Chapter 235: Seizing Glory and Building Merit
Chapter 235: Seizing Glory and Building Merit
Fifteen days later.
In this dense jungle, the unique damp climate of Guizhou had caused many men’s skin to fester and itch terribly.
Their dwindling food supply was now almost gone.
But the true difficulty wasn’t the food—it was moving through this endless wilderness of trees and ravines.
The Ten Thousand Peaks stretched on without end. On the military map, it looked like a mere ten-li journey. Yet in reality, impassible chasms seemed to block their path at every turn.
Even the Mountain Brigade soldiers were utterly exhausted. The high spirits they’d carried upon leaving Guiyang had vanished without a trace. Dragging themselves through the muck like mud-covered wretches, only six hundred remained from their original force of eight hundred.
Worst of all, their Regional Commander kept fooling them.
Fang Jinglong kept telling them “Just beyond this mountain peak!” Yet each conquered hill revealed another towering peak. Again and again.
Despair had taken hold. Men even preferred to lean against tree roots and die right there rather than march another step.
The oppressive heat made them want to tear off their heavy, wet armor. But lurking snakes and insects forced them to swathe themselves tightly as they advanced through the undergrowth.
When leaving Guiyang, the Palace Eunuch had been shocked. But… he didn’t protest. He merely turned away to draft a secret imperial memorial.
Fang Jinglong knew he was gambling everything. But he had no choice. This trap set by that woman offered the Ming Army its only chance of victory. Failure meant countless soldiers lost forever in this jungle’s depths.
Here, fighting the rebels themselves was the least frightening. The elite Ming soldiers, well-supplied, banners clear, and commands unified, were leagues above the native rebel rabble. Their real battle was against the heavens, against the endless mountains, against the sudden epidemic diseases, and against the rain that never ceased.
Fang Jinglong panted heavily, also exhausted. He sat slumped on a huge rock, half-closing his eyes to observe his ragged line of soldiers. Many staggered forward numbly. The whole procession was lifeless, every man looking wretched.
The soldiers met Fang Jinglong’s gaze. Their eyes held none of their former respect. Only emptiness remained. Liar.
“Once we cross this mountain…” Fang Jinglong swallowed hard, trying to muster cheerfulness to fool them one more time. Like those later-age companies obsessed with “harvesting greens,” he couldn’t bear to stop until they were utterly drained. Who knew if another stalk remained unplucked until the last moment?
“Regional Commander…” Fang Jinglong managed only the title before Old Wang beside him interrupted, gasping for air with a tear-streaked face. “Don’t fool them again, sir. Push them too far and the men will riot.”
Fang Jinglong fell silent, his brows knotting deeply. A wave of melancholy washed over him. He lifted his gaze toward the few spears of sunlight piercing the dense jungle canopy. Emotions flooded him. “Different times. Completely different times… Back when my grandfather received Emperor Wen’s imperial decree to conquer Annam… I was young. Heard it from Grandfather himself. Said his warriors back then… used to be so earnest, you know? Unlike soldiers today… slick and shrewd. Each generation just… worse than the last.” He felt born at the wrong time. Under Emperor Wen, in Grandfather’s era, he surely wouldn’t face such shame. Daydreaming briefly, he finally wrinkled his mouth and said to Old Wang, “Help me up. This old back suffers… We press on. Beyond this mountain… Damned if fighting here isn’t worse than battling rebels at the Nine Garrisons. Rather die there… clean and quick.”
With Old Wang’s support, Fang Jinglong stood slowly, wincing. Inside his boots, the Foot-Binding Cloth hadn’t been unwrapped for weeks. Sweat and bleeding sores seemed to have cemented the cloth to his raw skin. His feet felt decayed.
Finally upright—their primary scout pushed through the vines ahead! “Regional Commander! Commander!” Scout Liu’s voice vibrated with unmistakable excitement.
Not a flicker of reaction showed on the numbed soldiers. No one bothered with him anymore. They all knew this routine. The Regional Commander would tell scouts something, they’d race back gushing that enemy troops were right ahead.
They’d endured this countless times. Scout Liu’s acting was top-notch now. His animated stride, how he practically skipped, his raised eyebrows quivering with joy—truly deserving praise.
“Front… The front!” Scout Liu choked out. Tears streamed over grimy cheeks. “Stone Stream Stronghold… It’s Stone Stream Stronghold! We’re… we reached it! Spotted their lookout post. Clear sign rebels occupy it! The stronghold leans next to a waterfall, shielded by mountains and water. My guess? Can’t house more than a hundred families… Scouted it for an hour. Found no hidden sentries… But traces—definite trace—of mules and horses nearby.”
The soldiers trudged onward, numb. Just another act, figured they all.
Fang Jinglong however snapped alert. His tired face instantly lit up. “Confirm rebels?”
