General, you should rest now; the lady is even more ruthless.

Upon hearing this, the group's expressions changed, and they immediately got up and rushed over.

When they arrived, they saw people all over the ground clutching their stomachs, writhing in pain.

"How could this happen?" someone asked in a panic. "Why is everyone suddenly experiencing diarrhea?"

"Where is General Yang? Where is General Yang?" Shi Hui was not as lost as the others, but his tone was full of anxiety.

A soldier ran over and said, "General Shi, General Yang is inspecting the food."

A group of people rushed to the cookhouse camp.

They almost bumped into General Yang who was coming from the opposite direction.

"What's going on?" Luo Xingyuan frowned.

General Yang was already red-faced and visibly anxious: "General Shi, strategist, I was just about to come find you. Tell the brothers not to drink water or eat food; there's something wrong with the spring water!"

"What? Spring water?" Luo Xingyuan was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized, "Damn it, it's the imperial court. They poisoned the spring water!"

Upon hearing this, everyone gasped.

"Is it just diarrhea with no other symptoms?" someone asked.

General Yang shook his head: "Only diarrhea."

"Thank goodness it wasn't poison." Shi Hui breathed a sigh of relief.

"But if drugs are added to the water, wouldn't they be unable to use it themselves?"

Luo Xingyuan shook his head, his face pale: "No, the imperial court's people are stationed upstream, while we are downstream. As long as they put the poison downstream of the mountain spring, only we will be affected."

He clutched his head in frustration and slowly squatted down on the ground: "Damn it, how could I be so stupid! How could I not have thought they would tamper with the spring water!"

"Damn it!" Shi Hui cursed angrily. "The imperial court is resorting to such low-class methods."

"We're not top-tier, but we can still win," Luo Xingyuan said weakly.

"Alright, this isn't the time to talk about this." Seeing that Shi Hui and Luo Xingyuan were about to start arguing, someone quickly stepped in to stop them.

"That's right, strategist, this isn't your fault." General Yang also looked full of regret.

"It was my fault for not checking the spring water properly. With war about to break out, such a huge oversight has occurred. I should atone with my death!"

"No!" Shi Hui stopped him from raising his sword.

"General Yang, none of us expected the court to use such a treacherous tactic, so we can't blame you. Besides, now is the time when we need manpower, and we absolutely cannot afford to lose any of our brothers in vain."

In this moment of crisis, Shi Hui remained calm and directed the troops methodically: "General Yang, we should still have some medicine in our reserves. Quickly take it all out and distribute it to the brothers."

"I'll go right away," General Yang said.

"General Huang, go and count how many brothers are still able to move. Also, tell everyone that they can't eat or drink anything else, so that they can conserve their strength as much as possible."

"General Qian, the situation is chaotic right now. You should take some men and guard the entrance to prevent the enemy from taking advantage of any openings."

"Yes, General Luo."

Everyone has left.

Shi Hui squatted down and patted Luo Xingyuan, who had been blaming himself and holding his head.

"Don't be sad, my strategist. Now is not the time to be sad. This is not entirely your fault."

“No,” Luo Xingyuan replied, “This is my fault. As the strategist, I didn’t expect the enemy to use such a strategy. This is my dereliction of duty. Now so many brothers have fallen into the trap, and we have lost our only advantage of numbers.”

He raised his head, his face ashen: "Shi Hui, we might really be finished."

Shi Hui was stunned. He had never seen such a desperate expression on his good brother's face before.

He actually understood it in his heart.

Or rather, they were both prepared from the very beginning.

Against the General Who Protects the Nation, let alone 10,000 men, even if there were another 10,000, they might not be able to win.

However, he still chuckled twice: "Luo Xingyuan, what are you saying? Don't forget, we still have a way out. General Feng and the others from the third team are still guarding the back pass. If we can't beat them, can't we just run away? Winding through these mountains, who can outrun us?"

Luo Xingyuan looked up at him, somewhat bewildered.

Shi Hui forcibly pulled him up from the ground, as if he were forcibly preserving the last glimmer of hope in his heart.

"Don't be discouraged, Luo Xingyuan. You're with me, we'll stand together until the very end!"

"Okay," Luo Xingyuan said expressionlessly, but his eyes were slowly brightening.

He picked up a knife from the ground and gripped it tightly: "If we can't win, we run; if we can't run, we fight. In short, we will fight to the very end."

Shi Hui looked at him and smiled.

"General Shi!" General Huang and his men called out as they ran over from afar. "We've done the count, and there are less than seven thousand brothers who are still capable of fighting."

General Yang also returned: "The medicine has been distributed to the brothers. Although there are only a few hundred doses left, it's better than nothing."

"Very good!" Shi Hui smiled and nodded, patting everyone on the shoulder.

"Look, isn't the situation better than we expected? We have seven thousand against five thousand, so we still have a numerical advantage. Overall, we still have a higher chance of winning."

"Yes, it's harmless."

"Exactly, and there's medicine too."

Everyone was initially frightened by the diarrhea, but after considering the consequences, it didn't seem like a big problem.

The atmosphere eased slightly.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Before we knew it, the moon had quietly set, and the eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the first light of dawn.

But the people in these mountains can't see them. They sit together in groups of three or five, and every now and then a different group goes out on patrol.

Everyone's faces were solemn and calm; no one spoke, as if they were awaiting final judgment.

Everyone held their own weapon.

Luo Xingyuan was also holding a knife.

……

"They've broken in!"

After an unknown amount of time, a single sentence struck like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

In an instant, everyone stood up, forming a dark mass in the distance.

The sounds of fighting grew louder as they approached, mingling with the echoes from the cave, creating a deafening roar.

"Brothers! Kill!" Shi Hui drew his sword and shouted.

At the same time, Twelve and Thirteen had already rushed into the cave. Twelve flew ahead and killed the messenger with a single blow, pointing his sword forward: "Charge!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

While the fighting was raging over there, Nineteen and Sixteen were leading five hundred troops of the capital's garrison, moving through the mountains.

They hurried along a very secluded path, and after running for more than half an hour, they finally saw shadowy figures ahead, which seemed to be people.

"You've finally arrived," a man on horseback, his face covered, spoke, followed by thousands of guards.

Sixteen and Nineteen ran up to him and knelt on one knee: "Greetings, Your Highness."