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

The army continued northward, like a giant black dragon, slowly swimming into the increasingly desolate heart of the grasslands.

The initial vigor began to be replaced by a dull anxiety amidst the daily treks, the unpredictable weather, and the seemingly endless emptiness.

Especially for soldiers who had never ventured deep into the grasslands, this land was too vast and too quiet.

Apart from the sounds of the wind, horses' hooves, and the occasional birdsong, there was only deathly silence.

The horizon is always in the distance, and the scenery we see today seems no different from yesterday or the day before.

The sense of direction becomes blurred here, and it is easy to get lost without an experienced guide and a compass.

The more pressing pressure comes from supplies.

Although Prince Sir John Hill, stationed in the rear, organized laborers and supply trains with astonishing efficiency, establishing makeshift supply points along the army's route, the long supply lines remained vulnerable.

The oxcarts and horse-drawn carts carrying provisions struggled to move across the rugged meadows, their speed far lagging behind that of the lightly armed cavalry.

Xiao Chen strictly ordered that no one be disturbed. He mainly dealt with or "requisitioned" the scattered herding tribes he encountered along the way, but this was far from enough.

Strict rationing was implemented in the army, and dry rations, dried meat, salt, and even drinking water all needed to be carefully calculated.

"Your Majesty, the army's grain reserves, if we don't take into account supplies from the rear, will only last for twenty days based on current consumption."

The newly appointed transport commissioner, a lean and wiry official from the Ministry of Revenue, had to report the same bad news to Xiao Chen every day: "The further north we go, the less water there is. The few small lakes we found have salty water, which is fine for horses, but people will get diarrhea if they drink it. Some soldiers are already complaining, saying, 'We haven't seen a trace of the Di people, and we're just wasting our food supplies.'"

Xiao Chen always listened silently until the end, then asked, "When will the next batch of supplies arrive from the Duke of Yingguo's side?"

"It will take at least five days, and the quantity... will probably only be 70% of what we expected. The losses along the way are too great, and we've also been harassed by small groups of Di cavalry."

Xiao Chen nodded and waved for him to leave, his face revealing neither joy nor anger.

But the atmosphere inside the central command tent grew heavier day by day.

Even the most valiant Zhang Meng couldn't help but stay behind after a routine military meeting, saying in a muffled voice, "Your Majesty, we're wandering around this grassland like headless flies. The main force of the Di people is avoiding battle. If this continues, we'll collapse on our own without even fighting. Perhaps..."

A fierce glint flashed in his eyes. "Take your men and spread out to search those Di tribes! Loot them! Cattle, sheep, women, and valuables—they're all supplies!"

"No."

Xiao Chen resolutely refused, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable authority: "Our army is a royal force, not bandits. To plunder tribes is no different from the Di people. Moreover, it would alert the enemy, forcing scattered tribes towards Duji, thus bolstering their strength. Furthermore..."

His gaze swept over Zhang Meng. "Do you think you can just plunder those tribes? Grassland tribes live nomadically, following the water and grass. Your army, scattered, is more easily harassed by their small elite forces, leaving you exhausted. This is exactly what Duji wants."

Zhang Meng opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing Xiao Chen's calm and composed gaze, he swallowed his words and clasped his hands, saying, "This humble general was reckless."

Xiao Chen walked to the tent entrance and lifted the thick felt curtain.

Outside, the setting sun, like blood, dyed the boundless withered grass a bleak golden-red.

The cold wind was like a knife, stinging my face.

Looking out, the sky and earth were vast and desolate, and apart from his own lone army, there seemed to be no other living creatures.

Where exactly are Duji and his royal court? Like a drop of water, they have merged into this vast ocean.

Is it really going to end in failure? Or will this grassland slowly drain our lifeblood?

No.

Xiao Chen slowly clenched his fist.

He believed in Han Lie, and in those night watchmen who infiltrated the grasslands like ghosts.

They are his eyes, his hounds roaming in the darkness.

They must be searching, they must be waiting.

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats approached from afar, breaking the tranquility of dusk and the suffocating silence of the central command tent.

The sound of horses' hooves stopped abruptly outside the main tent's perimeter, followed by suppressed shouts and the sound of tokens being checked.

A moment later, Zhao Tie, with a solemn expression and a heavy smell of blood and the chill of travel, strode into the tent, followed by two "blood men" who were almost unrecognizable as human.

Those were two night watchmen.

