Lingcheng was once a salt-producing region. Salt being vital to the nation’s lifeline, the city was heavily garrisoned in those days, with merchants coming and going in an endless stream, bustling with activity. It was during that period that Lingcheng expanded again and again, taking on its present form.
Unfortunately, this prosperity was severed a century ago. The brine in Lingcheng dried up, and with it, the salt production ceased. The troops departed, merchants stopped coming, and Lingcheng swiftly fell into decline.
From a distance, Lingcheng resembled a colossal beast crouched upon the land—ancient, imposing, yet also bleak and weathered.
The city gates stood wide open, with countless people surging outward like anxious ants, their cries and wails unceasing. Word had spread throughout the city: bandits were coming. Those bandits were ruthless demons who killed without blinking. Now, even the prefect had fled—if they didn’t run, weren’t they just waiting to die?
“Fortunately, Red Beard and his men haven’t arrived yet,” Lu Yunchuan gasped, panting heavily. The journey had utterly exhausted him.
“Make the most of the time,” Xie Zhiyuan said.
The group spurred their horses toward the city gates.
Though their party numbered only slightly over twenty, each rode a horse, exuding a fierce and formidable aura that marked them as anything but ordinary.
Riding against the tide, they immediately drew the attention of many.
Xie Zhiyuan reined in his horse at the city gate and shouted to the crowd, “I am Xie Zhiyuan, Swift Cavalry General of the Yongsheng Dynasty, now ordered to defend Lingcheng.” Gripping his long blade, his presence was awe-inspiring, and his words silenced everyone.
The Yongsheng Dynasty—it was said that the army currently occupying Jingdu and pushing northward belonged to the Yongsheng Dynasty. How had they already reached Lingcheng? And what about those bandits?
“The bandits are heading this way. If you leave now, you will surely encounter them. Fellow townspeople, please spread the word: staying in Lingcheng and defending it is the only way to survive.” Leaving these words behind, Xie Zhiyuan rode into the city. He needed to first inspect the prefectural office and reorganize the city’s defensive forces.
As he entered, his guards followed like tigers and leopards, galloping into the city behind him, leaving the crowd of commoners exchanging bewildered glances.
What should they do? Stay or go?
If they stayed, could Lingcheng be defended? What he said just now sounded good, but there was no sign of a large army—only these few people. Could they really hold the city? If they failed and the city fell, they would surely die.
But if they left and encountered the bandits, wouldn’t that also mean death?
Still, there were many spirited individuals among them. Suddenly, a burly man shouted, “Leaving means death, staying means death—I’m staying to fight those bandits!”
Immediately, many voices joined in agreement. “Right, let’s fight those bandits!” “Exactly, this is my home. Why should I leave? If you want to go, go ahead—I’m staying.” “We all have two arms and one head—what are we afraid of?” For a moment, the crowd’s fervor surged.
Some immediately headed back into the city, intending to inform their neighbors, gather weapons, and prepare to fight the bandits to the death.
Others, more analytical, weighed the pros and cons and concluded that staying in the city clearly offered a higher chance of survival. That man had claimed to be the Swift Cavalry General of Yongsheng. If such a high-ranking general dared to remain in Lingcheng, it surely meant he had confidence in victory.
Another wave of people returned to the city.
The remaining group included those without strong opinions. Seeing so many others turning back, they too returned. Of course, there were also those who considered themselves clever or had other ideas, and they still chose to leave Lingcheng. Overall, however, the majority of the commoners returned to the city.
Xie Zhiyuan and the others arrived at the prefectural office. The main gate was wide open, with people occasionally running out carrying vases and other items, creating a scene of chaos.
Entering the yamen, the main hall was empty—no prefectural soldiers or bailiffs were in sight.
Wait, there was a person sitting in the corner of the hall, dressed in the attire of an Official Clerk, staring blankly into the hall.
“Who are you? Is the prefect here?” Xie Zhiyuan demanded sharply, his voice cutting like a blade.
The man jolted, instinctively replying, “This humble official is Du Yang, the chief clerk of the prefecture. The prefect… Prefect Song has already left.”
As expected, just as Zhang Yuan had predicted, Prefect Song had fled.
“I am Xie Zhiyuan, Swift Cavalry General of the Yongsheng Dynasty, now ordered to defend Lingcheng,” Xie Zhiyuan declared.
Upon hearing this, Du Yang’s eyes immediately lit up. He had heard of Xie Zhiyuan—the Yongsheng Dynasty’s peerless warrior, a single rider who could take on a thousand, unmatched in battle! With him here, Lingcheng had hope.
As for Xie Zhiyuan being a general of the Yongsheng Dynasty while Du Yang was an official of the Jin Dynasty—what did it matter? With the enemy at the gates, survival was all that mattered.
Moreover, after capturing cities, the Yongsheng Dynasty never engaged in burning, killing, or plundering, earning a favorable reputation.
“General,” Du Yang immediately stood up, excitedly saying, “We welcome you, General. What should we do now?”
Xie Zhiyuan already had a plan. “Gather the personnel of the prefectural office and close the city gates.”
“Yes, sir!” Du Yang promptly left.
Soon after, the city gates were closed, and quite a few people had indeed gathered in the prefectural hall.
Xie Zhiyuan asked several questions and gained a general understanding of Lingcheng’s situation—not too good, but not too bad either.
“Can you make some of those fire-oil bottles?” he asked Lu Yunxi. Those fire-oil bottles were truly effective when used from a height. In the past, when defending cities, they would heat the fire oil and pour it down—powerful, but not as effective as the fire-oil bottles. An explosion could take out several enemies, and the splattering oil could burn others.
Moreover, fire-oil bottles were much more convenient to use than regular fire oil. He had no idea how Lu Yunxi had thought of it.
