Chapter Seventy-Four: Trouble Arrives

In Water Margin, it is often said that Lu Junyi is the greatest warrior in the land, but when it comes to actual feats, he seems to have few to his name. In contrast, Lu Zhishen is different. Both in the novel and in later adaptations, he is described in great detail, which shows that he truly possesses real martial skill.

When he unleashes his Mad Demon Staff Technique, it’s as if a sudden gale sweeps the land, the heavens and earth change color, and in the ten yards surrounding him, neither wind nor rain can penetrate, nor can a blade of grass survive.

Only now did the Khitan soldiers finally understand why this newly anointed Song prince dared to venture into Liao with just a handful of companions. It turned out that these oddly dressed Han men were all hidden masters of extraordinary skill!

After witnessing Lu Zhishen’s Mad Demon Staff, Yelü Min immediately became subdued. What use was a contest now? Even two men casually sent forth from their group were already beyond his reach. He secretly resolved to keep a low profile from now on—no more embarrassing himself.

No one was happier than Xiao Yiyi. She simply hadn’t expected that her beloved would have such formidable protectors at his side.

As night deepened and the bonfire banquet ended, Zhao Yu and Xiao Yiyi found themselves sleepless. The two strolled along the edge of the camp, chatting idly under the stars.

Far behind, Yan Qing and several Khitan guards followed at a discreet distance, alert to any sign of danger.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time, but I’m afraid you might not like it.”

“Oh, you! Even though we’re not yet... whatever you want to say, just say it. I promise I won’t be upset.”

“When we arrive in Shangjing to see the Empress Dowager, I wish to ask her to formally recognize our betrothal. Once my mother is brought to us, we can then hold the official wedding.”

Xiao Yiyi paused, turning to meet the starlit gaze in Zhao Yu’s eyes. Her lips parted as if to speak, but for a moment, words eluded her.

“We’re still young, and we have so much time ahead of us. I swear before the heavens, I will never let you down. Once our bond is acknowledged, we are as good as married. But whenever I think of my mother still suffering in the Cold Palace, I…”

Zhao Yu rarely spoke with such solemnity. Especially as he mentioned his mother’s hardship, his eyes grew misted with unbidden tears.

Xiao Yiyi was deeply moved. She took Zhao Yu’s hand and said softly, “Your mother is my mother, too. You’re right. We cannot marry without her present. We must find a way to bring her out.”

To like someone may happen in an instant, but to truly love is to enter another’s heart and still cherish them as before. Xiao Yiyi now felt just that. Unknowingly, her thoughts were already guided by the man before her, and she was willing to do anything for him.

—Page 1 of 3

“By the way, you said you had a gift for me. Why haven’t I seen it yet?”

“This gift is too big to carry. When you hear the news, you’ll understand what I mean. For now, forgive my secrecy. And you must keep this a secret for me, or my life may be in danger.”

Seeing Zhao Yu so solemn, Xiao Yiyi’s curiosity grew. But as he was clearly unwilling to say more, she pouted, “Who even cares?”

Zhao Yu smiled faintly, though his thoughts were already with Gongsun Sheng. Daoist, don’t disappoint me!

In this wretched old world, there are no telephones or WeChat—just give me some word of how things are going!

As the party passed through Datong—called Nanjing by the Liao—they did not intend to enter the city, for Xiao Yiyi’s aunt was still waiting for them ahead.

But the Nanjing garrison brought troubling news: the Mongol Merkit tribe, incited by the Jurchens, was secretly rallying other Mongol clans to intercept Zhao Yu and Xiao Yiyi’s group.

With most Liao forces deployed to the northern front, the Nanjing region was now the empire’s rear, almost devoid of troops. Yet the Merkit’s royal camp lay directly in Zhao Yu’s path north.

On hearing this, Xiao Yiyi hesitated. She had brought three thousand Flying Bear troops, and with Yelü Huan’s men, they numbered only thirty-five hundred. If confronted by tens of thousands of Mongol cavalry, they might truly not survive.

Xiao Yiyi already saw Zhao Yu as her husband. Upon receiving the report, she told him at once.

Zhao Yu was a little surprised—were the Mongol tribes making their move so soon? The timing seemed almost suspiciously perfect.

Zhao Yu was ever the schemer, always looking deeper. His instincts told him that the Mongols’ involvement was no simple matter.

In the main tent, besides Zhao Yu and Xiao Yiyi, were Lin Chong, Wu Song, Lu Zhishen, Shi Qian, Yelü Min, and Yelü Huan.

The safest course was to retreat to Nanjing and await reinforcements. The Mongols were not adept at storming cities, and once word reached Shangjing, troops would be dispatched to their aid. The matter would likely end there.

Thus, Yelü Min and Yelü Huan both urged Xiao Yiyi to take refuge behind Nanjing’s high, thick walls.

Xiao Yiyi was uncertain and looked instinctively to Zhao Yu, who had remained silent.

In the brazier, the fire crackled. Otherwise, only tense, heavy breathing could be heard.

After a long pause, Zhao Yu suddenly smiled. “Have you ever heard the story of Ban Chao?” he asked.

—Page 2 of 3

Among them, only Lin Chong had read a bit; the others cared little for books.

“Your Highness means we should take the offensive?” Lin Chong asked.

Hearing this, several Khitan present, including Xiao Yiyi, were startled.

“The report says that, under the Jurchens’ instigation, the Mongol tribes have already gathered tens of thousands of men, and more are arriving. With our small force, wouldn’t attacking be suicide?”

Yelü Huan picked up the thread, frowning. Though his rank was not high, he was currently the most senior Liao officer present.

“There’s a saying among the Han: ‘Place yourself in mortal peril, and you shall survive.’ If we retreat now, we may never subdue the Mongols. Moreover, if I’m right, the Mongol tribes are still under Liao’s authority and must be hesitant to rebel. This is our chance—if we strike swiftly and seize the Jurchen leaders, the crisis will be resolved.”

Lin Chong and the others, for their part, had always followed Zhao Yu’s lead. Yelü Min, as commander of the Flying Bear Army, was rough but not reckless.

After a moment’s thought, Yelü Min said, “It sounds feasible, but how can we pinpoint the Jurchens’ exact location?”

His meaning was clear: in a Mongol camp of hundreds of thousands, who knew where the Jurchens were hiding? They couldn’t search every tent.

Zhao Yu smiled, turning to Shi Qian. “Brother Shi, I’ll have to trouble you with this task.”

“Rest assured, Your Highness, I’ll set out at once. But I’ll need the Princess to assign me a guide.”

It was the first time Shi Qian and the others had ventured onto the steppe. Without a guide, they’d be lost in the vast plains.

That was easily arranged. Xiao Yiyi had Yelü Huan find someone, but then, worry clear on her face, she asked Zhao Yu, “If the Mongols truly mean to rebel, their scouts will be everywhere. Can this hero manage alone?”

Zhao Yu had utmost faith in Shi Qian. He nodded with a reassuring smile, then became solemn again. “From this moment, we must advance stealthily and in silence…”

—Page 3 of 3