The entire royal bloodline of the State of Yang had been slaughtered by Yang Jiande's own hand — Yang Jiande, who cultivated the Sanguine Demon Scripture of Severing Emotion and Desire.
In the past, there had been some pretense. The deaths of the Yang royal family were mostly reported to the outside world as deaths by illness.
But after the public killing of Crown Prince Yang Xuanji in the great hall, Yang Jiande could no longer be bothered to find reasons. He simply summoned his blood relatives to the palace and wiped them out in a single stroke.
The Sanguine Demon Scripture of Severing Emotion and Desire was his secret technique, so secrecy was of the utmost importance.
To achieve this goal, nearly all of the court officials, palace maids, and eunuchs who had witnessed the massacre were executed by Yang Jiande, with the exception of a handful of trusted confidants.
Thus, the matter was temporarily concealed within the royal palace, never leaked to the outside world.
To the public, it was announced that these people had been weak-kneed and cowardly, attempting to sue for peace with the State of Qi.
And Yang Jiande, to strengthen the nation's resolve for war, had them all executed without mercy.
A further decree was issued: from commoners to royalty, anyone in the entire kingdom who entertained thoughts of seeking peace would be treated as a national traitor.
The killing of Crown Prince Yang Xuanji was Yang Jiande's statement!
Even the Crown Prince had been killed. No one in the State of Yang dared speak of peace again.
The entire kingdom fell into a grim silence, with only one voice remaining.
The high-ranking military officers were mostly old subordinates who had campaigned alongside Yang Jiande in earlier years. Though he had stepped back from political power in recent years, he had never relinquished military control.
When Crown Prince Yang Xuanji had attempted his coup, he had relied solely on court forces and had not dared to touch the military at all.
If it were merely a matter of going from rusty back to familiarity, the process should not have taken long.
Yet Yang Jiande, leading an army of two hundred and ten thousand, advanced with extreme caution, as slowly as could be — as if competing with Chongxuan Chuliang over who could build camps faster, rather than fighting a life-and-death battle.
Outsiders might not understand, but those old military subordinates certainly did not doubt Yang Jiande's military prowess. Many were puzzled by this.
……
Yang Jiande's commander's tent was quite ordinary, bearing none of the extravagant luxury typical of the Yang royal family. Only the Scarlet Yang Dragon Banner planted outside the tent revealed the identity of the sovereign.
Inside the tent, a burly middle-aged general was offering counsel: "You purged the court, killed the Crown Prince with your own hands, to demonstrate your resolve for total war. Now our nation is a mass of mourners-turned-warriors! This is the moment when morale is ripe for use — we should strike with full force without hesitation. Why does the General linger here?"
Another younger officer spoke: "The Qi rebels' army has already entered Chivei. Right now the advantage of terrain lies with us. The longer the delay, the more familiar the Qi forces will become with the geography. Our advantage is slipping away. Your Majesty must reconsider!"
Yang Jiande's old subordinates still addressed him as "General" to this day — partly out of habit, partly as a sign of loyalty. The younger generation of officers, meanwhile, still called him "Your Majesty."
One could tell the difference in seniority between the two groups simply from their forms of address.
Yet regardless of whether they were old generals or young, they all shared the same assessment of the situation.
They believed that if the Yang army was to achieve victory, it must be a swift engagement — striking the Autumn Slayers before they had fully established their foothold, and crushing them in a single decisive blow.
The State of Yang had already committed its entire nation to war, while Qi had deployed only one of its nine armies. Yang had poured everything into this fight, while Qi had an endless supply of reinforcements. If the situation dragged on, it would benefit the State of Yang in no way whatsoever.
Yang Jiande sat high upon the commander's seat, observing his generals, listening carefully to every piece of counsel offered by each officer.
He did not miss a single glance, a single flicker in anyone's eyes.
Finally, he spoke: "What you generals have said — is there anything I do not already know?"
"However... is there anything that Chongxuan Chuliang does not already know?"
"If the Qi army attacked with the fury of fire, we could meet them head-on. With the resolve to shatter jade and stone alike, we might well find a chance of victory."
