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Finest Servant Chapter 524
🕑 Added 2023-10-03 08:52:25 +0000 UTCChapter 524 Pointing the Sword at the Fortress
Miss Xu wore a subtle smile, her gaze filled with unspoken emotion as she looked at him. Her gentle words echoed endlessly in Lin Wanrong's ears, leaving him momentarily stunned. ‘Have I been foolish?’ he pondered. ‘Why have I taken on such a dangerous task? This isn't my style!’ Deep in thought, a sudden intuition washed over him. On the battlefield where home and country were defended and blood was shed, any hot-blooded man would be compelled to partake, driven by an innate yearning. Even for someone as crafty and opportunistic as himself, there was no exception.
Seeing that he had remained silent for a while, Miss Xu smiled gracefully. "This seems out of character for you. Are you truly prepared to leave behind all that is dear to you, to undertake such an uncertain task?"
Lin Wanrong sighed heavily and reluctantly replied, "Do you think I want to go? But some tasks have to be undertaken, and what's most hateful is that I happen to be the most suitable person for this job. What else can I do but resign myself to fate?" He shook his head, appearing wretched, but the meaning behind his words was crystal clear—he had made up his mind to go.
Xu Zhiqing stared blankly at him, memories flooding her mind. Their first meeting at the Jade Buddha Temple to escape the rain, their second encounter at the Jinghua Academy, discussing orchids and praising the natural world in the Grand Prime Minister Temple, casting nets in Weishan Lake to catch silver. Throughout their time together, he had been playful and cheeky, never missing an opportunity to take advantage. Now, on the battlefield, he revealed himself as a man of valor and steel, earning even the respect of the ferocious Turkic warriors. Bravado and flippancy—two extremes in one man, causing her both delight and concern. She wondered which version of him she preferred more.
Noticing Xu Zhiqing's fluctuating expressions—her face flushing, then paling, shifting between joy and worry—Lin Wanrong grew anxious. He hastily waved his hand before her eyes. "Miss Xu, what's wrong with you? Oh, you look like you've caught a cold and are shivering. Quickly, let me take your pulse."
"You're the one who's shivering," Xu Zhiqing gave him a disdainful glance, her cheeks flushing hotly. "I'm considering your proposal and trying to figure out whether you're telling the truth."
"Really?" Lin Wanrong grinned, focusing on her flushed cheeks. "Let me give you a tip, Miss Xu. When people lie, their ears turn red. If you don't believe me, feel for yourself."
Almost reflexively, Xu Zhiqing reached out to touch her earlobe but suddenly caught herself. "What are you doing? Trying to trick me again? You're the one with red ears—you have them all the time!"
Lin Wanrong looked at her with a smug smile. Xu Zhiqing hurriedly lowered her head, her ears burning like fire. For a moment, both were at a loss for words, yet the atmosphere was strangely tender.
"You should write to them sooner rather than later," Xu Zhiqing said softly, watching him clutch the portraits of his wives tightly in his hands, reluctant to let go. "The pain of separation is unbearable. Don't treat these good women lightly."
Lin Wanrong looked at her with a smile and said, "Of course I'll write back. Later, I'll go back, boil some water, get cleaned up, and then paint a portrait to send back home. It'll be the kind that Ning'er loves the most."
"Frivolous," Xu Zhiqing couldn't help but blush. Although he spoke ambiguously, she knew him well enough to guess what kind of portrait he would create. "Where did you hear about this route traversing the Helan Mountains?"
Switching to serious matters, Lin Wanrong stopped smiling. His expression became unusually solemn. "It doesn't matter where I heard it from, Miss Xu. I only ask you one thing: do you trust me or not?"
Xu Zhiqing neither nodded nor shook her head. She softly said, "I trust Ning'er."
The young lady spoke quite ambiguously. Lin Wanrong chuckled, "That's good enough. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. Given the current situation, whether this route exists or not, we have to take a gamble. It's much better than just waiting here for the Turks to attack. Besides, if I do manage to find it—"
Her face pale, Xu Zhiqing interrupted him softly, "What if it turns out to be a dead-end?"
A dead-end? Lin Wanrong paused, noticing her tear-filled eyes. Suddenly he laughed, "Don't worry, I won't die. My younger sister often says, 'Good people don't live long, bad people live for a thousand years.' I wholeheartedly believe it; I have a lot of good days ahead."
