Chapter 46: Unhindered Righteousness (Special Thanks to Alliance Leader Fang Zhongwen)

That band of retreating soldiers numbered no more than eight or nine. Four of them were dragging a wooden plank, while the remaining four, clad in heavy armor and wielding sharp blades, anxiously scanned the mountain forests on either side, terrified that a pack of despicable bandits might burst out from within.

Despite their harrowing escape, these men remained fiercely loyal, carefully guarding the person laid upon the wooden plank. The man's right arm had been severed clean at the elbow, and his stern, weathered face was utterly drained of blood.

The moment they caught sight of Zhao Huai'an's vanguard, they instinctively shielded the wooden plank in their center. It wasn't until one of them recognized Han Tong among the troops that he finally lost control and burst into tears.

"Brother Han! It's me, Sun Silang!"

Han Tong, who had been standing alert with his blade drawn, froze for a moment. He peered closely at the speaker. Despite being covered in blood and filth, the man was indeed his old acquaintance Sun Silang. Han Tong pushed his way through the crowd and rushed forward.

Behind him, Qian Tiefei and Wei Jingang quickly hurried over as well.

As soon as they reached the group, they saw that the person on the wooden plank was none other than Sun Chuanxiu, Commander of the Baoyi Army. Outcries of grief erupted instantly.

Hearing the commotion, Zhao Huai'an jumped down from the donkey cart, flanked by the armored guards Sun Tai and Zhao Hu.

By the time Zhao Huai'an arrived, Sun Silang was already recounting their ordeal to Han Tong and the others. Seeing Zhao Huai'an approach, Sun Silang dropped straight to his knees, clutching Zhao Huai'an's leg.

"Master Zhao, you must seek justice for our Baoyi Army!"

Zhao Huai'an hurriedly pulled Sun Silang to his feet and stepped forward to check Sun Chuanxiu's injuries, only to see Han Tong suddenly draw his sword, grinding his teeth in fury as he hacked wildly at a roadside tree, cursing with every stroke:

"Yan Shihui! I swear I will chop you into a thousand pieces!"

After a quick assessment of Sun Chuanxiu's wounds, Zhao Huai'an had Zhao Liu fetch a gourd and fed Sun Chuanxiu a sip of water.

Revived by the water, Sun Chuanxiu regained consciousness. A look of momentary surprise crossed his pale face when he saw Zhao Huai'an, which soon melted into a bitter smile.

"Master Zhao, you and I truly share a bond..."

He wanted to say more, but a violent fit of coughing wracked his frame.

At that moment, Sun Silang tearfully propped Sun Chuanxiu up and began to pour out his grievances to Zhao Huai'an.

Through Sun Silang's tearful narration, Zhao Huai'an finally pieced together the catastrophe that had befallen the Baoyi Army and the Muyi Army.

In truth, the moment the Nanzhao forces had appeared on the upper reaches of the Baishu River and Yan Shihui had fled without a fight, Zhao Huai'an had already anticipated the grim fate awaiting the Baoyi and Muyi troops who had crossed the river.

Yet, hearing Sun Silang recount the details firsthand, Zhao Huai'an could not help but sigh at the sheer tragedy of it.

Nearly three thousand brave border youths—except for a small handful who managed to break through the encirclement—had perished to the last man on the southern bank.

These young men from the borders possessed inferior equipment and meager pay, and they were always assigned the most perilous duties. Yet they had fought with extraordinary valor, standing out as the sole battalion in the entire campaign to breach the opposing shore.

Yet such a loyal and righteous army had not fallen to the enemy's blades; instead, they had been slaughtered by internal backstabbing and political maneuvering.

When Sun Silang finished his tale, he let out a final, agonizing roar:

"Master Zhao, tell me why! Why was our army forced to cross the river first? Why were we left without reinforcements? Why did we suffer defeat without a fight? Are the lives of us Baoyi soldiers worth nothing? Wuwuwu..."

Sun Silang's words were as sorrowful as the crying of a cuckold bird spitting blood, filling all who heard them with deep grief and moving them to tears.

The surrounding local militia and defeated soldiers lowered their heads in heavy silence, mourning the fate of their peers as their own.

