Volume One, Chapter 11: The Unyielding God of War—The Fish Takes the Bait

Early spring in Chang’an remained bitterly cold, the north wind whipping fine grains of sand against the tents of the military camp, producing a constant rustling sound.

Inside General Zhang Ji’s command tent, the charcoal brazier blazed brightly but could not dispel the heavy atmosphere within.

“A report! General Li Jue has sent a messenger outside the camp with urgent orders!” came the voice of a bodyguard from outside the tent.

Zhang Ji exchanged a glance with Fan Chou; a shadow of unease flickered in both their eyes.

“Let him in,” Zhang Ji said in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously brushing the hilt of his sword at his waist.

The messenger strode into the tent with his chin held high, eyes brimming with condescending arrogance. “Generals Zhang and Fan, General Li commands you to immediately gather your troops and return to Chang’an to campaign against the allied forces of Ma Teng and Han Sui!”

Silence fell over the tent, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire.

Fan Chou narrowed his eyes, curling his lips into a cold sneer. “Oh? Why such sudden orders from General Li?”

The messenger shot him a disdainful glance. “The Ma-Han alliance has been harassing Chang’an frequently, sending daily insults and provocations. General Li believes they must be taught a lesson. Pray tell, General Fan, do you take General Li lightly?”

Zhang Ji restrained the about-to-erupt Fan Chou with a calm yet chilling voice. “Messenger, you have traveled far—thank you for your efforts. However, our supplies are not yet fully prepared, and the soldiers’ equipment has yet to be replaced. We will need some time to ready ourselves.”

“General Li said the army must depart within three days at the latest!” the messenger declared decisively, his finger nearly poking Zhang Ji’s nose. “Do the two generals not respect General Li’s authority?”

Fan Chou suddenly rose, knocking the table so it wobbled; a wine cup tipped over, spilling pale yellow liquid across the sheepskin map. “You—”

Zhang Ji grasped Fan Chou’s arm firmly, causing him to frown. “The messenger misunderstands. We will begin preparations immediately.” Turning to the tent entrance, he called out, “Someone, escort the messenger to rest and treat him well!”

After the messenger left, Fan Chou shook off Zhang Ji’s hold. “Brother, why did you stop me? That scoundrel’s arrogance is blatant—this is clearly an insult from Li Jue!”

Zhang Ji walked to the tent flap, ensuring no one was eavesdropping before lowering his voice. “Jia Wenhe was right—Li Jue and Guo Si truly see us as thorns in their side.” His eyes gleamed coldly. “Since they show no mercy, we shall not be bound by righteousness.”

Fan Chou clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. “Then what shall we do...?”

“Follow Jia Xu’s plan and buy time first.” Zhang Ji pulled a sealed letter from his bosom. “Jia Wenhe said the emperor has already made arrangements; we must watch and wait.”

Three days later, the messenger stormed into the tent, furious. “Three days have passed! Why has the army not marched? Are you not afraid of General Li’s wrath?”

Zhang Ji wore a look of apology. “I’m truly sorry. There were problems with the delivery of supplies. Please grant us a few more days...”

“Nonsense!” the messenger cursed loudly. “I think you’re deliberately defying orders! General Li said if there’s any more delay, military law will be enforced!”

Fan Chou stood in the shadows, a flash of murderous intent in his eyes, but Zhang Ji’s glance stopped him.

At the same moment, a peculiar guest arrived at the “Drunken Immortal Tavern” in Chang’an’s East Market.

He was a towering man, nine feet tall, two short spears hanging at his waist. Sitting alone in a corner, he drank heavily.

When the barkeeper approached to refill his cup, he noticed five deep finger dents pressed into the table.

“Sir…” the barkeeper began, only to be glared at fiercely—those eyes glowed with a beastly red light, forcing him to retreat three steps.

Upstairs in a private room, the incognito Emperor Liu Xie observed the scene below.

Suddenly, sounds of fighting erupted.

