HCAW 116

Chapter 116: Ten Thousand Layers of Siege

Because of the blood he had lost, the moment Fang Jingyu unleashed that sword strike, his vision went dark and his body lost all strength. Countless civilians surged toward him, clawing at him as if to tear him apart. But just then, a pair of hands reached in from the crowd and grabbed him fiercely by the collar.

He was dragged out of the crowd and thrown onto the back of a warhorse. Perhaps thanks to Xiao Jiao’s divine power, the wound on his severed arm had stopped bleeding, but the pain still throbbed violently. A flurry of urgent voices filled his ears—horses screaming, maddened civilians shrieking, Xiao Jiao calling out to him, “Tight-lipped gourd!”—and the person who had lifted him onto the saddle shouted:

“Your Highness!”

Fang Jingyu forced his eyes open and saw that it was indeed Chu Kuang. His complexion was even paler than before, body burning hot, breathing labored. He squeezed the horse’s sides with his knees, one hand on the reins, the other wielding the Chengying Sword, carving a bloody path as crimson blossoms bloomed beside them like cuckoos in spring. The Yingzhou soldiers whom Fang Jingyu had saved earlier had finally broken through and rallied to his side, shouting:

“Your Highness! We swear to escort you out of the gates with our lives!”

Though Gu Bi Guard had been split apart, the Xian Mountain officiers and civilians under his control continued their frenzied assault. The group fought desperately to protect Fang Jingyu as they advanced. The Daiyu guards loosed volley after volley of bronze-tipped arrows like swarming locusts. The Yingzhou soldiers blocked them with their bodies, one after another falling in the onslaught. Fang Jingyu was barely conscious, but through the haze he caught glimpses of the carnage, his heart gripped with dread. He struggled and cried:

“No… stop… don’t save me.”

His chest held ten thousand words. He had come here to save others, but in the end it had all been reversed—everyone was now risking their lives to save him. The thought alone filled him with unspeakable sorrow.

Hammer-head arrows, iron-spined shafts, flying barbs rained down like a storm; spears, glaives, sabers, and halberds surged in from all directions. Time and again, Fang Jingyu heard the dull thud of bodies striking the ground. His eyes blurred with tears, and still he cried out:

“Stop… saving me. I came to save you… but now you’re dying because of me…”

A soldier bellowed, “We are loyal and true, devoted to our cause! This life of ours was always meant to be given for Your Highness—what’s there to regret?!”

Fang Jingyu was speechless, stars swimming in his vision. A shield was pierced clean through—someone threw themselves over him as a living shield and died impaled by a thousand arrows. Another shielded his head and face, but had his skull smashed open, brains and blood splattering over Fang Jingyu’s body. A third was skewered by a long spear, but still dragged the shaft behind him, guarding Fang Jingyu for a full li before collapsing.

It was only now that Fang Jingyu realized—the road out of Xian Mountains was paved entirely in blood and flesh. He had been too naive, still clinging to a foolish hope of reaching Guixu unscathed.

When Chu Kuang turned his head and saw Fang Jingyu’s hollow gaze, he was startled. “What’s wrong, Your Highness?”

Fang Jingyu said blankly, “I made a grave mistake… I knew this journey would mean death, but I didn’t think I’d drag others down with me…”

He had planned to go alone, using Fatty Ji as a hostage to carve open a path to Guixu and force Gu Bi Guard to appear, hoping to die with him. Chu Kuang had greater martial skill and sharper insight; Zheng Deli was well-read and possibly protected by the Bai Huan Guard—they were all better suited to be the so-called “fated one” to break free. As for him, he was only a burden. As a child he had caused his older brother’s death. Leaving Penglai, the Langgan Guard and his men had nearly died for him. In Yingzhou and Yuanqiao, Chu Kuang had again and again risked his life for his sake.

What right did he have to trample over others’ bones to reach Guixu? What right did he have to be revered as the so-called “Emperor Bai’s son”?

Chu Kuang clenched his jaw and turned away. “Enough. We’ll talk later!”

At that moment, from the winding alleys and lanes, countless civilians in pale robes surged forward, pupils dark, chanting softly—every one of them bearing Gu Bi Guard’s features, sneering:

“Your Majesty, please stay.”

A Yingzhou sailor cried out in terror: “But… but Your Highness clearly cut that black-mud thing down! How is it still alive?!”

“Gu Bi Guard long ceased to be human,” Chu Kuang shouted. “Blades can’t kill him! Retreat to Yuanqiao—we’ll regroup there!”

Just then, a thunderous rumble rolled in like a landslide. A great host of armored riders swept forth—faces masked, chestplates gleaming, mounted on ironclad steeds, halberds in hand. Like a silver-gray tide, they howled across the sky.

