Chương 585: Old Li, let me fire the first shot!

Xu Da nodded and said nothing more.

He knew that Liu Ce understood Li Wenzhong's style better than anyone else, and that sending him to fight the Xianbei meant he had tacitly approved of his actions.

Some things just have to be done by someone.

The dirty and tiring work always has to be done by someone.

Upon receiving Li Wenzhong's battle report, Liu Ce, far away in Luoyang, simply remarked:

"understood."

Fang Xuanling, who was standing nearby, hesitated for a moment and said, "Your Majesty, General Li Wenzhong's killings are too excessive, and he will likely be remembered with a bad reputation. It will also be recorded in the history books, which will not be good for Your Majesty's reputation."

Liu Ce put down the battle report, looked out the window at the north, his eyes resolute, his voice without a trace of hesitation:

"Infamy? What does this infamy matter if it means that the descendants of the Han Dynasty will never again suffer the bullying of the Xianbei?"

"If we show mercy today and spare even one survivor, their descendants will come south again hundreds of years later, killing our people, seizing our land, and burning our houses. I cannot allow such a thing to happen. What I want is to nip the problem in the bud, not to raise a tiger to cause trouble."

Fang Xuanling remained silent, then bowed and said, "Your Majesty is wise."

...

Several months later, on the northern grasslands, at Li Wenzhong's camp.

A messenger brought a transfer order and a private letter: "Reporting to the General! His Majesty has ordered you to lead your troops to the Japanese islands to cooperate with General Qi Jiguang in suppressing the Japanese pirates! This is a private letter from His Majesty to you!"

Li Wenzhong received the imperial edict, read it, and then opened the private letter.

Inside was only a blank sheet of paper with a large character "杀" (kill) written on it in calligraphy. The ink was so strong that it penetrated the paper, making the character appear as if it were written in blood.

Li Wenzhong looked at the word and smiled slightly, a smile that carried an indescribable meaning.

He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the brazier next to him, watching it slowly burn to ashes.

He raised his head and looked at the eastern sea, his eyes so cold they could freeze a person to death.

"Your Majesty, rest assured, I understand your meaning."

"Not a single one will be spared on the Japanese islands."

He turned and walked out of the tent, shouting to the soldiers outside who were wiping their swords:

"Everyone assemble! Pack your things! We're going to the Japanese islands! Let's kill the Japanese pirates!"

"Kill the Japanese pirates! Kill the Japanese pirates!"

The soldiers roared in unison, their voices echoing across the grassland.

These soldiers had been fighting alongside Li Wenzhong in the northern deserts for months, and were already bloodthirsty. When they heard that they were going to kill the Japanese pirates, they were incredibly excited, even more so than during the New Year.

Soon, Li Wenzhong led his cavalry, turned around, and sped eastward.

The sound of horses' hooves thundered, and dust filled the sky.

The few Xianbei people who had miraculously survived on the grassland finally breathed a sigh of relief as they watched the departing figures, then collapsed to the ground and wailed.

They held their child, who had miraculously survived, trembling all over, their lips turning purple.

That killer is finally gone!

Little did they know that the Japanese, far across the ocean, were about to experience the most terrifying nightmare of their lives.

A man more ferocious and cruel than the wolves of the grasslands is leading his army of death toward their island.

What awaits them is a catastrophe even more brutal than that of the northern grasslands.

...

Dunhuang in mid-April.

The sun scorched the sand so hot you could fry an egg on it, and stepping on it barefoot would make you jump three feet high in the heat.

When the wind blows, your face is covered in yellow sand. When you open your mouth to speak, you can eat a mouthful of dirt, crunching and crunching. Even your breath has a muddy taste, and your throat is covered in sand.

A massive force of 100, 000 troops from the Western Theater Command marched into Dunhuang, crowding the small border town.

The streets were filled with Han soldiers carrying muskets and leading warhorses, a dark mass, like ants carrying food.

The old man selling sesame cakes shouted at the top of his lungs, "Freshly baked sesame cakes! Two for one coin! If you don't like them, you don't have to pay!" His voice was hoarse from shouting.

The woman selling grapes chased after the soldiers with a wooden basin, shouting, "Sweet grapes! If they're not sweet, you don't have to pay! Try some!" She followed the soldiers wherever they went.

There were three times more camels carrying goods than usual, blocking the streets and making it impossible to move for a long time. The camels were braying impatiently, their voices rising and falling.

The army set up camp outside the city and rested for three days.

These past three days have been incredibly boring for Yuchi Gong. He would run to the artillery camp before dawn, drooling over the dark cannons, his eyes practically glued to the barrels.

He became sworn brothers with the artillery battalion commander, almost to the point of becoming sworn brothers, all for the chance to fire a cannon himself.

"Old Li, let me fire one shot! Just one shot!" Yuchi Gong rubbed his hands together, his face full of flattery, his expression like that of someone seeing their own father.

"I'll give you my 30-year-old Fenjiu! It's a treasure I've kept for ten years!"

Artillery battalion commander Li Yun, unable to resist his persistent pestering, had no choice but to nod:

"Okay, okay, just one shot! Don't miss! If you miss, who am I supposed to ask for compensation?"

"Don't worry! My aim is perfect!" Yuchi Gong was overjoyed. He quickly ran behind the cannon, aimed at a sand dune in the distance, and pulled the fuse sharply.

"Boom!"

With a deafening roar, the earth shook, and the iron bullet whistled out, blasting half of the sand dune flat. Sand flew everywhere, like a sandstorm.

"Great!" Yuchi Gong jumped up and down excitedly, but when he turned around, he saw Su Lie standing behind him with a dark face, which was even darker than the bottom of a pot.

"Yuchi Gong!" Su Lie said in a deep voice, "Who gave you permission to test the cannon without authorization? You're forbidden from drinking alcohol for three days! Three days!"

"Ah? No, Commander Su!" Yuchi Gong's face immediately fell, his expression even more unsightly than if he were crying.

"I admit I was wrong, okay? You can punish me by making me clean the outhouse, but please don't punish me by making me not drink! Three days without alcohol is worse than death for me! I accept the punishment!"

The soldiers around him were laughing so hard they were doubled over, some laughing until tears streamed down their faces, while others were squatting on the ground clutching their stomachs.

...

On the evening of April 18th, the highest military conference for the Western Expedition was officially convened.

The night watchman's clapper rang loudly outside the command tent. The soldiers on guard stood with their backs straight, their spears gleaming, not even blinking, like wooden figures.

The cold wind made the large black banner with the Chinese character "Han" on the top of the tent flutter loudly, as if it were shouting for the impending war.

Under the moonlight, the camps stretched for dozens of miles.

It looks terrifying; even the wind carries a murderous aura.

The commander's tent was brightly lit by candlelight, as bright as day.

A large sand table, about 12 feet square, was placed on the ground.

The mountains and rivers are carved from wood of different colors: green for plains, yellow for deserts, blue for rivers, and brown for mountains... a hundred times better than the old paper maps.

Both sides were lined with fierce generals: Xue Rengui stood in the main position; Cao Cao, stroking his beard, was taking notes in a small notebook.

Lu Bu and Yuwen Chengdu, arms crossed and looking arrogant; Zhang He and Qu Yi were also seasoned veterans on the battlefield.

Finally, it was Yuchi Gong, who was still holding half a bunch of grapes in his hand, eating as he listened.