Priceless: A widow with a baby asks the prince to marry again

When the 20,000 militiamen learned that they would be incorporated into King Kang's army, most of them were immediately filled with joy!

Many people set out because they were dissatisfied with the atrocities committed by Chu Shiqi's private soldiers. Some of them suffered greatly from them, but they were also worried about the path they had chosen and were prepared for a path of no return.

Although Qin Tao was the Prince of Changtai and a member of the royal family, he was not qualified to inherit the throne... But King Kang was different. Who in the world was more qualified than him to be the emperor?

However, although King Kang accepted these people, he did not let these 20,000 militiamen march together. Instead, he ordered them to wait for the later army in place and then catch up.

Everyone understood that they had to equip themselves with weapons, armor, etc. before going to the front line... But what made the veterans of the Qin family army uneasy was that Prince Kang only wanted to take Qin Tao with him, and no one else was allowed to follow!

"Young General..." Deputy General Zhao was filled with unease. General Qin had kept them here, so they had to protect Qin Tao, the Qin family's only son, even if it meant sacrificing their lives! King Kang had issued a military order, and unless they were determined to rebel, they couldn't disobey... And with only a few dozen of them, disobeying would likely backfire!

"It's okay, my cousin won't do anything to me." Qin Tao was not a fool. His father and Chu Shihuan were acting strangely now, and King Kang wanted him to join the army alone. He was probably going to use him as a hostage to restrain his father... But Qin Tao also thought that he was not an enemy of King Kang, so what was there to be afraid of if he was honest?

...

Worried about being swept up by the aggressive southern expeditionary army, he rushed towards the misty Jiangnan.

This should be the season for lotus fields and water chestnuts and boat rides, but the air is filled with a tense and solemn atmosphere.

The Eighth Prince set up his headquarters in Jinling City, where aristocratic families abounded. There was an endless stream of prominent families coming to visit him. Not everyone could see him. One had to have some connection with the Eighth Prince's grandfather, the Prime Minister's family, to be able to enter the temporary palace.

But in this most fertile land, what family, worthy of being called an aristocratic one, wouldn't have some connections? Looking at the scene of joyful singing and dancing in the palace, it seemed as if the Eighth Prince had already firmly established himself on the throne.

However, the news that arrived was like a death warrant—King Kang was leading his troops! Bringing with him the illustrious reputation of the Second World War in Northern Frontier, he was marching straight to the south of the Yangtze River!

The elegant courtyards of the aristocratic families were no longer as tranquil as before. Letters of demand, each stamped with the Eighth Prince's imperial seal, fell like snowflakes on the desks of the various family heads. The language became harsher and the demands more demanding: Provide grain! Provide money! Provide men!

In fact, every family had already started planning for this. There were already more than 200,000 domestic slaves, tenant farmers, and able-bodied men who were conscripted with money!

The various families had also heard the news, knowing that Prince Kang's army would not exceed 100,000, yet the Eighth Prince remained dissatisfied, endlessly demanding more troops. Perhaps the noble families had complaints in their hearts, but they had already invested so much manpower, material resources, and financial resources. Wouldn't opposing now be a waste of everything?

As a result, the net for conscripting able-bodied men was woven more densely and tightened by each aristocratic family.

The setting sun, like spilled blood, soaked the crumbling earthen walls of the widow's house. Footsteps stopped at the door, and shadows swallowed up the last bit of light in the house.

The woman's head shot up, and she ran into the house. With her calloused hands, she anxiously pulled up the young man who was reading by the firelight from the stove. She whispered urgently, "The village chief is here with some elders! I'm afraid they're here to recruit soldiers again! Go hide!"

However, it was too late. A dozen people, young and old, entered the dilapidated farmyard uninvited.

The leading elder, wearing a half-new silk shirt and stroking his neatly trimmed goatee, sighed helplessly, "The imperial court's conscription order has arrived, and we're in a hurry. The clan has agreed that your family should send someone out."

The young man pulled his mother behind him and angrily retorted, "What do you mean by 'giving away'? The Great Xia law stipulates that if a household has two or more men aged seventeen to fifty, one of them must enlist in the army! I'm the only male in my family! If I go, what will my mother do..."

The old man frowned, raised his hand to interrupt, and his tone suddenly turned cold: "How dare you! What are you talking about? The clan has taken care of you, an orphan and a widow, for so many years. Now that something's happened, it's time for you to repay the clan!"

"repay?"

The young man's chest heaved violently, his eyes practically spitting fire. "Who took over my family's two mu of land? Has they ever given us a grain of rice or a penny? For all these years, my mother and I have survived by relying on my mother's mending and laundry, and me chopping wood and doing odd jobs! Now you're talking about 'taking care of me'! Well, even if you want me to go, where's the silver written in black and white on the notice? Five taels! Bring it to me, and I'll go!"

He held out his hand, palm upward, and stared at the old man intently.

