Chapter Sixty-Seven: Into Battle

After making his rounds, Yuanye returned once again to the Prefect’s yamen. He dismissed the accompanying guards and entered the main hall alone.

On the hall’s wall hung an enormous map, meticulously marking the various powers that held sway in the south. At present, aside from Lin’an Prefecture, which their Black Banner Army had seized, there were still several other bands of rebel forces scattered across the region.

Zhao Junyong and Peng Da commanded troops occupying Xuzhou (in modern Jiangsu). Other minor forces, such as Zhang Shicheng, Xu Shouhui, Fang Guozhen, and Chen Youding, also raised banners in revolt, yet each harbored their own grievances and rivalries. Even the Celestial Eagle Sect’s forces in Zhejiang and beyond launched sporadic attacks against the Yuan army.

But none of these groups could muster truly formidable numbers. The largest, Zhao Junyong and Peng Da, barely commanded a force of under one hundred thousand. Others simply scraped together a few thousand men, seized a small town or two, and proclaimed themselves righteous armies.

As for the future giants of rebellion, Chen Youliang was likely still under Cheng Kun’s tutelage at this point; in fact, according to reports sent by the Jiuzhou Trading Company, there was as yet no such figure as Chen Youliang in the Beggar Sect. Zhu Yuanzhang, for his part, was merely a branch leader of the Ming Sect’s Fengyang outpost, one among many, far from being the principal head.

In this world, Zhu Yuanzhang’s true rise to power still depended on the extraordinary talent for command he displayed during the siege of Bright Summit by the Six Great Sects. Only after being entrusted with heavy responsibility by Zhang Wuji did he gradually begin to unite the disparate rebel bands under the Ming Sect’s banner; otherwise, with such a fractious alliance, it would have been a miracle if they didn’t fall to infighting.

Yuanye had stood there for less than half an hour when Xu Da and Li Shanchang entered.

“Greetings, my lord.”

“Baishi, Tiande, you’ve come. Come, look here—let’s discuss our next move,” Yuanye beckoned them over.

Both Xu Da and Li Shanchang studied the map’s tangled web of forces with furrowed brows.

After a moment, Xu Da spoke: “My lord, though these rebels raise banners against the Yuan, their harm to the people is no less than the Yuan soldiers. We ought to sweep them away in one stroke.”

“We must plan carefully,” Li Shanchang countered. “For now, our foremost enemy remains the Yuan.”

For days after, Lin’an City remained sealed and quiet, no one entering or leaving. Half a month later, on the tenth day of the sixth month, as the sun rose over the city, suddenly the west, north, and south gates swung open.

Three armies poured forth from the gates, fanning out in three directions. These forces, led by Xu Da, Deng Youde, and Feng Sheng, were determined to seize the entirety of Lin’an Prefecture before the Yuan troops could react.

While Yuanye was laying siege and conquering territory in Lin’an, an unexpected visitor arrived at the headquarters of the Celestial Eagle Sect.

Yin Tianzheng, now in his early seventies, remained vigorous and hale, personally overseeing sect affairs each day.

In his study, Yin Tianzheng lit an oil lamp and perused the reports delivered by disciples at noon.

“Ah, the Yuan army’s attacks grow fiercer by the day,” he sighed.

Since the Wudang Assembly, conflicts between the martial sects and the Celestial Eagle Sect had decreased markedly these two years. Thus, Yin Tianzheng had committed his main forces to resisting the Yuan. This, however, had drawn the ire of the imperial court, and over these two years the sect had suffered heavy losses: dozens of branch leaders had fallen in battle, and even two hall masters had died. No wonder Yin Tianzheng’s brow was perpetually creased with worry.

“Elder Yin, may I disturb you?” Suddenly, a clear voice sounded from outside his study. Yin Tianzheng’s expression changed, for his residence lay deep within the headquarters, heavily guarded, yet someone had approached silently to his very door—an alarming feat.

“Could it be someone like that young man?” Yin Tianzheng thought, recalling how Yuanye had arrived in similar fashion six years before.

