Chapter 42: The Army at the Gates

After a bout of exercise, Lin Shu could only surrender; otherwise, he would end up sleeping two extra hours tomorrow.

“My husband, these Donghu people are respectful, but they hide many thoughts! The tribes to our north are far more pure and honest,” Jingni murmured as she cradled her husband’s head, knowing that though his eyes were closed, he had no intention of sleeping.

When Daha and the others surrendered, Lin Shu realized the Donghu would not truly submit so easily. If it weren’t for the overwhelming strength of the Northern Army, they would never have yielded, and the bitterness from tens of thousands of casualties would take time to heal. Fortunately, the tribal chiefs had not betrayed or plotted against him, or he would not have survived this long.

“The major tribes have been divided, and their able-bodied men conscripted into the army. In a few years, ten at most, they will truly submit.”

Jingni nodded lightly; the Donghu’s leadership had been broken, and soon they would no longer be able to unite.

“My husband, if the Donghu are so hard to subdue, then how much harder will it be with the people of Yan?”

In truth, Jingni did not wish to march into Liaodong so soon. Their power had risen too quickly, and their domains had not yet truly stabilized.

Lin Shu opened his eyes, understanding now why the Qin dynasty perished little more than a decade after unifying the six kingdoms.

It was the will of the people.

Centuries of rivalry had carved the landscape of the seven kingdoms deep into the hearts of their people. Qin, the first to destroy its own homeland, bore the greatest hatred of the other six.

Qin united the Huaxia, but ultimately it was the Han dynasty that reaped the rewards. Four centuries of Han rule transformed the people of the seven kingdoms into true Han.

“We only want Liaodong and Liaoxi. Then we’ll negotiate an alliance with Yan. I will not destroy Yan, nor the seven kingdoms.”

Lin Shu had already planned the next decade: accelerate Qin’s unification, then emulate the Han dynasty and seize the fruits of Qin’s conquest.

The world is vast; he did not mind letting the nobles of the seven kingdoms emigrate overseas and found new nations—better than slaughtering all dissenters.

Jingni was taken aback; this was not what she had meant to suggest!

“My lord, if the empire grows strong enough to march south in the future, it may well become a new Zhou, replacing Shang. But now, the empire’s foundation is too shallow and must mature with time.”

Jingni believed that once the empire absorbed the Xiongnu, the Yuezhi, the Linhu, and the other tribes, and unified the great desert, its military would rival even the mighty Qin. With enough provisions and a stable rear, the Northern Army could contend for supremacy with the seven kingdoms.

With her husband’s divine chariot, he could face the greatest masters of every school. On battlefield and in the martial world, the empire would have nothing to fear.

Why, throughout history, have the women of the palace been forbidden from meddling in politics? Seeing Jingni’s domineering aura, Lin Shu finally understood.

But he did not mind; power and empire meant little. The human heart is unpredictable, and outward submission is meaningless. What he wanted was true affection, and his beloved wanted invincibility.

“I won’t destroy Yan, but someone will. In the end, Huaxia must return to the Central Plains—but not soon, not within a decade.”

“Seizing Liaodong and Liaoxi is not just for civilized population and craftsmen, but to announce the birth of our empire to the seven kingdoms.”

She understood instantly. But who would destroy Yan—Zhao? Perhaps Qin.

The current mighty Qin possessed the strength to swallow the six kingdoms. Zhao, Wei, and Han had already been crippled; Han and Wei lost most of their territory. Only Chu could still face Qin on the field.

But now there was a new empire, one that would rival Qin.

The Northern Army’s camp was barely ten miles from the Yan border and its Great Wall, and even the infantry had warhorses for travel.

In less than half an hour, 120,000 troops stood before the city. Lin Shu deliberately chose to approach their garrison wall, rather than a weaker section.

The twelve thousand cavalry stretched beyond sight, and there were over twenty thousand warhorses alone.

Inside and outside the garrison, Yan had eighty thousand soldiers, but Wuyang Jing could not help but order immediate reinforcements from all sides.

“Master, how do they have mechanical beasts too?” Yan Dan stared at Six-Fingered Black Knight in disbelief.

There were five black tiger-shaped mechanical beasts, and even two towering humanoid machines.

Six-Fingered Black Knight was even more puzzled. The Gongshu clan served Qin; how could they be here in Liaodong?

