Rise of a Lonely City: From Exiled Prince to Ruler of the Nine Provinces

It was the third year of Xuanji, late spring and early summer.

Springtime in the Nanling Mountains is humid and muggy, and as temperatures rise, miasma becomes active again in the low-lying valleys and deep forests.

But for the remnants of Zhao Hui's tribe, struggling to survive in the vast mountains bordering Baiyuexu and Minyue, what was more terrifying than the miasma was the ever-approaching hunger, disease, and the "mountain demons" that were like maggots clinging to bones and could penetrate anywhere.

Since late autumn and early winter last year, Zhang Yi's "Mountain Demon Camp" has been infiltrating the mountains in batches, and this asymmetrical hunt has begun.

These well-equipped, well-trained, and equally adapted to the mountainous environment Xia troops no longer advanced in large formations, but instead split into small teams of dozens or even a dozen people, like the most cunning hunters, taking advantage of the complex terrain to appear and disappear unpredictably.

They do not engage in direct combat, but specialize in harassment.

The relatively secluded valley camps that Zhao Hui's remnants managed to find were often set ablaze by rockets in the dead of night, or attacked by cold arrows and poisoned darts while fetching water or hunting. Sentinels were found dead at dawn with blowguns stuck in their throats, dying silently on their posts.

Their meager provisions, painstakingly collected and stored, were frequently discovered being destroyed or stolen.

The fragile connections that had been painstakingly established with some small Yue tribes in the area were frequently severed—the soldiers of the mountain demon camp would sometimes deliberately leave some Xia army markings, or place some dubious "evidence" on the Yue people they attacked who were trying to trade with Zhao Hui, framing the enemy tribes and provoking conflict.

Zhao Hui's remaining troops, like frightened birds, were forced to constantly relocate.

Each relocation meant abandoning more supplies, exposing ourselves to a treacherous environment teeming with miasma and poisonous insects, and also meant more people falling behind, getting sick, and dying.

The original force of nearly two thousand men was reduced to less than eight hundred by spring due to the depletion caused by miasma, raids, and escapes. The men were all emaciated, wounded, and their morale was at its lowest point.

What's worse is the intensification of internal conflicts.

The remnants mainly consist of three groups of people: the core veterans of the "Black Owl Army" that Zhao Hui brought from Yingcheng, about three hundred people, who are his absolute loyalists and the strongest fighting force;

The group consisted of about two hundred soldiers, including defeated soldiers of the puppet Zhao regime and private soldiers of local powerful families, who had been gathered during the retreat from Jiangnan. They were undisciplined and each had their own ulterior motives.

There were also a few desperate outlaws and bandits who were coerced or bribed by Zhao Hui along the way, as well as a small number of warriors from the Shengyue tribe who were allied with him, numbering about a hundred. This group was the most unruly and difficult to control.

Initially, under strong external pressure, these people were able to barely unite around Zhao Hui.

But as the situation became increasingly difficult, with extreme shortages of food and medicine and dwindling hope, the already fragile alliance began to crack.

The crux of the disagreement lies in the next step.

The Black Owl Army veterans, led by Zhao Hui and his trusted generals, harbored the deepest hatred and were also the most resolute in their will.

They advocated continuing southward, penetrating deep into the heart of the Minyue region, seeking alliances with larger and more powerful Yue tribes, even at the cost of "borrowing land to declare oneself king," to first establish a foothold before planning for the future.

Zhao Hui often brandished his brother's lost sword, roaring at his exhausted troops: "The Xia dogs killed my brother, this hatred is irreconcilable! Although Minyue is wild and remote, its mountains are deep and its forests dense, making it difficult for the Xia army to enter! As long as we persevere, contact the other Yue tribes, and wait for the Xia dogs to become complacent, we may be able to rise again and avenge my brother!"

However, the "realists," represented by those who had gathered together defeated soldiers and private armies, especially a few minor leaders, were increasingly desperate.

They watched helplessly as their companions died one by one from malaria, poisoned arrows, and starvation, seeing no hope whatsoever.

Among them, a former local strongman and private army leader named Hu Sanba was the most dissatisfied.

He only followed Zhao Hui south to save his life and for money. Now that he's almost out of money and about to lose his life, what's the point of seeking revenge?

