My Sims of the Eastern Jin Dynasty

The mountains to the north.

Lu Da squatted on a rock all night, watching the firelight, but didn't dare to move.

He and his three hundred men, their eyes gleaming with a sinister light, had been hiding in the mountains for two days, enduring hunger and thirst.

The skinny monkey sent to the city to scout came scrambling back, panting heavily, his face a mixture of excitement and fear.

"Big...Big brother! Look...look carefully!"

The skinny monkey swallowed hard.

"Inside the city...it seems the Jin army won! Those Xianbei cavalry...they ran away! I saw their flags!"

"The Jin army?"

Lu Da suddenly stood up, his eyes filled with surprise and uncertainty.

"What about Chen Jiao? Has he joined forces with the Jin army?"

"I...I didn't see Boss Chen!"

The skinny monkey shook his head.

"The city is in chaos! Zhou Laosi... Zhou Laosi's men are looting! It seems they've taken over the large salt warehouse belonging to the Wang family in the north of the city during the chaos! I didn't dare get too close; I ran back as soon as I heard something was wrong!"

"Zhou Laosi... robbed the Wang family's salt warehouse?"

Lu Da was stunned for a moment, then his face was full of greed, then jealousy, and finally a fierce look of recklessness.

He turned around abruptly and roared at his men behind him, who were already starving and their eyes were practically glowing green.

"Brothers, did you all hear that?! That bastard Zhou Laosi dared to take advantage of the chaos and rob Wang's salt warehouse! Are we still going to starve in these mountains?!"

He waved his arms, spitting everywhere.

"The Xianbei have fled! The Wang family has fled too! Now it's our chance to make a killing! If Zhou Laosi could steal it, why can't we?!"

After Lu Da finished speaking, he drew a long sword from his side, the tip of which pointed down the mountain.

"Come to town with me! If you're even a second later, you'll be nothing but ashes!"

"Let's go into town! Rob the hell out of them!"

"..."

At this moment, at the largest dock in the south of the city, Xu Xianzhi put down the rough list of casualties with a heavy heart.

Looking at Han Yong, who was still unconscious beside him, he began to doubt himself.

Of the three hundred elite veterans of the Northern Army, less than one hundred and fifty are still able to stand, and all of them are wounded.

The salt farmers under Chen Jiao's command also suffered heavy casualties. If they hadn't fought desperately to cover the rear and guide the counterattack last night, relying on their familiarity with the streets and waterways, they probably wouldn't have been able to hold onto this foothold in the south of the city.

The people in the city... he dared not think about it.

The cost was too high.

The initial goal was to create chaos in the East China Sea and relieve the siege of Tan County. Now it seems that Deng Jing was indeed forced to retreat, and the goal can be considered to have been achieved to some extent.

But standing amidst these ruins, facing such devastating losses, Xu Xianzhi felt no relief whatsoever.

"Young master! Something terrible has happened!"

Chen Jiao's surviving bodyguard, his face covered in soot, staggered over and said urgently.

"Lu Da! Lu Da and his men have charged down from the North Mountain! They're fighting Zhou Laosi's men in the north of the city!"

Here we go again! Xu Xianzhi looked up, his eyes filled with disgust for the battle.

Internal strife, plunder, and fighting...

These people can only ever see the food right in front of them.

The dozens of veterans who were resting around him immediately gripped their weapons and struggled to stand up upon hearing the sound.

Even the salt workers and salt producers who followed them nervously grabbed the tools at hand.

Xu Xianzhe's gaze swept over the weary faces, over the wounded scattered on the ground, and over the lingering smoke of battle in the distance.

Last night's bloody battle proved their courage. Although Deng Jing retreated, it was only a temporary retreat. The main force of the Xianbei people could return at any time.

With the current remnants of the army, and with Lu Da, Zhou Laosi and their rabble constantly fighting amongst themselves, they simply cannot hold this place.

These pressing problems forced Xu Xianzhi to back down.

Preserving this last bit of strength, taking what can be taken, and returning to Xiaozhu Island at sea to try and reunite with the supervisor is the only way to survive.

He looked at the guard who was anxiously awaiting orders.

"Tell Lu Da,"

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he suddenly stopped, a cold, calculating thought flashing through his mind.

"Go tell Lu Da that the north of the city belongs to him!"

The guard was taken aback, thinking he had misheard.

"How he and Zhou Laosi fight is their business. Anyone who dares to cross the line and step into the south of the city will be killed without exception!"

The guard suddenly realized and nodded vigorously.

"Understood! I'll go and deliver the message right away!"

After the guards left, Xu Xianzhi immediately mobilized those who could move and issued several orders in succession.

He first persuaded the people who were willing to leave with us to gather at the dock.

Tell them that those who wish to leave can evacuate by ship, their fate in the hands of destiny; those who wish to stay should do as they see fit.

