On the grand carriage, the Emperor was dressed in his ceremonial robes, adorned with symbols of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, dragons, and other auspicious creatures, totaling twelve emblems.
His face was pale, but he appeared calm, even waving to the cheering soldiers and civilians.
The court officials followed closely, dressed in their seasonal court attire.
Since it was autumn, they were all in white robes, creating a spectacular sight.
According to tradition, the color of the court attire changed with the seasons: green for spring, red for summer, yellow for late summer, white for autumn, and black for winter.
Compared to the Emperor, the officials looked much more uneasy.
If the enemy attacked, the Emperor and Empress might survive, but they might not.
Most of them stayed in Luoyang with the same mindset as Wang Yan—staying in the court to fight for power, secure positions for their families, and reap benefits.
Deep down, they truly did not want war—except for the opportunists.
Empress Yang Xianrong, dressed in a deep green robe, adorned with twelve hairpins, a swaying headdress, and a large bun, looked stunningly beautiful.
Her expression was calm, as if she were on a spring outing.
But upon closer inspection, there was a faint hint of mockery at the corner of her lips.
This woman, after experiencing life and death, seemed to have changed.
She despised her husband, the Emperor, the powerful Grand Marshal Sima Yi who controlled the court, the civil and military officials, and the noble families.
In her eyes, they were all jokes.
They were neither capable of governing the country nor quelling rebellions.
They were like puppets, going through the motions of court life, spouting ridiculous words they didn’t believe in, while engaging in despicable acts behind the scenes.
What use were they?
Especially Sima Yi—he was shameless, incompetent, and devoid of virtue.
Yang Xianrong still remembered the arrows that flew toward her outside the palace walls.
She had never been so close to death.
Sima Yi was also hypocritical.
On the surface, he showed great respect to the Emperor and Empress, but in reality, he had already disbanded the palace guards and replaced them with his own troops.
He often intimidated the Emperor to get his way.
And yet, this seemingly powerful minister cowered before Sima Ying, who commanded over 200,000 troops.
He deferred all major decisions to Sima Ying in Ye City, not daring to act on his own.
Only now, when Sima Ying had completely turned against him, did he dare to fight back.
What a coward!
Heh, with such men in the Sima family, why should she even bother?
She glanced around aimlessly, with a detached attitude, as if watching a grand comedy—or perhaps a farce.
Hmm, outside the Piyong Gate, a group of soldiers knelt.
The leader was dressed in a white robe—another useless scholar.
Behind him were two others.
The one on the left wore armor, his head almost touching the ground, trembling with fear.
The one on the right was less restrained.
He was tall, dressed in a bright red military uniform, with a bow and a ring-headed knife at his waist, and a large sword or perhaps a long knife on his back.
His head was slightly lowered, but his eyes were sneakily glancing at the imperial procession, showing great audacity.
Yang Xianrong could even feel that this man’s gaze lingered on her longer than it did on the Emperor.
What boldness! What filthy thoughts! But she couldn’t be bothered.
Ever since she grew into her beauty and became known to the world, she had grown accustomed to the gazes of men.
She knew exactly what disgusting thoughts they harbored.
She used to hate it.
Now, she understood that her beauty, figure, and status were assets—but no one was worthy of her.
Not even the Emperor!
She glanced at her husband, whose forehead bore a faint bruise—courtesy of a vase she had thrown at him.
When Sima Yong and Sima Ying had petitioned to execute her father, Yang Xuanzhi, the Emperor had actually discussed the feasibility with his courtiers.
What use was such a man? When had the Yang family of Mount Tai ever been trampled upon like this?
The carriage soon passed by.
Mi Huang waited a while before slowly standing up.
Shao Xun quickly reached out to help him, earning a satisfied look from Mi Huang.
Yang Bao, on the other hand, was dumbfounded.
Shao Xun, with his martial skills, was also so observant and sharp-witted.
Was he even human?
"Let’s go back," Mi Huang waved his hand, leading everyone back inside the walls.
"Last night, I received news that Huangfu Shang has been defeated. Zhang Fang’s army is advancing unimpeded and could enter Luoyang at any moment. Our days of peace are over. We must be ready to fight at any time," Mi Huang said.
"Prepare yourselves."
"Commander, we still have some pigs and sheep in the camp. Why not slaughter them and feast the entire army to boost morale?" Shao Xun suggested.
"That’s a good idea. You handle it," Mi Huang said, his mood sour.
"Yes, sir," Shao Xun replied.
"Commander, if the enemy has already defeated Huangfu Shang, why is the Grand Marshal taking the Emperor on an inspection tour today? Is he planning to move elsewhere?" Yang Bao asked.
"Haha," Mi Huang laughed, pointing at Yang Bao.
