Chapter Fifty: A Deed of Merit

Night had fallen. Within the grand camp of the Southern Tang army, the logistics encampment was busy preparing meals, filling the air with the aroma of steaming rice. The entire camp was bustling with activity.

Li Zhenggu wore a grave expression. Just moments ago, Gao Shensi, commander of the Shenwu Army, had hurried over to inform him that two scouting parties sent out earlier had yet to return. Both belonged to Commander Zhou Hongzuo’s third division of the Shenwu Army, including two junior officers and four deputies.

Although there had been no major battles with the Wuyue forces these past few days, the skirmishes between scouts were fierce. The Tianxiong Army had lost around thirty men, and the Shenwu Army had suffered over a dozen casualties. Death and injury on the battlefield were commonplace, but today’s patrol was different. Yang Lian was someone the Prince of Qi had repeatedly entrusted to Li Zhenggu, and as a supporter of the Prince, Li Zhenggu naturally favored Yang Lian. Moreover, Yang Lian had left a deep impression on him—not merely because he shared a name with the former crown prince, but for his vigor, decisiveness, and lack of hesitation. With proper nurturing, he could become a fine commander.

Li Zhenggu’s main mission in this campaign was to attract the attention of Wuyue, forcing them to divert forces northward to Suzhou and thus alleviate the pressure on the Tang in Fujian. That was why he marched slowly and ostentatiously, ensuring everyone knew of their movements. Of course, the emperor’s orders could not be spoken aloud, so Li Zhenggu kept these thoughts to himself. Additionally, at the Prince of Qi’s behest, he intended to provide Yang Lian an opportunity to earn military merit and experience, to be of future use to the prince. But these plans were secrets he shared with no one.

Yet now Yang Lian, along with Lin Renzhao and Chen Tie, had gone out and not returned. Could it be they’d encountered the Wuyue and met with misfortune? At this thought, Li Zhenggu’s face darkened.

Truth be told, Li Zhenggu might not care much about Yang Lian himself, but he could not afford to disregard the Prince of Qi. The emperor had thoughts of naming the prince as crown brother, and if he ascended the throne, Li Zhenggu, as his subject, would be in a precarious position if he had offended him.

His face like iron, Li Zhenggu rose and declared, “These soldiers are all heroic sons of the Great Tang. If they have truly disappeared, it must be the work of the Wuyue. Generals Gao and Zhu, send out more scouts at once. No matter what, we must find their tracks.”

Gao Shensi, not wishing harm upon his subordinates and well aware of Yang Lian’s connection to the prince, immediately cupped his hands and answered, “At your command.”

Zhu Kuangye was somewhat displeased but did not show it. In his eyes, the loss of a mere junior officer was not worth such a commotion. In truth, his dissatisfaction stemmed from grievances with Yang Lian over incidents of the past few days.

Li Zhenggu began, “Generals—”

Before he could finish, a soldier rushed in, breathless. “Commander, they—they’ve returned!”

“What? Who’s returned?” Li Zhenggu was momentarily stunned.

Gao Shensi furrowed his brow in disbelief. “You mean Yang Lian, Lin Renzhao, and the others are back?”

The soldier tried to speak but was too out of breath, so he simply nodded vigorously.

Gao Shensi said no more and strode out. Li Zhenggu, regaining his senses, hurried after him, his heart slowly easing at the thought that Yang Lian had finally returned.

Zhu Kuangye snorted coldly, a faint smile on his lips as he strolled out—eager for the spectacle to come.

Within the Southern Tang camp, Yang Lian advanced step by step, gripping his long blade. His shoulder bore a deep, gaping wound, blood still seeping through the bandages. Though it had been wrapped, the bleeding continued, soaking the cloth and presenting a ghastly sight.

Gao Shensi hurried over and, seeing Yang Lian, exclaimed, “You’re wounded!”

“It’s nothing,” Yang Lian replied through clenched teeth. However much it hurt, he would endure it—after all, he was a man.

Li Zhenggu, arriving, was startled by Yang Lian’s condition. Behind him, Lin Renzhao, Chen Tie, and the others were all bloodied and wounded. Some supported each other, limping, blood dripping and staining the ground crimson.

Zhu Kuangye observed their state with inward delight. Pity, he thought, that Yang Lian, though so gravely injured, had not been killed by the Wuyue—he was lucky indeed. Still, returning with his men in such a state, surely Li Zhenggu could not shield him any longer. Zhu Kuangye glanced at Yang Lian again, a hint of schadenfreude in his expression.

Yang Lian, steadying himself with his blade, saw Li Zhenggu and Gao Shensi and reported, “Commander, General Gao, I was ordered to patrol and encountered the Wuyue forces en route.”

Seeing that Yang Lian, though wounded, spoke clearly, Li Zhenggu breathed a sigh of relief and quickly ordered, “So long as you’re safe. Someone, fetch the army physicians to tend to their wounds at once!”

