Here Comes The Trouble! . . .
With a commanding shout, Prince Hua-Yang issued orders that set the battlefield in motion. "Drums! Clarions!"
Thunderous drumbeats reverberated from all directions, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.
"Today, we need no grand ceremonies to commence our warpath," Prince Hua-Yang declared with passion. "What we require is a grand celebration upon our victorious return! The more extravagant, the better! So, I implore you all—await our triumphant homecoming!"
His voice carried clearly over the clamor of the drums, reaching the ears of both citizens and soldiers alike.
The response was deafening—a collective roar that resonated throughout the land.
"Soldiers, each of you—turn and salute your homeland!" Prince Hua-Yang's voice seemed as though it might tear through his throat.
In unison, the troops executed the command, pivoting to face the walls of Chen-Xing City. Their expressions brimmed with dignity, solemnity, and unwavering loyalty.
In their hands, weapons were raised high and then brought down with a resounding crash—a gesture that sent shockwaves through the land.
"Farewell, beloved people of our homeland!" Their voices boomed.
"Farewell, beloved families!" The echoes reverberated.
"Farewell, our beloved king!"
Atop the city walls, the king, donned in his resplendent yellow robe, stood in a conspicuous spot, facing the wind with hands clasped behind his back. He observed the hundreds of thousands of warriors assembled outside the city—the same vantage point that monarchs had occupied since ancient times, witnessing their warriors embarking on campaigns.
Once more, weapons were raised and fell heavily in unison.
Then, with fists placed over their hearts, the soldiers saluted, their eyes filled with unwavering determination and loyalty.
The king, too, offered his own symbolic gesture, extending his hands as if to cradle the entire world. In measured tones, he spoke.
Following the king's proclamation, a general clad in gleaming golden armor bellowed, "This is the king's decree! 'By the will of the heavens, we shall triumph in this battle, as warriors sworn to protect our homeland! Our kingdom shall remain unyielding; the Chen Kingdom shall endure eternally! My warriors embark on this noble quest, and I stand here beside you! Upon your triumphant return, I shall journey one hundred miles from the city to greet your victory!'"
"The King! The King! The King!" The troops erupted in a synchronized chant, their voices thunderous enough to rock the world.
The king acknowledged their cheers with a gracious wave of his hand.
"Go!" Prince Hua-Yang's voice resounded once more.
In an instant, the earth trembled. A colossal banner, held high by a steed charging at full tilt, led the way for the advancing army. The vanguard set a relentless pace, with horses galloping and infantry following suit, a swirling tempest of dust rising in their wake.
Not a single warrior cast a backward glance, their resolve unwavering as they marched towards destiny.
Within the army, tears streamed down the faces of soldiers, unchecked and unhidden. Their unwiped tears bore witness to the emotional upheaval that gripped them as they followed the march. Each tear that fell was a silent tribute to their unwavering resolve.
"Victory!"
Citizens and soldiers alike, as if of one mind, roared in unison. What had initially been a cacophony soon harmonized into a synchronized chant.
"Return!"
"Victory!"
"Return!"
"Victory!"
The army surged forward, a relentless river of iron coursing southward.
Prince Hua-Yang turned his gaze toward the capital, a sentimentality etching his face. Suddenly, he shouted, and his steed reared up like a proud stallion, spear pointing skyward.
"I am leaving!"
The steed descended, transforming into a black whirlwind that raced forward. The army followed suit, their collective footsteps creating earth-shaking resonance—booming thunder that echoed through the heavens.
Observing the departing army from the city walls, the king wore a satisfied smile. His eyes welled up, though only slightly.
"What a magnificent sight. Truly, this is my kingdom," he mused softly.
...
As the morning sun waned, the place that had earlier hosted five camps of troops lay empty. Not a scrap of paper littered the ground; the area was spotlessly clean. Where temporary latrines once stood, the earth was now level, smooth as a floor. The 300,000-strong army had departed with an efficiency that bordered on the miraculous, leaving behind a scene of remarkable tidiness.
Many citizens remained, their eyes fixed on the path the army had taken. They stood there for an extended period, their hopes and fears manifesting in unwavering vigilance. Though the army had long vanished from their sight, their hearts remained tethered to the soldiers' fate.
The battle had not yet begun, but the people's concerns and anxieties for their loved ones were already in motion. These emotions would endure until their warriors returned.
On horseback, Cha-Eun Xiao gazed at the now-empty encampment. His heart surged with pride and emotion. [They are off to battle. I pray for their triumphant return.]
