Chapter Thirty-Six: Memories Like Smoke

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On the broad official road stretching from Songzhou to Yanzhou in Henan, a long column of soldiers moved forward steadily. Their armor and weapons were fine and well-maintained, yet their clothes bore the dust of travel, and fatigue was hard to conceal on their faces.

Beneath the hanging canopies and with hooves stirring the fine sand, amidst the myriad troops rode a figure clad in a deep blue battle robe, exuding a solitary and pure aura. This was none other than the renowned “Qilian Snow Clearing,” the military governor of Taining—Commander Qi Kejiang.

The horse was a fine one, though aged. Like the jade reins and golden saddle it bore—exquisitely crafted yet etched with the wear of time.

The old horse’s unhurried, steady pace brought Qi Kejiang a sense of calm and comfort, as if it were a long-time companion.

In the battle at Songzhou, despite his utmost effort to prevent the government forces from annihilation, the war was lost. The once unbeaten legend among the four great generals of the Tang Dynasty was shattered. Over half the supplies were lost, and Qi Kejiang had no choice but to lead the defeated troops back to his garrison in Taining, Yanzhou.

Qi Kejiang paid little heed to the worldly praise or blame. Such was the nature of the battlefield—whether victory or defeat, the familiar faces around him grew fewer with each passing day.

Lost in thought, Qi Kejiang took from a hidden fold in his robe a folded sheet of oil-paper.

It was a keepsake left to him long ago by Kou Qianzhi.

Kou Qianzhi had once said that a warrior on the battlefield inevitably faces sudden misfortune. If fate were to befall him, Qi Kejiang was to unfold this paper.

His slender, trembling fingers traced the faded yellowed page, revealing a few lines of bold, upright script, strong and resolute as pine trees:

“As a soldier of the nation, it is one’s duty to lay down life on the battlefield. Commander Qi need not seek vengeance for me. If you sit alone outside Yanzhou city at night and hear the wind among countless pines, or the urgent rain tapping on your window, then that shall mean I have come to see you.”

“Qianzhi, this is truly you.” Qi Kejiang sighed deeply, sorrow piercing his soul. His fierce eyes, which seldom shed tears, seemed blurred by dust and sand, revealing a wistful bitterness hard to define.

Longing was like tracing back a river of time; years washed away vivid memories until only shadows remained, yet the persistent remembrance and bittersweet feelings for his homeland and comrades would never fade.

Life in this vast world is fleeting, like a traveler on a distant journey. Many who depart never return.

Qi Kejiang’s thoughts turned to other departed friends.

Fame and honor are like a crossroads, and every choice begins at the intersection…

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“If the siege of Songzhou drags on too long, the city will likely face famine…” Zhu Wen spoke with concern to Huang Chao.

After all, Songzhou was his native land.

Moreover, the brutal siege during the Anshi Rebellion a century ago—marked by cannibalism—had left an indelible, terrifying scar on the people of Songzhou.

“We won’t besiege it for long,” Huang Chao lifted his chin calmly. “Our soldiers are already weary of war and want to end the campaign at Songzhou quickly.”

“So…” Zhu Wen asked, “Master only wishes to use the fear in people’s hearts?”

Huang Chao nodded. “Songzhou is one of the wealthiest cities in the Tang Empire, and more fearful of siege than any other. The bitter memory of the siege of Suiyang makes the city’s officials and gentry prone to compromise.”

Zhu Wen understood Huang Chao’s strategy.

Huang Chao intended to exploit the terror left by the Anshi Rebellion siege a century ago, to instill fear in the hearts of Songzhou’s officials and gentry. Then, through that fear, compel them to gather wealth and hand it over to the rebel army in exchange for their withdrawal.

The rebel troops fought mobile warfare; even if they took cities, they could not hold them long. Capturing cities and lands served mainly to acquire supplies.

“Liangyu, I know your worries,” Huang Chao perceived Zhu Wen’s unease. “As you see, this war has caused little damage to your hometown. Both I and the allied leader are striving to maintain military discipline. Besides, we are the victors.”

Zhu Wen knew well that defeated armies often lose discipline and wreak havoc on civilians. History showed that fleeing soldiers burned, plundered, and destroyed everything in their path.

They had lost their faith and no longer cared for winning hearts and minds.

“By the way, although the four great generals of the Tang are said to come from the same family, they are rivals,” Huang Chao spread a detailed map of the Ten Circuits of the Tang Empire on the table. “Now that Qi Kejiang has been defeated, the other three might soon make their move. Liangyu, who do you think is the most likely?”

Without hesitation, Zhu Wen answered, “Flame Commander.”

Huang Chao nodded approvingly. “That woman has spent most of these years near Luoyang, supposedly guarding the palaces and mausoleums from the rebel fires.”

Zhu Wen said, “But the truth is, she’s just waiting to see Song Wei’s embarrassment.”

Huang Chao replied, “Now that not only Song Wei but also her junior brother Qi Kejiang have been routed, it is certainly the perfect time for Flame Commander to act.”

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Zhu Wen continued, “If our forces surround Songzhou, and she can lift the siege, it will surely demonstrate her prowess.”

At this, Huang Chao suddenly laughed heartily, slapping the table so hard the map bounced.

Zhu Wen knew well why Huang Chao laughed.

“But Qi Kejiang, to implement his strategy, breached the embankment of the Northern Bian River, releasing its waters,” Huang Chao said, still quite pleased.

Zhu Wen added, “Flame Commander’s troops, after departing Luoyang and passing through Hulao Pass, could have sailed downstream along the Northern Bian River from Bianzhou.”

“But now, they cannot.”

Zhu Wen echoed Huang Chao’s point, finding the situation somewhat amusing.

When Qi Kejiang breached the embankment, he evidently did not anticipate such consequences. And if the rebel army does not withdraw from Songzhou, the court would likely be too afraid to send anyone to repair the dike.

But this does not mean the siege of Songzhou is foolproof.

Both Zhu Wen and Huang Chao knew that defeating “Snow Commander” Qi Kejiang did not guarantee victory against “Flame Commander.” She was presently the most formidable and vexing figure in the Tang Empire.

Even if she did not personally intervene, she might incite other forces to act.

A few days later, Zhu Wen quickly received confirmation.

Qin Yan, the young deputy leader of the Bamboo Flower Gang, who had recently turned from foe to ally, galloped breathlessly into Huang Chao’s camp, urgently requesting reinforcements.

“Commander Huang, General Zhu Wen, trouble! Our siege lines on that front are under fierce assault from an unknown elite force coming from due south.”

Qin Yan gestured wildly, trying to convey the intensity of the assault, “They have... cavalry riding mules, even fiercer than regular horse riders.”

Earth Immortals—also called corpses or deluded ones—were said to be monsters resurrected from the dead beneath the earth, appearing red, green, or other colors, all sharing the trait of biting humans.

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