Chapter 423: Emperor Wu Su Returns to Camp? Heaven Blesses Beili

Her knees slammed hard onto the gravelly ground, and a searing pain instantly spread through them.

Ji Qingwu pushed herself up. Her palms were scraped raw by the coarse grit, bleeding, but she didn’t even have time to cry out in pain.

Because the sound of hooves was growing closer.

Without even stopping to smooth her skirt, she staggered in a run to the wooden fence at the entrance of the military camp.

’Could Emperor Wu Su be back at camp?’ Ji Qingwu’s heart pounded.

The horn from the watchtower suddenly blared.

A rider reined his horse to a halt at the main gate. His silver armor was caked in yellow sand. As he dismounted, the gilded scabbard at his waist clinked sharply against his saddle.

Through the fence, Ji Qingwu saw clearly who had returned.

She took a disappointed step back, fumbling to pull the scarf from her neck up over her head.

It was Wei Ting, along with several of his trusted aides.

The guards cupped their fists in a salute. "General!"

Li Chengxun had also rushed to the gate. "General Wei," he said.

Wei Ting nodded, having no time for pleasantries, and questioned the soldiers on guard.

"When did the main army depart?"

A guard replied, "Reporting to the General, last night the sandstorm was blinding, and the sentries’ vision was obstructed. At midnight, Xijin launched a surprise attack, massing all their forces to press the border. His Majesty has already led the troops out to battle."

Hearing this, Wei Ting’s expression turned grim. ’Neither the timing nor the terrain is on Beili’s side.’

Xijin had more troops, and their soldiers were more accustomed to launching assaults in raging sandstorms. They could also use the dunes and gullies for cover, giving them a much greater chance of victory.

Ji Qingwu hid behind the fence, biting her lip hard.

’I really am a step too late. Once this war starts, there’s no telling when it will end, or when Emperor Wu Su might return...’

At that moment, another sharp whistle pierced the air.

Ji Qingwu recognized the signal. Her eyes flew wide with panic. She turned and ran, biting her lower lip so hard it bled.

’These Xijin wolves! They don’t give you a moment’s rest!’

Wei Ting froze, then vaulted back onto his horse and galloped toward the area where the provisions and fodder were stored.

Li Chengxun, unfamiliar with the army’s signals, asked suspiciously, "May I ask what’s happened?"

The guard’s expression was stiff. "...There’s a fire."

Ji Qingwu ran in the direction of the mess hall from memory, temporarily forgetting the pain in her knees.

In the mess hall, over a hundred large water vats were all filled to the brim.

’Thank goodness the Northern Border army is so disciplined.’ Their practices had never changed; they always increased their water storage to cope with the dry autumn and winter months.

But just then, an even more urgent whistle sounded.

Ji Qingwu’s heart clenched. She looked to the east.

Several flaming arrows flew into the camp in a volley. The air was dry and the ground arid; the arrows ignited whatever they touched, and the fire spread rapidly.

The north wind howled as thick smoke billowed.

Ji Qingwu frowned. ’Even with all this water, it probably won’t be enough to stop a fire fanned by such strong winds.’

’Even the heavens aren’t on Beili’s side.’

The soldiers guarding the entrances of the various tents all rushed to fight the fire.

Li Chengxun rushed over as well, grabbing a fleeing soldier. "Aren’t the Northern Border’s granaries built from bluestone? Why are they on fire?"

"Sir, bluestone can’t stop fire oil!"

The soldier wrenched his hand free, and water sloshing from his bucket splashed at Li Chengxun’s feet.

"The Xijin people aren’t just shooting flaming arrows! They’re using falcons to drop fire starters!"

The Xijin people had come prepared, having specially trained eagles and peregrine falcons for this very purpose.

Li Chengxun stared eastward. Ten granaries were engulfed in a sea of flames. The bluestone cracked and popped in the intense heat, and it was hard to say how much longer it would hold.

Seeing the tongues of fire already licking at the outermost granary, Ji Qingwu ducked into a random military tent.