He privately complained many times: "Revenge? What are we going to do? With just seven or eight hundred of us starving, sickly wretches? Go further south? Is that a place where people can survive? I've heard that further south, the miasma is even more poisonous, and the savages are even more ferocious. Going there would just be suicide! It's better... better to find an opportunity to break up the group and find our own way to survive!"

As for the few desperate criminals and small tribal warriors who were recruited, they were simply opportunists.

They followed Zhao Hui because he had gold and silver and they could rob things from him.

Now that Zhao Hui is in dire straits, the promised benefits have become empty promises, and their loyalty has naturally faded rapidly. They have begun to plot how to slip away with their remaining "capital" or even defect to a more "powerful" side—such as the "mountain demons" who constantly harass them and seem to be stronger and more organized.

Zhao Pan, the youngest son of Zhao Ben, was a thirteen-year-old boy who, after experiencing the horror and hardship of his country's destruction and his family's loss, was already haggard and like a frightened bird.

He became Zhao Hui's nominal banner, but also a symbol of "burden" and "source of trouble" in the eyes of some.

Some people muttered privately, "Bringing such a little brat along is too conspicuous; Xia Gou will definitely keep a close watch on them!"

The conflict stemmed from a failed "deal".

Zhao Hui sent Hu Sanba with the last batch of gold and silver to contact a Yue tribe called Black Tiger Cave, which was said to be larger and located deeper in the mountains, in exchange for food and permission to pass through its territory.

Hu Sanba was unwilling to go in the first place, but he went anyway. As a result, not only did the deal fail, but he was also ambushed by "mountain demons" on his way back. Most of his men were killed, and his gold and silver were stolen.

Hu Sanba himself fled back in a sorry state, having been shot in the shoulder with an arrow.

Back in his hiding place, a cold and damp limestone cave, Hu Sanba's resentment finally erupted.

In front of the numerous remaining soldiers, he pointed at Zhao Hui's nose and cursed, "Zhao Hui! How long are you going to drag us along? To the King of Hell? Look! Look at our brothers! How many of us are still breathing? We're out of food, out of medicine, and ahead are the cannibalistic Yue, behind us are the deadly Xia dogs! You still want to go south? The south is a bottomless pit! Do you want us all to die so you can go to the underworld and join your dead brother?"

Zhao Hui flew into a rage: "Hu Sanba! You dare to undermine morale? Believe me, I'll kill you right now!"

Come on!

Hu Sanba drew his knife, and his henchmen cheered, "I've been wanting to die for a long time! Following you is worse than death! Brothers, what do you say? Anyone still wanting to go to that hellhole, come with him! Anyone who doesn't want to die, come with me! We'll break up and each rely on our own abilities; maybe we can still find a way to survive!"

"Yes! Let's break up!"

"I'm not leaving! If I leave now, I'll die!"

"Hand over that brat, and maybe Xia Gou will spare our lives!"

Chaos erupted in the crowd. The Black Owl Army veterans shouted and tried to quell the unrest, but the pent-up resentment of the defeated soldiers, private soldiers, and desperados erupted like a volcano, and they all echoed Hu Sanba's sentiments.

The warriors from several small tribes watched coldly, their hands already on the hilts of their swords.

"They've rebelled! They've all rebelled!" Zhao Hui trembled with rage and drew his sword to kill Hu Sanba.

Hu Sanba's eyes also turned red, and he brandished his knife to meet the attack.

The two men fought fiercely in the narrow cave, their subordinates fighting for their respective masters, resulting in a chaotic melee.

The sounds of clashing swords, roars, and screams filled the air.

Zhao Pan was so frightened that he huddled in the corner, trembling with fear.

In the midst of the chaos, no one noticed a strange glint in the eyes of a taciturn old soldier of the Black Owl Army who had followed Zhao Hui for many years.

His name was Wang Ben. He was an old friend of Zhao Ben when he raised his army and was considered loyal to the Zhao brothers.

But after months of fleeing, the desperate situation, watching his comrades fall one by one, and especially seeing Zhao Hui dragging these few hundred remaining soldiers down an even more desperate path for that vague "revenge" and "rise again," his heart turned cold.

Although Hu Sanba's words were harsh, they struck a chord with many people.

Continuing to follow Zhao Hui will only lead to death.

