Chapter 87: Go and Claim a Measure of Confidence!

Deep in the night.

On the city ramparts, torches were lit as patrols of city guards paced the walkways, carrying flames that flickered in the darkness. Inside the city, amidst the pitch-black night, Fu Zihou, sword at his side and a torch in hand, arrived at a vacant lot.

More than two hundred surrendered rebel soldiers were already armored and had checked their weapons. Seeing Fu Zihou approach alone, they all rose to their feet. As former rebels, they knew full well the dangers of leaving the city at night, yet seeing Fu Zihou arrive in person dispelled every trace of their hesitation and worry. He had kept his word, and he trusted them; naturally, they were willing to follow him out into the night.

"Let’s go!" Fu Zihou arrived before them, dispensing with pleasantries. Just as he turned to leave, he heard the voice of Yue Ming.

"General! Are you truly not afraid that we might betray you?" Yue Ming asked, his breathing ragged. It was his first time witnessing someone so daring. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that a Sui general would put his faith in rebels.

"Zihou has said it before: if the world could be at peace, who would choose to bear the shame of treason? Life is short, and it is a rare fortune to meet. That I have encountered you all is fate. If any of you wish to leave, I shall provide the funds for your journey. As it stands, if we fail to hold the East City, my head as a captain is worth little more than that," Fu Zihou replied, a smile gracing his face in the torchlight. "Besides, in my eyes, you are all true men. When people live in this world, if they share a common spirit and bond with sincerity, they shall have no regrets even in death!"

Fu Zihou looked at them, then turned and began to walk forward. Upon hearing his words, Yue Ming, Xue Hong, Xing Ming, and the two hundred surrendered soldiers felt their hearts stirred by the sight of the young man holding the torch. One by one, they gripped their weapons and followed in his footsteps.

A man dies for one who truly understands him. If they were to die tonight for venturing out of the city, they would have no regrets.

In the darkness, Fu Zihou carried his torch all the way to the gate. He did not rush to have the guards open it; instead, he closed his eyes in silence. Perhaps all the world feared the pitch-black night for its lack of light, but Fu Zihou was the exception. More than in the daylight, it was in the dead of night that he stood apart from all others.

The soldiers behind him were elites carefully selected from the rebel army. Fu Zihou had been taught by his master not only how to select the best warriors but also how to treat them. According to his master, these men lacked not ability or strength compared to the elites of a regular army, but honor. It was an elusive, intangible thing, yet for an elite soldier, it was fatal.

When Yang Xuangan’s clan had first rebelled, why had his once-valiant soldiers—the very backbone of his forces—failed to perform as they had before? The reason was the shift in their status, which created a divide in their hearts. It was this invisible sentiment that, at critical moments, undermined their morale and infected the spirits of their comrades. Yang Xuangan and his brothers, having no experience in rebellion, had failed to anticipate this, and by the time they realized it, it was too late to fix.

Just like those elites mentioned by his master, the surrendered soldiers behind Fu Zihou did not realize that they had always viewed themselves as mere bandits. That was why, when faced with despair, they had surrendered without hesitation. Fu Zihou, having received his master's tutelage and possessing an innate talent, had seen this difference at a glance on the battlefield.

He understood that the stance he took now would provide them with the very backbone they desperately needed. If convincing the city guards to let the rebels surrender was a mercy, then issuing orders within the East City that no one was to insult or mistreat them was Fu Zihou’s way of bestowing dignity upon them. And now, leading them out in the dead of night, there was something else he wished to give them.

He knew the temperament of those selected as elites; he understood them better than the rebel generals themselves. Thus, he did not fear betrayal.

"Open the gate!" Fu Zihou opened his eyes and gave the command, handing his torch to a soldier. The guards at the gate heard him, and in the darkness, they combined their strength to heave the heavy doors open.

"General, I am skilled at night combat. I will take a few men to eliminate their scouts outside," Yue Ming said. As a man from the northern frontier, he was not only skilled with horses but had grown up accustomed to the dark and understood the habits of scouts.

"Very well," Fu Zihou said. In the gloom, he watched Yue Ming and his men slip out through the dark city gate.

Staring into the pitch-black expanse beyond, Fu Zihou stood his ground. As he fought more battles, a sense of foreboding had begun to manifest, saving his life on more than one occasion. He had started to consciously rely on this innate ability. He was not a legendary strategist like Bai Qi or Li Mu of the Warring States, capable of mastering every formation and predicting every victory. Nor was he a peerless warrior like Xiang Yu, the Overlord of Western Chu, who dominated the battlefield and left a name that shook history. In this chaotic age, facing the formidable heroes of the future and the hundred-thousand-strong rebel army, this sixth sense was one of his few true advantages—and the very reason he dared to lead these men into the night.

***

In the depths of the night, within the rebel camp, rows of soldiers patrolled the perimeter. Yet, whenever they passed the tents of the captains and lieutenants, their footsteps would slow. They were not afraid of waking their superiors; they only hoped to catch the sounds of the women inside. Every rebel soldier envied those officers. While they might occasionally seize a woman during a raid if they were lucky, the smart ones knew better than to act rashly. If they found a truly beautiful woman, they knew better than to keep her; either she would be taken by a superior, inviting death, or she could be offered up as a gift—a gesture that often brought a reward a hundred times greater than a single night of pleasure.

"General! The Grand General requests your presence!" a burly soldier called out to a tent. Hearing the seductive gasps from within, the soldier, a confidant of Xiang Yifeng, felt his throat tighten and a wave of heat wash over him.

A few moments later, the sounds inside ceased, and Xiang Yifeng stepped out. "Why does the Grand General summon me so late?" he asked irritably.

"I do not know, sir," the confidant replied, head bowed.

A short while later, Xiang Yifeng entered the commander’s tent. "Grand General!" he saluted.

Zhen Jie'er returned the salute and gestured for him to approach. "Both the East and West cities are under siege, but the West City is the true priority. It holds not only the clans of influence but also the wealth, grain, and armaments—the very foundations we need to march south and capture Luoyang and Chang'an," Zhen Jie'er said, looking at the map by the candlelight. "The terrain of the West City is difficult to assault; we must dismantle the hearts of those within. It must be taken by wit."

Xiang Yifeng looked at the map, understanding the logic, yet still puzzled by the late-night summons. "Does the Grand General have orders?"

Zhen Jie'er nodded. "I have been gathering intelligence on the West City, but as time passes, they will inevitably learn of the events at the East City. This will surely embolden them." His expression darkened. Initially, he had intended to take the East City and use it to pressure the West, slowly breaking their resolve. But the situation had gone wrong; the East City had not only held firm but had won a victory and taken prisoners. He cared little for the morale of the Sui soldiers or the cheers of the civilians—a few catapults would silence that—but he feared the news reaching the West. If the West City’s morale remained unbroken, he had no confidence in taking it for the Duke of Wei.

"Our army needs a resounding victory," Zhen Jie'er said, looking at Xiang Yifeng. "I intend to give that Sui general an opening, to lure him out of the city. When that happens, I need you to lead your troops and surround and slaughter them."

He laid out his plan. He judged the East City’s defender to be a cunning man, and with morale so high, he would not easily venture out. But Zhen Jie'er would provide the temptation, a lure so great that the defender would have no choice but to leave the safety of the walls.

*Note: The fusion of two souls from two different lives, resulting in a soul twice as strong as an ordinary human's, made Fu Zihou’s sixth sense exceptionally keen.*