She called out anxiously, "Peanuts!"

The electric hum of the smart-brain powering on sounded.

[Present, Host.]

Ji Qingwu spoke rapidly, "Quick, release the national fortune you owe me from last time! Otherwise, I’ll take you down with me!"

The system also knew the situation was urgent and didn’t waste time with pointless chatter.

[Understood, Host. Where would you like to use it? On the battlefield, or in the military camp?]

Ji Qingwu hesitated for a moment.

’The battlefield is unforgiving, and Xijin is known for its dirty tricks. The situation the main army faces is even more perilous than ours here.’

’If I release the national fortune on the battlefield, it could protect Emperor Wu Su from harm.’

’But provisions are essential for the army. They’re a necessity for the soldiers.’

Ji Qingwu closed her eyes, and the image of Zhao Mingyan’s pale face after being hit by an arrow surfaced in her mind.

The bite mark on her lower lip deepened, and the taste of rust filled her mouth. She opened her eyes again, her expression firm as she parted her lips to speak.

Not long after.

Ji Qingwu pushed aside the door flap and stepped out, catching the attention of a soldier carrying water to fight the fire.

The man’s face was covered in soot, leaving only the whites of his eyes and his teeth visible. He asked suspiciously, "Who are you? Why are you coming out of the General’s tent?"

In her haste, Ji Qingwu hadn’t had time to see whose tent it was. Now she looked up and saw a large character for "Wei" on the roof.

Seeing the woman’s face mostly hidden by her scarf, the soldier flew into a rage. "Aha! You’re a Xijin spy!"

Ji Qingwu frowned. "Putting out the fire is more important. Don’t waste time."

The soldier didn’t trust her. After a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and ran with his bucket toward the provisions area to the east, not forgetting to shout a warning over his shoulder.

"You stay right there! I’ll be back to deal with you!"

Li Chengxun appeared at her side, his tone unfriendly. "This is a critical moment. You were sent by Qingyun, so don’t run around. If something happens to you, I can’t protect you."

Ji Qingwu, still wearing Chunhua’s face, remained silent. Instead, she lifted her head and gazed at the sky.

The early morning sun wasn’t yet harsh. It was bright and full of life, seeming to promise a fine, clear day.

But in an instant, several large dark clouds drifted over, obscuring the sun and plunging the world into shadow. The sky began to rumble.

Ji Qingwu let out a sigh of relief. A hint of moisture welled in her eyes, but she blinked it back.

’What I need to do now is protect the home front here at the camp.’

Ji Qingwu ran toward the east.

Li Chengxun frowned and was about to call out to her, but the sky suddenly turned dark and heavy. A cloud as black as ink appeared overhead. In the moment he was stunned, staring up, the maidservant vanished.

A startling bolt of lightning tore through the billowing smoke.

Raindrops the size of beans hammered down on the red-hot roofs of the granaries, sending up clouds of white steam.

The Northern Border was arid, and rain was rare at this time of year. The soldiers fighting the fire were drenched by the downpour, their minds going blank. Everyone stood frozen in shock.

"A timely rain from the heavens! Heaven blesses Beili!"

It’s unknown who shouted it first, but the soldiers began to drop to their knees, giving thanks for this auspicious sign from the heavens.

Not far off, Wei Ting’s roar could be heard.

"What are you kneeling for? Now is not the time! Better to rely on ourselves than pray for miracles! Keep forming human chains and pass the water!"

The soldiers snapped back to their senses and scrambled to fight the blaze. Wei Ting directed them to use long spears to pry apart the burning beams.

Braving the heavy rain, Ji Qingwu also helped carry several buckets of water.

With the downpour and the buckets of water washing away the flames, the fire gradually subsided.

Ji Qingwu bent over, hands on her thighs, panting for breath. A fine sweat beaded on her forehead. The wounds on her palms and knees were soaked with rainwater; she no longer felt the pain, only a hot, throbbing sensation.