Yang Lian continued, “Commander, of the twenty men under myself and General Lin, six fell in battle today, three are severely wounded, and the rest lightly injured.”

Zhu Kuangye approached and asked, “You had twenty men, all mounted, yet you fought the Wuyue to the death and lost so many? Why?”

Yang Lian narrowed his eyes, casting Zhu Kuangye a cold look, but replied with a smile, “As soldiers, it is our duty to charge forward bravely, not to cower in fear of death.”

Zhu Kuangye sneered, stepping forward. “Insolence!”

“And what do you mean by that, General Zhu?” Yang Lian replied, arching an eyebrow, his tone calm.

“I am a commander, and you are but a junior officer. How dare you act so presumptuously before me?” Zhu Kuangye pressed his advantage, eager to see Yang Lian punished. Even if Li Zhenggu wished to protect him, at least he could vent his spite.

“General Zhu, you may hold a high post, but you command the Tianxiong Army, while I, though junior, serve in the Shenwu Army. You have no authority over me. If you wish to command me, wait until you become a Shenwu Army commander yourself!” Yang Lian retorted coldly.

“Moreover, for a soldier, to return shrouded in horsehide is the highest honor. Do you disagree, General Zhu?” Yang Lian pressed.

Gao Shensi, hearing this, glanced at Zhu Kuangye and said, “Yang Lian, you have done well. A soldier’s duty is to die for his country. If all were as timid as some, the nation would be lost.”

Zhu Kuangye’s eyes blazed. He, too, had fought on battlefields for years, and heard enough of such jibes. Now mocked by Yang Lian and Gao Shensi, his anger flared. “As scouts, your first duty is to return with information. If everyone acted as recklessly as you, how would vital intelligence ever reach us? If you carried important news, would not the consequences be dire?”

Gao Shensi, unwilling to argue further with Zhu Kuangye, merely snorted. After all, as colleagues and the commander’s chief aides, they could not afford open discord on campaign.

Yang Lian, with a cold laugh, strode to his horse, dragged Fan Mengling down and threw him to the ground. “Commander, this man is Fan Mengling, aide to Qian Wenfeng, the Military Governor of Central Wu.”

“Oh?” Li Zhenggu’s interest was piqued. An aide, though not a high official, would know many secrets, and Qian Wenfeng would not send him out without cause.

Gao Shensi laughed heartily, his gaze sweeping over Zhu Kuangye, whose face was stricken with shock—making Gao even more satisfied. After his laughter faded, Gao said, “Yang Lian, you have performed great merit this day—my faith in you was not misplaced.”

Li Zhenggu circled Fan Mengling, scrutinizing him as though he were livestock. “Fan Mengling, as Qian Wenfeng’s aide, you must be well acquainted with the situation in Suzhou. You know what I want.”

Fan Mengling turned his head away, refusing to answer.

Yang Lian smiled slightly. “Commander, this man is stubborn, but if you trust me, leave him to me. Within three days, I will make him talk.”

Fan Mengling snorted, brimming with hostility toward Yang Lian as well.

Li Zhenggu nodded. “You captured him; he is yours to deal with.”

“Thank you, Commander,” replied Yang Lian.

Just then, the army physicians arrived. Yang Lian insisted they tend to his comrades first, ignoring his own injuries for the moment. Li Zhenggu and Gao Shensi, however, would not allow this, and after some debate, an old physician came to treat Yang Lian.

The blood on his wound had begun to clot, but the crude cloth bandage had to be removed. The old physician was startled by the sight—a chunk of flesh was gone, exposing white bone beneath. Even with his years of experience, he found it unsettling.

Having removed the cloth, the old physician prepared to clean the wound. Yang Lian signaled for someone to fetch strong liquor—a flask he had brought from Jinling. Gritting his teeth, he uncorked it and poured the liquor over the wound. The searing pain made him clench his jaw, but he uttered not a sound.

“What are you waiting for? Clean the wound,” Yang Lian ordered, his words pulling at the injury and forcing a hiss from his lips.

The old physician snapped to attention, quickly cleaning the wound with well water laced with coarse salt for disinfection. After applying medicine and binding it tightly, the physician, drenched in sweat, offered a few more instructions before leaving.

Yang Lian’s arm ached terribly. It would be at least a month before it healed fully, but fortunately, it was not his dominant hand, so the impact was less severe. Though he looked a fright, covered in blood, much of it was not his own—he had only one serious wound and was exhausted, hence his wretched appearance. After being cleaned up, he looked much better.

After resting for half an hour, Yang Lian regained his strength and spirits. Li Zhenggu sent over a jar of wine and several small dishes as a reward. Yang Lian summoned Lin Renzhao, Chen Tie, and the others, ordered extra food, and together they ate and drank heartily, the atmosphere becoming lively. The fallen comrades were forgotten for the time being—death was a constant companion in war, and grief was fleeting; one had to look ahead.

After drinking, exhaustion overcame them all, and they soon fell into a deep sleep.