“I wonder which esteemed master graces me with their presence,” Yin Tianzheng called out.

Since the visitor had entered so stealthily and spoken with courtesy, at least they were not an enemy. Yin Tianzheng harbored no fear.

After speaking, he opened the door and stepped outside, where, beneath the moonlight, a young woman in yellow stood quietly atop a treetop, ethereal and graceful.

“Yang Yaoqin greets Elder Yin,” she said with a slight bow as Yin Tianzheng emerged.

Yin Tianzheng was not only highly skilled in martial arts but also possessed keen eyesight. At a glance, he recognized that Yang Yaoqin’s lightness skill rivaled that of his fourth brother, the Blue-winged Bat King Wei Yixiao.

Though Yang Yaoqin appeared no older than twenty, Yin Tianzheng dared not be remiss and returned the bow. “Miss Yang, your skills are truly remarkable. May I ask what brings you to our sect this evening?”

Yang Yaoqin lightly tapped her toes and floated down from the treetop, landing gracefully before him. “Thank you for your praise, Elder. I am here to convey a message from my lord to you.”

“Your lord?” Yin Tianzheng’s brows knitted in puzzlement. Who could this “lord” be, to command such formidable subordinates?

From her descent, Yin Tianzheng could tell this young woman possessed profound inner strength and exceptional training. Yet, despite decades spent roaming the martial world and a vast intelligence network, he had no information on her—as if she had simply emerged from the depths of the earth.

And indeed, he would not have been wrong; Yang Yaoqin truly had come from underground—the Ancient Tomb, after all, was buried in the mountain’s heart.

“Miss Yang, are you an agent of the Yuan court?” Suddenly, Yin Tianzheng thought of a possibility, and his expression darkened as he quietly readied himself for any danger.

“Heh! The Yuan court is beneath my notice. How could they command me?” Yang Yaoqin replied with contempt.

She had every right to be disdainful. Years ago, the great Khan Möngke of the Mongols was killed by her illustrious ancestor, the Divine Eagle Hero Yang Guo, with nothing more than a hurled stone—surely the least dignified imperial death in history. At least today’s emperors had the decency of a silken cord or a cup of poison.

Yin Tianzheng relaxed at her words, breathing a sigh of relief. Though he looked down on the Yuan court, if Yang Yaoqin had been one of their agents, he would have been prepared to fight to the death.

“My apologies for the misunderstanding. May I ask who your lord is, and what message you bring?” Yin Tianzheng cupped his fists in respect.

Suddenly, a sharp shout rang out. “Who dares trespass in my Celestial Eagle Sect?” A gaunt man burst into the courtyard. Seeing a woman in yellow standing before Yin Tianzheng, he wasted no words, simply lunged, spreading his fingers into eagle claws as he struck for her back.

Yang Yaoqin’s face turned cold at the sudden attack. Proud as she was, she held little regard for the martial artists of the world. Only because her business concerned Yuanye did she treat Yin Tianzheng with courtesy. But this man’s abrupt assault truly angered her.

“Yewang, stop!” Yin Tianzheng shouted, but it was too late.

Just as his claws neared her back, Yin Yewang heard his father’s cry, but could not change his move in time.

At that moment, Yang Yaoqin’s own hand arced in a swift countermove—claw against claw.

A sharp tearing sound—the Eagle Claw technique was instantly broken. Yin Yewang spat blood and was flung backward, his chest scored with five slanted claw marks, his robes shredded, beads of blood welling through the skin.

Yin Tianzheng leaped to his son’s side and channeled inner energy into him. After a moment, Yin Tianzheng’s expression eased.

“Thank you for your mercy, Miss,” he said sincerely.

After a brief examination, he found that Yin Yewang had suffered only superficial wounds; the blood he coughed up was merely due to conflicting inner energies. In fact, he was not internally injured at all. Yin Tianzheng understood at once—this young woman had held back.

“No need for thanks, Elder,” Yang Yaoqin replied with a faint smile.