As Sun Silang's outburst subsided, Sun Chuanxiu weakly shook his head and spoke to Zhao Huai'an:

"Master Zhao, the moment I first met you, I knew you were extraordinary. When I saw that your ranks were filled with impoverished serfs and mountain dwellers, I felt even more strongly that you were different from the usual military men. In your eyes, it seemed everyone was treated as an equal. Now that my Baoyi Army has been completely annihilated, leaving only these eight loyal companions, I wish to entrust them to you. They are top-tier men of our army and will never bring shame to the name of Baoyi."

The moment Sun Chuanxiu finished speaking, Sun Silang and the others broke down once more, weeping bitterly. They all declared their wish to follow Sun Chuanxiu to the bitter end, swearing never to abandon him even in the underworld.

But Sun Chuanxiu gasped for breath and cursed them fiercely:

"Stop your nonsense! You must stay alive and carry on the bloodline of our Baoyi Army!"

Hearing this, the eight men dared not speak another word, reduced to silent, steady sobbing.

Having rebuked them, Sun Chuanxiu looked toward Han Tong and offered a bitter smile:

"Brother Han, I am sorry. I had originally intended to help you bring all your families out from the mountains. I have broken my promise this time."

At these words, Han Tong, a towering man of over seven feet, finally broke down completely, throwing his head back and weeping uncontrollably.

The rest of the former Baoyi soldiers within the ranks covered their faces and wept openly.

Gazing up at the blue sky, looking at Sun Silang and his men, and then at Han Tong and the others, Sun Chuanxiu finally turned his eyes to Zhao Huai'an:

"Master Zhao, this is all my fault. It was my unrealistic illusions regarding the Tang court... I thought of how hard life was for everyone in the mountains, and I believed there was a chance to return to the imperial fold. That was the dream of generations of the Baoyi Army. But I never realized that down here... the world devours men! It devours men alive!"

At this, the usually composed Sun Chuanxiu could no longer hold back and burst into heart-wrenching tears:

"It is I who have failed my brothers! I should never have let them cross the river. We should never have crossed."

With that, Sun Chuanxiu stared off into the distant mountain forest, as if catching sight of countless familiar faces. A faint smile touched his lips as he gathered every ounce of his remaining strength and roared:

"Lads of the Baoyi Army, Sun Chuanxiu is coming!"

"Coming!"

Having uttered these final words, Sun Chuanxiu exhausted his last breath and slumped heavily into Sun Silang's arms, his gaze empty yet filled with lingering resentment.

The moment Sun Chuanxiu breathed his last, one of the armored warriors beside him drew his blade to slit his own throat, but Sun Silang kicked him fiercely to the ground.

Carefully laying Sun Chuanxiu's body upon the wooden plank, Sun Silang strode over, delivered a resounding slap across the man's face, and roared:

"You will all stay alive! My older cousin said everyone must live, so you will all live! We will stay alive, and we will avenge him! We will avenge our Baoyi Army!"

With that, Sun Chuanwei drew his knife and slashed his own face, crying out to the remaining seven men:

"I, Sun Chuanwei, swear by the nine heavens of the gods: if I do not kill Yan Shihui, may I be reborn as a beast for nine lifetimes!"

Without hesitation, the remaining seven men slashed their own cheeks with their blades and roared in unison:

"If we do not kill Yan Shihui, we swear we shall no longer be men!"

Deeply moved, Zhao Huai'an witnessed for the first time the ancient tradition of vengeance sworn upon honor and faith—a spectacle he had never encountered in his previous life.

Having completed their oath, Sun Chuanwei and his men knelt before Zhao Huai'an, begging to be taken in.

Just as Zhao Huai'an was about to grant their request, Wang铎 nudged him from the side and lowered his voice to a whisper:

"There are too many eyes and ears here, my lord. Proceed with caution."

Zhao Huai'an instantly understood Wang铎's implication: Wang铎 did not trust the scattered, defeated soldiers within their ranks.

Now that Sun Silang and his eight companions had openly sworn a blood oath of vengeance, word would inevitably reach Yan Shihui. If Zhao Huai'an took these men in now, it would be tantamount to declaring open hostility against Yan Shihui.

Furthermore, Wang铎 had just reminded him of their precarious situation—with the Jiedushi of Kaoshan on the verge of collapse, picking a fight with the most powerful military faction in the province at such a juncture would be sheer folly.