The old man's face suddenly showed anger, but then he sneered and slowly took out a purse from his sleeve. He weighed it in his hand: "Silver for the An family? I have it. But if I give you all five taels, I'm afraid you will be cheated by outsiders. How about this..."

As he spoke, he stuffed the purse back into his sleeve, took out only a few thin copper coins, and casually threw them on the dusty ground at his feet. "Here, spend it sparingly. It's enough for your mother to live on."

The few clan members behind him let out a few suppressed sneers.

"You! You're robbing me!" The young man's eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the muddy copper coins on the ground. He felt a surge of blood rushing to his head. He wanted to pounce on her, but was held tightly by the woman.

"Son! Don't!" the woman cried. Two fists were no match for four hands. How could her son alone defeat more than a dozen people? She turned and knelt in front of the old man, kowtowed heavily on the ground: "Master! Elders! Please! It doesn't matter if I live or die, just don't take my son away!"

"Shut up!" the old man growled impatiently. He stopped talking to the mother and child and gave an order to the tribesmen behind him: "Take them away!"

Several tribesmen immediately rushed over, pushing the woman who was trying to stop them to the ground. Their hands, like iron pincers, tightly gripped the boy's arms, holding him firmly. The boy struggled desperately, digging deep holes in the mud with his feet, and roared, "Robbers! You are nothing but blood-sucking bandits! Where is the law? Where is justice?!"

The woman got up crying and rushed forward to tear at the tribesman, but was kicked hard. She staggered and fell to the ground, hitting her forehead on the stone steps, and blood instantly seeped out.

The boy was dragged out of the courtyard, and could only watch as his mother collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from her forehead, one hand reaching out to him in vain...

In the makeshift military camp, the stench of sweat from dozens of people mixed together, making it suffocating.

The boy was roughly pushed into a crowded shack. The people around him were of different ages, heights and sizes, but they all wore patched cloth clothes, had pale faces and thin bodies, and their eyes were either numb or resentful.

For several days, the boy remained silent, completing the drill like everyone else, enduring the officers' scolding and beatings. Worry for his mother and anger at this unprovoked disaster surged in his heart. At night, the shack was filled with suppressed coughs, sighs, and low curses.

One evening, the cooks brought in several buckets of murky vegetable soup. The young man squatted in a corner, silently sipping the barely oily soup. Nearby, an older cook, his face stained with grease, stirred the bottom of the buckets with a spoon and whispered to another worried-looking recruit, "Did you hear about the latest news?"

"What news? Is there anything more disgusting than this rotten soup?" the recruit asked unhappily.

The cook looked around warily, his voice lowered to a whisper. "The Eighth Prince's rise to that position wasn't legitimate! His grandfather, the Prime Minister... was ruthless! To pave the way for his grandson, he drugged the late Emperor in the palace! That's how the 'Imperial Edict of Succession' came about!"

The young man's hand holding the broken bowl shook violently, and he didn't even notice the turbid soup spilling. He suddenly looked up and stared at the cook.

The cook was startled by the sudden flash of brilliance in his eyes, then curled his lips and continued muttering, "Who knows if it's true? Anyway, that's how the rumor spread. It's said that there's an old eunuch in the palace who testified... Hey, that old eunuch was buried with the late emperor and crawled out of the imperial mausoleum a while ago! The late emperor must have been unwilling to rest in peace and let him out!"

"What are you talking about?!" A small leader passing by shouted loudly, and whipped the whip in his hand lightly!

The cook quickly explained, "Nothing! It just rained these past few days, and the soup went bad in a day!"

The little leader snorted, not bothering to investigate further, and only left a warning: "Don't gossip, otherwise you will be punished by military law!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" The cook responded repeatedly and went to work with his neck hunched.

But those words, like a red-hot iron, burned deeply into the boy's heart, circling wildly in his mind...

In the shack where snoring sounds were heard one after another, the young man suddenly woke up and sat up abruptly!

So that's how it is! It turns out these impoverished people, forcibly conscripted here, were not only betrayed by their clans and exploited by the aristocratic families, but were also driven to their deaths by a traitor who had murdered the regicide and usurped the throne, his hands stained with the blood of the late emperor! To fight against the one who truly deserved to sit on the throne!

He looked around at the miserable people in this shack who looked just like him! Like him, they had been dragged into this quagmire by lies and power!

An unprecedented courage and determination broke through the fear and numbness, and he woke up the sleeping people one by one! Even if some people cursed him after waking up!

When everyone in the shack woke up, the young man's hushed voice rang out: "Did everyone hear the news?! We're suffering here, being whipped, for what? Because of that thief who killed our own father and stole our brother's position! Because of those elders and officials who withheld our settlement money and sold us like animals!"

The shack instantly fell silent, and the dissatisfaction of being woken up turned into fear and anxiety towards the usually silent boy.