"You, what nonsense are you talking about? Look at Shao Xun—he wouldn’t say such things."
"The Grand Marshal is taking the Emperor on an inspection tour, but in my opinion, it’s just a drill. Soon, he’ll be taking the Emperor on a military campaign," Shao Xun said with a smile.
Mi Huang gave him an approving look, then turned to Yang Bao, speaking earnestly.
"Shao Xun is younger than you, but he sees things clearly. Last year, when we executed Prince Qi, the Grand Marshal used the Emperor as a shield. At that time, the Emperor and Empress were terrified, and dozens of officials died. Now, with the enemy at our gates, he’s using the same trick again, using the Emperor as a shield. After all, few would dare to openly harm the Emperor, so there’s still a chance."
Yang Bao was stunned.
He hadn’t realized that Sima Yi’s morals were so low.
No wonder he could become the Grand Marshal—he was ruthless! At the same time, he felt a pang of jealousy.
Mi Huang clearly favored Shao Xun and barely paid attention to him, which made him quite unhappy.
Mi Huang noticed Yang Bao’s expression but initially chose not to say anything.
However, he soon thought that with Shao Xun’s martial skills and insight, Yang Bao would be no match for him on the battlefield.
Feeling a bit of pity, Mi Huang turned to Yang Bao and said, "Yang Bao, in the military, it’s all about ability. I don’t care about your opinions, but I must remind you—Zhang Fang is not a good man.
The Guanzhong army he brought may have been decent people, but now that they’re out on campaign, and Zhang Fang lets them run wild, who knows what they’ll become? In Hongnong, they’ve already started eating people and killing prisoners. When Zhang Fang reaches Luoyang, do you think he’ll spare you?
Will begging for mercy help? Right now, we need to stand united. Don’t make a mistake."
Yang Bao’s face turned pale, and he stammered, unable to respond.
"Think about it," Mi Huang said coldly, then turned and walked away.
From mid-September, the war suddenly intensified.
On the 20th, after wreaking havoc in Hongnong, the Guanzhong army advanced closer, and Luoyang was filled with tension.
On the 25th, under the dark night sky, several lines of torches snaked forward.
The troops were not well-organized, and there was a lot of noise.
The supply carts at the back were loaded with jars, bags, and other items, all bulging with unknown contents.
The soldiers were in high spirits, marching briskly with smiles on their faces, clearly a victorious army.
The sound of hooves suddenly rang out, galloping westward, and soon stopped near a grass pavilion.
Inside the pavilion, over a dozen men in shining armor and fierce expressions gathered.
Zhang Fang sat on a stone bench, chewing on dried meat.
His reputation for cruelty had spread throughout Hongnong and was now known to the people of Luoyang.
The thought filled him with pride.
You noble families looked down on me? Well, now I’ve brought tens of thousands of troops to your doorstep.
Are you scared?
While stationed in Hongnong, he had captured several members of the Yang family, including a pair of sisters-in-law.
The older one was charming and alluring, while the younger one was tender and innocent.
They had served him day and night, cooking and warming his bed, all under the watchful eyes of their brother and father.
Before leaving, he had turned them into "meals," the taste of which still lingered in his memory.
What nobles? What aristocrats? They were all just two-legged sheep!
Zhang Fang even wondered why he had ever respected them in his youth.
They would offer their wives and daughters to save their own lives.
Women, to survive, would serve him with all sorts of tricks, shattering any illusion of their noble image.
This world was just perfect for him—brutal and ruthless!
The sound of hooves grew closer, and the soldiers outside the pavilion drew their swords and bows, looking toward the noise.
Soon, a rider dismounted and reported, "Commander, the vanguard has reached Qianjin’e. There are no troops from Sima Yi’s camp."
"Good, take Qianjin’e first and cut off the water channels," Zhang Fang slapped his thigh, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"Yes, sir," the rider replied and left.
Zhang Fang tossed aside the dried meat, wiped his hands on his uniform, and laughed.
"Sima Yi must be rushing back to defend now, right? He looked down on us westerners, but now he’ll see—none of his noble officials know how to fight!"
His officers laughed heartily, feeling triumphant.
Qianjin’e was a large reservoir west of Luoyang, with several stone and brick channels leading into the city, providing water for the inner and palace cities.
By cutting off the water supply, Zhang Fang aimed to cripple the city.
Though Zhang Fang was cruel, his military strategy was clear and precise.
With superior numbers, he still proceeded cautiously, unlike some incompetent nobles.
"Have you all rested enough?" Zhang Fang stood up, looking at the dark sky.
"We’ll march through the night. I want to see Luoyang by morning."
The officers roared in agreement, their morale high.
(End of Chapter)