Dream of the Red Chamber: From a Border Ruffian to a Capital Tyrant

"Life and death are preordained, wealth and honor are determined by Heaven!"

"Since Vice General Jia chose this path, it was his decision, and it is his honor!"

"You don't need to stand here crying like women!"

"I believe that even Jia Lang in heaven wouldn't want to see you all looking like such cowards!"

After a simple, blunt, yet somewhat forced encouragement, Jia Ren abruptly tossed his cloak aside, turned, and strode towards the council hall.

There's no time for sadness!

Scouts have just reported reliable intelligence: the Xiongnu's grain supplies have been burned!

This is fantastic news, but it also means that the Huns are about to turn into a pack of completely insane mad dogs!

He had to make immediate arrangements to prevent the Xiongnu from resorting to desperate measures and launching a final, frantic counterattack!

Standing in front of Li Tiedan, Xu, the military officer, saw Jia Ren walk away, and a complex emotion flashed in his single eye.

He looked at Li Tiedan kneeling on the ground, shook his head, his expression a mixture of helplessness and worry.

Then, he gripped his waist knife tightly, turned around, and quickly followed Jia Ren's retreating figure.

This is not because Jia Ren is cold-blooded and heartless.

In terms of personal relationship, Jia Ren and Jia Lang were closer than anyone else present!

But he was a general!

He is the pillar of stability at Yanmen Pass!

If the commander-in-chief shows weakness, the entire army will be terrified!

If he showed even the slightest weakness or grief in front of his soldiers, the morale of the army at Yanmen Pass would collapse!

If the morale of the army collapses, Yanmen Pass will surely fall!

At that time, Jia Lang's death will truly be meaningless!

Watching Jia Ren and General Xu leave, Li Tiedan and the others endured the excruciating pain in their hearts and struggled to get up from the ground.

They wiped the tears and dirt from their faces and began mechanically arranging for the surviving soldiers to be taken to nurses.

This battle was too tragic.

Of the two thousand elite troops that Vice General Jia led out, some died and some were crippled. In the end, only less than a hundred people returned alive!

These brothers, who crawled out of piles of corpses, were just like Li Tiedan; their eyes were lifeless, like puppets whose souls had been taken away.

Despite it being a great victory—burning the Xiongnu's supplies and achieving unparalleled feats—the men looked like they had suffered a defeat. Heads drooped, and they dragged their heavy steps back to the camp like walking corpses.

After sending his wounded brothers back to their tents, Li Tiedan, with the remaining few guards, walked slowly and heavily toward Jia Lang's residence.

They were Jia Lang's personal guards, whom Jia Lang carried out one by one from piles of corpses.

In this harsh and cold place, life is as worthless as grass.

Children from poor families like them are given names by their elders who want them to be easy to raise, such as Dog Egg, Second Dog, Iron Ox, or other lowly names.

But ever since they followed General Jia, they felt like they were living like human beings!

Of the twenty-man personal guard squad that set out for this battle, only ten remain.

I returned to that familiar little courtyard and pushed open the wooden gate.

The remaining ten men looked at the empty training ground and the few plum blossom stakes worn smooth by repeated use, and memories of the past involuntarily surfaced in their minds:

The general maneuvered on the stakes, and they cheered below;

The general, holding a large bowl, fought with them for meat, laughing heartily.

The general taught them to read, scolding them for being stupid...

The laughter from that time, echoing in the clear sky, still resonates in my ears.

But now, things have changed, and people are separated by death.

Such a scene will probably never happen again in this lifetime.

"General... Ah!!!"

Li Tiedan could no longer hold back. He collapsed onto the cold ground with a thud, slamming his hands against the earth, his fingernails digging into the dirt, drawing blood.

The others sat together, embracing each other and weeping silently, their tears soaking their clothes, making the scene all the more poignant in the quiet of the night.

.........

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Yanmen Pass was still shrouded in a light morning mist at 7:15 AM, and the chill was penetrating to the bone.

On the city wall, the armored guards stood like javelins, their hands on the battlements, vigilantly scanning the endless, withered grassland beyond the pass, not daring to even blink.

Suddenly, a sentry caught a glimpse of a figure with disheveled hair and covered in blood-red armor, walking unsteadily yet with unwavering determination towards the city gate through the mist below.

With each step the man took, the heavy scraping sound of his armor was particularly jarring in the quiet morning.

"Halt! Who goes there?!"

The sentry's heart tightened, and he roared, instantly drawing his powerful bow to its full draw. The sharp wolf-tooth arrow was aimed directly at the figure, his fingertips turning slightly white from the force of the pull.

"It's me! Jia Lang!!"

A voice, though hoarse and weary, still resounded like a great bell, pierced through the morning mist and soared into the sky!

"Jia Lang?"

"My God! It's Vice General Jia!!"

"Quickly! Open the city gates! General Jia is back!!"

The soldiers on the city wall were stunned at first, but after carefully recognizing the blood-stained yet still angular face, they burst into a thunderous cheer.

It was a kind of ecstatic joy of surviving a catastrophe; the soldiers couldn't even wait for the winch to turn before they rushed madly toward the city gate mechanism.

"General Jia, please wait a moment, I will open the city gate for you immediately!"

A captain-like officer leaned out, his voice trembling with excitement. But he was a veteran after all, and his eyes were not completely blinded by ecstasy. Instead, he cautiously looked around again to make sure that there was no ambush of Hunnic troops behind the demon-like figure and that he was indeed alone. Only then did he respond respectfully in a loud voice.

Upon hearing this, Jia Lang nodded slightly, a hint of relief flashing in his bloodshot tiger eyes.

Then, he slowly raised his head and looked up at the three gilded characters "Yanmen Pass" standing majestically in the morning breeze above the city wall.

He subconsciously tightened his grip on the heavy hammer, which was already covered in blood and flesh, with a piece of flesh still clinging to the spikes on its head.

He stood there quietly, like a statue. No one knew what this lone hero was thinking. Perhaps he was reliving the carnage of the previous night, or perhaps he was relieved to have finally returned home alive.

Half an hour later.

"Squeak—"

The heavy iron city gate slid open slowly to both sides with a sickeningly loud thud.

As soon as the gap, barely wide enough for one person to pass through, appeared, the soldiers who had been waiting behind surged out like a flood bursting its banks, their eyes filled with tears, scrambling to squeeze towards Jia Lang.

Looking at the excited and distorted expressions of his brothers who had shared life and death with him, Jia Lang's cracked and peeling face twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth, revealing a smile that was uglier than crying, but came from the bottom of his heart.

Since ancient times, soldiers have been the most simple and lovable people in the world.

From their pure, admiring, and caring eyes, Jia Lang could clearly feel that the joy of these rough men was burning hot and came from the bottom of their hearts.

"Hehe...Do you have any water to drink?"

Jia Lang licked his cracked lips as a sharp pain shot through him, his voice hoarse as if he were rubbing coarse sandpaper, carrying an indescribable thirst.