"But I must say something cruel here. Not to bolster the enemy's morale and diminish our own..."
Yang Jiande pressed both hands on his knees, his gaze fixed upon his generals: "Tell me, gentlemen — if we face the Autumn Slayers in direct combat, what are our chances of winning?"
An elderly general with graying hair, his face etched with deep wrinkles, rose with a momentary waver — yet still spoke: "The Autumn Slayers are the strongest army under heaven. If we fight them at ten to one, we still have perhaps three chances in ten. At two to one... our chances are probably... one in a hundred at best."
His name was Ji Cheng, from a dynasty of renowned generals — arguably the foremost military family in the State of Yang.
Yet by now, the Ji family's talent had dwindled. He had two sons and three grandsons, all killed in battle. Of the Ji family's men, only this old general remained.
An old warrior in full armor was a stirring sight — but how could it not also speak of desolation?
His voice trembled as he spoke. When he finished, he closed his aged eyes, as if unwilling to face the brutal reality of the vast disparity in fighting strength between the two armies. Yet as a commanding general, he could not avoid facing it.
"One in a hundred," Yang Jiande repeated softly at first. Then he continued: "But why, then, did you generals still lead your armies here? Why do you still gather beneath my command tent? These two hundred and ten thousand — let us call them a weak force for now — why has this 'weak force' of two hundred and ten thousand gathered here? What drives them to face the Autumn Slayers head-on?"
He rose from his commander's seat to face all of his generals.
"The ancestral temple of the Yang clan has received sacrifices for twenty-seven unbroken generations. It is not that the people of Yang owe our clan — it is that our clan owes all under heaven!"
"But if I alone are put to the sword, will the fighting stop? Will Qi's greed be satisfied? Will you generals be at ease? Will the unrest in the State of Yang truly be calmed?"
"The State of Yang does not belong solely to the Yang clan. It belongs to every person who lives upon this land of Yang!"
"Qi betrayed their oath and invaded our home, slaughtering our people. My death, Yang Jiande's, would be nothing — but why should the people of Yang lose the State of Yang, and no longer be able to call themselves Yang citizens!?"
All fell silent. A room full of warriors, clutching their weapons tightly, unable to utter a single word.
"Gentlemen, we have gathered here, wearing swords at our waists and carrying blades, all for the same purpose." Yang Jiande struck his fist against his own chest. "My heart is with yours!"
"My longing for victory is no less than yours. But the greater our desire, the more cautious we must be."
"Because we have the strength for only one battle. Ahead lies the abyss. If we do not win this one fight, there will be no second chance."
"The State of Yang faces a crisis unseen in centuries. If this battle is lost, I can only die. But what about you?"
"You have been citizens of Yang for half your lives. In your twilight years, could you truly adapt to life under Qi?"
After asking this, Yang Jiande swept his gaze around the tent, meeting every pair of eyes until he had confirmed that his spirit and resolve had been transmitted to each man. Only then did he return to matters of strategy.
"Observing Chongxuan Chuliang's advance — fortified camps at every ten li, methodical and unyielding. Everything in his path, imprisoned or killed, men and livestock alike exterminated — one can see he has long been prepared for our desire for a swift battle. This man is a famed general of the realm. If he is prepared, then we absolutely must not be swift."
"But General, where then lies our chance of victory?" The same gray-haired elder, Ji Cheng, asked with a trembling voice: "In a head-on clash, a direct confrontation — where is our chance?"
"Wait!" Yang Jiande declared.
"I offered to surrender as the sovereign of an entire nation, then stationed my army before Zhaoheng City. All of it was waiting for Chongxuan Chuliang to make a mistake. But he has not erred once — every step he takes is measured and secure. One who excels in unconventional warfare may be mediocre in defeat but legendary in victory. One who can wield conventional forces with mastery — that is the mark of a true legend of the realm. His command of armies has already reached the pinnacle of the age."
"Faced with such an opponent..." Yang Jiande clenched both fists. In his eyes there was no trace of fear — only the blazing fire of battle. "My blood boils!"
"I am waiting for a variable, a variable that does not depend on us. And precisely because of this, it is something Chongxuan Chuliang cannot predict!"