Seeing that he was resolute, with not a hint of reluctance in his smile, Xu Zhiqing finally bit her silver teeth, "Fine, I'll report to the Marshal right away. You will lead the troops from east to west through the Helan Mountains to launch a surprise attack on the Turks' stronghold in Bayanhot."
Lin Wanrong nodded, feeling a sudden weight on his shoulders. This eastern-western corridor through the Helan Mountains existed only in his memory; he had no confidence in actually being able to use it. But the situation was pressing. The Turkic cavalry was advancing, and in a few days, they would reach the foot of the Helan Mountains. The surprise attack on Bayanhot was both unexpected and the most effective strategy. Yet it was also fraught with danger and difficulty.
"Based on the nomads' current marching speed, they will reach the Helan Mountains in three days and engage with our forces. These two large canyons running from north to south are the last line of defense before Xingqing, and also a barrier for our troops. I assure you that within ten days of the nomads arriving at the foot of the mountains, the Helan Mountains will not fall," Xu Zhiqing firmly said, her eyebrows lightly raised.
Xu Zhiqing had to divide her forces to defend both the north and south canyons, leaving no room for laxity. On the other hand, the Turkic cavalry could concentrate their forces and choose one canyon to attack. To buy time for Lin Wanrong's surprise attack, Xu Zhiqing would have to defend the Helan Mountains for nearly twice as long as originally anticipated. The pressure she would be under was unimaginable.
What else could he say at this point? Lin Wanrong let out a deep sigh, "Thank you, Miss Xu."
Her eyes slightly red, Xu Zhiqing softly said, "You, always saying thank you for no reason. Is this fight against the Turks solely your family's concern?"
He chuckled, "That's true." Nodding, he added, "In that case, I'll go back to the camp to make arrangements. To save time, we'll set off early tomorrow morning."
Xu Zhiqing hummed in acknowledgment, not speaking further. As Lin Wanrong turned to leave, he was about to step out of the tent when he heard Miss Xu softly call, "Lin San—"
Lin Wanrong turned back to see Xu Zhiqing's eyes misty, blushes on her face. With delicate hands, she slowly removed her helmet, revealing her lush, raven-black hair that draped like the finest silk in the Jiangnan region, gently cascading over her shoulders.
Snowy skin, phoenix eyes, willow brows, cherry lips—her figure was like a willow tree gracefully bending beside a lake. Stripped of her military attire, Xu Zhiqing was alluring and graceful, her youthfulness eclipsing the harshness of the desert winds.
"Miss Xu, you—" Lin Wanrong licked his dry lips, staring in disbelief.
Xu Zhiqing shyly chuckled, "Do I look good?"
"You look wonderful," Lin Wanrong nodded, still dazed.
Xu Zhiqing looked at him gently, "Do you remember the story of the buried sand I told you?"
"Yes, I remember," he said.
Tears began to well up in Xu Zhiqing's eyes as she softly murmured, "Every grain of sand that falls from the sky represents a lifetime of longing from me. Hence, the vast Taklamakan desert was born."
Hearing the story of buried sand once more, Lin Wanrong was emotionally stirred. Looking at Xu Zhiqing's tear-streaked face, he found himself at a loss for words.
Xu Zhiqing suddenly laughed gently, yet heartbreakingly, "Lin San, can you promise me one thing?"
"Of course," Lin Wanrong eagerly nodded, "not just one thing, even a hundred things, I would promise."
"I only need one." Xu Zhiqing gazed at him, her long eyelashes trembling, a tear drop silently falling. "Please remember, you must come back! Otherwise, who will see me in my prettiest dresses? And where shall my body be buried?"
Lin Wanrong was lost, staring at Xu Zhiqing's crystal-clear tears and pure, beautiful smile. It was as if air filled his heart, making him feel weightless. For a moment, he forgot himself entirely.
...
As the sun set, a white horse raced through the sandy winds and evening glow, heading straight for the right-wing camp. Its shadow stretched long in the waning light.
"General Lin has returned!" Du Xiuyuan stood up abruptly, his eyes filled with urgency.
