Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

The armored army marched swiftly into the city, instantly forming a disciplined battle formation. Their dark armor filled the field of vision, gleaming coldly in the rising sun, like a vast, icy pool sinking into the ground. In an instant, they crushed and dispersed all the fierce and malevolent aura that had permeated the city all night.

Wei Liao's cold gaze swept over the chaotic army, and he raised his hand and waved it lightly.

"Archers—load the bows."

Now, it's time to give them a good thrashing of arrows!

The archers on both flanks, who had been poised for a long time, raised their arms in unison, drawing their bows to their fullest extent, and locking onto the enemy with their chilling arrows.

"Fire the arrows—!"

At a command, the strings suddenly rang out, and the rustling sounds that cut through the air suddenly intertwined.

Dust mixed with blood and foam flew everywhere. The prefect's troops, who had been charging forward like madmen, were instantly thrown into chaos. Terrified, they only cared about retreating and fleeing in a sorry state. They dared not approach the city gate even half a step.

Seeing several enemy soldiers in the distance raising long swords and viciously pouncing on Hu Kui and Shen Liang, who were lying on the ground and powerless to fight back, Wei Liao's eyes sharpened. He took the longbow from his waist, nocked an arrow, drew the string, and aimed in one smooth motion.

With a soft whistle, a sharp arrow pierced the throat of the leading enemy soldier, followed by several others who were also shot dead. No one dared to approach the two men again.

The situation reversed in an instant.

Wei Liao's elite troops pressed forward with overwhelming force, their shields arrayed, spears extended, and archers providing continuous pressure from both sides, forcing the enemy to retreat step by step.

The black-armored torrent was like a moving iron wall, crushing over the enemy inch by inch, dividing, swallowing, and strangling the scattered pursuers.

Song Yun was caught up in the chaos and had no choice but to retreat step by step, watching helplessly as his soldiers were cut down like straw, his swords and spears were torn apart like paper, and the iron-gray, mountain-like torrent of armor rolled over him inch by inch.

His face was as white as paper, his lips trembled, and a few broken, indistinct hissing sounds came out of his throat, like a chicken being strangled.

"No...it's impossible..." His voice was broken and incoherent. "Where did these reinforcements come from...how could they have arrived so quickly..."

No one answered him.

Just then, dawn broke in the eastern sky, and the first ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, falling squarely on Hu Kui and Shen Liang's faces.

The two people, slumped on the ground, struggled to raise their heads.

Through the blurry vision, the enemy soldiers who had just been fighting hand-to-hand and were ferociously killing were now screaming and fleeing in disarray, retreating rapidly like a receding tide.

The orderly and silent elite black-armored warriors steadily advanced, their armor forming layers of steel and shields, firmly protecting Hu Kui and the others at the center of the formation.

The armor clashed, and iron boots pounded into the pool of blood, splashing up dark red water. Wei Liao strode through the shield formation, looking at the group of loyal and brave men who were fighting to the death and were covered in wounds. His brows furrowed, and his eyes were filled with solemn emotion and respect.

He turned his head and solemnly instructed his personal guards:

"Quickly escort all the righteous warriors to the rear and provide them with proper medical treatment. There must be no negligence whatsoever."

"promise!"

The guards responded and immediately stepped forward.

They tried their best to avoid the gruesome wounds on the people's bodies, but the warriors' skin was torn and their wounds were intertwined, with scabs and tattered clothes stuck tightly together, leaving them nowhere to hide.

The slightest touch or tug reopened the already clotted wound, and dark red blood slowly seeped out, staining the tattered clothes.

No one uttered a sound, not even flinching. Some were already in a daze, yet their hands still gripped their weapons tightly, blades facing outwards, their bloodshot eyes filled with vigilance and murderous intent as they faced those who were helping them.

Seeing this, Hu Kui, forcing himself to breathe, his voice hoarse and broken, struggled to raise his voice and said:

"Gentlemen... the delegation's reinforcements have arrived; they are our own people, so please do not harm them by mistake."

The familiar voice pierced through the drowsiness and reached the ears of the wounded soldiers.

The tense crowd, whose eyes had been strained to the extreme, trembled slightly. Their stiff knuckles, which had been gripping their weapons tightly, slowly loosened, and the longswords and broken swords clattered to the ground. Their taut will completely collapsed, and everything went black as they collapsed from exhaustion and fainted.

