Chapter Fifty-six: Maturity

“This rebel is truly a dire threat!” declared the Han army’s chief commander after reviewing the slogans and actions of the so-called “Revolutionary Army” delivered by Red Lightning. He readily agreed to Wu Zhou’s team’s proposal to ambush this mutinous force.

When Lin Feier received this news, she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Previously, Charles had informed her that the Revolutionary Army was mobilizing in full force, preparing to seize the river crossing. But he had also mentioned something curious: none of the Revolutionary Army’s contract holders—neither the original three nor those who defected to their side—had received any indications of the Han army’s main force appearing, nor had they been assigned any related missions.

Sensing an opportunity, she set about drafting a plan to annihilate the enemy completely.

The plan was simple: as the Revolutionary Army attacked the Han defenders at the river crossing, the Han forces would split into three columns, launching a simultaneous assault from three directions.

To ensure success, enemy scouts had to be eliminated, just as before. The enemy’s leader, Wang Luo, was aware that Han reinforcements might arrive and had even prepared an ambush.

Therefore, she needed to probe Wang Luo’s preparations and, if necessary, use a bloodbath to shatter his hidden troops.

The cooperation of the Han army was the lynchpin of her scheme. Only with their collaboration could Wu Zhou reap the greatest rewards. The other crucial factor was how long the defenders at the river crossing could hold out.

These defenders were not regular Han soldiers but mostly local men who held deep grudges against the Yellow Turbans. Their orders from the court had been to hold the crossing, barring the Yellow Turban main force to the north from sending reinforcements and preventing any rebel contingents in the area from escaping. But after Huangfu Song’s army was routed, they found themselves besieged instead.

If Wang Luo had attacked the crossing immediately after defeating Huangfu Song, rather than lingering to pillage the main camp, Lin Feier would have been powerless—only able to watch as the battle entered its next phase.

If, after occupying the camp, he had moved quickly to take the crossing, he would still have had time to build boats, cross the river, and escape before Han reinforcements could arrive.

Instead, he tarried at the camp, training soldiers, rooting out Han remnants, and plotting to carve out his own domain, even seeking to expand eastward...

But for contract holders limited to this patch of land, what value was there in taking territory to the east? There were no missions, no way to earn universal points—only wasted time.

This enemy, for all his petty stratagems, and despite the Han army’s carelessness that led to their defeat, was ultimately a novice—too little knowledge of the space, too much naivety, and clumsy methods.

These conclusions Lin Feier reached only after repeated scouting and probing, fully understanding everything the trio across the field had done in this scenario. Her judgment was, in truth, quite accurate.

The moment had come. There was no need for courtesy now.

Her next step was to link up with the Han main force, shatter the enemy’s ambush, encircle and destroy their army.

If she could achieve all that, this scenario would be as good as over! She would then, as history dictated, shatter the Yellow Turban main force and claim another overwhelming victory in the next scenario—drawing ever closer to her ultimate goal.

Devising these strategies took little effort; she was experienced in such matters.

She dispatched most of her subordinates to eliminate enemy scouts, just as before, rendering the enemy deaf and blind. As for that man who was possibly still angry with her—Gru—she planned to comfort him, then send him to the river crossing.

Meanwhile, the defenders at the crossing had been drilling and fortifying their camp. Exiled from their homes by the Yellow Turbans, separated from their families, their lives shattered—such hatred, combined with the terrain, would surely drive them to fight to the last man. She wondered if Gru could survive such a battlefield—perhaps even become a hero?

If he did, she would forgive him after such an ordeal, perhaps even come to value him more. And if he fell in battle, she would grieve and shed tears for him.

No matter the outcome, she looked forward to what would come.

—

“Did you escape from the Yellow Turbans?” The sentry at the Han camp’s gate eyed the group of ragged, dust-covered men suspiciously.

“They let us go,” said the leader weakly. “I’m Deputy General Song, who used to garrison the main camp! I’ve been here several times—don’t you recognize me?”

The guard hesitated, then went inside to fetch the squad leader. The squad leader, recognizing Song, exchanged a few words with him and finally let them in.

“Sir,” the squad leader asked respectfully after Song had sat down in a rough tent to drink some water, “how did you make it here? What happened at the camp?”

“What could have happened? It was overrun!” Song gestured broadly, as if speaking of something mundane. “When the Yellow Turbans first attacked, we held out for a day. But that night their commander arrived, carrying a charred, blackened head, claiming it was General Huangfu.”

“At first, everyone doubted it. But then they renewed the assault. The fences caught fire, and we couldn’t hold out—so we surrendered.”

“And then?” Several men pushed aside the tent flap and entered.

“General Zhang…” Song rose to salute. “Your subordinate greets you, General.”

“No need for formality,” said the man who entered—the highest-ranking officer at the crossing, General Zhang Da. His hair was streaked with white, his skin weathered and dark, his frame robust. Sitting across from Song, he narrowed his eyes and spoke calmly.

“You were fortunate to escape the rebels, General Song—a cause for celebration.”

“I wouldn’t dare claim that!” Song fell to his knees. “In truth, it was the Revolutionary Army who released us.”

“The Revolutionary Army?” Zhang Da repeated, puzzled.

“They’re the Yellow Turban force that defeated General Huangfu, but their leader seems not to believe in Zhang Jiao’s doctrine. In their ranks, anyone who so much as mentions the gods is denied food and reward. As a result, their soldiers have little faith. They even changed their name and banners, calling themselves the Revolutionary Army.”

“Revolutionary Army…” Zhang Da murmured.

“They didn’t massacre prisoners like the Yellow Turbans. After we were captured, some soldiers surrendered and were scattered among their units; the clever ones were set to train the Yellow Turban troops.”

“In the past few days, they swept the surrounding outposts, garrisoned their own forces everywhere, and distributed all the local land to their soldiers and the refugees they’d recruited...”

“Outrageous!” Zhang Da’s eyes bulged; he leapt to his feet and shouted, “These lands all belong to my family. How dare a mere bandit parcel them out to those mongrels!”