The Prisoner of Beauty - Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Wei Liang led two thousand light cavalry at a rapid pace. Following the reports from the scouts previously dispatched by Gongsun Yang, they tracked the narrow paths taken by Chen Xiang’s daughter and her bridal procession. A few days later, they discovered the convoy north of Liyang. Because the procession was weighed down by ten thousand hu of grain and extensive baggage, the supply wagons were unable to move quickly. Although they had set out early, they had not even covered half the distance by now. Wei Liang led his men into an ambush in a mountain hollow ahead. As soon as the convoy entered the pass, a clash of gongs and drums signaled the trap, and the hidden troops emerged from both ends, shouting battle cries as they surged forward. High Commander Gao Shun, who had been ordered by Chen Xiang to escort the procession, was struck with shock. Hastily raising his halberd, he bellowed a demand to know who the interlopers were. With a roar of "Your granddaddy has arrived!" Wei Liang spurred his horse forward, swinging his massive broadsword. Gao Shun hurriedly raised his halberd to parry, but he was no match for Wei Liang; within a mere three exchanges, he was severed from his horse and slain. The deputy generals riding alongside saw Wei Liang’s sheer ferocity and found themselves completely surrounded by dense ranks of soldiers. Overcome with terror, they offered only a couple of feigned strikes before each spurred his horse to break through and flee. The remaining foot soldiers had no will left to resist; in the blink of an eye, their formation collapsed into utter disarray as they scattered and fled in all directions.

Wei Liang's purpose on this mission was not to slaughter the enemy, nor did he give chase. He ordered his men to gather the grain and supply wagons together, then stepped up to fling open the curtains of a fragrant carriage in the center. Inside, he saw a young woman huddled in the corner, shivering violently. Her face had already lost all its color, and when she saw Wei Liang poke his head inside—his hair a wild, disheveled mess—she let out a sharp shriek and swooned on the spot. This sudden fainting spell gave Wei Liang quite a start. He then noticed the two maidservants beside her, their faces the color of ash as they knelt on the floor, knocking their heads against the ground to beg for mercy.

Wei Liang knew that the woman who had fainted from fright was indeed Chen Xiang’s daughter. He ordered the soldiers to escort the carriage along with the rest, and with forces clearing the way at the front and rear, they altered their course toward Yangzhou. Within a few days they reached Huainan and stationed themselves at Xiacai. A scout returned to report that Yang Xin had dispatched his personal envoy, Song Xian, to welcome them. Courteous and deferential, Song Xian invited Wei Liang and his troops to enter the city. Wei Liang declined, ordering his soldiers to pitch camp outside the city walls to await further commands. He issued strict orders forbidding any soldier from approaching the tent of Chen Xiang’s daughter, setting up day and night patrols in shifts.

This Yang Xin had a long-standing feud with Xue Tai. In their previous confrontations, they had been evenly matched, each tasting victory and defeat, and they had remained in a bitter stalemate for the past two years. A few days prior, Wei Shao’s envoy, Zhang Yong, had arrived unexpectedly, presenting a letter written in Wei Shao's own hand that clearly stated his intentions.

Wei Shao’s power had grown immensely in the North, and his fame resonated throughout the realm, drawing heroes from all over to pledge their allegiance. Yang Xin had long heard of this, though they had never had any direct dealings. Now, he suddenly found himself faced with the envoy Zhang Yong, who had come to persuade him. Zhang Yong belonged originally to an eminent clan of Jiangdong; drawn by Wei Shao's renown, he had traveled to offer his services and was appointed Chief Clerk. He was exceptionally eloquent. Within a few remarks, he spoke with such persuasion that Yang Xin took him as a kindred spirit. Although Chen Xiang was powerful, Wei Shao stood in his path as a barrier, meaning Chen Xiang was nothing to fear. Launching an offensive against Xuzhou, which was currently left with a mere twenty thousand troops, carried an overwhelmingly high chance of victory. Furthermore, there was the grain, silk, and Northern steeds promised by Wei Shao.