Seven of Li Jue’s bodyguards lay sprawled on the ground, while the burly, bearded man stood with one foot on a fallen soldier’s chest, sneering, “Is this all the skill worthy of these skins?”

Yang Zaixing triggered the “Unyielding War God” effect: Strength +2, current 100.

By the time Zheng Sen and the Imperial Guards arrived, Yang Zaixing’s twin spears pressed to the throat of the last enemy soldier.

From a street corner came the voice of Yue Fei:

“Zaixing! Stop!”

The towering warrior shuddered, his spears clattering to the ground. He turned toward the white-robed general, tears glistening in his fierce eyes. “Brother Yue! I’ve searched for you so hard!”

Liu Xie watched all this intently upstairs.

“System, scan!”

When Yang Zaixing’s stats fully unfolded, Liu Xie’s pupils constricted sharply:

Yang Zaixing

Command: 82

Strength: 98

Intelligence: 72

Politics: 55

Charisma: 85

Special Ability: Unyielding War God

Effect 1: +30% chance to break enemy formations when leading cavalry charges;

Effect 2: In duels, charges, or when surrounded, strength randomly increases by 2–5; the more perilous the situation, the stronger the boost; lasts one hour;

Effect 3: When troop strength falls below 30%, triggers a berserk state increasing strength by 10 points temporarily, lasting half an hour; after effect ends, causes weakness—stamina drops by 50%, strength decreases by 20; requires three days of rest to recover.

Loyalty: 90

“What a formidable general!” Liu Xie couldn’t help but bang the table, causing the tea cup to ring sharply.

In his mind, the scene of Yang Zaixing clashing with Ma Chao already took shape—two peerless spearmen, colliding on this snowy frontier at the end of the Han dynasty, would surely spark flames of legend.

Jia Xu, standing nearby, also cast an admiring glance at Yang Zaixing, but his gaze ultimately fixed on Yue Fei. He knew this white-robed youth was the sharp blade in Emperor Xian’s hand, the ruthless dagger capable of slicing through the Xiliang legion.

Back at Zhang Ji’s camp.

Two more days passed. When the messenger pressed again, Zhang Ji sighed. “To be honest, an epidemic has broken out in the army. Many soldiers suffer from high fevers and cannot march.”

“Enough!” the messenger slammed the table and stood. “I’m returning to Chang’an to report. Let’s see how you explain this to General Li!” With that, he strode away, sleeves swinging.

Watching the messenger’s retreating figure, Fan Chou sneered coldly. “Now Li Jue will be furious.”

Zhang Ji looked toward Chang’an and whispered, “The real show is just beginning.”

In Chang’an, Li Jue’s residence.

“What? They dare to treat my orders with such contempt!” Li Jue flung the jade cup in his hand to the ground, shattering it into pieces. His face darkened, veins bulging at his temples. “The rumors in the streets are true—Zhang Ji and Fan Chou are dead set against me!”

Jia Xu stood nearby, head bowed, a faint glint in his eyes. “General, please calm your anger. Perhaps Zhang and Fan have genuine difficulties…”

“Nonsense!” Li Jue roared. “Wenhe, do you even defend them?”

Jia Xu quickly bowed. “I dare not. But if we force them, unforeseen troubles may arise.”

Guo Si, seated quietly, spoke slyly, “Why not send troops to ‘assist’ them?”

Li Jue’s eyes flashed with murderous light. “Just as I thought! Li Li!”

A young general in his early twenties stepped forward, bearing a striking resemblance to Li Jue but with a more frivolous air. “Uncle, what are your orders?”

“You take ten thousand elite soldiers and ‘urge’ Zhang Ji and Fan Chou to deploy their troops!” Li Jue ground his teeth. “If they delay again, capture them!”

Jia Xu lowered his head, hiding a smile. Inwardly, he thought, “The fish have taken the bait.”

Outside, dusk deepened; the silhouette of Chang’an felt especially grim and forbidding in the fading sunset.

A greater storm was brewing.