The young man pointed at the pitch-black darkness outside the shack's curtains. His voice trembled with excitement, yet was remarkably firm. "Prince Kang is the eldest legitimate son! He is the rightful crown prince! He has come with his troops to enforce justice! What about us? Two hundred thousand of us, forced to take up arms, to block Prince Kang's path, to serve as scapegoats for the Prime Minister's usurping nephew!"

The young man's eyes were blazing with fire. "Who are we working for? For a thief who murdered his father! For those clans and families who have squeezed us dry!"

"Think about my parents back home! Think about the land that was stolen! Think about the money that was embezzled!" The young man almost shouted, "If King Kang's cavalry really arrives at the front, we will be the first meat shields pushed forward to die! Our deaths will be worthless! Rather than this..."

He looked around at the faces around him whose expressions gradually changed. There was shock, fear, but more of it was ignited anger and long-suppressed resentment.

The young man lowered his voice, yet it carried an undeniable strength: "How about... when the horn sounds and the formation moves... we turn our weapons around! Let those high-handed masters taste the bitter fruit of their own sins!"

The boy's words, like a spark, fell into a pile of dry wood already filled with humiliation and despair. The fear remained, but the desire to survive and the overwhelming hatred of injustice instantly overwhelmed it. Some people subconsciously clenched their fists, some bit their lips, and some nodded slowly and firmly.

On the banks of the mighty river, the two armies faced each other, and the murderous atmosphere was so oppressive that it made people breathless.

On the west bank, the army led by King Kang numbered no more than 20,000 men, but they stood in a solemn formation, like a forest. Each soldier wore armor or cloth appropriate to their military branch and position. They stood in complete silence, their swords and spears gleaming coldly in the rising sun.

King Kang was dressed in black armor, reining in his horse in front of the battle formation, his eyes calm and indifferent, staring directly at the noisy and huge "legion" on the opposite bank.

Not far behind King Kang, Qin Tao also rode a warhorse, clad in iron armor, though unarmed. Surrounding him were a few elite soldiers. Qin Tao knew that the clash between the two armies he had been looking forward to would likely be one where he wouldn't be able to use his skills... And now, he no longer had that desire. He simply hoped for a positive outcome from this situation, which he couldn't quite grasp, though he had no idea what that would be.

On the east bank of the Yangtze River, it is said that there are more than 300,000 troops deployed, with almost no end in sight. But if you look closely, you will find that it is like a pot of boiling, chaotic porridge.

In the center and front were about 50,000 fierce soldiers wearing messy leather armor and with fierce eyes. They were the private soldiers raised by the Eighth Prince before he ascended the throne. They had been disguised as bandits for years. Although they were wearing uniforms at this moment, they could not hide their bloodthirsty banditry. They were restless, like a group of hyenas eager to bite their prey.

On both sides of the front, the largest number of men, were over 200,000 conscripted men. Some wore cloth armor, some leather, their weapons a jumbled mess. Their sallow, gaunt faces were filled with fear, bewilderment, and deep resistance. Like lambs to the slaughter, they formed into battle formations under the orders of their officers and supervisors.

Thousands of elite soldiers with better swords and armor rode fat and strong horses, but their formation was scattered at the back. Looking at their unseasoned faces, one could tell that they must have lived a life of luxury. At this moment, some of them were in high spirits, while some had flickering eyes, and it was obvious that they all had their own thoughts and considerations.

After a brief standoff, a personal soldier of King Kang with a loud voice rode out and unfolded a scroll of manifesto. His voice was like a loud bell, and every word clearly crossed the surface of the river and fell into the ears of the 300,000-strong army!

"The false emperor, Chu Shiqi, poisoned his father and the emperor, forged an imperial edict and stole the throne! This is his first crime!"

"Appointing a treacherous minister, disrupting the government, and persecuting loyal officials! This is his second crime!"

"Exploiting Jiangnan, forcibly levying heavy taxes, and driving the people around like dogs! This is their third crime!"

"Now, His Royal Highness Prince Kang has received the mandate of Heaven! He leads the royal army south to crush the rebels! All of our Great Xia people who avoid the royal army will be forgiven! Those who abandon evil and join the light, and slay the evil thieves, will be rewarded generously and promoted!"

The manifesto was like thunder, instantly creating a silent wave among the lower-class soldiers on the other side of the river. Many men who were forcibly conscripted clenched their weapons, exchanged glances, and their eyes were filled with bloodshot from the struggle.

The whips of the supervisory team behind him were crackling in the air, temporarily suppressing the noisy discussions.

A man also came out and read a gorgeous manifesto.

"Beat the drums! Cross the river and attack! Crush them!"

The general in charge of commanding the army gave the order. Although he climbed to a high position because of his family connections, he boasted that he had read many military books. Now he had an army of 300,000 and would definitely not lose to King Kang who had only 20,000 soldiers!