Chapter 57

Proofreader : Mim

A crimson moon hung high in the deep blue night sky, stained with the color of blood.

In front of the inferno-lit rebel camp, two figures on horseback stood resolute.

The Moqi siblings sat atop their horses—one clad in black armor that exuded an aura of cold menace, the other in red armor blazing with fearless determination. Moqi Danliao wore a defiant smile as she exchanged a glance with her older brother.

At the same time, the two of them drew their bows into perfect arcs. Two arrows shot in opposite directions, taking down the guards stationed on the watchtowers before they could sound the alarm.

With the rebel king captured and their forces leaderless, the enemy camp was thrown into utter chaos. Low-ranking soldiers were preoccupied with fighting the raging fires and had no attention to spare for what was happening at the front gates.

Moqi Ji and Moqi Danliao turned their heads to look into the depths of the night behind them.

The world was divided into two halves—one illuminated by the fiery glow of flames, the other plunged into pitch-black darkness. From that darkest corner of the night, Xie Lanxu emerged, leading his five hundred cavalrymen. He looked like the Master of the underworld himself.

Everyone awaited his command.

Xie Lanxu’s cold expression was touched faintly by the firelight, giving him an ethereal glow. The blazing red flames reflected in his eyes seemed to disturb his calm, as flickers of desire and ambition roared and swelled within him.

He raised his hand and brought it down in a simple, decisive gesture.

The order was clear to all.

“Charge! Kill them all!”

Li Xiangsheng spurred his horse forward, charging headlong into the enemy camp.

He was like the first raindrop striking the ocean’s surface—his charge sounded the battle cry. The five hundred cavalrymen, led by the fearless Moqi siblings, stormed into the camp like a sudden torrential downpour, throwing the rebels into disarray.

Five hundred against two hundred thousand. They rode with the resolve to kill or die.

These five hundred light cavalrymen were Moqi family’s private forces. The Moqi siblings had used their personal influence to rally and lead them into this desperate battle.

With no fear of death, the soldiers—man and horse alike—cut through the confused and hastily-formed rebel ranks like a scythe through wheat.

In the fire’s crimson glow, blood bloomed like flowers. Before everyone’s eyes, the world turned a searing red.

“Kill!”

Li Xiangsheng seemed tireless, charging wherever the enemy was most concentrated. The blades affixed to his leather armor had already dulled, yet he continued to fight, kicking and spinning in a deadly dance. Fire and blood became his macabre symphony, and his movements—the spins and kicks—were the rhythm to which he fought.

With each step, another enemy fell.

Though his foes bore no visible wounds, their organs and brains had been shattered by the force of his attacks.

It was Li Xiangsheng’s first time killing, yet he showed no fear.

For he had long dreamed of killing—ever since the day his mother was forced to sell her body to support him and his sister. From the moment they arrived in Mingyue Tower, still hopeful for a fresh start, only to be harassed and bullied by the local thugs—he had dreamed of it.

When he saw his mother’s lifeless body pulled from the river, he had nearly marched to the town to slaughter everyone.

In his heart, he wanted to kill all of them. Everyone. Even the cold, uncaring god who had arranged such a cruel fate.

But it was Li Zhi who had pulled him back from the edge of darkness. She had given him and his sister the chance to live a real life again.

And so, he had resolved to repay that gift with his life.

Every enemy before him became a stand-in for those he once hated—be they convicts, thugs, or the treacherous Zheng Gong. He poured all his pent-up regret, helplessness, and anger into every strike, cutting down his enemies with fury.

“Brothers, don’t panic! They’re only a few hundred men!” a rebel soldier cried, rallying his comrades. “We have two hundred thousand—fight back!”

More and more of the rebels regained their senses.

The realization struck them—only a few hundred cavalrymen had dared storm a camp holding two hundred thousand soldiers. The arrogance!

“So what if we’re only five hundred? We’ll still make you beg for mercy!” Moqi Ji, his face covered in blood, laughed wildly as he cut through the chaos from horseback. “Men of the Moqi family would never fight alongside traitors like you!”

“You’re Moqi clan too! Why fight against us?!” a rebel general shouted in anger, speaking the Yi Kingdom’s tongue.

