Chapter 313: Chapter 313

At the third watch of the night, a dark cloud covered the half moon in the sky, and the stars dimmed. A basket slowly descended from the top of Jincheng City’s walls, and after reaching the ground, two people clumsily climbed out from inside.

Palace Secretary Zhao Ruosu grasped the rope and shook it twice to signal that all was well, then sighed softly and walked toward the bridge. His attendant followed closely behind, constantly looking back. Though Jincheng City was small, it was a safe island in a vast ocean—once they left this place, who knew how long they would have to drift before reaching shore again.

Each man carried a bundle on his back as they traveled westward. There were fewer Xiongnu in this direction, and just a mile away lay mountain ranges where they might hide from the Xiongnu cavalry. The attendant’s large bundle was packed with dried provisions and was so heavy it kept pulling downward, forcing him to constantly hoist it back onto his shoulder. He suspected he wouldn’t die of starvation but of exhaustion.

Shortly after, a cavalry unit charged out from the eastern city—over a hundred men trying to draw the Xiongnu’s attention. But it had little effect. The Xiongnu forces were strong and showed no panic; several hundred mounted up to meet them in battle while other camps remained motionless, completely unaffected.

The Chu army didn’t dare engage in real combat and quickly retreated back into the city.

By this time, Zhao Ruosu and his attendant hadn’t even reached the mountain region. For two men like them to think they could walk all the way through the Xiongnu blockade on foot was pure fantasy. After nearly an hour of hiding and struggling forward, they were captured alive. There were Xiongnu in the mountains too, who bound both men’s hands tightly with rope and led them along like livestock.

The attendant’s only consolation was that both their bundles had been seized, lightening his burden considerably.

The Xiongnu chatted and laughed happily among themselves, but the two Chu men couldn’t understand a word. Zhao Ruosu suddenly felt a surge of fear—if the Xiongnu didn’t take him seriously and killed him on the spot, his plan would be completely ruined.

So he shouted and made a fuss, putting on an air of great importance, only to receive several lashes that left a bloody welt on his face, burning with pain.

Dawn came, but still no one paid them any attention or interrogated them. No one even brought water or food. The only reason they hadn’t been killed seemed to be to demonstrate Xiongnu power: no one could escape from their encirclement.

Zhao Ruosu stood upright with his head held high, refusing to show submission, telling himself there was still hope—the Xiongnu wouldn’t react so quickly.

Near noon, overcome by hunger, thirst, and exhaustion, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore and sat on the ground with his back against the post, gazing toward Jincheng City. His heart was uneasy, nothing like the composure he’d shown when presenting his plan to the Emperor.

His attendant also sat down, licked his lips, and whispered, “We’re not going to die here, are we?”

Zhao Ruosu wasn’t skilled at inspiring others. After thinking for a moment, he said, “From my observations, only one in ten desperate schemes succeeds, which is why governing the realm should rely on orthodox methods—desperate schemes shouldn’t be used regularly. This time we had no choice. Whether we succeed or not… depends on Heaven’s will.”

“What? You sounded so confident in front of His Majesty, I thought… you tricked me.” The attendant was one of the Emperor’s men named Ni Qiu, who only half-understood the entire plan. His courage completely vanished as he said tearfully, “I volunteered to come with you! We’ve only run this short distance—I could have run much farther on my own.”

“Cry. Cry loudly,” Zhao Ruosu said.

“Why? Are you looking down on me?”

“If you cry, this whole thing will seem more real. Cry hard.”

Ni Qiu let out a couple of dry wails, but soon genuine sorrow welled up and he began crying in earnest, snot and tears streaming down his face, drawing hearty laughter from the surrounding Xiongnu.

Zhao Ruosu sternly rebuked him, scolding him for bringing shame to the Great Chu Emperor. Ni Qiu cried even harder until someone got annoyed and came over to whip him twice, finally stopping his tears. He continued to sob quietly, and when the Xiongnu had moved away, whispered, “Master Zhao, my reputation is completely ruined. You’ll have to restore my honor later.”

“Don’t worry. As long as we can leave alive, all the credit will be yours.”

Ni Qiu nearly started crying again—this Master Zhao really had no talent for boosting morale.

