Chapter 1150 – Defeating Xu Pei, the First Kill of the Lords (Part 20)
Yang Si squinted, barely able to make out Jiang Pengji approaching against the light.
He grimaced, using his uninjured hand to push himself up from the stone beneath him. Nong Qin noticed and helped him steady himself.
“Criminal Yang Si, pays respects to the Lord.”
Yang Si took a few steps closer, and Jiang Pengji was already riding up, nimbly dismounting and lifting Yang Si with one hand.
“What criminal nonsense?” Jiang Pengji furrowed her brows, her gaze locked on the white cloth tied around his shoulder. Due to Yang Si’s sudden movements, the recently-stopped wound burst open, oozing fresh blood that spread into a crimson hue.
Yang Si’s face paled as he shamefully said, “I— the criminal, mismanaged the command, resulting in the deaths of thousands of soldiers at Guxu…”
Jiang Pengji was expecting something grave, but this wasn’t really his fault.
Even a thousand foolish thoughts can yield one wise action; a thousand wise thoughts can still lead to one significant mistake.
Yang Si was a human, not the Heavenly Brain—
No, even the Heavenly Brain makes mistakes—what more a mere mortal?
At the end of the day, this wasn’t Yang Si’s fault; the enemy simply outplayed him.
He was just there to take the blame.
“Where are there battles without deaths?”
Thousands of elite troops perished here, and Jiang Pengji felt heartache, but that was no excuse to recklessly pass the buck and evade responsibility.
Yang Si’s lips quivered for a moment, the bloodshot eyes shining with tears, making those nearby feel a pang of sorrow.
“About this matter, you’ve already done your utmost to contend with the enemy and even saved a large portion of our forces. What reason do I have to blame you?” Jiang Pengji said helplessly. “If it weighs on your heart, then focus on recuperating. You’ve taken a hit from Han Yu, make sure to get your revenge next time.”
Yang Si managed to minimize the damage, saving over six thousand of the elite troops.
Most casualties occurred in the Guxu Valley; under such circumstances, managing to extract some people—who could say Yang Si didn’t accomplish anything?
Jiang Pengji turned her gaze to Qin Gong, asking, “Why isn’t the medic treating your serious wounds?”
Medical science was rudimentary in ancient times; in her era, missing limbs could regrow in moments, but not here.
Although Qin Gong wasn’t missing limbs, his wounds were still terrifying, with a long gash across his face.
Suddenly addressed by Jiang Pengji, Qin Gong snapped back to reality.
“L-Lord—”
Qin Gong called out, still dazed and at a loss for words.
Jiang Pengji calmly stated, “Let’s talk about everything later. First, Qin Gong, please attend to your wounds, or you’ll lose too much blood.”
Qin Gong braced for a scolding storm, only to receive warm concern instead, leaving him flabbergasted.
Having grown accustomed to Xu Fei’s capricious style, Qin Gong was mentally prepared for any backlash.
No matter the reasons, losing nearly forty percent of the troops was undeniable.
If the Lord blew up and punished him with military law, he would have no complaints.
Fortunately, Jiang Pengji wasn’t privy to Qin Gong’s thoughts; if she did, she’d probably roll her eyes.
Was she a leader who acted without discernment?
“Lord, I suggested that Gong Liao lead the remnants to withdraw first,” Yang Si said slowly as he sat back on the boulder, suppressing the pain from his wounds. “Gong Liao still doesn’t know you led the reinforcements; should we send a messenger to summon him back?”
Jiang Pengji joked, “Of course; otherwise, it wouldn’t do if Gong Liao wandered into the enemy’s lair by mistake.”
Right then, Jiang Pengji sent a messenger to retrieve Cheng Yuan.
Confused initially, Cheng Yuan asked the messenger three or four times before accepting the stroke of luck.
Typically composed, he suddenly felt overwhelmed, his face a mix of joy and tears.
“Bless the Lord—bless our army—”
After the euphoric moment, Cheng Yuan promptly inquired about Yang Si and Qin Gong’s conditions, nearly crying with joy upon confirming they were alive.
He quickly organized the troops to return along the original route.
When fleeing, his heart felt as heavy as a mountain, smothered by various negative emotions.
When heading out, Cheng Yuan wished he had fire wheels glued to his feet, zooming past in a flash.
Galloping on horseback, his sleeves whipped in the wind, and his hair ribbon fluttered wildly.
When he arrived with the troops, a simple campsite was already set up, with pots bubbling over campfires.
The smell of food wafted into everyone’s nostrils, making their stomachs rumble thunderously.
The surviving soldiers were starved, carelessly reaching to eat the freshly cooked rice.
The scalding rice tumbled in their mouths, making them shiver from the heat.
Their tongues burnt red, they couldn’t bear to spit it out and instead gulped it down hastily.
That heat rolled down their throats, both scorching and comforting, bringing satisfaction, with many already shedding hot tears as they sobbed into their bowls.
Some anxiously grabbed rice with their hands, crying and laughing at the same time.
These past days, they sustained themselves with water and wild herbs; if hunger struck, they’d tighten their belts, and many had already starved to the point of seeing stars.
Yang Si felt the same, but he stumbled upon a rather awkward, embarrassing predicament.
His entire right arm was tightly wrapped and hung across his chest, while he struggled to use chopsticks with his left hand.
He was fine with large pieces, but for the small ones, he couldn’t pick them up at all.
“Ah—curse my luck for not being Zixiao!” Yang Si envied a bit and dejectedly put down his chopsticks. Wei Ci was nimble with both hands; he could write with his left hand just as well as with his right, handling documents with equal skill—skills ordinary folks couldn’t learn.
Just as he pondered, a wooden soup spoon appeared before him.
“Thank you, Jiang Yu!”
Yang Si was somewhat taken aback.
This female officer usually radiated an unapproachable coolness, only acknowledging the Lord and no one else.
Yang Si had always hesitated to engage someone like her.
For her to lower herself to fetch him a spoon was akin to the sun rising from the west.
“No need to thank me; it’s inconvenient for the military adviser to use chopsticks, lest they appear unrefined before the Lord—”
Yang Si: “…”
Haha, the sun indeed rises from the east today. This distant officer couldn’t stop mentioning the Lord in three sentences.
Yang Si couldn’t help but mutter, and the keen-eared Nong Qin faintly caught her own name.
“Military adviser?”
Yang Si cleared his throat, scooping soup with the spoon and avoiding Nong Qin’s gaze.
But Jiang Pengji heard what Yang Si said.
Her gaze swept over Nong Qin, her face unyielding as a mountain, while her mind pondered.
Meanwhile, as Jiang Pengji savored her meal, the startled audience peeked out, and the blank screen finally displayed a few scattered bullet comments.
【Shen Jia】: May I ask—can I send bullet comments now?
【That One Season】: Um, should be okay now, right?
The spectators from both dimensions cried inwardly like a storm. Even separated by a dimension, the menacing aura made them shiver with fear.
While watching the livestream, they often felt that Jiang Pengji might suddenly roar and slice through the screen with a knife to take them out.
