AEOGA CH95

This address of “General Helian” made Helian Xi feel utterly delighted in his heart.

The dream of becoming a general that he had kept hidden in his heart since childhood could finally become a reality in broad daylight.

“Then I’ll go in first,” Helian Xi said to Qin Yulong.

Qin Yulong nodded slightly.

Nothing in the military camp could be hidden from Xie Chongjin, not to mention he had already exchanged letters with Helian Yu. The moment Helian Xi arrived, Xie Chongjin knew.

Heavy guards stood outside Lu Xuechao’s tent, showing how thorough his protection was. Seeing that it was Helian Xi, the soldiers did not stop him, only saying that His Majesty was waiting for him inside.

Helian Xi lifted the door curtain. Though small, the interior was fully equipped with everything necessary. Life in a military camp was traditionally harsh, yet inside the tent sat a tea table, a bookshelf, a daybed, an incense burner… While not as delicate as the imperial palace, it was by no means simple or crude.

Lu Xuechao originally had no desire for such trouble—who had the mind to enjoy luxury when a grand war was imminent? Sleeping on a floor mat would have been fine. Yet Xie Chongjin asked if he had forgotten how he had suffered from the harsh, unfamiliar environment and fallen sick for many days when traveling far from home in his youth. If he were not carefully looked after and his body had a mishap at this critical juncture, it would only distract Xie Chongjin further.

Upon reflection, Lu Xuechao realized this made sense and said no more.

Though called Lu Xuechao’s tent, Xie Chongjin actually lived here alongside him; the tent prepared for the Emperor stood empty. Xie Chongjin stated he could only rest easy by personally looking after Lu Xuechao, lest Lu Xuechao be abducted on some dark and windy night.

It was not that Xie Chongjin was overly nervous. Whether in terms of Lu Xuechao’s own value or his importance to Xie Chongjin, both were enough to make him encounter danger.

Entering the room, Helian Xi saw the two sitting together on the ground with a topographical map spread across the tea table, actively discussing tactics.

The commotion of his entrance disturbed them. Lu Xuechao looked up, gazed at the valiant youth clad in armor, and smiled: “This suit looks very majestic.”

Helian Xi possessed exquisite and beautiful features, so delicate as to carry a touch of feminine softness; when staying in the deep palace, he resembled a dodder flower that needed to cling to vines.

This was the first time Lu Xuechao had seen this young prince from an foreign land don a general’s armor, his eyes and brows filled with a resolute expression.

This thriving young sapling had finally ceased dying young, growing into a tall and upright towering tree.

Upon being praised by Lu Xuechao, Helian Xi felt embarrassed instead.

He quickly adopted a solemn expression and asked: “Your Majesty called for me, is there something to instruct?”

Xie Chongjin cut straight to the point: “Have all the weapons for Xifeng’s reinforcements been replaced with the newest ones?”

“My sister instructed that they be changed long ago. The sabers, spears, shields, and halberds were all traded from Changli previously,” Helian Xi said.

By taking advantage of trade exchanges earlier, Changli and Xifeng had secretly conducted arms deals, repairing the plank road in plain sight while crossing the pass in secret, keeping Yelang completely in the dark.

Compared to Changli’s weapons, Xifeng had indeed fallen behind. Helian Yu did not force a false sense of pride; she decisively imported the most advanced weapons and even recommended them to the Kingdom of Leyang.

No one would have thought that among the ships constantly trading back and forth on the sea, while loaded with gold, silver, and goods, several of them were actually carrying weapons.

Now the weaponry and equipment of all three nations had been upgraded to the latest versions. Aside from gunpowder—a secret weapon exclusive to Changli that remained strictly hidden—the cold weapons improved by Lu Xuechao were sold in large quantities to Xifeng and Leyang. It earned money while building good fortune, allowing their allies to possess stronger power to help deal with their common enemy—why not do it?