As evening approached, the Xiongnu continued their show of force without any actual fighting. The two captives were weak from hunger, and Ni Qiu couldn’t even cry anymore. He muttered, “Last night I was complaining that the dried provisions were too heavy, but now I really miss them.”

Zhao Ruosu was breaking out in cold sweat all over his body. Upon hearing the words “dried provisions,” his stomach rumbled loudly, but he still straightened his body, trying hard to maintain his sitting posture. “You must have a name, right?”

“I mean your formal name, the proper name given by your teacher or family elders.”

“Well… I only know my surname is Chao, and my given name is Ni Qiu.”

“Are there many Chaos?”

“Not many, just two commonly used ones—one with a rolled tongue, one without.” As Zhao Ruosu spoke, he used his bound hands to write the characters “晁” and “曹” on the ground.

Ni Qiu couldn’t read, so he tried rolling his tongue and not rolling it, muttering back and forth for a long time before saying with certainty, “I’m the rolled-tongue Chao.”

“It’s this one.” Zhao Ruosu pointed to the character “晁” on the ground. “Let me give you a proper name.”

“Isn’t Ni Qiu a good name?”

“It’s fine, but Ni Qiu, Mudfish, would not be suitable for formal occasions. In the future when you become an official and interrogate criminals in court, if one happens to be called… Big Fish, wouldn’t that be awkward? ‘Lord Ni Qiu orders the criminal Big Fish to receive ten strokes of the rod.'”

“Hehe.” Ni Qiu laughed. “I could become an official?”

“Of course. You’re His Majesty’s trusted confidant. As long as you don’t make mistakes, becoming an official is just a matter of time, and a high-ranking one at that.”

Ni Qiu coughed twice and declared, “Lord Ni Qiu orders: anyone daring to be called Big Fish is guilty and shall receive eighty strokes of the rod and be exiled to the frontier.”

Zhao Ruosu was about to say that ordinary people couldn’t survive eighty strokes when Ni Qiu started crying again—this time it was genuine crying from the start.

Zhao Ruosu sighed softly and said nothing more.

“Lord Zhao… please give me… a name,” Ni Qiu said between sobs. “One that’s… bigger than… Big Fish.”

“Bigger than Big Fish would be a whale—that’s a giant sea beast that’s said to be able to swallow entire ships.” Zhao Ruosu wrote the character Jing for whale on the ground, though it was already dark and even he couldn’t see the writing.

“Swallow entire ships?” Ni Qiu was both disbelieving and fascinated. “Then I’ll be called Whale, Chao Jing.”

Apart from a new name, nothing else happened that night. Another small squad emerged from the city to probe enemy positions, but it was useless—the Xiongnu remained unmoved.

Zhao Ruosu and Chao Jing had passed the worst of their hunger and slept leaning against the post. Early in the morning, they were awakened by cold water poured over their heads. Several Xiongnu chattered for a while, kicked them a few times, threw down two hard flatbreads, and rode away.

This was their only food in two days. Not caring how dirty the ground was, they picked up the bread with both hands and devoured it ravenously. Even Zhao Ruosu couldn’t maintain his dignity—only after taking three large bites did he switch to chewing slowly and carefully.

“The Xiongnu don’t know how to make bread,” Chao Jing said, licking the crumbs from his lips. He had already finished his portion.

Zhao Ruosu tore off more than half of his remaining bread and handed it over. Chao Jing didn’t dare be polite and took it, eating it completely. With his hunger slightly abated, he looked up and sighed, “What a pity about all my gold, silver, and treasures. The whole village working hard at fishing for ten years couldn’t earn that much money. Even though I’d have to return it all to His Majesty in the end, I could at least touch it for a while. Now I can’t even touch it.”

“Return it to His Majesty?” Zhao Ruosu didn’t understand.

“His Majesty told me to accept bribes, and then…” Chao Jing covered his mouth with both hands, remembering this was a secret.

Zhao Ruosu chuckled twice and said nothing more, gaining some new impressions of the Emperor.

That day they only had breakfast—no lunch or dinner. Chao Jing grew hungrier, especially feeling thirsty, regretting that he hadn’t caught more water in his mouth when the Xiongnu had doused them that morning. Unable to bear watching the Xiongnu ride back and forth, he asked in a hoarse voice, “Lord Zhao, you seem calmer today than yesterday.”

