Chapter 993 – War at the Northern Border (Thirty)
The entire tribe surrendered just to retrieve Wu Libai’s corpse?
Upon hearing Li Yun’s words, the expressions of those in the tent were mixed—some were indifferent, some showed pity, and others were deeply moved.
Though Wu Libai was their enemy, the fact that there were still people who cherished his memory after his death meant that he hadn’t lived in vain.
Jiang Pengji gazed at Li Yun and asked flatly, “Is that all they want?”
Li Yun cupped his fists and replied, “That is indeed their only condition.”
At first, Li Yun thought this small tribe was trying to take a futile stand, but seeing the families—the men, women, elderly, and even babies in swaddles—he sent someone to negotiate and find out their purpose. Upon hearing their request, he was left stunned.
It was not unusual for a tribe to surrender, but the reason for their surrender was what set this apart.
In that moment, Li Yun felt a twinge of envy towards Wu Libai—if he were to face a similar downfall, would anyone be willing to risk everything just to reclaim his remains?
“Lord, should we agree to this matter?”
Seeing Jiang Pengji silent for a long time, Li Yun couldn’t help but probe further.
Jiang Pengji replied solemnly, “Let’s agree. Have someone retrieve Wu Libai’s body respectfully and prepare a decent coffin to send to them.”
To her, Wu Libai was merely an obstacle she had kicked aside.
For the Northern Border herders, however, Wu Libai was likely a hero or even a belief, someone worth any sacrifice.
This also showed that Wu Libai was worthy of respect; since someone was willing to protect his remains, what harm would it do to agree?
As she thought about this, Jiang Pengji suddenly recalled the Ninth Prince.
“They didn’t say anything about how to handle the Ninth Prince’s remains?”
Li Yun rummaged through his memory, then said with certainty, “They didn’t mention the Ninth Prince.”
“Forget it. A buy one get one free deal—let’s send the Ninth Prince’s corpse as part of the arrangement too. As for how they deal with it, that’s their business.” A trace of mocking smile appeared on Jiang Pengji’s face; that Ninth Prince really was a failure in life.
“Yes, I’ll take care of it.” Li Yun cupped his fists and stepped back, his armor clinking as he moved.
As Li Yun left, the audience woke up from this little interlude.
【The sky is full of little white clouds】: Old Wu really didn’t die in vain—there’s even a tribe willing to surrender for him?
【Seaweed soup】: Though Old Wu died brutally, the fact that people remembered his goodness after his death means his life wasn’t a failure.
【Deep-fried little fish】: …Tsk, you guys are really sentimental. Don’t think too positively about this. Maybe this tribe just happened to be on the streamer’s march? You’d have to be pretty dense to think about how the streamer is viewed in the Northern Border; they must consider her a ruthless butcher, instilling fear in the common people. But the common folk, in order to survive and protect their families, might have surrendered willingly…
【My mouse is broken again】: Sigh, am I the only one who feels sorry for the Ninth Prince? A dignified Northern Border prince living worse than the subjects.
The audience lamented, with some sighing that Wu Libai had sent off fittingly, while others pitied the Ninth Prince’s quiet end. Some reminded Jiang Pengji to be wary of Northern Border deceit, while others continued to just watch the show, filling the livestream with lively chatter.
With so many viewers and comments buzzing, Jiang Pengji frequently had to block notifications.
Li Yun instructed his subordinates to prepare Wu Libai’s body, clean off the blood, change into fresh clothes, and place it in a black coffin.
As for the already decaying body of the Ninth Prince, Li Yun also had people clean it up to be sent over.
The herders of the small tribe saw the coffin and one by one, they cradled their heads in mourning, their sobs heavy with unspeakable grief.
After crying enough, the tribal leader approached to surrender, and the herders behind him performed the Northern Border’s submissive rituals.
“Has the Lord thought about how to settle these people?”
This tribe wasn’t large, with just over ten thousand in total, but there were still about five thousand able-bodied men.
If they were left in the main camp, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t turn against them at the last moment, potentially aligning with the Northern Border, making them a threat.
Rather than leaving them on the battlefield to become hidden risks, it was better to send them back in batches to Chongzhou and other places.
Jiang Pengji considered this factor, saying, “Let Wen Zheng handle this. These people surrendered willingly, so they shouldn’t be treated like ordinary prisoners. Here’s what we’ll do: have them registered, and send them back in units of a household.”
“That’s fine, to prevent any hiccups along the way.” Qi Guanrang frowned, “How about this? Let them return with the grain convoy to Chongzhou.”
In order to ensure the safety of the grain transport routes, the routes were different for the round trips.
Letting these herders return with the grain convoy not only avoided exposing the transport routes but also reduced the need for extra manpower.
Before the tribe chose to surrender, they had prepared for the worst, but now they were being told they were just being sent to the Central Plains.
Everyone exchanged glances, their taut nerves finally relaxing, even the Northern Border women holding children secretly shedding tears of joy.
They cautiously arranged Wu Libai’s remains, managing to hold a relatively decent funeral.
Aside from this little interruption, Jiang Pengji’s army advanced steadily, sweeping northward along the Chuan River.
The Northern Border was vast, its overall area only slightly smaller than Dongqing, but most of its land wasn’t suitable for habitation, resulting in a sparse population—only about one-tenth of that in Dongqing. The total population was less than two million, making it rather rare.
The casualties from the war at Chuan River and the toll from flooding surpassed one hundred fifty thousand.
When accounting for the population of those captured by Jiang Pengji and those who surrendered, the total casualties for the Northern Border approached two hundred thousand.
This staggering number was painfully glaring, piercing the hearts of Northern Border nobility, making them wince at the thought.
Faced with the advancing enemy, the Northern Border tribes thought differently, but in the face of disaster, they had to come together.
Yet even as they formed an alliance, discord simmered beneath the surface.
On the day of the Chuan River flood, Wu Libai held the rear, while the Eldest Prince and the Third Prince fled with the main force, tallying up to less than ten thousand troops. Even though some remnants returned later on, their numbers were only about fifteen thousand, most of whom were disabled.
They had no supplies or rations, and their fighting strength was minimal, placing them at the bottom of Northern Border standards.
When the major forces of Northern Border gathered, they found themselves with no negotiation power, relegating them to minor players instead.
The Third Prince, under the support of Wu Libai’s followers, became Dai Wang, but this Dai Wang lacked the recognition of others.
Faced with the pressing enemy, their first thoughts were not on how to fend off the attack but rather squabbling over selecting a replacement Dai Wang.
Watching the heated argument among those in the tent, the Eldest Prince’s expression darkened, while the Third Prince looked as if he was about to cry.