He then ordered the collection of all usable boats at the dock, regardless of size, and to be equipped with oars and paddles!

Finally, all the food, medicine, cloth, arrows, and iron that could be carried away from the southern part of the city were moved to the dock! Items that could not be carried away were destroyed on the spot.

He also instructed Chen Jiao's men to guard the southern border of the city and guard against disturbances by the mutinous troops in the north.

The orders were clear and logical. After a brief silence, everyone silently began to act.

East China Sea, Xiaozhu Island.

Two days.

Ships have been constantly heading towards this island.

Everything that could be taken from the south of the city, along with more than a thousand cooks, fishermen, women and children who were willing to follow, was transferred to the island in an orderly manner.

After Lu Dajiang and Zhou Laosi's men were all defeated, the south of the city was deserted, and not a single fishing boat remained at the dock.

After searching again, Lu Da retreated back into the mountains to the north without hesitation.

The next day, Xiaozhushan, a hillside facing the mainland.

Han Yong woke up.

The wounds on his chest and abdomen were properly bandaged, but his face was frighteningly pale.

He refused to be helped up, insisting on personally seeing his brothers off on their final journey.

There was no coffin, only a simple mat woven from bamboo on the island.

The fallen veterans were buried one by one on the hillside facing the mainland, along with Chen Jiao and his fellow salt farmers.

Xu Xianzhi followed silently behind, watching Han Yong stop at each grave.

This usually aloof and ruthless general's voice was now so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

He simply murmured the same words at each grave, as if giving instructions, or as if talking to himself.

"Brother, this is it."

"You guys are good... the scenery here is nice."

"Facing the mainland, so bright and open... Be content."

Finally, Han Yong slowly walked to the three adjacent graves.

In front of each grave was only one inconspicuous item. On the left grave was a well-worn leather wine flask, with half a broken spear stuck in the middle. On the right grave were several smooth, grayish-white stones picked up from the beach.

Xu Xianzhi also approached silently. He recognized the three men; they were his old brothers who had followed him through the dead bodies of the Beggars' Army.

But he noticed that Han Yong's gaze lingered on the wine flask for a long time, and his lips moved slightly.

"Old drunkard... is this enough for you to drink?"

He seemed to be speaking to the people in the grave, or perhaps just talking to himself. Without waiting for a response, his gaze turned to the broken spear in the middle.

"Iron Head, you've taken your forgetfulness to the underworld with you. Next time you're reincarnated, you'd better have a better memory!"

Finally, he looked at the stones, twitched the corners of his mouth as if he wanted to laugh, but at this moment he couldn't quite manage a smile.

"You're just picking up useless junk. Those rocks are like your fathers! This is great, there are plenty of rocks here!"

"Old wine vat, back when King Ran was around, you secretly hid wine. On the night of the breakout from Ye City, you even had half a sachet in your pocket, saying you'd rather die with a full stomach... but you spilled it all without taking a single sip."

He snorted.

"Once we get here, we'll fill you with the sea breeze—it'll be strong enough so you won't always complain about the weak liquor."

He turned toward the grave of the broken spear.

"Iron Head, how many times have I told you to tie the spear shaft tightly? And what happened? Chasing after fleeing soldiers, you stabbed them with the spear, and the spearhead flew off with your intestines in it, but the shaft was still in your hand! You almost lost your life trying to retrieve that spearhead!"

Han Yong shook his head.

"Now that's good, make sure you don't lose your livelihood down there."

Finally, there were those few stones.

"You're the kind of person who kills without batting an eye, yet you prefer to pick up round stones from the riverbank or roadside, saying they look pleasing. During the battle at Xiangguo Palace, which was so fierce, your backpack was still jingling..."

Han Yong lowered his voice and suddenly looked up at the sky.

"I'm the only one left..."

The sea breeze grew stronger, making the bamboo grove seem to weep.

Han Yong stopped speaking and just stood there.

The three old brothers did not die at the height of their glory when Ran Min's banners pointed, nor did they die in the tumultuous battles of the Beggars' Army, but they all perished last night.

Like many nameless old soldiers who eked out a living, he disappeared without a trace.

But there will always be people who remember them, remember their ridiculous "quirks," and remember how they looked at the end.

Xu Xianzhi did not break the silence.

He understood that what Han Yong was facing at this moment was not just the new grave in front of him, but the entire past that had been scattered and buried along the bloody road of the past twenty-odd years.

The wine sachet, the broken spear, and the stone are his memories; he was certainly not the first, but he was definitely the last.

After a long while, Han Yong sighed very softly.

He took one last look at the three new graves, then turned to Xu Xianzhi, and spoke as if to himself.

"Let's go, the living still have things to do!"

His steps were still slow due to the injury, but his back was straighter.