The grain and silk were fine enough, but the one thousand Northern horses were the true prize. The Southern lands did not produce horses; to obtain a thousand Northern steeds would undoubtedly be like giving wings to a tiger. He granted his assent on the spot, sealing a blood covenant with Zhang Yong. That very evening, a grand banquet was arranged, and the following day, he mustered one hundred thousand troops, dividing them into three routes as they marched toward Xuzhou in majestic columns.

Xue Tai had deployed his troops to Yanzhou half a month ago. Along the way, they plundered the wealth of the populace, leaving neither chicken nor dog alive wherever they passed, inciting widespread grievances among the common people. By now, the grand army had arrived at Juye, a mere hundred li from Dongjun. A scout arrived to report that thirty li outside the city of Juye, the Grand Administrator of Dongjun, Qiao Ping, and his son had already drawn up their fifty thousand troops in formation, waiting to receive them. Xue Tai did not care in the slightest. Urging his grand army forward, he pressed on for a direct assault. The two armies clashed outside the walls of Juye. Xue Tai looked across to the opposite side and saw that at the center of the enemy's rounded formation, the leading white horse was ridden by a middle-aged general with the refined countenance of a scholar; he knew this to be Grand Administrator Qiao Ping. Beside him rode a small general upon a massive, date-red steed, adorned in a silver robe and holding double halberds. His eyes were like stars, and his features were extraordinarily handsome. Guessing that this must be Qiao Ping’s son, Xue Tai laughed uproariously: "It seems Yanzhou truly has no men left, that they would send out a little girl to face me in battle!"

The moment these words left his mouth, a chorus of mocking laughter erupted from all sides. Qiao Ci was young and hot-blooded; how could he endure such a humiliation? Disregarding Qiao Ping’s attempts to hold him back, he spurred his lone horse out of the formation, shouting curses at the old scoundrel Xue. Charging out from the opposite side came Xue Tai’s eighteen-year-old youngest son, Xue Liang—the very one intended to wed Chen Xiang’s daughter—who urged his horse forward with leveled spear to meet the challenge. The two sides crossed mounts in the open clearing between the formations. The soldiers on both sides raised deafening shouts as a vicious struggle ensued. After several dozen exchanges, Qiao Ci unseated Xue Liang from his horse. Xue Liang desperately scrambled to flee back to his own lines, but Qiao Ci, his eyes shot with crimson, gave chase. Hurling his blade, he pierced Xue Liang through the center of his back, and Xue Liang collapsed to the ground, dead.

Qiao Ping watched the state of the battle from the rear, filled with immense tension. His eldest brother had already dispatched an envoy to Yuyang to implore rescue troops, but to this day no response had come, and not a single soldier from Wei Shao had arrived. Having learned a few days ago that Xue Tai’s grand army was drawing near, Qiao Ping personally led his forces to draw up their lines at Juye, prepared to fight to the death. His only son was not yet of age, and Qiao Ping had originally been unwilling to let him join the vanguard, ordering him to remain behind to guard the city. However, though Yanzhou could assemble fifty thousand troops, they could find few capable generals to anchor the lines. Qiao Ci had stubbornly insisted on joining the vanguard, leaving Qiao Ping with no alternative. He also reflected that if Dongjun were lost, it would be like a overturned nest—and when the nest is overturned, how can any eggs remain unbroken? In the end, he had gritted his teeth and allowed his son to join him on the battlefield. Moments ago, seeing that his son could not endure the provocation and had charged forth to duel Xue Liang, ultimately slaying him beneath his horse, Qiao Ping finally breathed a sigh of relief. He hastily ordered his men to sound the gongs to recall him to the formation.

