Chapter 366: Be careful with flames when you wake up, let’s check even the extinguished ones again (9)

The seasoned soldiers of the Daesoon Commander exchanged glances and flicked their fingers.

Hand signals. Their gazes exchanged smoothly, fingers opened and closed, fists tapped into palms, they silently conversed, several of them at once.

If the level of hand signals used simply to hide their presence was like this, it showed clearly how elite this unit was.

And so, the hand signal conversation went:

—Stop. Civilian obstacle ahead. Two guard posts. One breach point. No sentries.

—Stop. Iron crossbows on standby. Vanguard will approach and observe.

—Civilian obstacle sealed. No sentries. No sign of enemy. Breach?

—Decision withheld. Stand by and listen.

A while of silence passed. About one-quarter of a watch.

The scouts, pressed tightly on both sides of the closed wooden gate, sent hand signals again.

—No sign of enemy.

—Stand by.

The general and lieutenant began quietly discussing the {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} situation, like the sound of wind leaking through.

They must’ve seen the wildfire, maybe they evacuated?

There’s smoke rising from several places.

Maybe they left without properly putting out the fire.

Even so, the smoke further away is too rough. Not wildfire. Someone must have added more firewood to raise the flames.

What will you do? Force breach?

It’s a civilian village. No need to stir up unnecessary trouble. First, call them out. If there’s no response, we breach.

Understood.

The lieutenant raised both hands high and stepped toward the village’s wooden palisade gate, one step at a time.

They said there were no sentries, and indeed, no other presence was felt.

The lieutenant inhaled deeply and let out the booming voice of a northern man.

“I AAM—!!”

Creeeeak!

At the same time, the wooden door creaked and twisted as it carefully opened.

The lieutenant blinked.

What the hell? I didn’t even tell them to open the door yet. I haven’t even introduced myself.

Qing was startled too.

What the hell? What is this guy doing, standing quietly at the door, then screaming for no reason the moment I open it?

The Jinyiwei were resting on the northern side of the village. Qing had taken the chance to sneak toward the south gate.

The moment the door opened, some guy shouted like he had been waiting for it.

With a rope strapped across her chest and the cart parked right behind, Qing stood there holding a sweet potato, exchanging extremely awkward glances with the stranger.

Crunch. Qing bit the sweet potato once.

Crunch. Took one step back.

Crunch. Another step.

Crunch. Three steps.

Crunch. Four steps. Her backside finally touched the cart.

Qing pushed the cart backward with her backside, quietly retreated, and slowly closed the door again.

Creeeeak.

The wooden palisade creaked as the door slowly closed, as if to pretend nothing had happened.

The lieutenant shouted urgently.

“Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot!”

Gulp.

Qing, startled, swallowed the half-chewed sweet potato.

Luckily, it was cooked sweet potato, so it didn’t choke her.

The threat of shooting didn’t feel that dangerous.

The fortified village gate was made of thick planks. Even if pierced, the bolt would lose all its force.

But if they made noise and the Jinyiwei swarmed over, it would all fall apart.

If they surrounded from both sides—hmm.

Qing stopped for now, following orders.

Truthfully, these gates were only sturdy when commoners fought among themselves. If real martial artists attacked, they wouldn’t even buy a few steps of time.

She thought for a moment. Should I pretend to be a fleeing village woman?

A sickly old mother, a naive, sick little brother, escaping together.

Sure, anyone would question a refugee coming from the burning southern hills instead of using the intact north gate.

But plans made on the spot are shallow by nature, like puddles.

Qing cleared her throat, preparing to speak—

“Oh-ho, so it’s you. The rickshaw puller with the cart.”

Someone on the other side recognized her.

A man in a thick blue coat. No women served in the army, so a man, obviously.

Qing couldn’t see clearly, but outside the coat, small iron studs the size of acorns glinted silver.

It looked like a thick coat, but every round stud held a steel plate sewn inside. A kind of armor disguised as clothing.

“Ah! Right! You’re the bastard who dared to kick me!”

The lieutenant recognized Qing’s build and immediately remembered the cart-puller.

What fancy winter clothes would a countryside bumpkin wear?

Just cheap cotton stuffed unevenly—thick in some spots, thin in others—a crude, shabby piece of clothing.

With a wound bound beneath, no belt tight enough to hold it all together, they looked like a swollen fool in cheap linen.

The lieutenant fumed but didn’t seem overtly hostile.

Qing cleared her throat and imitated a man’s voice.

“Well, apologies, truly. But calling it a kick feels unfair. I gently pushed with my foot, worried you’d get hurt.”

“A push with your foot? Another push like that and someone’s dead!”