Their fur coats were tattered and covered in blackened bloodstains and mud. Their faces bore the exhaustion of long hours without sleep and the cracks from wind and sun exposure. Their lips were dry and bleeding. But their eyes shone brightly in the dim tent, a lingering light from extreme tension and excitement.

One of them had his left arm haphazardly bound with torn strips of cloth, seeping with dark red blood, while the other walked with a limp.

"Your Majesty! The Night Scout Squad, C7, Captain Wang Wu and Deputy Captain Zhou Ping, reporting for duty!"

The two knelt down with a thud, their voices hoarse as if sandpaper were being rubbed together.

Xiao Chen's heart skipped a beat, but he remained calm on the surface: "Speak."

The team leader, Wang Wu, took out a small bamboo tube wrapped in oilcloth and sealed tightly from his body and raised it high above his head with both hands.

The bamboo tube was also stained with dark red blood.

Zhao Tie took it, carefully checked the sealing wax seal, and only after confirming that it was correct did he use a knife to pry it open and take out a roll of silk cloth as thin as a cicada's wing, covered with secret writing. He then applied a special medicine to it, and the writing slowly appeared.

He glanced at it quickly, his pupils contracted slightly, and handed it to Xiao Chen with both hands.

Xiao Chen took it and, by the light of the tallow candle, quickly began to read.

The tent was so quiet that only the occasional crackling of the candle wick and the heavy, weary breathing of the two night scouts could be heard.

The writing on the silk was small and dense, recording intelligence obtained at the cost of lives:

"...Confirmed, the Chanyu Duji...the royal court...has not fled far...to the upper reaches of the Onon River, on the southern slope of Langjuxu Mountain...a sheltered, sunny valley with excellent water and grass..."

"...Ten days...before, gather...tribal leaders and dignitaries...to hold the 'Naadam'...wrestling, horse racing, archery...to celebrate the spoils of the southward raid...to commend the meritorious tribes..."

"...The royal court's defenses...are tight on the outside but loose on the inside...The elite wolf riders have mostly been sent to...the south, to guard against our main army, or...to plunder and not yet returned...The troops remaining at the royal court...are about eight thousand, distributed in the outer perimeter...The core Golden Tent area...is guarded by less than two thousand, and...due to the grand event, many are lax..."

"...The leaders of various tribes...gathered with their personal guards and tributes, before the golden tent...piled up with countless riches, cattle, and sheep...The gathering has lasted for seven days...Last night...the drinking and revelry continued until late..."

"...Your subordinates...approached and observed...three men...two were killed...only then...we discovered...the location of the golden tent...and...the general deployment...this map..."

Behind it was a simple map hastily drawn with charcoal, marking the approximate area of ​​the royal court, the location of the golden tent, the outer sentry posts, the gathering place of the horses, and other key information.

Xiao Chen's fingers gently brushed over the four characters "Langjuxu Mountain", and then over words such as "Naadam", "tight on the outside and loose on the inside", and "drinking and revelry".

He seemed to see a hundred miles away, in that lush valley with bonfires blazing and crowds of people. The nobles of the Di people were drinking mare's milk wine, showing off the silk and porcelain they had plundered from the border counties of Daxia, and watching the warriors wrestling. In the golden tent, Duji was probably feeling triumphant, enjoying the glory of being the new overlord of the grasslands, completely unaware that a sharp sword was already hanging over his head.

"How did you get back?" Xiao Chen put down the silk cloth and looked at the two almost unrecognizable night scouts on the ground.

Wang Wu licked his chapped lips, his voice hoarse: "Your Majesty... after receiving the news... during our retreat... we were discovered by patrolling wolf cavalry... they chased us... for two days and two nights... Zhou Ping's leg was shot by an arrow... my arm was cut by a knife... we lost three brothers... before... we finally shook them off... two horses... died from the chase..."

Xiao Chen remained silent for a moment.

He could imagine how horrific the escape must have been.

On the boundless grasslands, they were being hunted by wolf riders who were most skilled in tracking and archery, and every step they took was on the edge of life and death.

"Thanks for your hard work."

He ultimately uttered only three words, but addressed Zhao Tiedao: "Take them down and treat them properly with the best wound medicine. Reward them with one hundred taels of gold, twenty bolts of silk, and a promotion of three ranks. Those who die in battle will receive triple the compensation, and their sons will be granted official positions."

"Thank you... thank you for your great kindness, Your Majesty!" Wang Wu and Zhou Ping kowtowed heavily, and when Zhao Tie helped them up, they could hardly stand.