On the other side, before the main battle had even commenced, Xue Tai saw his own flesh and blood perish before the lines, dying at the hands of a green youth who still reeked of his mother's milk. He was struck with both shock and grief. Consumed by rage, how could he possibly let this pass? He immediately ordered his two trusted grand generals to charge out and slay Qiao Ci. The generals Cao Xu and Zhang Biao received their orders and spurred their horses out side-by-side, enveloping Qiao Ci within a ring of mounts in the blink of an eye.

Although Qiao Ci was a newborn calf with the courage of a young hero, he was, after all, not yet of age and had experienced few battles. Cao Xu and Zhang Biao, by contrast, were veteran generals of Xuzhou, long accustomed to charging and breaking enemy lines. Facing two opponents as a lone warrior, how could Qiao Ci hold his ground? With a single lapse in vigilance, his left arm was slashed by a blade, and fresh blood began to flow in streams.

Seeing his son's retreat cut off and his body wounded, Qiao Ping was frantic with anxiety. He immediately prepared to personally lead two generals forward to reinforce him, but it was too late. Before they could reach the front lines, they heard Cao Xu bellow: "Ignorant child, I shall avenge the young master!" Qiao Ping watched helplessly as the long spear in Cao Xu's hand thrust directly toward Qiao Ci’s chest. Qiao Ci’s double halberds were currently locked against the heavy blade brought down by Zhang Biao, leaving him unable to evade. Just as his blood was about to splatter upon the field, a lone horseman suddenly appeared on the barren wilds between the two armies, tearing forward like a bolt of lightning. In the blink of an eye, the rider reached the front of the lines. The individual wore a conical bamboo hat, and placing a finger to his lips, he let out a piercingly sharp whistle toward the three horses tangled together ahead. As if hearing a demonic melody, the three mounts neighed in unison and reared their front hooves wildly, violently throwing Cao Xu, Zhang Biao, and Qiao Ci—who were locked in combat—right off their backs.

The mounts of Cao Xu and Zhang Biao were fine Dayuan steeds that had been ridden for a long time, and Qiao Ci’s mount had been raised by him since it was a colt. No one could have anticipated that a single whistle from this stranger would cause the horses to buck their masters to the ground. The three men tumbled down, rolling into a heap. The stranger drove his horse forward, reaching them in an instant. Leaning down, he grabbed Qiao Ci by the arm, hauled him onto his mount, and turned back to sprint toward Qiao Ping. Arriving before Qiao Ping’s horse, he pushed Qiao Ci down. Qiao Ci landed, finding his footing, but he remained thoroughly shaken, unable to react for the moment.

Qiao Ping had originally believed his son was fated to bleed out on the field; he had never dreamed in his wildest imaginings that at the critical threshold between life and death, this hidden guest in a bamboo hat would strike out like this to save his son's life. His surprise, joy, and gratitude required no elaboration. Recognizing that this person did not belong to either army, he looked closer and saw that the bamboo hat was pressed very low, obscuring the stranger's forehead and eyes, though he appeared to be no older than his early twenties. Cupping his hands in gratitude, Qiao Ping said: "My profound thanks to you, benefactor, for rescuing my son! Before the two battle lines, there is no leisure to properly express my gratitude, but I pray you leave your name, so that I may heavily reward you in the future!"