“Because Mingyue Tower is our home! We will not allow anyone to set fire to it!” Moqi Li shouted back fiercely.

He yanked his curved blade from the general’s throat and straightened himself on his horse with practiced ease.

“Brother! Stop wasting time with them—they’re regrouping!”

Moqi Ji lopped off the head of a nearby rebel soldier, the severed head flying into the air, its eyes still wide open in disbelief. His actions spoke louder than any words.

“Brothers, fight on! The imperial reinforcements will be here soon!” Moqi Ji shouted.

Though their spirits were high, the sheer difference in numbers was too great. Once the rebels began to reorganize, the cavalry quickly suffered heavy losses.

Moqi Danliao, her face streaked with blood and her armor riddled with gashes, remained fearless despite the odds.

“Don’t lose heart, everyone! The imperial army—thirty thousand strong—will arrive any moment now!”

Standing tall on her horse, she looked like a triumphant red banner in the midst of battle. Her unwavering determination inspired those around her.

The Moqi cavalry closed ranks tightly around the siblings, vowing to fight to the bitter end.

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

—

Thirty mile outside the gates of Mingyue Tower, a force of 300 elite cavalrymen from the Moqi clan had completely surrounded the city gates.

The Deputy Commander, Liang Yu, was red-faced with fury as he bellowed, “Moqi Ling, don’t you dare overstep your bounds! If you attempt to leave this city today, I’ll have you executed on the spot for treason!”

The head of the Moqi family, Moqi Ling, stood tall, his military helmet glinting in the dim light, his body clad in full armor. Two large blades hung from his waist, and even the horse beneath him wore iron armor.

He glared back at Liang Yu, unflinching: “My four children are outside those gates. If I, as their father, abandon them to die, choosing instead to cower for my life, what right would I have to lead my family? Open the gates! Even if you brand me a traitor today, I will leave this city!”

The Moqi clan, deeply entrenched in Mingyue Tower for generations, carried an undeniable weight. Under the force of the Moqi couple’s presence, the soldiers guarding the gates faltered step by step.

Moqi Ling rode his horse straight through the blockade, the guards instinctively parting before him. His wife—unwavering and fierce as any warrior—dismounted and strode toward the gates, sword drawn.

“Madam, please reconsider! This is no time for reckless actions!” Yu Jingrong, face filled with worry, pleaded earnestly.

“Out of my way! Anyone who stops me will pay with their life!” Madam Moqi’s eyebrows shot up in rage, her presence suffused with murderous intent.

Seeing that the gates were about to be breached, Liang Yu roared furiously, “Moqi Ling, are you trying to rebel?!”

“Liang Yu, don’t you dare slander us!” Moqi Ling bellowed back, his voice full of wrath. “Everyone knows where the Moqi family’s loyalty lies! If you insist on tarnishing my name, then go ahead! Whether you open the gates or not, I am leaving!”

“Fine! If you insist on throwing your life away, then let me execute you myself under military law! Guards!” Liang Yu shouted, and the soldiers behind him drew their swords in unison.

Suddenly, from the watchtower above, a lookout paled as he gazed toward the chaotic horizon. Snapping back to his senses, he struck the war drum with all his might, the deep, resonant sound warning of an enemy advance.

Boom—boom—boom—

The drumbeats echoed across the tower, awakening the still-slumbering border town.

At the city gates, every face paled.

“This is bad! The enemy is attacking!”

The looming external threat pushed the internal conflict aside. Liang Yu and Yu Jingrong rushed up to the city walls, while the Moqi couple, fearing their children were involved, followed closely behind.

On the distant horizon, a cavalry force led the charge, followed by infantry—a shadowy black tide advancing toward Mingyue Tower, heavy and oppressive like a thundercloud.

As they drew closer, Moqi Ling’s expression changed drastically. “That… that is…”

At the head of the ominous force rode Xie Lanxu. His jet-black hair whipped in the biting wind, and beneath his fine, slender eyebrows lay a pair of dark, fathomless eyes. His expression remained calm and serene, yet the dark jade-purple robe he wore was splattered with blood.

