CHAPTER 342: CHAPTER 21 SHEPHERD BOY POINTING TO THE APRICOT BLOSSOM VILLAGE_5

They chatted about everything from the desert sandstorms to the notable figures of Yinlang. Their conversation drifted from a thirteen or fourteen-year-old little lady to the mulberry tree in front of the widow’s door. In the end, after much effort, they finally talked Hui Wenzu until he passed out. Zheng Fan got up, called an attendant to take the drunken Hui Wenzu to rest, and then stepped out himself.

A Ming had been waiting at the door for a long time, the water skin in his hand considerably lighter.

"Let’s head back," Zheng Fan yawned, still feeling slightly tipsy. After mounting his horse, Zheng Fan reached out and adjusted the Mo Wan on his chest. Ever since the Mo Wan had blocked an arrow for him in Mianzhou City, Zheng Fan always placed it on his chest when he wasn’t wearing armor. If nothing else, it was guaranteed to stop an arrow.

"My lord, you’ve had too much to drink," A Ming remarked.

"Well, it’s not like there are traffic cops checking for drunk riding in this world."

A Ming smiled. "In a couple of days, the relevant government office in Nanwang City will dispatch someone to Green Willow Fortress with the tally of severed heads and the record of merits."

Even with Hui Wenzu giving him the green light, the internal procedures were numerous. It was unrealistic to get everything sorted in a single day, especially since it concerned the military merits of so many individuals. Zheng Fan estimated he would likely be promoted; a promotion to Assistant General was almost certain. However, with fifteen hundred barbarian soldiers already under his command, whether he was promoted or not didn’t really matter to him. The Yan Army had always valued strength above nominal status.

"Mm," Zheng Fan grunted in acknowledgment. He and A Ming rode slowly out of Nanwang City, but once clear of the gates, they urged their horses into a wild gallop. Under the night sky, feeling the buzz of alcohol, one could easily get carried away.

As the two rode across a small bridge, Zheng Fan reined in his horse, slowing its pace. Beyond the small bridge lay a crossroads. The path to the west led to Green Willow Fortress.

Zheng Fan, however, pointed south. "Do you know where this path leads?"

A Ming replied, "Apricot Blossom Fort."

"Oh, you know of it?"

A Ming smiled. "Apricot Blossom Fort often purchases wine. Their commander must be quite capable." Anyone who could frequently treat the entire fort to wine was no ordinary individual. They certainly wouldn’t indulge so freely unless they had recently achieved significant military merits.

"Heh, he’s a prominent figure from the Deng Family of Sanshi. Damn it, if I hadn’t moved quickly this time, those fifteen hundred barbarian soldiers might have ended up in his hands."

"That would indeed be infuriating." The Demon Lords naturally mirrored their master’s preferences and aversions.

Apricot Blossom Fort wasn’t a common bandit stronghold; it was a military encampment. Fortress commanders like Zheng Fan were appointed based on the pre-existing fortress system. Although Green Willow Fortress was mostly ruins when Zheng Fan arrived—barely enough to raise chickens—at least there was a foundation to build upon. Later, the court dispatched many other commanding generals from different regions, each with their own troops. These generals didn’t even have dilapidated ruins to start with. Not everyone was like Zheng Fan, with someone like Ji Chengjue tirelessly supporting them from behind the scenes. Besides, constructing proper fortresses was time-consuming and laborious, so military encampments were established as substitutes. Now, countless such military encampments dotted the border of Yinlang County.

The naming conventions were also interesting. Setting aside Zheng Fan’s Green Willow Fortress, and looking at Deng Ziliang’s Apricot Blossom Fort, their names were quite refined. In contrast, the fortresses and Beacon Forts on the Qian State border bore names like "Crush the Barbarians" or "Exterminate the Savages," which sounded far more crude and aggressive. This difference, of course, stemmed from the contrasting mentalities of the two sides. Furthermore, influenced by the battlefield poetry composed by the first Earl of North Border a century prior, Yan soldiers consciously aspired to embody more composure and elegance.

"Forget it, let’s head back. There’s still a lot to do in the coming days." Zheng Fan shook his head, trying to clear his slightly muddled thoughts. He had certainly offended Deng Ziliang badly tonight. Yet, Zheng Fan wasn’t afraid. Both commanded soldiers and generals; would Deng Ziliang dare to openly clash with him? Even if Deng Ziliang tried to play dirty behind his back, what a joke! When it came to schemes and plots, Green Willow Fortress had talent in spades!

Suddenly, A Ming’s expression changed. He whispered urgently, "Someone’s there!"

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The next moment, a clatter of hooves erupted as riders burst forth from the withered woods just beyond the small bridge. These cavalrymen, spattered with blood, exuded a terrifying, murderous aura.

Damn it, Deng Ziliang! Playing this rough? Sending men to ambush me the very same night? But he quickly realized something was amiss. Hell, these weren’t Yan Army uniforms! The Yan Army generally favored black, but the colors on these cavalrymen were a bit too varied. Could Deng Ziliang be trying to disguise this ambush as a sneak attack by Qian State forces?

However, when a young general in silver armor rode out and spoke, Zheng Fan was certain. These weren’t soldiers from Apricot Blossom Fort. That accent was unmistakably from the northwest. If this was still part of an act, Zheng Fan would have to give Deng Ziliang a thumbs-up for such an impressively dedicated performance!

"I ask you, which way to Green Willow Fortress? Answer truthfully, and I shall spare your lives!" the general demanded.

Zheng Fan felt it was a good thing he hadn’t worn armor today. He actually disliked wearing it; it was stiff, hard, and cold. Donning armor in the dead of winter was sheer torture. So, after avoiding the poisoning attempt by that Silver Armored Guard couple during the day, his current drunken, disheveled appearance late at night had luckily led to him being mistaken for some intoxicated vagrant.

But now, the identity of these cavalrymen was clear—they were from Qian State! Damn it! Qian State forces actually dared to venture this far north! And they were looking for his Green Willow Fortress right from the start! Looking at the blood on their armor, they must have already overrun another fortress.

"It’s south from here," Zheng Fan immediately replied in an obsequious tone.

A Ming quickly added, "South."

The silver-armored general nodded and waved his hand. "Thanks." With that, he turned his horse and galloped south, his cavalry following their main general in disciplined order.

Huh, they actually kept their word? Zheng Fan was momentarily surprised. But he quickly realized he’d been naive. It was the same kind of naivety he’d displayed two nights prior at the foot of Mianzhou City when he’d claimed he would release the prisoners.

From the rear of the troop, two riders nocked arrows to their bows. One arrow struck Zheng Fan, who shuddered and tumbled from his horse.

Another rider shot an arrow that hit A Ming. Clutching the arrow in his chest, A Ming stared forward in disbelief. "You... you actually... went back on your word..."

THUMP.

A Ming also fell from his horse.

The Qian State cavalrymen exchanged self-satisfied grins, then spurred their horses and continued south after their troop.

「A short while later」

Zheng Fan, who had been lying on the ground, sat up and pulled the arrow from his chest. The arrow had, once again, struck the stone of the Mo Wan.

"Son... thank you."

Having a son is indeed useful. Who wouldn’t appreciate a son who could block an arrow for his old man at a critical moment?

A Ming also sat up and pulled the arrow from his own body.

Zheng Fan looked at A Ming. "Your acting just now..."

A Ming looked back at him. "How was it?"

"Overdone."