“I came here to help,” Lu Yunxi said.
A faint smile touched Xie Zhiyuan’s lips. He knew!
Turning around, his demeanor stern and imposing, he issued orders in a firm, resounding voice. “Du Yang, take inventory of all grain, arrows, and other supplies in the prefectural storehouse. I need accurate numbers.”
“Yes, sir!” Du Yang immediately accepted the order.
“Shen Qi, gather all prefectural soldiers and bailiffs in the city, distribute weapons, and wait for me at the city walls.”
“Yes, sir!” A burly man with a flushed face accepted the order excitedly.
…
Orders were issued one after another, methodically and without haste.
At that moment, a bailiff suddenly rushed in, intending to speak but falling silent upon sensing the solemn atmosphere in the hall.
“What is it?” Xie Zhiyuan asked.
“R-reporting, General. There are many commoners outside, and they’re carrying weapons,” the bailiff stammered in reply.
Everyone was startled. Were the commoners planning to rebel?
Xie Zhiyuan descended from the hall and walked outside.
At that moment, the prefectural office was surrounded by a crowd of able-bodied commoners. They held kitchen knives, hoes, and other tools, their arms bulging with veins and their eyes bloodshot.
No one spoke, and the atmosphere was eerily quiet.
Xie Zhiyuan walked to the front of the crowd, glanced down, and suddenly raised his sword, shouting loudly, “Defend Lingcheng!”
“Roar!” A roar erupted from the crowd. They would defend Lingcheng, protect their loved ones, and safeguard their homes!
Everyone busied themselves with preparations. Above Lingcheng, it still felt as if a dark cloud was pressing down, making it hard to breathe, but the atmosphere was no longer one of fear—instead, it was filled with determination.
The people’s morale can be harnessed—a good commander is probably someone like Xie Zhiyuan, Lu Yunxi thought as she watched his back, then chuckled to herself and went about her own tasks.
Gathering people to make Molotov cocktails was simple, but it still required careful explanation and constant supervision to avoid accidents.
As evening approached, dust clouds billowed in the distance, and a dark mass of people pressed toward Lingcheng.
On the city wall, Xie Zhiyuan stood surveying the scene. After a brief glance, he frowned. “More than six thousand—likely close to ten thousand.” Looking more closely, he added, “There are Jin Dynasty troops among them.”
Lu Yunxi stood beside him, marveling at how a professional soldier could discern so much at a glance. Unlike her, who only saw a large crowd and couldn’t estimate their numbers, let alone determine their origins.
But this was hardly good news!
The opposing forces indeed numbered nearly ten thousand. On his way to Lingcheng, Red Beard had encountered a group of Jin Dynasty deserters from the Northern Camp of Licheng—a key military stronghold in the north of the Jin Dynasty.
These deserters, more accurately described as fugitives, had fled without even engaging the Yongsheng Army, scattering at the first sign of trouble. Along the way, they had looted and pillaged, making them no different from Red Beard and his men. The two groups quickly allied, vowing to accomplish something significant together.
What was this significant task? The immediate goal was to seize Lingcheng’s women and wealth.
The leader of these deserters was Wei Yuan, a man with thick eyebrows and triangular eyes, who now addressed Red Beard as a sworn brother.
“We’ve had a tough journey. Once we enter the city, let the men have some fun,” said a fierce-looking, burly man with red eyebrows and a red beard—the bandit leader Red Beard.
“Agreed,” Wei Yuan replied. “I’ve heard of Song Lin—he’s a coward. He’s probably—”
He stopped mid-sentence as they arrived outside Lingcheng. To his surprise, the city gates were tightly shut, and the walls were lined with armed guards glaring down at them—nothing like what he had expected.
“What’s going on?” Red Beard’s expression darkened as he looked up at the walls. His eyes immediately fell on a man dressed in black, standing tall and imposing, exuding an aura of authority.
“Is that Magistrate Song up there? I am Wei Yuan, General of the Northern Camp’s Yamen. Open the gates and let us in,” Wei Yuan attempted to deceive those above into allowing them entry.
On the wall, Xie Zhiyuan had no intention of engaging with them. They were nothing but beasts in human form—if they wanted a fight, so be it!
Red Beard realized the man above couldn’t possibly be Magistrate Song. Some unknown fellow was daring to ruin his plans.
With that thought, he waved his hand.
Immediately, soldiers dragged forward a group of people they had captured along the way—prisoners they hadn’t yet killed. Now was the perfect time to send a message to those on the walls.
The soldiers forced the captives to kneel in a row.
Trembling with fear, the prisoners pleaded for mercy incessantly.
Those on the walls recognized them—they were the ones who had chosen to flee the city earlier.
Red Beard gripped his demon-head broadsword, glaring furiously at the people on the walls. With a roar, he swung the blade and severed one prisoner’s head.
Blood sprayed as the head rolled to the ground.
Red Beard cast a sidelong glance at those on the walls, as if the person he had just killed were one of them.
He was making an example of them to intimidate the others. He had often done this before—ordinary people couldn’t withstand such terror; they would be utterly terrified and at his mercy.
Sure enough, the people on the city walls turned pale. Were these bandits truly so ruthless, killing without batting an eye?
“Don’t be afraid. The more you fear, the faster you’ll die,” a steady voice said. It was Xie Zhiyuan. His expression remained unchanged, his posture as firm as a mountain.
This gave everyone a sense of security. They realized it was true—the more they feared, the quicker they would die. Just look at the people below!
“Kill.”
“Kill.”
“Kill.” Someone shouted, and immediately, a thunderous roar erupted from the city walls, shaking the heavens.
Red Beard hadn’t expected this and was left dumbfounded.
Author’s Note: