The Blood Crown - Chapter 14

Yuan Mao reached down to help Hu Baicheng up from the ground and asked with composure, “Speak.”

“The Jin forces… the Huang River is frozen, and the Jin invaders have taken advantage of the fog to launch a surprise attack!” Hu Baicheng’s cheeks trembled as he spoke.

Yuan Sikong’s vision darkened, and his scalp tingled.

Yuan Mao, still gripping Hu Baicheng’s arm firmly, leaving an indentation, spoke with deep seriousness, “Shaoxu, order the Guangning soldiers to stand by through the night. Baicheng, come with me to see Lord Li.”

“Yes!”

Yuan Mao began walking towards the exit, dragging Hu Baicheng along.

“Master…” Yue Qingfrost whispered softly.

Yuan Mao paid no attention and continued until the prospective in-laws’ carriage stopped in front of the Yuan residence. Only then did he remember, and he turned to look at Yuan Sikong. “Sikong, make sure to host our guests well.”

“Yes.”

Yuan Mao hurried away with Hu Baicheng in tow.

“Master…” Yue Qingfrost whispered again, her voice filled with concern.

Yuan Sikong gently pushed her from behind. “Mother, don’t worry.”

Yue Qingfrost held onto Yuan Sikong’s hand, straightening her slender figure, and went forward to welcome the guests.

Yuan Sikong explained the sudden departure of Yuan Mao to the Lin family members. They were immediately filled with worry. Although they were just a day’s carriage ride away from Guangning, the city served as the gateway to Liaodong. Their fates were intertwined, and any threat to Guangning was a threat to them.

The meal was consumed with a heavy atmosphere hanging over the table. Despite their concerns, they had to proceed with the marriage arrangements. With Yuan Mao and Yuan Shaoxu absent, it was up to Yue Qingfrost to take the lead, and both families agreed to proceed with the engagement.

With father and elder brother absent, Yuan Sikong took charge of welcoming and seeing off the guests. He ensured the Lin family’s comfortable stay at the inn and didn’t return home. Instead, he rushed to Yuan Mao’s yamen.

He spent a restless night, his mind preoccupied with worry. He had to manage the reception and farewells for the guests. The most dreaded event that had haunted him like a nightmare for the past four years was finally happening. Around the same time the previous year, the Jin forces had made a similar attempt when they launched a surprise attack on Han Zhaoxing’s camp with two thousand cavalry, but they had been unsuccessful.

This time, it had to be a significant military development for Hu Baicheng to appear so frantic.

When they arrived at the yamen, they indeed found Yuan Mao inside, discussing military matters with the city’s generals, including Qian Anrong. Yuan Sikong didn’t dare to enter and had to hide outside the door, unable to hear what was being discussed inside. However, everyone’s solemn expressions were evident.

Since the Sheng army had abandoned the seven northern provinces of Liaodong, Han Zhaoxing had led thirty thousand troops to camp by the Huang River for the past four years. It was rumored that the court had considered whether to build another city near the Huang River, but there had been no follow-up. The Jin forces had no navy, and to cross the river, they had to wait for winter when the river froze. Considering that the Huang River stretched for hundreds of miles, setting up outposts instead of a fixed city allowed for more flexibility in detecting enemy movements.

This arrangement allowed Han’s forces to complement the defenses of Guangning Prefecture, creating a pincer strategy that deterred the Jin forces from making rash incursions.

However, Yuan Sikong had never trusted Han Zhaoxing. He knew that judging a hero by the outcome of a single battle was not fair, but Han Zhaoxing had performed disastrously. Qizhou City was well-fortified and well-supplied, and if they had held their ground, they could have exhausted the Jin forces. Yet Han Zhaoxing had chosen to leave the city and engage in a disastrous battle. His defeat had cost Liaobei, a region held for over three hundred years by the founding emperor, and tarnished his name in history.

What Yuan Sikong despised most was that Han Zhaoxing hadn’t faced the appropriate consequences. The titles and stipends he lost were inconsequential, and he remained the General of Liaodong, effectively in control of Liaodong’s military.

Yuan Sikong couldn’t shake his feeling that Han Zhaoxing was destined to lose again in this battle or that he had already lost.

The discussions in Yuan Mao’s office continued into the late hours of the night. Yuan Sikong sat outside the door and had fallen asleep by the time Yuan Mao noticed him.

“Shaoxu, Shaoxu.”

Yuan Sikong slowly opened his eyes. “Father…”

“Why are you here? It’s so cold at night, you must have caught a chill.” Yuan Mao helped him to his feet.

“I was waiting for you,” Yuan Sikong said, acknowledging Yuan Shaoyu, his elder brother, who stood nearby.

Yuan Shaoyu nodded, expressionless. “This is a place for discussing military matters. Why are you here? Go back and rest.”

“Shaoxu, if you’re on night duty tonight, report immediately if anything happens.”

“Yes,” Yuan Shaoyu replied respectfully.

“Empty, did you arrange everything properly for the Lin family’s elders?”

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ve explained everything to them.”

Yuan Mao pulled Yuan Sikong up. “That’s good. Come back home with me now.”

Yuan Sikong hurriedly asked, “Father, how is the situation at the Huang River?”

Yuan Mao, however, didn’t rush to respond. He helped Yuan Sikong onto his horse, and as they began to trot slowly, he spoke softly, “Do you remember four years ago, when I carried you like this on a single horse? Back then, you were much smaller and almost skin and bones.”