The guards felt even greater respect for the wounded heroes, and moved with even more gentle care, carefully lifting each of them onto a wooden frame and retreating to the rear.

Hu Kui and Shen Liang were also helped onto the wooden frame. Shen Liang lay half-reclined on the frame, and as they were being carried away from the bloodbath, he turned his head with difficulty and gazed into the distance at the center of the chaotic army.

Song Yun stood frozen amidst the fleeing soldiers, his face ashen, roaring in disbelief. Gone was all his previous arrogance and ruthlessness; only the panic and despair of a cornered man remained. Like a fish pinned to a chopping board, he was still desperately thrashing his tail, but could no longer make a ripple.

The deep-seated hatred that had been building up in his eyes suddenly surged up, and Shen Liang struggled to prop up his weak upper body with his elbows.

The guards were alarmed, fearing he might collapse from exhaustion on the stretcher, and immediately stopped in their tracks.

Shen Liang raised his eyes, gazing at Wei Liao's tall and solemn back in the distance. His breath was so weak it seemed as if it would dissipate with a breath, his voice hoarse and bloodshot, concealing a heart full of deep-seated grief and indignation, and the blood feud of countless dead souls. He pleaded with difficulty, each word deliberate and painful:

"General... Song Yun has slaughtered loyal and virtuous people and wreaked havoc in Chen County. His hands are stained with the blood of the people and his comrades... Do not let this traitor die too easily... Do not let him get away with this."

Upon hearing the sound, Wei Liao paused slightly.

He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping across the entire scene—first landing on Shen Liang's blood-stained face, yet his head stubbornly tilted back, his eyes unwavering, then moving to Hu Kui beside him, and finally sweeping over the group of wounded soldiers lying on wooden frames, covered in sores, some critically injured, yet still waiting quietly for an answer.

"...Okay, I promise you."

Wei Liao's gaze was deep and focused. He nodded emphatically, his voice as firm as a mountain:

"Okay, I promise you."

He stepped forward, standing tall and straight in the dawn light, and declared in a loud voice, each word ringing out firmly:

"My righteous comrades, your mission has been accomplished! I will truthfully submit a memorial to the King, requesting commendations, relief, and exoneration for you!"

His gaze swept over the bloodied faces, and his tone grew increasingly solemn:

"Leave the rest to us. You all just focus on recovering. I, Wei Liao, hereby swear that I will restore order to Chen County and deliver justice to you all!"

Qingming Festival... Justice...

Shen Liang stared at him, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, his teeth clenched so tightly that his cheeks bulged out.

Countless times he found himself in dire straits, facing seemingly insurmountable odds, yet he never bowed his head in submission, never yielded, never retreated; his entire family was slaughtered, his home destroyed, and he bore the burden of a blood feud, yet he gritted his teeth, shouldered the burden, and vowed to avenge his family to the death, never showing the slightest weakness or despair; he never bowed his head to swords and axes, nor was he moved by blood soaking his bones—

But at this moment... his eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

After a moment, Shen Liang suppressed a sob in his throat and spoke in a hoarse voice:

"...Thank you, General."

Wei Liao turned away and said no more.

He also suppressed a surge of deep anger and murderous intent within him, and raised his sword, swinging it with a sweeping motion:

"Capture the bandit leader alive and wipe out the remaining rebels! Follow me and kill!"

"kill--!"

The deafening shouts of battle broke through the thick smoke and echoed throughout the entire city.

The group of righteous men lying on the wooden frame were slowly carried away by their personal guards. As they turned around with difficulty, the last thing they saw was the black-armored army advancing like a flood, rushing straight towards the remnants of the chaotic army, and sweeping away all obstacles in their path.

You can rest assured...

The people on the wooden frame almost immediately fainted after they managed to escape from the city gate.

Preparations were already underway outside the city. Xia Wuqie, along with several accompanying physicians, quickly went to meet them, squatted down beside them, took their pulses, examined their eyes, checked their wounds, stopped bleeding and treated sores, and bandaged their wounds.

The medicine box was opened, and silver needles, strips of cloth, and medicinal powder were laid out one by one. Several people dispersed and each went about their own business.

And Physician Lü...

They remained close to Zhou Wenqing, their faces solemn, not daring to leave his side for even an inch.

This situation is somewhat tricky.