“They resemble the Mohist mechanical beasts, but are far inferior! I wonder how they fare in battle. They look impressive, but I doubt they match my Mohist White Tiger,” he said, unable to see clearly from a kilometer away. But he was confident: the Mohist school’s mechanical arts were unrivaled.

Yan Dan sighed in disappointment. He hadn’t expected the Mohist leader’s knowledge would be as limited as his own—neither knew the answer.

As the vanguard halted, forty thousand infantry dismounted and formed ranks, with sheep and ox carts trailing behind—the supplies of the Donghu.

“Xuan Jian, have Yan Dan come down from the city.”

Lin Shu remained in his carriage, but his voice carried forth.

The cockpit opened, and Xuan Jian leapt down from his nine-meter-tall humanoid machine.

“At your command,” he said, mounting a warhorse and galloping toward the city wall.

The border garrison was Liaodong’s primary stronghold, with walls ten meters high. The city itself was only two kilometers wide, and the Yan North Great Wall connected nearby at seven or eight meters high.

Seven meters was average in the Central Plains, but for the Donghu, it was an insurmountable barrier.

As the warhorse approached, a biting sword aura swept forward.

The light dimmed, and the temperature dropped; the soldiers’ minds conjured visions of black clouds and icy frost.

“So strong!” Gao Jianli gripped his sword, sweat gathering on his brow.

Young Jing Ke smiled with delight, then sighed bitterly. He enjoyed dueling experts, but this visitor was not someone he could challenge.

Six-Fingered Black Knight snorted, blocking all sword auras, but only after letting everyone sweat.

Yan Dan’s respect for the Mohist master grew another degree.

Xuan Jian smiled and slowed his horse.

“The visitor is formidable! I didn’t expect the Northern King to have such a grandmaster under his command!”

Grandmasters were the heads of schools, rare in any faction.

Six-Fingered Black Knight worried that the Northern Army might be backed by some school. The wild tribes had no systematic training methods; their strongest were a handful of innate masters.

Unfortunately, experts were always proud and solitary; those desert masters had all been fed to the carriages in the end.

He’s from the Central Plains! Seeing his face, Yan Dan and the others grew even more suspicious.

Xuan Jian stopped twenty meters from the wall, as if oblivious to the archers, crossbows, and stone-throwers above.

“The Northern King Lin personally leads 120,000 cavalry to pay respects at your gate. Does Prince Dan of Yan dare to come out?”

Seeing Six-Fingered Black Knight’s sword, Xuan Jian dared not underestimate them.

He glanced at the Mohist leader for confirmation, and Yan Dan relaxed.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’d be glad to meet the Northern King outside the walls.”

With the Mohists and Yan’s heroes behind him, Yan Dan’s courage grew. His dashing, fearless manner surely captivated the beauties nearby.

He had always hoped to meet the Northern King, ideally to avoid unnecessary war.

The young heroine in the veil sighed quietly, paying no mind to the prince’s charisma.

Soon the gates opened wide. A hundred heavy cavalry charged forth, followed by three thunderous chariots.

Yan Dan, Black Knight, and Wuyang Jing stood on the first chariot, with many masters aboard the other two. There were even two veiled heroines—one mature, one youthful.

As the gates opened, Lin Shu stepped to the cockpit; Jingni, Moon Goddess, and Lesser Destiny Priestess followed.

“Halong, none of you are to make a move.”

Fearing his subordinates might disrupt his plans, Lin Shu gave instructions.

“At your command, my lord!” Halong, who had wanted to stand guard, had to stop.

Seeing the other side come with only one great carriage, Yan Dan felt reassured.

“What kind of creature is that—not a tiger, not a horse!”

Jing Ke, still smelling of wine, was full of questions.

Gao Jianli smiled and shook his head. He too had no idea what manner of beast this was.

“It’s alive, but incomplete! How strange!”

Black Knight shook his head, unable to tell if it was a machine or a beast.

The carriage moved slowly, yet its momentum was unstoppable. The heroes and knights grew solemn.

Especially the young heroine in the long dress, who fell into deep thought.

“He’s still so confident, so calm! That bastard!”

Seeing three beauties already at his side, the heroine’s feelings were complicated. She too had once followed at his heels every day.