“Planning is up to people, success is up to heaven. Being anxious is useless, so it’s better to go with the flow—it can even help with thirst and fatigue.”

“Really?” Chao Jing also tried to sit upright like Zhao Ruosu, but after a short while his back became sore and numb, so he gave up the attempt. Gazing toward Jin City, he murmured, “Zhang Youcai must be eating and drinking well. I should have made him come along back then.”

After nightfall, the Xiongnu had their meal, and the aroma of meat drifted over from afar. Chao Jing cursed under his breath and found he couldn’t even sleep. But when he saw a group of Xiongnu riding toward them, he quickly shut his mouth—he couldn’t afford to suffer any immediate consequences.

The Xiongnu untied the ropes from the posts and led the two prisoners toward the camp’s outskirts. The horses moved quickly while the men moved slowly, so the two could only jog to keep up. Zhao Ruosu shouted a few questions, demanding to know where they were going, but received no response. Chao Jing’s face turned deathly pale. “It’s over, it’s over. They’re going to do it now. The Xiongnu are quite clean about it—they want to take us outside the camp. It won’t be… it won’t be that corpse pile, will it?”

The great fire at the corpse pile still hadn’t completely died out, with wisps of smoke still rising. At the thought of dying there, Chao Jing no longer felt thirsty or hungry, only empty inside with weak legs. But fearing he would disgrace the Emperor, he forced himself to remain calm and said nothing more.

They didn’t know how far they had walked, but their surroundings grew increasingly desolate. It seemed they weren’t heading to the corpse pile but would dig a pit on the spot.

The Xiongnu stopped and exchanged a few words. Most of them left, leaving only two behind. After their companions had gone far away, one of them dismounted and spoke in the Central Plains language: “We apologize for the suffering you gentlemen have endured.”

Chao Jing was dumbstruck. Zhao Ruosu cupped his hands and said, “Sir, you are not a Xiongnu?”

The man pulled out a dagger and cut the ropes binding Zhao Ruosu’s hands. “We are Chu people from Liaodong. To our shame, for the sake of our families’ lives, we had no choice but to follow the Xiongnu and Fuyu people into the pass. We had no other option. Having the chance to rescue you two gentlemen can be considered our atonement.”

Chao Jing was even more surprised but didn’t forget to extend his hands for the man to cut his ropes as well.

Zhao Ruosu appeared very cautious. “Sir, you made the Xiongnu leave so easily?”

The man shrugged. “I’ve worked my way up to a commander of a thousand. My words carry some weight.”

Zhao Ruosu nodded, indicating he believed him. Thıs content belongs to novelFirｅ.net

“This place is not safe to linger. You gentlemen should leave quickly. I’ve surveyed the terrain—enter the mountains from here, follow the mountains on your left, and after a few miles you’ll reach the official road. There are no Xiongnu there.”

Zhao Ruosu shook his head. “We can’t leave now. Our belongings…”

The man turned around and took a small bundle from his silent companion. “Your belongings are here.”

Zhao Ruosu hurriedly took it and examined it by moonlight, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, righteous sirs. May I ask your honored names? If there’s an opportunity in the future, I would like to request merit for you both.”

The man laughed. “Those who have surrendered to the enemy dare not leave their names to shame their ancestors. You gentlemen should leave quickly.”

Zhao Ruosu slung the bundle over his shoulder and cupped his hands in thanks. Chao Jing also cupped his hands and asked, “What about our provisions?”

The man smiled, walked to his mount, untied a leather pouch and tossed it over. “No provisions, just a little wine.” With that, he mounted his horse and departed with his companion.

“To actually encounter righteous men—how fortunate!” Chao Jing said.

Zhao Ruosu patted the bundle on his body. “It wasn’t the righteous men who helped us—it was this.”

The two men stumbled through the darkness toward the mountains. Chao Jing didn’t think too much about it, opened the wine pouch and took a large gulp, then offered it to Zhao Ruosu.

Zhao Ruosu shook his head. He had already forgotten his hunger and thirst, wanting only to quickly leave this place and find that Northern Army unit stationed somewhere unknown.

If you are reading this on an aggregator site, do consider visiting https://tuzhitranslations.wordpress.com/ to support this translation project by leaving a comment.