Standing on the ground, Qiao Ci happened to catch a clear glimpse of the man’s eyes beneath the bamboo hat. One of the pupils was a distinct emerald green. He suddenly felt he had seen it somewhere before; it seemed somewhat familiar, though he could not recall where at that moment. Amid his daze, Xue Tai on the opposite side had already beaten the drums to command a general advance. With no time for further reflection, Qiao Ci hastily let out a sharp whistle to recall his own mount, vaulting onto it to meet the enemy. In an instant, the two armies locked in a chaotic slaughter. Qiao Ping was well-versed in military texts and regularly disciplined his troops; he now exerted every effort to direct his battle formations. Yet he lacked capable generals at his side, and his troop strength was only half that of his opponent. Their position was gradually compressed, forcing them to fight while retreating. Suddenly, the roar of cannon fire erupted from both the left and right flanks as ten thousand additional troops from each of Xue Tai’s wings pressed down upon them. The formation of the Yanzhou soldiers was instantly shattered into pieces, incurring countless casualties. Qiao Ping knew in his heart that if they continued to fight, his fifty thousand troops would be entirely annihilated here. He wished to sound the gongs to retreat into the city to regroup for the future, but their lines were already in chaos; if he suddenly sounded the retreat now, the situation would likely become even more uncontrollable. As he struggled to hold the line, he was startled to see the bamboo-hatted guest from earlier cleave through two of Xue Tai’s soldiers who had surrounded him. Holding his blade horizontally, the man let out a massive roar that rumbled like thunder. The dozens of soldiers nearest to him showed looks of pure terror, actually integration to draw close. Watching him carve a bloody path through the ranks, the stranger spurred his horse right before Qiao Ping and shouted fiercely: "My Lord, sound the gongs immediately and retreat into the city! Any later and your entire army will be annihilated! I shall hold them off for you here for the time being!"

Qiao Ping felt a shiver run through him.

This young man who had appeared from nowhere, though dressed in simple garments and looking like an ordinary person, possessed the imposing majesty of a god of war descended from the heavens amidst the chaos of thousands of horses and soldiers, commanding obedience from others naturally. Qiao Ping immediately turned his horse, preparing to recall his troops. Suddenly, he heard the sound of gongs echoing first from Xue Tai’s own formation. Looking across in astonishment, he saw that some unexpected incident seemed to have occurred within the enemy lines. Atop his mount, Xue Tai’s face was flush with fury as he pointed at the sky and cursed obscenely. He urgently commanded his officers to withdraw their forces, and harboring deep resentment, he retreated with his son's corpse, moving swiftly back toward Xuzhou in the southeast.

The outskirts of Juye, which moments ago had been a battlefield of blinding slaughter, grew quiet as banners were lowered and drums fell silent. Qiao Ping felt as though he had survived a brush with death, still unable to fully believe what had happened, wondering why Xue Tai had suddenly withdrawn his troops when he held such a clear advantage. At this moment, he could not afford to dwell on it. He gave orders to clear the battlefield first and transport the fallen and wounded soldiers into the city. Catching his breath slightly, he suddenly remembered the guest in the bamboo hat from earlier. He hastily searched all around, but where was there any trace of his presence?

...

Qiao Ci gave hot pursuit along the path, chasing him for dozens of li. Seeing that he could not shake his pursuer, the man ahead finally halted his horse by the roadside.

Qiao Ci’s face was stained with blood and filth, and the scab over the wound on his arm had not yet set, still slowly leaking blood. His eyes, however, shone with intense brightness. Catching up in a single breath, he reined in his horse, drew his blade, and pointed it at the other man, shouting loudly: "I recognize you! Your green eye! Was it you who abducted my eldest sister? Where is she now? What have you done to her?"

Bi Zhi slowly tilted back his bamboo hat: "She and I have already wed as husband and wife. Rest your mind, Young Master; I will do everything within my power to treat her well. Your wounds are not light, Young Master; it is best you return early to tend to them."

Qiao Ci’s eyes went wide, displaying a look of utter disbelief.

Bi Zhi offered him a slight nod, then immediately urged his horse forward, galloping away in an instant. His silhouette vanished at the far end of the wild path.

Qiao Ci remained frozen in place.

When Da Qiao had initially eloped with Bi Zhi, the Qiao family had kept the matter strictly concealed, so even Qiao Ci was not entirely clear on the details, having only caught faint rumors that it was connected to Bi Zhi, the family horse slave. Therefore, the moment the battle concluded, he had locked his sights onto Bi Zhi, chasing him all the way here in a single breath.

He had never imagined that his cousin, Da Qiao, would actually marry him. And from the man's tone, it seemed Da Qiao had done so entirely of her own free will.

Qiao Ci could not fathom how such a thing could happen.