At that moment, several more hall masters of the Celestial Eagle Sect rushed in. Bai Guishou, surveying the scene in the courtyard, was utterly bewildered—how had the young master been injured, while the sect leader chatted amiably with a stranger?

“Prepare a banquet. I wish to entertain Miss Yang,” Yin Tianzheng instructed Bai Guishou.

“At once, Sect Leader,” Bai Guishou replied respectfully, ushering the others away.

“Miss Yang, please, let us talk as we dine,” Yin Tianzheng said courteously.

From Yang Yaoqin’s earlier display, he had seen that even he would struggle to defeat her. Best, then, to first discern her purpose.

Yang Yaoqin nodded gently and followed him into the main hall.

Yin Yewang still sat on the ground, regulating his breath, not yet recovered. Even if he had, he would likely have needed to compose himself a bit longer—after all, to attack by stealth and be defeated in a single move was a terrible humiliation.

That night at the feast, none of the Celestial Eagle Sect’s members knew what the mysterious woman and their leader discussed. Yet the very next day, Yin Tianzheng announced that the sect would abandon its lands in the south and relocate en masse to Shandong.

The hall masters pleaded earnestly, but the young master Yin Yewang remained silent and sullen throughout. In the end, finding Yin Tianzheng unmoved, they could only notify the disciples to pack up and move their families north.

Meanwhile, the Black Banner Army’s advance was equally unstoppable. On the ninth day of the fifth month of the fourteenth year of Zhizheng, Xu Da led thirty thousand troops to take Xuancheng. The Yuan garrison, caught sleeping as the Black Banner forces stormed the camp, were only roused when the enemy entered their midst.

Two thousand Mongols were slain, and ten thousand Han troops surrendered. The next day, the surrendered soldiers were reorganized and the army pressed on to Anqing.

Feng Sheng, upon leaving Lin’an, marched northeast to Huzhou. On the tenth day of the fifth month, he captured the city, accepted the surrender of five thousand Han soldiers, and immediately turned toward Lake Tai.

Deng Youde’s campaign was easiest of all. His troops advanced south into Fujian, where Mongol power was weakest and the Jiuzhou Trading Company maintained its headquarters. In city after city, as soon as the Black Banner’s standard appeared, Han commanders—long since bought off by Jiuzhou—rose in rebellion, killed the Yuan officials, and welcomed the army at the gates.

Thus, Deng Youde merely had to press forward, leaving administration of the rear to Zhang Songxi and Zhang Cuishan, who had been working in secret there for years. Both men were adept in both civil and martial matters, and with Jiuzhou’s network of scholars, quickly established an effective administration.

By the fifteenth year of Zhizheng, Xu Da’s army had captured Tongling and Wuhu, and now threatened Jiqing. His forces had swelled to two hundred and fifty thousand, all battle-hardened veterans.

Feng Sheng’s one hundred thousand Lake Tai marines had taken Suzhou, Changzhou, and Yangzhou, and were converging on Jiqing along the Yangtze.

Deng Youde, having secured Fujian, Guangzhou, and Jiangxi, was also leading two hundred thousand troops to reinforce the assault.

Only Chang Yuchun, commanding one hundred thousand troops in Jiangxi, was still locked in bitter combat with the Yuan.

At this point, Jiqing had become the storm center of the realm. Should it fall, the Yuan court would lose nearly all of its territory south of the Yangtze. Without the river as a natural barrier, there would be little hope of crushing the Black Banner Army in the future.

For this reason, Emperor Shundi, in a rare display of resolve, overruled his ministers and appointed the warlike Prince of Ruyang as Grand Marshal of the Realm, entrusting him with eighty thousand troops to defend Jiqing.

On the eighth day of the third month, Yuanye personally set out at the head of thirty thousand Black Dragon Cavalry, marching from Lin’an straight toward Jiqing. At the same time, countless knights and heroes of the martial world flocked there, eager to take part in this great battle.

This was destined to be a war remembered for ages, a battle that would determine the very fate of the Chinese nation.