“The fire was right behind us. Everything was chaotic, couldn’t see properly—uh, sorry, I’ve got nothing else to offer. Want a sweet potato?”

“What, are you mocking—”

“Let it be. Things happen when it’s urgent.”

The general cut both of them off, nodding.

The lieutenant immediately protested.

“General! But this bastard kicked me right in the chest! After all my loyal service, how can you overlook this insult?”

“They’ll settle it themselves. You there, your name?”

Qing hesitated briefly, then replied,

“Uh, I’m... that is... Eon Yeonyeong.”

“Eonyeonyeong?”

“Eon. Yeon. Yeong.”

“Eonyeonyeong? Is that Eon as the surname, or Yeon as the surname?”

“Eon is the surname. Yeon-yeong... No, Eonyeonyeong... no, Eonyeoyeong... Ah, shit, now I’m confused too.”

It really was a ridiculously hard name to pronounce.

“Well, name aside—interested in military service? I saw your strength. You’d fit perfectly in my army. Want to come with me?”

“I appreciate the offer—”

The general raised his hand.

Immediately—cha-cha-chak—the soldiers made deliberately loud, orderly movements, forming a semicircle, crossbows aimed. Or seemed aimed.

“Seems you misunderstood. I wasn’t asking your opinion. Who in their right mind buys conscription from the Northern Army? You’d sooner die. So, what is it? Buy your record and live—or say you’d rather die?”

Want to join the army—or die.

Want to re-enlist—or die.

A truly difficult problem.

This is why even a certain Western king muttered to live or to die, that is the question, before being drafted again.

Because living as a soldier wasn’t really living.

Live like less than human.

Or die as one.

This is the famous conscription-or-death dilemma. A wretched life or peaceful death.

To be or not to be, that is the question.

To serve or not to serve, that is the question.

Amazingly, Qing was a military veteran. A peerless beauty.

Going back to the army? She’d rather die.

No matter how people badmouthed modern armies, this place was worse—ancient, primitive, barbaric, fucked beyond measure.

But by law, women couldn’t buy conscription records.

Why? Because too many tried to fake it.

Here, military records filled household quotas.

If you didn’t want to go, and wouldn’t send your precious son,

Your surplus daughters were bargaining chips.

A daughter was raised well, married off, the groom paid the bride price.

That was the plan.

If you gave up the bride price, you disguised your daughter, sent her to fulfill military duty.

Qing thought carefully.

Women can’t serve.

So play along for now, protect Yura Dal and the old woman.

Then reveal herself later. Surprise, I’m actually a woman! and escape.

“General, I have a sick old mother and a frail brother. I was taking them to her relatives in Seonnyeong. Could I tend to them first?”

“Ah, explains the cart. So you’re not a soldier. No wonder—the strength you showed isn’t common. You’re looking after your sickly mother.”

The general nodded approvingly.

Even the displeased lieutenant softened slightly.

Sure, this fool dared kick him—but if it was out of desperation to save his mother, hard to stay angry.

“Well, you’ve a brother left. If you serve, someone remains to care for her. Seonnyeong, you said? We’ve marked that area.”

“Seonnyeong’s just west along the mountain slope.”

“Then we’ll pass through Seonnyeong, then return to Beijing. Troops, form up. We’re still within wildfire range—move quickly.”

“Uh, General?”

Qing called out.

“What?”

“There’s some suspicious people holed up in the village. I definitely heard talk of Jinyiwei.”

The general’s expression darkened.

Qing’s face brightened slightly.

Oh? They don’t get along?

“Nothing good comes of meeting them. You know the terrain. Lead us to Seonnyeong unseen. Understood?”

“I could probably manage that.”

If it’s an unseen route, just cut through the hills westward.

Technically not a lie.

“Good. You lead.”

Qing grabbed the cart, just starting to move—

“HALT!”

Even with the Jinyiwei’s sloppy discipline,

They had elites, their commander was Huajing-level.

Of course they heard the lieutenant yelling earlier.

They came out reluctantly.

The captain, in a foul mood, overheard suspicious words,

Forced them out, scolding them for lounging despite hearing danger.

But sometimes that pettiness pays off.

The Jinyiwei scouts spotted the Daesoon Commander’s northern army.

From the wide-open south gate, Jinyiwei officers appeared,

Proud, shoulders squared, standing together.

Outside the gate, northern troops had already surrounded them.

“Well, well. Isn’t that the general? I delivered His Majesty’s strict orders: confirm the rebel burned to death after the fire line ignites, then return.”

“The wind was rough, the fire spread faster than expected. Mission complete. No need to worry.”

The atmosphere tensed.

Qing’s eyes sparkled brightly. Her mouth kept crunching without stopping.

Ooooh, a fight? Are they fighting among themselves?