Chapter Thirteen: The Whereabouts of Lin Chong, Captain Lü Liang

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Upon hearing Lu Wu’s question, Lin Ji fell silent for a moment. He did not answer immediately but issued orders instead, commanding his men to break through the chaos in the She Sheng Camp and secure a decisive victory.

Only when two of his personal guards remained by his side did Lin Ji speak to Lu Wu: “Zhong’er is guarding Lord Keyuan. Now that Lord Keyuan has been assassinated, I fear Zhong’er’s prospects are grim.”

These men were all Lord Yuan’s trusted military aides. Placing the eldest son beside Lord Yuan was both a way to nurture the next generation and, in essence, a form of hostage-taking.

“Is Lord Yuan really dead?” Lu Wu asked.

Though inexperienced in succession struggles, he knew well enough that such matters spared no means and that rumors and deception were commonplace. He was not doubting Lin Ji but trying to open a line of thought.

“Undeniably so. Lu Guang blocked our camp’s gate, so I sent men to scale the walls to scout. Though they were trapped outside and couldn’t return, they used signal fires from a distance to confirm the news.” Lin Ji had already considered everything Lu Wu could think of.

“And my brother-in-law?” Lu Wu, however, cared little for anyone beyond his own kin.

“Signal fires can only convey simple messages,” Lin Ji shook his head.

“So Uncle Lin might still be safe? I want to head to Lord Yuan’s mansion in the city and see if my brother-in-law is alright.”

“Heh, Little Five, you underestimate me too much. You’re alone and vulnerable. Wait a moment; after we clear the She Sheng Camp, I’ll go with you.”

“No need. Black God is fast. It’s easier for me alone, and if my brother-in-law needs urgent help, there’s no time to waste.”

Before Lu Wu could finish, without any urging, Black God turned and galloped away like a streak.

Lin Ji reached out to stop him but could only watch the horse’s rear disappear into the distance.

“That’s Lu Wu, the fifth son of the Lu family?” Ji Bao, captain of Lin Ji’s guards, exclaimed.

Some captains were extremely close to their commanders, especially those who had fought alongside them through thick and thin, rising through the ranks step by step. Such captains were like family—Ji Bao even had a seat at Lin Ji’s family banquets.

He had seen Lu Wu as a child, but now, the young man’s demeanor left Ji Bao utterly astonished—under normal circumstances, Lu Wu could have called him “uncle.”

Of course, now he dared not.

“Yes, it’s him. I never imagined this boy would be so... well, so—sigh!” Lin Ji’s emotions were hard to describe, ending only in a sigh.

He felt a deep regret.

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Had he known Lu Wu was so formidable, he would have surely recommended him to serve as Lord Yuan’s personal guard. With Lu Wu by his side, how could Lord Yuan have been mysteriously assassinated?

How could things have come to such a pass?

Though they had broken through the She Sheng Camp’s siege, where else could they go? If they could rescue Lord Yuan’s son, perhaps they could rally under the flag of the orphaned heir and resist somehow.

If not, Lin Ji faced only two choices: become an outlaw or surrender and await the judgment of the new King of Wu—or else wait to see what the Grand General would decide.

“What a pity. If Young Master Lu Wu had acted earlier, we—sigh. I only hope Young Master Lu Wu can bring Little Zhong back alive. Even better if he can return with Lord Yuan’s bloodline intact.”

Ji Bao stopped mid-sentence, knowing that at this stage, words were of little use.

“The situation is not yet hopeless. We can’t rely solely on Little Five. Quickly suppress the She Sheng Camp. Then we’ll see whether we can storm Songjing. If we can protect Lord Yuan’s bloodline, there might still be hope.”

Lin Ji rallied his spirits and spoke resolutely.

“Report: She Sheng Captain Lu Guang is dead. Most of She Sheng Camp has surrendered; a small part has fled.”

“Good. Who beheaded the old traitor Lu Guang?”

“The golden-crowned general who just broke through the encirclement—he killed the She Sheng Captain in a single strike,” the soldier reported.

—

When Lu Wu was present, he never mentioned this. Clearly, he hadn’t even noticed he had slain the She Sheng Captain himself.

—

The thunder of hooves poured like heavy rain as Black God raced toward Songjing City.

Lu Wu took out a candy, bent down, and held it before Black God’s mouth.

The horse curled its tongue and swallowed the candy, snorting happily.

A regular warhorse, after such a continuous, frantic run, would be panting heavily, utterly spent and unable to eat.

But for Black God, less than an hour had passed, with two rest stops in between. This was merely a gentle warm-up, loosening muscles and bones.

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In moments, Songjing City came into view.

The gates were open, but a general stood guard.

Normally, the gates of Songjing stayed open through the night—it was the royal capital of Wu. If enemies reached here unnoticed, Wu would be doomed.

But today was different. Lu Liang, Commander of the Eastern Gate, clad in full armor, personally led two hundred elite troops to guard the gate.

If the five captains of Songjing outside rebelled and stormed the gate, he only needed to hold out briefly before the city walls could be sealed off with heavy portcullises.

Lu Liang hoped that Lu Guang and the others of She Sheng Camp wouldn’t be too effective, so that the Captain of Changshui and others would come to storm the gate, allowing him to claim some credit.

If he could be promoted to the rank of miscellaneous general, he could lead an army independently, leave Songjing, and earn merit on the battlefield—he was a rare warrior of unmatched skill but was stuck guarding the gate, which frustrated him deeply.

Most of Songjing’s five captains were elite troops brought in from various regions, skilled in field warfare, and mostly loyal to Lord Yuan; the six commanders of Songjing were mostly locals who maintained internal order, mostly “skilled” at city defense, and aligned with Lord Jiu’s faction.

This “skilled” was in quotes because most of the soldiers under the six commanders had never truly defended a city.

Since the great war between Wu and Chu thirty years ago, when Wu was defeated and forced to relocate its capital to Songjing, the city had never been attacked.

Lu Liang, barely in his early twenties, stood nine feet tall with broad shoulders and a thick back. His arms wielded a force of a thousand pounds. Skilled with an eighty-four-pound mountain-cleaving axe, he was confident in his unmatched courage. Since becoming Eastern Gate Commander, he often felt his talents wasted.

Though “Commander of the Eastern Gate” sounded respectable, it was really just a gatekeeper role with some jurisdiction over the surrounding area.

Lu Liang had trained his body to the utmost, mastering the family’s Qianyang Great True Strength to the level of real energy, blending internal and external power for immense strength.

Last year, in Songjing’s military exercises, he ranked third, behind only Vice Commander Tong Zhi of the Golden Guard and Commander Ke Ruohua of the Flying Phoenix Guard.

To be honest, Vice Commander Tong Zhi was on another level, having reached the Innate Third Grade, attuned to the forces of heaven and earth.

But Ke Ruohua, Commander of the Flying Phoenix Guard, was a member of the Wu royal family, responsible for the queen’s security, and a woman—Lu Liang dared not compete with her on equal terms.

Many of Lu Liang’s martial techniques required full armor and wielding his axe on horseback; wearing cloth and carrying a short blade made them unusable. When they fought with short blades, he lost unfairly.

But a grown man losing to a woman was humiliating; denying it would be even worse.

So he grudgingly accepted it.