Hu Bugui moved even faster, dashing forward a couple of steps to grab the reins of the horse that had just entered the camp and slowed down. "General, did the advisor agree?"
Lin Wanrong dismounted and nodded lightly, "She agreed."
"She agreed?" Hu Bugui was overjoyed, "Excellent, this time the Turks won't know what hit them."
Gao Qiu squinted at him and said, "Brother Lin, what's the matter? Why are your eyes red?"
"Oh, I rode fast, and the sandstorm was quite strong." Lin Wanrong's mind flashed back to the captivating gaze of the beautiful female strategist, a mix of sweetness and heartache filling him. He sighed softly, shaking his head to dispel these thoughts. "Brother Hu, did you find any information on what I asked you to investigate?"
Hu Bugui nodded, taking out an aged piece of sheepskin map from his chest and handing it to him, "I visited a few remaining hunters in the Helan Mountains in the past two days. According to them, there are legends of people crossing the mountain range and even seeing golden fur in Bayanhot. But these are old tales from the hunters, unverifiable. I found this sheepskin map in one of their homes; the arrow on it seems to point in the northwest direction, so I brought it back."
The sheepskin map was ancient, its markings drawn with charcoal. Apart from a few mountains indicated by triangles, most of it was illegible. However, as Hu Bugui had said, the direction of the arrow pointed northwest. Lin Wanrong looked at it a few times, comparing it to the map in his memory. It seemed vaguely familiar, but its blurriness far exceeded its clarity.
At the very least, the map proved that some brave hunter had once ventured in that direction. Crossing the Helan Mountains from east to west wasn't impossible. This thought settled Lin Wanrong's mind somewhat.
"Brother Hu, have all the brothers been assembled?" He stashed the sheepskin map inside his robe and asked in a low voice.
Hu Bugui gave a thumbs-up, excitement filling his words. "Eight thousand brothers, handpicked by me. Every one of them a warrior. They've all heard that this mission is fraught with danger, yet not a single one has flinched."
"Our Great Hua has never lacked for heroes!" Lin Wanrong patted him on the shoulder, a gratified smile on his face.
Du Xiuyuan watched his smile and snorted in dissatisfaction. "General Lin, why can Old Hu go while I can't?"
"Brother Du, should we even be discussing this?" Lin Wanrong's expression was indifferent. "The goal of this raid on Bayanhot is military strength, and my right-wing army needs a man of wisdom and strategy. Who else could fulfill this role but you? Moreover, your valor and intelligence during the Battle of Wuyuan have already proven your worth; you have nothing more to prove."
Lin Wanrong had earned his authority through hard-fought battles. Who among his subordinates would dare to defy him? Du Xiuyuan might have looked disappointed, but he accepted the order nonetheless.
The night before departure was always the hardest. Facing a journey with an uncertain outcome, who could rest easy? Gently caressing the portraits of his wives, remembering the tender moments he had shared with each, Lin Wanrong's emotions swirled, a mixture of joy and sorrow, and an inexplicable sense of oppression gripped him.
He wanted to write a family letter, featuring a sketch of himself bathing freely in the wilderness, but his hand seemed to have a mind of its own. The scene that emerged was a young general atop the towering Helan Mountain, gripping a long sword, howling in defiance—a vivid portrayal of his current state of mind.
He sealed the sketch in an envelope. Looking up, he saw that dawn was breaking. Gao Qiu, Hu Bugui, and eight thousand brothers were already armed and waiting for him.
Faces young and old alike were filled with admiration and confidence for General Lin. It was an incomparable spiritual force, stirring Lin Wanrong's soul. Spurring his horse, he shouted, "Target—northwest foothills of the Helan Mountains, Bayanhot! Move out!"
The crisp sound of horse hooves shattered the pre-dawn stillness of the Helan Mountains. A column of robust Great Hua soldiers meandered along the eastern foothills, their forms gradually disappearing into the distant valleys.
The melancholy strains of a Morin khuur drifted through the air like a desert mist, accompanied by a mysterious, heart-wrenching female voice:
"The winds of my homeland caress my face;
The scent of the grasslands fills my heart;
Herds of cattle and sheep roam,
While shepherds sit astride their horses,
Their long songs escorting you into the distance…"
The lamenting melody resonated through the hearts of those who heard it.