As soon as the two were helped out of the tent, Xiao Chen turned around abruptly, his eyes no longer showing any hesitation or doubt, only an icy resolve and a burning fighting spirit.

"Beat the drums! Raise the tent! Summon all officers of the rank of colonel and above!"

The deep, rapid drumbeats of the rallying drums instantly resounded throughout the camp, startling the crows roosting in the withered grass not far away.

The generals rushed from their respective tents, unaware of what had happened, but when they saw the familiar yet unsettling look on the emperor's face, everyone knew that something serious had occurred.

Xiao Chen did not invite anyone to sit down.

He walked directly to the huge map, which was already marked with a lot of information, and pointed heavily at one of the locations that had just been circled in vermilion ink—the southern foot of Langjuxu Mountain.

"Gentlemen," his voice was not loud, but it seemed to carry ice shards, clearly reaching everyone's ears, "the Di barbarian false Chanyu, Duji, is right here, about four hundred li from our current camp."

A series of suppressed gasps filled the tent. Four hundred li was not an insurmountable distance on the grassland.

"At this moment, he is holding the Naadam Festival, where tribal leaders have gathered, drinking and reveling, and the guards are lax."

Xiao Chen's gaze swept over the faces that had suddenly become excited or solemn. "Their core guards number no more than two thousand. Their main force of wolf cavalry is either on guard against General Li Gan or still out there raiding and has not yet returned."

He paused, letting everyone process the news, then spoke each word clearly and decisively:

"This is a golden opportunity! Opportunities are fleeting!"

"I have decided to personally lead 30,000 elite light cavalry, each with two horses, carrying only ten days' rations and abandoning baggage, to depart from this place."

His finger traced a sharp arc on the map, pointing directly to Langjuxu Mountain. "We'll march day and night, covering four hundred li, to strike at Langjuxu Mountain and wipe out the stronghold of the Duoji!"

The tent was initially deathly silent, then suddenly erupted into chaos.

A long-distance raid of 400 li? With only ten days' worth of rations? Abandoning baggage? Heading straight for the enemy chieftain's royal court?

This is too bold, too risky! If they are discovered along the way, if they fail to capture the enemy, or if they are defeated by the royal court, this exhausted army, which is isolated and lacks supplies, will face annihilation!

However, this is far too tempting! If successful, the Northern Barbarians will suffer a fatal blow, their Chanyu will be captured or killed, and without a leader, the entire grassland will collapse instantly.

This will be an unparalleled feat worthy of being recorded in history and remembered for eternity!

All eyes turned to Xiao Chen.

He stood before the map, his figure as upright as a pine tree, the candlelight flickering on his face, revealing a resolute silhouette.

"I know this journey is fraught with danger, like dancing on a knife's edge."

Xiao Chen spoke slowly, silencing the murmurs in the tent, "However, in a narrow encounter, the brave prevail! The opportunity has presented itself; how can we hesitate out of fear of danger? Duji is arrogant, thinking I dare not venture deeper, thinking his grasslands are boundless. I, however, will do the opposite!"

He looked at Zhang Meng: "Zhang Meng!"

"Your subordinate is here!" Zhang Meng was already flushed with excitement. He took a step forward, clasped his hands, and roared.

"I hereby grant you 20,000 of my most elite light cavalry to lead the main army, clearing paths through mountains and building bridges over rivers, eliminating any small groups of scouts, and ensuring your movements remain completely concealed!"

"This subordinate obeys!"

"Zhao Tie!"

"Your subject is here!"

"Select ten thousand elite 'Iron Falcons' heavy cavalry and skilled archers to accompany my central army. Men must be gagged, horses must have their hooves wrapped, and no unnecessary noise must be made!"

"As you command!"

"Order the entire army to immediately eat a hearty battle meal, inspect equipment, and feed the horses ample fodder. At midnight, bury the cooking pots, abandon camp, and set off lightly equipped!"

Xiao Chen's gaze finally landed on the vermilion dot on the map, as if piercing through the sheepskin and ink to see the golden-roofed tent a hundred miles away.

"This journey is a matter of life and death, if it fails. But I believe that success will surely belong to the sons of Great Xia!"

"Target: Mount Langjuxu. I, the Emperor, will present Ashina Duoji with a gift that will be unforgettable for all time!"

Outside the tent, the north wind howled, and the night was as dark as ink.

Inside the tent, a high-stakes gamble that would determine the fate of the grasslands and even the Great Xia Kingdom had already begun.