Lu Xuechao nodded, offering a tub of ointment: “In a moment, I will have someone pass these ointments to you. Distribute them one per person to be smeared onto every soldier’s weapon.”

Helian Xi was startled and asked in a low voice: “Is it poison?”

Though poisoning weapons was looked down upon, it was common on the battlefield; after all, all is fair in war.

It was just that with so many soldiers on the battlefield, coating every single weapon with poison required significant cost. With that effort, it would be better to recruit a few more soldiers and forge a few more weapons. Poisoning methods were generally used only for assassinating enemy commanders and were rarely deployed on a large scale.

Lu Xuechao shook his head: “It is merely a medicine to make the soldiers temporarily rest and recuperate.”

Using poison would be far too insidious.

Yelang had previously purchased massive quantities of anesthetic from Jiangyan Pharmacy, clearly to prepare for wartime. Anesthetic had also been sold to Xifeng and Leyang; thus, all four nations stood at the same starting line in terms of medical supplies.

On the battlefield, whether soldiers could receive effective medical treatment directly affected casualties, morale, and the overall battle situation.

Yelang did not know the mastermind behind Jiangyan Pharmacy was the Changli imperial family; they merely thought the pharmacy master was an ordinary Changli merchant, otherwise they would never have dared to use it.

When letters were sent from Yunzhou asking whether to tamper with the anesthetic sold to Yelang, Lu Xuechao had replied there was no need for rash moves. Yelang was not without miracle doctors or capable individuals; if discovered, it would instead alert the enemy.

What’s more, in the event that some anesthetic was used by common folk, tampering with it could accidentally harm civilians, which would be improper.

He had instructed Jiangyan Pharmacy to keep everything as usual while providing another prescription, without explaining its effects, merely telling them to develop and mass-produce it while withholding it from public sale for the time being.

Yun Yao had no doubts. For the Empress to formulate medicine, it was normal to undergo a process of trial and exploration without being able to determine the final effect. Jiangyan Pharmacy possessed mature pharmaceutical factories capable of realizing Lu Xuechao’s ideas.

Even Jiangyan Pharmacy itself did not know what medicine they were manufacturing, nor did they discover any effect when using it; Yelang was even more clueless about what they were up to.

Used alone, this medicine indeed possessed no effect whatsoever; yet when combined with anesthetic, it produced a miraculous reaction.

Once smeared onto weapons to wound a body, it would react upon coming into contact with anesthetic. Being injured, the wounded soldiers would certainly use anesthetic to relieve pain and receive medical treatment; when that time came, the pain relief was real, but it carried a side effect—it left one utterly fatigued and weak, losing all combat capability and requiring a period of rest before returning to battle.

Wounded soldiers ought to rest properly, shouldn’t they?

This had no impact on life, and the anesthetic could still relieve pain and heal; it merely caused a temporary weakness for ten days to a half-month.

On a rapidly changing battlefield, those ten days to a half-month were enough to decide the outcome of the war.

After discovering something was amiss, Yelang could naturally stop using anesthetic on their soldiers. But how would the Yelang soldiers feel? When there was clearly a way to spare them from pain, yet they were forced to endure the agony and continue fighting, did the imperial court care about their lives? Was it worth risking their lives for such an imperial court?

As long as a small portion of soldiers thought this way, such thoughts would quickly spread throughout the entire army, causing low morale and throwing the army’s heart into disarray. harboring dissatisfaction, they would have no heart to fight.

Changli possessed strict military discipline with extremely high loyalty and obedience; faced with such a situation, the soldiers might understand the decision.

Yet Yelang, which did not treat the lives of its soldiers as lives, might not command such great prestige.

After hearing this, Helian Xi gazed at the small tub of ointment on the table, his eyes gradually turning awe-struck.

Winning without shedding blood—this was truly brilliant.

Yelang played with underhanded tricks, while His Highness played with psychological warfare.

