Chapter 561: A King Wang Er of the Underworld, A Cheng Xu of the Light |
Cooking smoke rose everywhere as the common folk of Puxian lit fires to prepare meals.
The heavy rain still poured, yet fear no longer gripped their hearts.
Many officials had arrived. Rather than oppressing innocent civilians, these soldiers shared military provisions with them. Who wouldn’t rejoice at such fortune?
Everyone cheerfully cooked. The aroma of luncheon meat drifted through the air.
Treating the small square tin of luncheon meat as precious treasure, none dared consume it all at once. They sliced off a tiny piece, pounded it into paste, and stirred it into their rice porridge—thus producing bowls of “minced-meat porridge.” To this, they’d add wild vegetables: purslane, shepherd’s purse, and Chinese lizardtail root…
To ordinary folk, this porridge seemed unremarkable.
Yet one being couldn’t tolerate it.
The puppet deity, perched on Gao Chuwu’s shoulder, rattled in discontent: “What’s this? Eating better than me?”
Gao Chuwu responded blankly, “Ah? How could such crude worldly fare compare to Your Holiness’s meals?”
Gao Chuwu thought: Oh! Of course! The immortal realm surely bears only celestial fruits, not wild weeds. After a millennia of exquisite immortal fruits, even a Deity might crave coarse mortal food now and then.
Amid their banter, the bandit army beyond the city walls began retreating toward the northwest direction.
Zijin Liang had realized the new officials’ forces were formidably strong—thousands of firearms operable even in heavy rain was terrifying. There was no need for a deadly clash with such troops; flight remained the wisest choice against overwhelming might.
Ma Xianglin climbed a vantage point, watching the outlaws fade into the distant curtain of rain. A long sigh of relief escaped him. Trapped within Puxian for days, severed from outside contact, he finally felt the tension ease now that the bandit army withdrew.
Descending, he addressed Xing Honglang: “General Xing, the bandits retreat westward toward Daining City. What should our course be?”
Xing Honglang countered, “What do you propose, General Ma?”
Ma Xianglin contemplated seriously: “Our provisions grow scarce. Had you not arrived, I planned to withdraw to Pingyang Prefecture to resupply before continuing pursuit. But your presence changes things. You mentioned provisions await at the Yellow River’s western banks? Then… I’ll swallow my pride. We chase them west—rescue Daining City first, then proceed to the river… just…”
Xing Honglang grinned wryly: “That’s my own private food stockpile. You’d take a share too?”
Ma Xianglin flushed slightly, embarrassed—yet immediately drew himself up, rushing with pride: “I know claiming your grain seems ungracious. But returning to Pingyang Prefecture to petition local officials would waste precious time on the round trip. Daining City has been crushed under bandit siege for a full day and night. Only swift relief can free its suffering people sooner. So… please grant me the boon of borrowing provisions from you, General Xing. Might that suffice?”
Oh? Was that his motive?
Xing Honglang mused privately: This man’s character seems decent! No wonder the Deity said we could teach him our bamboo box method to shield firearms from rain.
True to Gaojia Village’s custom, lending provisions to Ma Xianglin posed no objection.
She nodded: “Good! Then it is settled.”
Ma Xianglin’s heart leapt. In this severe drought, borrowing grain proved nigh impossible. Even when his White Standards Troops Entered the Capital to Serve Wang, they’d self-provisioned. He’d braced for arduous negotiations to request aid from Xing Honglang—yet she granted it at first ask.
Such benevolence!
Suddenly puzzled, Ma Xianglin inquired: “General Xing, why… rebel? You seem valiant, righteous, compassionate toward commoners. Why would such honor turn against the world?”
Xing Honglang laughed aloud: “Must honor forbid rebellion?”
Ma Xianglin persisted: “I thought not.”
Xing Honglang pointed past him: “Old Nan Feng! Tell General Ma why you originally rebelled.”
Old Nan Feng flashed a crooked grin: “I was border army in Guyuan. Yet for three years, the court withheld our wages. Our leader, the Commander, marched us out—swearing to storm Xi’an and reclaim the arrears owed us!”
Ma Xianglin exclaimed: “!!!”
Xing Honglang turned, jabbing a finger elsewhere: “You. Tell him your own tale.”
The man addressed wore a cloth mask; only his eyes showed above it, radiating awkwardness: “No need… My story hardly suits polite ears.”
Xing Honglang snorted: “None alive forbid the telling. You hide your face—all know unspeakable wounds shadow you. Yet by joining my appeasement, even the gravest crimes wash clean under imperial pardon!”
The masked man blinked rapidly: “Huh? Wait… huh?”
The revelation struck him dumb. He’d never considered it before. Xing Honglang’s words finally made him understand—he could safely unmask. Reveal himself. The Imperial Guards would hunt him no more. For he stood now as an appeasement bandit. Amnesty shielded him.
“Hahahahaha!” Masked no longer, Cheng Xu’s sudden laughter tore skyward. He ripped away the cloth mask and confronted Ma Xianglin:
“I was once a patrol officer! Running myself ragged across counties, crushing bandits—expending sweat and blood to guard my domain’s peace! Yet for clinging to the Eunuch Party’s coattails once… the court branded me faction scum! The Imperial Guards dispatched me to see my grandmother. Only by the Deity’s grace did I claw my way back from that hell! What choice had I? How could I not rebel?”
Ma Xianglin staggered back in shock: “The Chengcheng War God, Cheng Xu?!”
Cheng Xu recoiled: “Shit! You’ve heard of me?”
Ma Xianglin nodded emphatically: “With bandits raging across the realm, who ignores such news? You emerged alongside Bai Shui Wang Er! All this world knows: the underworld has Wang Er, the light has Cheng Xu!”
Cheng Xu blanched: “Fuck me!”
He hastily fumbled the cloth mask back over his face: “Too notorious. Doubtful amnesty shields it. Likely the emperor himself recalls my name… Best keep this low.”
Ma Xianglin gazed at him, speechless.
Xing Honglang stared likewise, wordless.
Cheng Xu glanced about sharply: “Few heard that, yes? Only us here?”
Bystanders chuckled helplessly: “Right! Plan to silence us all?”
Cheng Xu grunted sourly: “All kin here, who needs silencing? Only Little Ma Chao’s an outsider… Heh. Xing Honglang. Old Nan Feng. Lend me your hands—let’s unite and slay Little Ma Chao to bury this secret.”
Ma Xianglin jolted in fright.
But Xing Honglang and Old Nan Feng scolded together in laughter: “Fool! Know you nothing? Ma Xianglin carries a title himself—Zhao Yun Reborn! Even we three combined may fail against that!”
Seeing no true malice in their words, Ma Xianglin relaxed inwardly. Yet his heart also whispered dismay: So their rebellion arose from unspeakable agonies… Alas… What has befallen this world? That such worthy souls stand driven to rebellion…