Chapter 1502 – Striking Nie Liang, Attacking Yang Tao, Sword Pointing to the World (Part 41)
Wei Ying sneered, “If the Northern Chen royal family were truly favored by heaven, how could they end up with no place to be buried?”
When Northern Chen fell, more than ten imperial tombs of their emperors were dug up and smashed by furious Common People. The corpses within were dragged out and whipped, and various burial goods were snatched clean. Aside from the escape of Huang Song’s branch, the rest had no good endings. Was this considered divine favor? The tales of gods and spirits were merely conjured up by those foolish Common People to scare themselves.
As Wei Ying convinced himself, he also tried to persuade others. Nie Liang remained silent for a long time after hearing this.
With a mocking smile, he replied coldly, “No matter what witchcraft Liu Xi employed to stage this, her purpose has been achieved.”
The morale of Nie’s army had almost shattered, the Soldiers merely knew to turn and flee, colliding with each other, trampling one another, creating complete chaos, devoid of any order.
This led to minimal enemy casualties; they lost forty thousand men. Forty thousand dead with hardly any proper resistance, akin to lambs awaiting slaughter— the enemies merely needed to repeat their sword strokes. At the thought of this, Nie Liang’s already pale complexion turned even grimmer.
“Report—”
At this moment, the voice of the messenger broke the silence within the tent.
Wei Ying dared not let Nie Liang directly see the battle reports, fearing another piece of bad news would worsen Nie Liang’s health.
“Just take a look, then tell me.”
Nie Liang understood his gaze, revealing a weak smile at the corner of his lips; it was less a show of trust toward Wei Ying and more an effort to soothe him.
Due to his own deteriorating body, Wei Ying was already frightened.
Wei Ying took the confidential report and examined it closely, while others secretly stole glances at his expression to guess whether it bore good or bad news.
Upon seeing Wei Ying’s furrowed brow and the knuckles whitening from stress, they knew it was bad news—definitely bad news.
Nie Liang sighed and extended a hand, signaling Wei Ying to pass the report to him.
Regardless of whether it was good or bad, he had to know.
“Lord/Leader—” Wei Ying hesitated for the first time, his actions bordering on insolence, “This news—”
He struggled with his words. Nie Liang didn’t press him, stating, “If you won’t show it to me, then relay it; could it possibly be even worse news?”
Wei Ying took a deep breath, his eyes reddening.
“Liu Xi dispatched her general Fu Wang to attack Yang Tao. Soon, someone claiming to be a Mountain Spirit came forth, offering shipbuilding divine techniques.”
They were already under immense pressure; the entire army was anxious and afraid to oppose the destined Child of Heaven, and now a “Mountain Spirit descending to bestow shipbuilding divine techniques” added insult to injury for Nie Liang and the others, but—this wasn’t the end of it.
Nie Liang gripped the mat beneath him tightly, trying to suppress the agony surging in his chest, veins throbbing on his forehead.
After a pause, everyone noticed his eyes widening, appearing as if his eyeballs might pop out—extremely frightening.
“What else? This can’t be all, right? What else is there? Just say it; am I going to die from anger over her antics?”
Nie Liang knew his dear friend all too well.
If it were just this tidbit of bad news, he wouldn’t have reddened eyes.
“Lord/Leader…” Wei Ying’s lips moved for a long while, as if hesitating, but eventually he said, choking on his words, “The report says… a divine being entered a dream, informing Liu Xi… informing Liu Xi that our Lord’s lifespan is insufficient… that it’s nothing to worry about…”
A person’s lifespan is measured in twelve years per cycle and a hundred days per calculation.
Nie Liang’s eyes widened, resembling a fish gasping for air, his chest heaving rapidly, spitting out a mouthful of dark red blood.
The onlookers were too frightened to speak, and Wei Ying and Nie Qing rushed forward to support him, only to be brushed aside by Nie Liang with a single hand.
Nie Liang’s strength was so great; it was as if he weren’t gravely ill, though many worried it was merely a flash of his former vigor.
Brushing them aside, Nie Liang suddenly threw his head back and laughed, pointing at the tent’s ceiling, his voice hoarse as he shouted, “What dead old heaven! If fate is predetermined, it would have snatched my lifespan away by now! Man determines destiny; even if it’s Liu Xi, so what! What can she do!”
With a trembling body, Nie Liang stood up, a hint of madness glinting between his brows, sending chills down others’ spines.
Wei Ying watched his friend this way, a heartache he could barely contain.
He still remembered the scene from their first encounter, the unmatched elegance, the noble demeanor, dressed in a dark scholar’s robe with a thin outer garment, donning a lacquered silk cap with a slight smile that felt approachable yet distant… the epitome of a noble offspring.
And now—
How had he transformed into this withered, crazed figure?
As he pondered, he heard Nie Qing let out a cry, akin to a cuckoo weeping blood, tightening his heart.
Looking up, Wei Ying saw Nie Qing dart forward, catching the lifeless, pale Nie Liang as he fell backward.
Wei Ying stared unblinkingly, the surrounding chaotic noises gradually fading from his ears, each call of “Lord/Leader” sounding like a faint echo from another world… Nie Qing weeping for his father, colleagues crying on the ground…
What on earth happened?
How could this be?
Wei Ying’s knees buckled, collapsing to the ground.
A night passed, and the Scouts Jiang Pengji sent out discovered the Nie camp draped in mourning cloth, everyone wearing expressions of sorrow, quickly relaying the news back.
Jiang Pengji was in the midst of breakfast, today’s meal consisted of meat buns mixed with minced meat, a total of fifteen, each the size of a robust man’s fist. An average man would be stuffed after three; yet Jiang Pengji devoured all fifteen, washed down with three large bowls of seaweed soup sprinkled with shrimp.
Unceremoniously letting out a loud belch, Jiang Pengji patted her flat belly and picked up a Napkin to wipe her mouth.
“Well then, what news comes next?”
Jiang Pengji despised having military news before or after meals; good news was fine, but bad news ruined her appetite.
The Soldier reported, “Last night at the third watch, Nie Liang passed away. The Nie camp is in mourning, draped in white, raising white banners overnight.”
Jiang Pengji froze upon hearing the news.
“Isn’t it so—Nie Guangshan weak? This brother left way too fast, as if hurrying to meet his demise…”
The comment set the live stream ablaze, and Jiang Pengji hurriedly shoved her dining table aside, calling for everyone to convene.
The crowd exchanged glances; while they had anticipated Nie Liang’s departure for some time, it felt surreal now that it had actually happened.
This brother just up and died?
In the corner, listening intently, Feng Yi and Sun Lan whispered to each other— dying was one thing, but to die from anger?
Well, this was going to be fun; their Lord’s vengeful demeanor would be forever etched in history.
Remembering their Lord’s words and actions recorded not long ago, Feng Yi felt certain their Lord would be blackened beyond recognition by future generations.
Wei Ci asked, “Did Nie’s camp truly raise white banners, the entire army in mourning?”
Jiang Pengji replied, “Zixiao says so; are you questioning its authenticity?”
Wei Ci couldn’t be sure. Nie Liang was indeed cunning, but his health clearly couldn’t withstand repeated crushing blows.
Thus, Wei Ci stated, “It’s not so much doubt; it’s just that with Nie Liang’s demise, we ought to send someone to pay our respects.”
Jiang Pengji: “…”
Zixiao, are you serious?
You might end up dead!
