, turning to look toward the grounds.
The General had already confirmed that in Hezhou, only the 10,000 troops Chang Kuo brought could defend the city… this battle could not be won.
Ge Zong, eager to avenge past humiliation, having failed to capture the city before, would not spare the enemy or the civilians this time.
Most of the soldiers were untrained, accustomed to plundering after a conquest… all tacitly permitted by the General.
Luo Guanlin disagreed strongly, repeatedly proposing stricter discipline, but the General replied that these soldiers had been forcibly recruited. Without giving them spoils of war, morale would falter, and the battle would be lost.
In other words, this tacit approval was bait Xu Zhengye used to motivate his troops.
Facing that unflinching gaze, Luo Guanlin felt a thousand words lodged in his throat, unspeakable.
What had the civilians done wrong? They had done nothing, yet were the sacrifices for this “great cause,” allowed to be plundered and oppressed?
As he looked back on the places they had passed, refugees lay everywhere, cries of grievance filling the air…
The General had comforted him: to achieve a great cause, sacrifices must be made; break to build, and once the cause succeeded, order would be restored.
Will it get better? He wondered. For now, everything seemed only to worsen, and by their hand.
He opposed women ruling and hated the injustices of the Empress, eagerly hoping someone would correct the course and restore legitimacy. Meeting Xu Zhengye, he thought he had found that person.
Yet now, ignoring Xu Zhengye’s disregard for civilian lives, he even began to doubt whether Xu Zhengye truly intended to support the Crown Prince and the Li family dynasty as promised.
Had he chosen wrongly? Had he trusted the wrong person?
The weight of that question was almost unbearable, and he dared not ponder further.
The war drums roared, the army moved swiftly from the camp. From afar, it looked like a long serpent, like a fierce beast moving across heaven and earth—fierce, sharp-toothed, hunting its prey.
…
The enemy arrived quickly, but Hezhou had been on alert for days and could quickly muster troops.
…
Scouts reported: the enemy numbered 100,000, led by Ge Zong and Ji Xi.
“…100,000 is fine, we have 50,000! One kills two, no problem!” a broad-shouldered, armored man shouted, raising his blade.
Another boasted: “I can kill three!”
The less confident relaxed: “I’ll kill one… you kill one, and later I’ll send you a basket of eggs from my farm.”
Laughter echoed among the newly recruit soldiers, many of whom were ordinary civilians just days ago.
But Hezhou had fostered a spirit of united defense; with the enemy at the gates, no one faltered.
Chang Kuo mounted first.
Chang Suining also mounted, glancing at Yun Hui, who tensed at the mention of Ji Xi. She said: “Let’s go, avenge them.”
Both the Prefect Yun and Yun family heir had died at Ji Xi’s hands.
Yun Hui tightened his lips, nodded to her, and followed, heading toward the city gates.
On the way, he suddenly asked Suining: “Do you think we can win?”
Suining did not look away: “Maybe.”
Yun Hui gripped the reins: “And… do you think we’ll die?”
Suining replied casually: “Perhaps.”
Yun Hui wanted to sigh: “…Why not say something lucky?”
Suining finally turned to look at him: “And why don’t you ask something lucky?”
Meeting her gaze, Yun Hui felt guilty. True—what had he even asked?
Approaching the city gates, he asked a less ominous question:
“…Are you really a woman?”
Though he already knew the answer, the shock persisted, and he felt compelled to ask.
Suining: “Is that important?”
Yun Hui was silent. “True, not important… I’ve just never seen a woman like you, so…”
“What should a woman look like?” the young girl asked casually, looking ahead. “All beings are diverse; a woman does not need to fit a mold. People should not grow according to a mold.”
She said: “It’s not about what the so-called mold of a woman looks like, I am what I am, and so is a woman. Everyone should take themselves as the standard.”
“I am such,” she glanced back: “They are too.”
Yun Hui instinctively looked back and saw his mother, with a thousand-strong line of women behind her.
They wore similar armor, hair tied tightly, weapons in hand.
Three days ago, a woman known for her toughness began sewing armor with others, but it never fit. She frowned, tried the armor herself, saw it in the water, and everything clicked. She ran to the Prefect’s office to enlist.
Those responsible for recruitment told her to go home; she refused. More people joined, and word reached Yun Hui.
The woman claimed she could both fight and manage.
Her martial prowess? Ten years of labor—lifting manure, chopping wood, feeding pigs, disciplining children and men—had made her strong; not using it to fight was wasteful.
Her intellectual skill? She never lost a shouting match with neighbors, and could curse enemies on the battlefield, driving weaker troops mad.
Yun Hui was at a loss. He had never seen such a capable and literate woman.
When men warned her of the dangers of battle, she straightened her back—she had survived childbirth, what was there to fear? If you live, you’ll die eventually. Every kill added to her chances.
When others tried to dissuade her, Suining intervened. She accepted the woman under her command.
Thus, the thousand-strong “women’s army” was born.
Trained by Suining, they all knew the young trainer was a girl, giving them more confidence.
Now, they followed Yun’s mother, in neat ranks, exuding military discipline.
The defending army completed their preparations quickly, ready for battle.
Ge Zong approached swiftly. Fueled by a desire for revenge, he demanded to duel Chang Kuo: “General Chang, do you dare to face me one-on-one?”
“Are you a basket of dung needing our General Chang to challenge you?” an armored woman on the tower shouted. “Even without a mirror, there’s urine. Look at yourself—do you really deserve it?”
Chang Kuo was impressed—a master, enjoying being insulted, lucky indeed.
With her spat words, she said “Huh, phooey,” sending it in a projectile straight at Ge Zong’s upturned face.
Ge Zong wiped his face, furious.
A woman! How unlucky! He hated women who defied norms, seeking to overturn the world. He despised women in general!
His desire to duel vanished. Chang Kuo never intended to accept—people like this lacked martial virtue. If he jumped from the tower, they would swarm and pierce him. Who could he complain to?
Ge Zong ordered the attack. Seeing Chang Kuo raise his hand, Yun Hui also commanded: “Release the arrows!”
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