This was Lu Xuechao’s preliminary plan.

They both hoped to devise a flawless strategy that caused the fewest casualties, whether toward their own soldiers or the enemy’s.

On the battlefield, those who took up arms were either allies or enemies.

Yet stripping off their military gear, they were all flesh and blood, with parents, wives, and children—just living human beings.

Unless pushed to absolute desperation, neither Lu Xuechao nor Xie Chongjin wished to deploy gunpowder with its massive destructive power.

Those who truly deserved to die were the Yelang imperial family, who hid high above in their distant palace issuing orders and causing countless deaths and casualties.

–

The Battle of Wolong lasted for seven days.

Mount Wolong possessed treacherous terrain, easy to defend and hard to attack. Dugu Ye’s original stronghold was here, making him familiar with the geography, which provided great aid to the army. Yelang had previously sent soldiers across the border to station here, also mastering the terrain. Neither army held the upper hand.

Although Changli had the assistance of reinforcements from Xifeng and Leyang, neither nation was famous for military might; they could only be said to do what little they could. Yelang poured the strength of its entire nation into a massive offensive, fighting one against three, yet remained evenly matched.

Soon, however, Yelang gradually fell into a disadvantage.

The Yelang generals had originally been full of confidence in this war, even believing there was no need to deploy the living dead unit. They had invited the most famous forging master to replace the army’s armor with the hardest armor and strongest weapons, which was simply not something Changli’s outdated armaments could withstand.

Unexpectedly, Changli’s armaments were not outdated; it was their own intelligence that was outdated.

Without their knowledge, Changli’s weapons and equipment had all been updated, and were far more advanced than their own versions. The extraordinarily penetrating crossbow bolts they were so proud of could not even pierce Changli’s shields; their spears could not puncture the Changli soldiers’ armor; their shields could not block the Changli soldiers’ swords…

Moreover, Changli possessed crossbow bolts as well! Xifeng and Leyang—two military weaklings who had previously relied on Yelang to import even their weapons—actually possessed those weapons as well! Clearly, at a time unknown to Yelang, they had quietly swapped their trade partners for Changli.

The fine weapons carefully developed by Yelang instantly turned into a pile of scrap metal.

And to think their spies had failed to discover any of this…

The confidence of the Yelang generals suffered a massive blow. To make matters worse, they noticed that more and more wounded soldiers were becoming unable to take the field.

Fighting a war made injuries inevitable, leaving wounded soldiers on both sides. The severely injured stayed in bed to recuperate, while the lightly injured simply bandaged themselves up and continued picking up spears to charge onto the field.

The problem was that once their wounded soldiers were smeared with pain-relieving anesthetic, they lost all strength and could not even lift their weapons, let alone fight. When military doctors were brought to check, every single one was at a complete loss, claiming the opponent’s methods were extraordinarily brilliant and they had no way to resolve it.

Looking at Changli in contrast, they similarly used anesthetic, and the medicinal effect was fast and excellent. It was said that a miracle doctor resided in the opponent’s military camp, capable of working miracles to bring the dead back to life—snatching those with a breath left back from the King of Hell, while those with minor injuries could hop around full of vigor the very next day.

Comparing the two, how could the Yelang generals not know there was a problem with the anesthetic Changli provided? They decisively ordered a ban on its use.

This immediate action aroused discontent among the soldiers. Originally, before anesthetic was invented, one could only endure pain raw, and everyone accepted their fate. But now that they knew of anesthetic and had seen the relaxed, pain-free state of their previously injured comrades, who was still willing to suffer pain?

Lu Xuechao’s brilliance lay in the fact that he did not alter the anesthetic into a poison; it remained an essential pain-relieving medicine for treatment with minimal side effects—merely temporary weakness for half a month. Even if the soldiers understood Yelang’s ban, the pain was real upon their bodies, inevitably breeding resentment.