Not far away, a carriage arrived, revealing Su Ye-Yue's tear-streaked face. Her eyes, still red from crying, welled with fresh tears upon seeing Cha-Eun Xiao. Attempting to feign toughness, she had initially refrained from shedding more tears, but seeing a familiar face broke her resolve.
"It's alright," Cha-Eun Xiao said gently, reaching out. "Everything will be fine. Prince Hua-Yang will surely return victorious."
Su Ye-Yue nodded, her affirmation weighed down by her vulnerability. "Yes."
In this moment, she no longer projected a facade of strength; she was simply a daughter yearning for her father. "My mother didn't come with me. Father wouldn't allow it. I came secretly. I can't let my father see me like this..."
Cha-Eun Xiao could only sigh, understanding Prince Hua-Yang's stoicism. In his current role, the prince had to display unwavering resolve, but in the presence of his wife, he may falter and succumb to grief, impacting the soldiers' morale.
As time passed, the crowd gradually retreated back into the city, their heavy-hearted footsteps echoing their emotions of farewell. Some women couldn't help but look back repeatedly, half-expecting their loved ones to miraculously return on swift horses, only to be met with silent tears.
Cha-Eun Xiao and Su Ye-Yue remained at the gate, reluctant to leave. An hour later, the king, perched atop the city walls, sighed and murmured, "Ding-Guo, I wish you the best of luck. Please do not forget my words." He turned and headed back to the royal palace.
Finally, after some time, the crowd dispersed, and silence descended upon the land. An atmosphere of melancholic separation lingered in the air.
Zuo Wu-Ji and Lan Lang-Lang lingered as well, choosing not to approach Cha-Eun Xiao and Su Ye-Yue immediately. They understood the pair's situation. [Su Ye-Yue has just bid her father farewell to the battlefront. She must be overwhelmed with sadness. Cha-Eun Xiao is likely providing her comfort. Let us give them some space and approach later.]
Su Ye-Yue stood beside Cha-Eun Xiao's horse, straining her gaze southward, though her father and the army were long gone. "Father, you have always been invincible. This time will be no different. You shall return victorious," she whispered, her small fists clenched in encouragement and consolation, both for her father and herself.
Around noon, she still refused to leave. Cha-Eun Xiao approached her, intending to offer comfort. At the same time, Zuo Wu-Ji and Lan Lang-Lang moved closer, but they paused, realizing that Su Ye-Yue and Cha-E
un Xiao needed some space.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching hoofbeats reached their ears. Beyond the city gate, a group of young men dressed in luxurious attire rode forth on horseback. Their faces bore expressions of carelessness and arrogance as they laughed heartily, portraying themselves as heroes. Their cavalier demeanor was on full display as they rode, flapping their capes and making their horses prance with exaggerated movements.
After the grand army had departed, a new group of individuals made their presence known, causing the officers and guards stationed at the gate to bristle with fury. Their expressions conveyed a potent mixture of anger and disdain.
[While these gallant men embarked on their perilous journey to battle, these foppish young rakes couldn't be bothered to bid them farewell. That's perfectly fine; no one expected them to do so. However, now that the brave soldiers have departed, this group of individuals dares to make an appearance with such ostentatious postures. What in the world is this?]
It was a direct affront to the valorous troops who had just set out.
Zuo Wu-Ji's eyes blazed with anger as he muttered under his breath, "Cha-Eun Xiao, trouble is on the horizon."
Cha-Eun Xiao raised an eyebrow. "Trouble?"
Since adopting the identity of Cha-Eun Xiao, he had become well-acquainted with the concept of trouble. Yet today, he had hoped to avoid any complications, considering it was a rather special day. Unfortunately, trouble had arrived uninvited, in advance no less.
But who were these troublemakers?
Cha-Eun Xiao had been careful not to memorize people's identities as he had embraced his new persona. Fortunately, Zuo Wu-Ji was there to provide introductions.
"Their leader is Li Cheng-Ze, the grandson of the Right Prime Minister. Following him is Jiang Yu-Ming's son, who serves as the Revenue Minister. And there's the son of the Rites Minister, among others," Zuo Wu-Ji listed their names one by one.
Lan Lang-Lang chimed in with a knowing smile. "These rascals have been 'friends' of ours for quite some time."
Cha-Eun Xiao furrowed his brow. [This is indeed trouble—a big one.]
While they discussed the approaching group, the young lads in question were drawing nearer, wielding their horsewhips with a swagger that oozed insolence.