The resistance fighters shouted in alarm: “Daiyu Iron Cavalry!”

Between the guards and crazed civilians, they were already hard-pressed—and now came the cavalry like an iron wall. Dust filled the air, frost-tipped spears and silver armor stretching from horizon to sky. War drums shook the mountains. Fang Jingyu gripped his severed arm as the world spun around him.

Their warhorse charged forward. Spears clashed, halberds scraped. Each cavalryman moved with uncanny precision, controlled by the Gu Bi Guard. They wheeled and circled like lightning strikes, cutting down several more Yingzhou soldiers in a flash.

“Protect His Highness at all costs!” the remaining soldiers cried.

Chu Kuang spurred his horse down narrow alleys. Here, the cavalry had less room to maneuver. He spun and fired arrows—each shot perfectly aimed at the slits in the enemy’s helmet. The riders screamed and fell, but the power of the “Immortal Elixir” forced them to rise again.

Then, from the paper windows of roadside shacks, countless arms reached out toward Fang Jingyu, grabbing at him. It was as if they were sinking into a swamp—unable to take a single step forward.

Through his dimming vision, Fang Jingyu saw everyone around him fighting with all their might. The alleys ran with blood. Flesh and bone flew through the air. It was a scene of unspeakable horror.

At last, his eyes went black.

He passed out.

_____

To Gu Bi Guard, the Three Xian Mountains were his very body. Every movement within them could be sensed by him. Now, a whisper reached him from his extremities—it was a report from the cavalry under his command.

“Reporting—Lord Gu Bi Guard, we lost them!”

Even across a hundred li, the voice echoed in Gu Bi Guard’s mind. His elegant brows furrowed, and he transmitted his thoughts: “What happened? Can they burrow through the earth?”

“They haven’t yet reached the outer Daiyu’s gate—they disappeared near Zhaoyao Alley.” A moment later, another voice chimed in, excited: “My lord, a scout has reported spotting a similar figure near Tangting Road. He wore a straw hat and black robes—no cloak!”

Gu Bi Guard said, “Seal the city gate. Did the man carry weapons? Was he accompanied?”

“Yes. He carried a sword with a dragon pattern. The boy surnamed Chu was with him.”

“That can only be Fang Jingyu,” Gu Bi Guard said, eyes closed, a cruel smile curling on his lips. “Capture him alive.”

______

In the darkness, someone gently shook Fang Jingyu’s shoulder and called softly:

“Your Highness. Your Highness.”

Fang Jingyu’s whole body ached like he’d been beaten with a cudgel, and his eyelids were heavy as lead. When he opened his eyes, he saw Chu Kuang kneeling before him.

They were inside a dilapidated house, dust floating through the air, long abandoned. Chu Kuang dipped a cloth in water, pressed it to his lips, and looked at him with deep concern.

Fang Jingyu’s lips were cracked. His voice rasped:

“Where… is this?”

“We haven’t left Daiyu yet. Found a place to hide first. Miss Qin found out that there are no spies of Gu Bi Guard here. We’ll rest here for now.”

“What about Xiao Jiao?”

“Out on lookout. With what’s left of the Yingzhou soldiers.”

“How many are left?”

Chu Kuang was silent a moment. “One.”

A sharp, tearing grief cracked through Fang Jingyu’s chest. He whispered, “O-one?”

“The others are gone. Your Highness, don’t mourn—surviving that mountain-crushing assault, even if it’s just one man, is already a great fortune.”

Fang Jingyu lifted his head and looked toward a broken clay vent embedded in the wall. Through it, he could faintly see the dark face of a young man with a crooked topknot, no headwrap, with the little nine-tentacled octopus perched on his shoulder, chattering. The boy responded nervously. Chu Kuang said, “His name is Ah Que. I knew him back in Yingzhou. If I’m not around, rest easy—he’ll still get Your Highness out of Daiyu.”

Fang Jingyu’s heart thumped. “What do you mean, ‘if you’re not around’?”

Chu Kuang didn’t answer. He only asked quietly, “Does Your Highness’s arm still hurt?”

Fang Jingyu insisted, “What did you mean by that just now?”

But Chu Kuang only stared calmly at his wrist. Fang Jingyu looked down—his severed arm was tightly wrapped in cloth, covered in ashes. “It still hurts a little,” he said, “but it’s not too bad.”

“Qin girl stopped the bleeding. But with Gu Bi Guard’s poison, it won’t heal fast.” Chu Kuang smiled faintly. “If you’d eaten one of those meat slices, the arm could’ve regrown easily. But after seeing what I looked like… better not. The headaches are unbearable, the wounds won’t close.”