“Positive, Commander. Few women in the stronghold. Analyzing hanging laundry… over eighty percent were male garments. Most native men rallied under Mi Lu’s banner. Why… why remain here?” Scout Liu was a veteran who followed Fang Jinglong. Battle prowess—questionable. But observations and scouting? Truly unmatched. Fang Jinglong trusted him implicitly.
Fang Jinglong suddenly felt tears welling. Damned spirits. The last peak. Finally. Fang Jinglong instantly roared at the massed ranks, “Halt immediately! Everyone—gather ’round! Stand ready for orders!”
Soldiers wearing soulless expressions shuffled forward listlessly. Six hundred men stumbling on blister-scarred feet converged like zombies.
Fang Jinglong scrambled onto the massive rock. First… spat out saliva deliberately. Then he vibrated with passion: “Cross this peak! Rebels lie just beyond. And more—the enemy chieftain likely hides right here amongst them!”
Silence.
Nothing met him except expressionless faces and cold eyes upon him.
Fang Jinglong sneered. “New orders. Rest here. Ready for combat. Rice left? Barely any? Stop rationing then. Eat all you got.” Burn every bridge.
These words jolted men awake. Several instantly straightened. Were they dreaming? This… might be true? Else… why squander the last provisions?
Fang Jinglong drew his sword, angling its tip upon the giant stone rock. He scanned his audience slowly, thick jaw muscles visibly tensing beneath sun-cracked skin. “I have a son. Lives in the Capital now. Gets served—around thirty women for personal tending. Those servants to him… are like mares. Whichever he desires, he simply rides!”
“…”
“My boy wears finest woven silk. Go ask—it came straight from Wu Yuan Silk House in Capital. Not one among you lot… could buy a single piece.”
“My good son… creates daily havoc away back home. Offends countless folk. Think Shuntian Prefecture dares lay even one finger on ‘im?”
“Wakes craving milk every morning! Fresh and straight from human bosom! Serve it lukewarm even slightly… he pushes it away!”
“My son lives… paradise ascended.”
“How do your sons fare?” Fang Jinglong cut his gaze contemptuously over their calloused soldier brethren. “Your boys grovel in mud now! Can’t touch book learning! Share your life sentence—Military Households forever! Grow up someday… cannot even get wives! Your family lines—death sentences too. Your sons eat… millet porridge! Resemble Capital street beggars! Everyone spits upon their heads! Your own wives—won’t waste one cloth scrap even on one dress for one self in five years! Why live at all?”
His volume flared abruptly: “Fuming inside? Why my boy enjoys prestige… where yours drudge underfoot? Listen good! Because my grandfather marched in Emperor Wen’s shadow! Shed sweat and blood! Fought killing through foes till royal merit got carved! Without what old ancestors earned… my precious son would share every single fate equal to yours!”
Swiveling his blade tip toward the distant towering peak on mountain ridge, Fang Jinglong’s voice became thunder: “Beyond this final hill! Enemy lurks right ahead! Heaven-bestowed glory waits right ahead! The rebel commander herself hides back there! Leader holding ten thousand insurgents! Because of her… one Ming Provincial Governor died! One Regional Commander died! One Palace Eunuch sacrificed too! Thousands perished on Ming battlefields! Millions consumed by imperial court granaries! Son of Heaven himself rages royal decree for vengeance! Catching that rebel chief means eternal honor stalks horizon!”
“So…” Fang Jinglong’s chest burned visibly under his battered armor plate, jaw set tightly. “…this hour belongs to grasping glory! This hour crafts your stature as human beings! Long blessings for generations flows from Son of Heaven now! Riches and prestige bloom right… now!”
Blank expressions evaporated instantly. Exhausted eyes emerged deeper suddenly, radiating raw, unfamiliar hunger. Vacant soldiers discovered deep within primitive instinct stirring greater than primal ambition. Men trembled collectively. Power rippled where numbness prevailed just moments prior.
Old Wang shot a sideways glance rich with admiration at Commander Fang. Unlike others, his family had pledged loyalty to the Stone Stream Fang clan since his grandfather serving grandfather Fang. Before every battle… the Fangs always recycled this exact speech pattern. Great founder Fang boasted about his son enjoying capital pleasures including human milk. Later Fang senior followed suit with Commander Fang’s father likewise… supping fresh human milk back at Capital. Then Commander Fang Sr.… applied identical theme years ago about Commander Fang! Now fate rotated again to feature Young Lord Fang! Listening till both ears felt fitted for cotton wadding failed stirring joy within Old Wang. Tradition persisted though: Wang family elders forever rode Fang family cultivation lands. Hence he loyally manifest proper bone-deep Fang clan impression now. Doing Wang generations proud. Grinning toothily, he roared instantly following Commander. “Aye Commander Fang speaks just truth! We… slay traitors! Build towering merit!”
Throaty cheers erupted spontaneously across the formation.
Fang Jinglong swelled with pride witnessing ancient Fang clan traditions upheld perfectly. Legacy remained unbroken. His “greens” still flourished greenly upon fertile military recklessness grounds.