“Father, I will never forget.” Yuan Sikong could even recall how cold that night’s rain had been, which made Yuan Mao’s warmth stand out even more.

“In the blink of an eye, it’s been four years,” Yuan Mao sighed. “For the past four years, I’ve lived with constant worry, never knowing when the Jin forces would cross the Huang River or lay siege to Guangning City.”

Yuan Sikong’s heart trembled. “Father, has Han Zhaoxing been defeated?”

Yuan Mao replied in a deep voice, “The Jin forces launched a surprise attack during the fog, disrupting the communication between the left army and the main camp. Left General Li Mi and three thousand soldiers perished. After reorganizing his troops, Han Zhaoxing managed to drive the Jin forces temporarily away.”

Yuan Sikong clenched his fists. “Han Zhaoxing is incapable!”

Yuan Mao didn’t reprimand Yuan Sikong for his disrespectful words, as he usually would. Instead, he sighed, “The Jin forces are swift, experts at ambushes and raids. They caught us off guard, just like last year, with a light cavalry vanguard, probing the camp’s defenses. I’m afraid our main army is behind.”

“Father, what is Han Zhaoxing’s current strategy?”

“What do you think the strategy should be?”

“It should be to retreat and defend Guangning. With winter approaching, if the Jin forces advance deep into our territory and fail to capture the city, they will surely grow weary and eventually withdraw.”

“I thought the same, but General Han shows no intention of retreating. He continues to guard the large camp at the Huang River and is urging Guangning to send supplies.”

“This is simply foolish!” Yuan Sikong couldn’t contain his anger.

Yuan Mao’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, showing great concern. “If he can hold off the Jin forces, it’s good. But if he can’t… Empty, do you think Guangning can withstand them?”

Yuan Sikong bit his lip, unsure of how to answer.

Guangning City was small, and its city walls, though fortified for the past four years, were not as sturdy as those of larger cities. Yuan Sikong thought for a moment before replying, “Regardless, having a city to defend gives us an advantage.”

“Exactly. Let’s hope General Han can drive the Jin forces away.”

“Father, you don’t usually discuss these matters with me. What’s happening today?”

Yuan Mao didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he helped Yuan Sikong up onto his horse, and as they began to trot slowly, he said, “For you to wait until this hour shows your concern for military affairs. I know you’ve never been able to let go of Liaobei, and you’ve always detested the Jin forces. Qizhou has already fallen, Taiping has fallen as well, and I’m afraid our main army is behind.”

“Father, you have my trust! Guangning will hold strong,” Yuan Sikong declared, holding onto Yuan Mao’s arm.

That night, Yuan Sikong couldn’t sleep. As dawn approached, he got out of bed, sat down at the desk, and opened a piece of parchment to write a letter to Feng Ye, his friend:

My dear friend Feng Ye,

It has been more than a month since we bid farewell to Guangning.

Liaodong was in the grip of severe cold, with the north wind cutting like a knife. As the Huang River froze over, the Jin invaders…

Yuan Sikong paused after writing these two lines. He questioned the purpose of writing this letter to Feng Ye. If it was only to exchange feelings and concerns, he shouldn’t burden an eight-year-old child with military matters. It would be unjust to make Feng Ye worry needlessly.

Yuan Sikong set down his pen and clutched his head.

He felt panicked and disoriented, wanting desperately to confide his fears to someone but unable to bring himself to speak to those around him.

The brutality of the Jin forces was infamous in Liaodong, and even adults would use them to frighten three-year-old children. Yuan Sikong had grown up hearing tales of the cruelty of the Jin invaders.

He had heard stories of Jin soldiers burning, killing, and plundering with no mercy, committing heinous acts. If his own experience of losing his home and family and becoming a refugee was an indirect taste of the Jin’s horrors, then the Jin forces advancing across the Huang River toward Guangning had brought him face to face with the bone-chilling fear.

He dared not imagine what would happen if Guangning fell and its 40,000 residents faced unspeakable disaster.

Yuan Sikong lay his head on the desk and stared at the name “Feng Ye” he had written. He pondered how differently the Liaodong people might feel if it were the Feng family’s troops defending the region. They wouldn’t be trembling like he was on this late night.

Closing his eyes, Yuan Sikong crumpled the piece of parchment he had written…

In the following days, Yuan Mao and Yuan Shaoxu were almost never seen day or night. The city’s defenses were heightened, and soldiers hustled to and fro within the city. The people of Guangning were on edge.

Yuan Mao organized the evacuation of all civilians from the surrounding areas into the city, clearly intending to make a last stand and await the enemy. It seemed he, like Yuan Sikong, feared that Han Zhaoxing might lose the battle. Although there had been no changes on the frontline, the urgency of the situation weighed heavily on them all. It was as if a dormant tiger could pounce at any moment, and nobody knew when that might be.

Yuan Sikong desperately wanted to know about the military situation and contribute ideas about defense and the well-being of the people. As he watched the busy adults around him, he saw flaws everywhere and felt he could do better. However, he knew that being too meddlesome would lead to scolding from Yuan Mao or Yuan Shaoxu, leaving him in a state of constant anxiety.

After a month of silence following the surprise attack on Han Zhaoxing’s camp, the situation finally changed.