But Fang Jingyu wasn’t focused on that. “What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t be around?”

Chu Kuang said nothing. Just smiled at him.

A sudden chill crawled down Fang Jingyu’s spine. That gaze—it was the same as ten years ago. Back when the Fang estate still smelled of flowers, when Fang Minsheng leaned on the holly tree, watching him stumble through breathing exercises. Chu Kuang’s gaze now… was that same quiet, sorrowful look his brother once had.

Chu Kuang said, “This is where we part, Your Highness.”

It was like the sky cracked open. Something hot burst inside Fang Jingyu’s chest—ash raining down over molten fire. “Why?” he choked.

He remembered how Chu Kuang once said he’d always stay by his side. Now he was going back on it. Chu Kuang gave a small laugh. “There are spies everywhere. If I go with Your Highness, it’s too obvious.”

“One more person doesn’t make a difference!”

“I’ll go draw their attention. Lead them away. Then you’ll have a clear path to Yuanqiao.”

“You’re talking nonsense!” Fang Jingyu’s eyes went bloodshot. He grabbed Chu Kuang’s sleeve with his one hand. Chu Kuang gently peeled his fingers away. “Back then, Your Highness always insisted on rushing ahead alone. I was the one worrying. Now you know how that feels.”

“There’s no need for you to do this—”

“We’re different. I understand that to get something done, you have to pay a price.”

Fang Jingyu’s heart was in chaos. It pounded wildly. His head was spinning. He couldn’t find the words. At this moment, Chu Kuang suddenly clenched his hand, as if grasping his pulse and heartbeat.

“But,” Chu Kuang said softly, “I don’t think you were wrong. I’ve just made a different choice.”

The light filtering through broken beams lit the dust in the air. For a moment, the two of them were frozen like a mural faded by time. Fang Jingyu looked up. His red eye shimmered like the setting sun, full of sorrow.

Chu Kuang said, “Let me tell you a story. A good man once helped an old woman across a bridge. Then he turned back to cross again. But a sudden flood swallowed the other side. The old woman drowned. The good man blamed himself. That’s when he realized—just because you have a good heart doesn’t mean good things will happen. Right now, you’re like that man.”

“I know your heart. I know you want to save everyone. You might not succeed now—but I’m grateful that you still hold that wish. Because of that, even when armies fell and the cost was great, Emperor Bai still went to Guixu. The Tianfu Guard, as his blade fought fiercely. You are not them. And that’s why you might finish what they never could.”

He spoke in one breath and gasped slightly at the end. “The Three Xian Mountains are tainted. Your best path now is to return to Yingzhou. Regroup. Retreat, then advance.”

His eyes burned like flame. Fang Jingyu’s chest felt tight. Tears welled up. His voice cracked. “Did I do everything wrong? If I hadn’t brought the Yingzhou soldiers—wouldn’t things be better? If I’d gone straight to Yuanqiao—would fewer people have died?”

“That’s not right. If you’d brought them all from the start, we still would’ve been scattered by storm at sea. More would’ve died. Our small group was like scouts. We were meant to test the road ahead. Even if we failed—it’s alright. Just try again.”

Fang Jingyu felt something hot crawl down his cheeks. Tears. He hadn’t cried in so long. Not since he left the Fang estate. Since he swore to become a blade for the Yu Yin Guard.

But Chu Kuang always peeled his armor away, layer by layer—turning him back into that helpless child from long ago.

He choked. Finally asked, “Do I still… have a chance to try again?”

Chu Kuang’s gaze softened. “You do. That’s what I’m going to win for you.”

He stood up. Fang Jingyu tried to grab his robe but was too weak. Chu Kuang picked up the satchel. “We still need blood from Bi Bao Guard and Gu Bi Guard. I’m going to find Gu Bi Guard.”

“Don’t go.”

Fang Jingyu struggled, reaching out. But all he saw was his severed wrist. Hopelessness washed over him. He couldn’t even hold him back. Chu Kuang was too stubborn. No words would change his mind.

Fang Jingyu staggered to his feet, feverish, but collapsed again—helpless.

Chu Kuang picked up the Hanguang Sword. At the doorway, he turned and smiled. That smile, lit by sunlight, seemed woven with gold—serene, solemn, like a forgotten statue in a ruined shrine.

“When Emperor Bai left Penglai, a thousand troops followed. Today Your Highness has only me. I’ll be your thousand men.”

“I don’t want you showing off—I want you to come back!” Fang Jingyu finally lost it, shouting.

Chu Kuang said, “I told you—if every other piece on the board is lost, I’ll be your last pawn. And I’m sure you’ve heard the saying…”

He stepped out. The sun swallowed him whole.

“A man of honor gives his life for the one who truly understands him.”