Even with minor injuries, it merely meant missing limbs were not lost; how could a wound caused by a weapon not hurt? Two soldiers with injured arms had their wounds treated without anesthesia; screaming in pain, they could not resist voicing a few complaints, only to be overheard by a passing general and dragged away for military punishment.

This execution to warn the rest reduced the complaints within the army, but filled their hearts with even greater dissatisfaction and bitterness—those two warriors were already injured, yet were subjected to military punishment for a few complaints; receiving such injuries was truly not worth it!

Warriors were meant to exist to protect the country; the reason for starting this war was that Yelang had invaded Changli’s border first, putting them in the wrong to begin with, so the ordinary soldiers’ desire to fight was not very strong.

The hearts of the Yelang soldiers were quietly crumbling, whereas Changli’s morale surged higher, fighting with growing valor.

Their Emperor was leading the personal expedition; this point alone was vastly superior to Yelang’s old Emperor residing comfortably in his imperial palace.

Furthermore, during this period, a beautiful miracle doctor of mysterious background had joined the army. Though always wearing a veiled hat, one could tell through the layer of white gauze that his beauty was matchless; what was more, his voice was gentle and pleasant, possessing the heart of a Bodhisattva and brilliant medical skills…

Many injured soldiers hoped to be the lucky ones personally treated by the miracle doctor.

This living Bodhisattva was, naturally, Lu Xuechao.

At the Wolong border, Xie Chongjin did not need to step onto the field personally; he spent more time sitting in the command tent formulating tactics and arranging the big picture. Merely staying here was enough to maximize morale.

The moment he personally took action would surely be when he slew the ruler of Yelang with his own hand.

While Xie Chongjin was busy, Lu Xuechao did not idle either; at night he discussed strategy with Xie Chongjin, and by day he put on his veiled hat to go out and treat the wounded. The accompanying military doctors were all highly respected imperial physicians from the palace possessing profound medical skills. Yet with too many wounded soldiers, the imperial physicians were short-handed; Lu Xuechao saved as many as he could.

Wearing a veiled hat to hide his identity was naturally to avoid causing a commotion; his face was inherently a factor that could “disturb the army’s heart.”

The imperial physicians, on the other hand, knew the identity of this white-clad miracle doctor. Initially holding only respect in their hearts, seeing the Empress treat the wounded and save lives without the slightest hesitation, they gradually forgot his status and immersed themselves in exchanging medical expertise with him.

Lu Xuechao answered everything asked without holding anything back.

Speaking of which, his medical skills had originally been learned from asking these imperial physicians in his past life; later, the disciple surpassed the master, and now it could be considered giving back.

Unaware of this detail, the imperial physicians merely felt His Highness was truly approachable, instantly treating him as a friend across generations.

Changli fought with increasing vigor while Yelang retreated step by step; if this continued, Yelang would have to withdraw from Mount Wolong and retreat back to Yongye City.

This battle could absolutely not be lost. If lost, his own head would not be preserved—if not severed by Changli soldiers, he would be beheaded by His Majesty.

The Yelang General, Wu Feng, gritted his teeth and ordered: “Go and invite the Imperial Advisor.”

The vice general hesitated: “…Now?”

Wu Feng’s eyes turned cold: “If we cannot cross Mount Wolong, you and I can both wait for His Majesty to behead us.”

The vice general felt his skin crawl: “…Yes!”

That trump card should not have been deployed so early. In the original plan, the Yelang army would need to deploy the living dead unit only after pushing at least to Yujing, the place where Changli’s defense line was strongest.

After all, the fate of those living dead was not very pleasant… If exposed early, the Yelang soldiers would also be terrified, easily unsettling the army’s heart.

Who knew that Changli had played a sick cat for three years, only to roar as a fierce tiger?

Wu Feng narrowed his eyes. He had heard that the Changli Emperor and Empress were also in Wolong City; to capture bandits, one must first capture their king—he needed to think about what to do…