Yet, hesitation lingered in Zhao Huai'an's heart for only a fleeting moment before he made up his mind.

He walked over to Sun Silang and the others, pulled them to their feet by their arms, and spoke with absolute resolve:

"You are the Baoyi Army, and my force is the Baoyi Garrison—we are family. From this day forward, consider this your home, and leave everything to me."

Deeply moved, and suddenly recalling his own lingering doubts and momentary hesitation, Sun Silang felt a pang of shame. He bowed deeply with his hands cupped, retrieved a folded military banner from his pouch, and solemnly handed it to Zhao Huai'an:

"Commander, this is the banner of our Baoyi Army. I entrust it to you."

Zhao Huai'an gazed at the neatly folded banner, stained dark with dried blood, nodded solemnly, and tucked it carefully into his pack.

He let out a heavy sigh, swept his gaze across the surrounding green mountains, and murmured softly:

"The green mountains are fortunate to bury loyal bones!"

...

The company buried Sun Chuanxiu. Sun Silang even carved a wooden arm with his blade to bury alongside Sun Chuanxiu's body.

With that solemn task done, the procession resumed its march.

As they continued forward, Zhao Huai'an kept his small drum beating to maintain morale. However, whether due to their approaching proximity to Anren or some other reason, they encountered very few stragglers along the road from then on.

On the contrary, the heavy supply carts in Zhao Huai'an's caravan eventually attracted the greedy eyes of a band of wandering deserters. In the end, Zhao Huai'an, wishing to avoid unnecessary trouble, used bow and crossbow fire to intimidate the predators, forcing them to back down.

Pressing on through their flight, aside from the occasional stray soldier or forest bandit, Zhao Huai'an's group met with no further incidents until they finally reached the banks of the Xiejiang River.

Much like the Baishu River, the Xiejiang River was largely dried up. While this made wading across easier, it rendered the heavy wagons impassable. After a difficult search, they finally found a shallow ford and exerted a tremendous effort to get the entire caravan across to the opposite bank.

After a grueling day of travel, the company finally arrived at Anren City by evening.

However, just as they intended to enter the city to rest for the night, they found Anren City engulfed in towering flames of war.

Hearing the frantic sounds of slaughter echoing throughout the city, Zhao Huai'an was seized with alarm, fearing that the Nanzhao army had outflanked them. Yet, just as he prepared to charge into the city gates, a troop of cavalry suddenly galloped out from the roadside.

At the head of the riders was none other than Ren Tong, the general from Baxian.

It turned out he had been dispatched by Xianyu Yue to wait here for Zhao Huai'an. His mission was to inform his sworn brother that the situation had drastically changed, and that he should not linger on the road but make haste back to Chengdu.

Ren Tong informed Zhao Huai'an that Military Governor Niu Cong had been utterly demoralized by the defeat at the Baishu River. He no longer trusted the eastern Sichuan troops, nor did he even trust the western Sichuan soldiers of his own domain.

The original strategy of mounting a defense in depth at Anren, Tang'an, and Shuangliu had been completely abandoned.

The Military Governor had already fled toward Chengdu, issuing a scorched-earth decree along the entire route—which explained the horrifying scene playing out before Zhao Huai'an now.

Hearing Ren Tong describe this as a scorched-earth policy, Zhao Huai'an fell silent. After a long moment, he finally asked:

"And you expect this to stop the Nanzhao army?"

But little did Zhao Huai'an expect Ren Tong's cynical reply:

"Master Zhao, this isn't any scorched-earth defense. Once you pass Tang'an, it's all fertile farmland filled with countless villages and communities. Even if you burn this place to the ground, those Nanzhao troops can easily forage for grain anywhere."

Ren Tong glanced around, noting the presence of a stranger like Wang铎, and lowered his voice to reveal the grim truth:

"The Military Governor's army was defeated, and he lacks the power to control the various garrisons. This is simply offering up several cities to them as plunder to restore army morale."

At that instant, a chilling draft swept through Zhao Huai'an, freezing him to the bone.

He finally, truly perceived the true colors of the Great Tang: a realm overflowing with unrighteous men, where nothing was practiced save for sordid and despicable deeds.