In his arms sat Li Zhi, her face concealed behind a veil, but her resolute posture on horseback exuded a beauty as sharp as a blade.

Behind Xie Lanxu marched his blood-soaked warriors, calm and resolute.

—–

An hour earlier.

Just as the Moqi siblings began to lose ground, their forces overwhelmed and pushed to the brink of collapse—

The earth began to tremble faintly.

One rebel soldier halted in confusion, turning to look toward the source of the tremors. More followed, their faces shifting to stunned disbelief.

A black line stretched across the horizon—an endless line of fully armed, bloodthirsty Yan soldiers.

Behind them, clouds of dust rose, obscuring the sky, giving the illusion of an endless, unstoppable force.

At their forefront rode Xie Lanxu. Rising steadily from his saddle, he stood on horseback, drawing his longbow to its full extension. Something dark and unidentifiable swayed at the tip of the arrow.

His expression was unwavering, his focus absolute.

He released the bowstring.

Under the flame-divided sky, the arrow whistled through the air, piercing the rebels’ now-empty command tent.

Attached to the arrow was the severed head of Moqi Chuanmin, eyes wide in eternal shock and terror.

“King!”

A chorus of wails rang out as the rebel army’s morale shattered completely, as irreversibly as a collapsing mountain.

“The reinforcements are here! The imperial reinforcements have arrived!” Moqi Danliao’s voice rang out.

Moqi Ji and Moqi Li shouted alongside her, “The reinforcements are here! Don’t be afraid—charge with us!”

The remaining Moqi cavalry echoed their cries, and the tide of the battle turned as they struck back against the enemy encirclement.

With Moqi Chuanmin dead and the imperial reinforcements in sight, the rebels abandoned all hope of resistance.

The first deserter appeared, and like a contagion, the panic spread uncontrollably.

In mere moments, the once-mighty rebel force scattered like frightened rats, their ranks reduced to utter chaos.

Little did they know that the Yan “reinforcements” they so feared were nothing more than a thousand ordinary infantrymen carrying flaming torches.

—–

By dawn, Xie Lanxu led the victorious forces back to the city gates. After verifying their identities, the gates swung open with a heavy groan.

Li Xiangsheng sat atop his horse, face expressionless, his lips pressed into a thin line. Behind him, Li Cien sat in a cart alongside the blind old woman, describing the scene around them. Upon hearing that the crisis had been averted, tears of relief flowed from the old woman’s sightless eyes.

Qin Ne strode proudly at the front of the thousand-strong infantry, his loyalty and camaraderie enabling Xie Lanxu to secure their assistance.

As for the Moqi siblings, their pride was unmistakable as they returned triumphant.

The citizens of Mingyue Tower, drawn out by the alarm of the war drums, lined the streets in awe. Their gazes followed Xie Lanxu and the veiled Li Zhi as they rode past.

The dark clouds yielded to the golden sun, its rays spilling forth like a fountain, glimmering upon the bloodied armor of every soldier.

The silent, somber army—black as a river of shadow—flowed into the city. Each man and horse bore the severed heads of their enemies, trophies dripping with blood.

Moqi Chuanmin’s head hung from Xie Lanxu’s saddle. The fear and agony in his bloodshot eyes told the gathered onlookers the story of his gruesome end.

The streets were silent, save for the sound of heavy breathing.

Notes:

1. The Symbolism of the Crimson Moon: The red moon often signifies an omen of war, bloodshed, or impending disaster in Chinese literature and folklore. Here, it sets an ominous tone for the climactic battle.
2. Moqi Danliao as a Banner of Hope: Her red armor and courageous leadership evoke imagery of loyalty and heroism. In traditional Chinese storytelling, female warriors who embody bravery and sacrifice often take on symbolic roles as rallying points for their comrades.
3. The Crimson Moon and Fire Imagery: The consistent use of red (the moon, flames, blood) evokes chaos, destruction, and transformation—hallmarks of dynastic conflicts in Chinese historical literature.
4. Li Zhi’s Role: Despite being veiled and silent, her presence alongside Xie Lanxu underscores her importance in his plans. Her resilience mirrors her role as an unyielding partner in both strategy and survival.