Just as Zhao Hui forced Hu Sanba back with a sword and was about to press his advantage, Wang Ben suddenly rushed out from the side, holding a short dagger in his hand. Without the slightest hesitation, he plunged it into Zhao Hui's back!

Zhao Hui's body stiffened abruptly, and he turned around in disbelief to see a numb and resolute face.

"General... I'm sorry. The brothers... don't want to die anymore."

Wang Ben muttered something under his breath and suddenly drew his dagger. Blood spurted out.

Zhao Hui, the last valiant general of the pseudo-Zhao regime and Zhao Ben's loyal cousin, ultimately did not die under the swords of the Xia army, nor from the miasma and poisonous insects, but fell victim to the betrayal of his own people.

He stared wide-eyed, filled with endless resentment and astonishment, and slowly collapsed.

The cave fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone was stunned, including Hu Sanba, who had just been fighting.

Wang Ben tossed aside his dagger, raised his blood-stained hands, and shouted in a hoarse voice, "Zhao Hui is dead! Those who want to live, lay down your weapons! Let's... surrender!"

"We surrender! We surrender!" Hu Sanba was the first to react, dropping the knife in his hand.

It was as if dominoes had been toppled, with the clanging and clattering of weapons hitting the ground filling the air.

The veterans of the Black Owl Army looked at their commander's corpse, then at the menacing crowd around them who had long lost the will to fight, and finally, filled with grief and despair, they laid down their weapons.

Zhao Pan was dragged out from the corner. This last descendant of Zhao Ben was now covered in tears and too frightened to speak.

The internal strife ended with Zhao Hui being murdered and the remaining forces deciding to surrender.

Hu Sanba and Wang Ben became the temporary leaders. They sent out two captured Yue warriors who could speak a little Chinese, carrying Zhao Hui's head and a letter of surrender written in blood with humble words. They cautiously walked out of the mountains where they were hiding and headed towards the Xia army's controlled area, which they guessed.

A few days later, Zhang Yi, who was resting in a valley, received two trembling Yue people and a bloody head, along with a bloodstained cloth strip, brought back by his scouts.

The strip of cloth was written crookedly: "We, the sinners, have gone astray and followed the rebel chieftain Zhao Hui. Now that the rebel chieftain has been executed, the rest of us are willing to surrender. We beg the Heavenly General to spare our lives and take us as your servants, so that we will never rebel again. We attach the head of the rebel chieftain Zhao Hui as proof. Zhao Pan and the remaining 371 people await punishment and surrender at the Valley of Broken Souls."

Zhang Yi carefully examined the head and confirmed that it was indeed Zhao Hui.

He immediately relayed the news to Chen Dao.

Chen Dao did not take the news lightly.

He ordered Zhang Yi to lead the elite "Mountain Demon Camp" to closely monitor Broken Soul Valley to prevent any trickery.

At the same time, envoys were sent to make contact, verify the authenticity of the surrender, and order the surrendered persons to lay down their weapons in batches, leave the valley, and be incorporated into the army.

Several days later, escorted by the gleaming crossbows and blades of the "Mountain Demon Camp," the last remnants of Zhao Hui's forces, including the ashen-faced Zhao Pan, as well as leaders such as Hu Sanba and Wang Ben, staggered out of their final hiding place.

These people were all ragged, emaciated, and their eyes were filled with fear, numbness, and a humble desire to survive.

Zhao Hui's head was preserved with lime and, along with Zhao Pan, was loaded into a prison cart.

The remaining surrendered followers, after being screened, were executed on the spot if they had blood on their hands or committed heinous crimes.

The remaining ordinary soldiers were scattered and incorporated into hard labor camps, and sent to various places to build roads and dig canals to atone for their sins through labor.

Thus, the last organized remnant of the once powerful and influential puppet Zhao regime, which had entrenched itself in the south and later colluded with the Xiao Rong brothers to launch a rebellion, finally vanished after experiencing escape, malaria, pursuit, and internal strife.

Its leader, Zhao Hui, did not die on the battlefield or from malaria, but fell to the blade of his own people, meeting his end in an ironic and tragic way.

The lineage of Zhao Ben has been extinguished, except for his young son Zhao Pan, who was taken to the capital and whose fate remains unknown.

The mountains of Nanling have temporarily returned to their former tranquility.