He found it impossible to accept for the moment. Standing there in a daze for a brief period, he suddenly recalled how, just as his life was about to be forfeited beneath the blade moments ago, it was this very man who had descended as if from the heavens to save him. Before the two battle lines, he had displayed such astonishing valor; his martial prowess was greater than anything Qiao Ci had ever witnessed in his life.

What kind of man was this, truly?

Qiao Ci found himself completely bewildered.

...

Following Wei Shao's departure with the army, the household felt as though it had lost its central pillar in the absence of a man, and the Wei estate suddenly became quiet and deserted.

Aside from the moments she spent face-to-face with Lady Zhu each day, which were somewhat trying, Xiao Qiao found her remaining time to be quite free. However, she remained anxious over the military situation in Yanzhou, spending her days in a state of suspense. Fortunately, over half a month after Wei Shao’s departure, news finally arrived. It was said that while Xue Tai was attacking Dongjun, he suddenly received word that Xuzhou was being assaulted by Yang Xin of Huainan, prompting him to immediately withdraw his troops to rescue his home territory. The two sides engaged in a massive battle at Jiulishan near Liucheng. Xue Tai suffered a devastating defeat, losing numerous officers and soldiers along with countless rations and supply wagons. In the end, he retreated to Xuzhou in a wretched state, closing the gates and refusing to emerge. His core strength was heavily depleted; for the short term, he would likely be incapable of launching any further offensives.

The anxiety that had hung over Xiao Qiao's heart for many days was finally put to rest. Returning to her room, she was just preparing to write a family letter to her father, Qiao Ping, when word arrived from the northern wing stating that Madame Xu requested her presence.

Xiao Qiao immediately set down her brush, changed her garments, and proceeded to the northern wing. To her surprise, she found Wei Yan there as well, kneeling beside Madame Xu, appearing to have just concluded their conversation. Wei Yan bowed to Madame Xu, descended from the couch, and turned around, encountering Xiao Qiao face-to-face. His gaze lingered on her face for a brief moment.

Whenever Wei Shao led his troops on a campaign away from home, he always entrusted the critical responsibility of Youzhou's defense to Wei Yan. Encountering him here at this moment was nothing unusual.

Xiao Qiao dropped her eyes and greeted him, "Eldest Brother."

Wei Yan offered a slight nod, then turned back to Madame Xu, saying, "Your grandson shall take his leave now. Pray Grandmother make your preparations; your grandson will come to escort you early tomorrow morning."

Madame Xu nodded.

Wei Yan cast a glance at Xiao Qiao, then passed beside her as he departed.

Xiao Qiao stepped onto the couch, kneeling down at the lower position beside Madame Xu. She noticed several rolls of letter-silk placed upon the desk, appearing to have been delivered from various regions.

Madame Xu smiled and said, "Zhonglin has been away for over half a month now. Grandmother feared you would be anxious, so the moment news arrived, I wished to inform you first. The grand army reached Shiyi a few days ago, drilling troops, reinforcing the fortifications, and pitching camp. Everything is proceeding very smoothly."

Xiao Qiao suddenly felt a trace of guilt.

Over these past days, what she had been most anxious about was actually Yanzhou. As for Wei Shao's side, perhaps because he was sufficiently powerful and she knew he would surely return, she had actually seldom thought of him. She thus lowered her gaze and said, "I pray Husband secures a swift victory and returns early."

Madame Xu nodded, then added, "I have received another piece of news today. Tomorrow, I intend to set out for the Kingdom of Zhongshan to visit an old relative. I reflected that you have little to occupy yourself with at home, so it would be best for you to accompany me. I can introduce you to some people, and I shall have company on the road as well."

Xiao Qiao was somewhat surprised. She had not anticipated that they would suddenly be embarking on a long journey, and she did not know what purpose required Madame Xu to personally travel to the Kingdom of Zhongshan. However, since the elder had spoken, she naturally nodded in assent.

"Return and pack your things; we set out early tomorrow morning," Madame Xu said with a warm smile.