Chapter Twenty-Seven: The General of Plain Rice

Di Hong rode at the front, tall and imposing on his horse. He cast a triumphant glance at the corpses strewn across the ground, his expression brimming with self-satisfaction.

“General, it’s this fellow!” someone called.

“Yes, he was with that murderer earlier—he must be an accomplice! Who knows where he got those clothes, trying to disguise himself as a soldier to deceive you, General!”

Several deserters mingled among the cavalry immediately pointed their fingers at Jiang Chen as soon as they arrived.

On their way to Ziyang, these men had grown more and more uneasy, suddenly realizing why Jiang Chen’s face had seemed so familiar. Wasn’t he the one seen with the murderer?

They hurried back to inform Di Hong of the truth, then doubled back quickly, arriving just in time to witness the aftermath—the corpses of the bandits lying there.

Fortunately, Jiang Chen had urged the man who’d just helped him to escape swiftly into the dense forest, sparing him from being discovered by Di Hong and his men. But now, Jiang Chen himself faced a perilous situation.

“Anything to say for yourself?”

“If you ask me, you and these corpses are all enemy spies who slipped in among the refugees. There was some internal strife just now, and you tore each other apart, leaving bodies everywhere. Am I wrong?”

Jiang Chen thought to himself: This fool does nothing but spout nonsense. The court ought to grant him the title of ‘General of Empty Bellies’ someday.

He noticed that the refugees, frightened by the recent skirmish, had scattered in all directions. Now, even if fighting broke out, they would not be caught in the crossfire, which left Jiang Chen free to spar with these officers and soldiers without concern.

“General Di, is it?” Jiang Chen asked. “Since you’re so worried about spies infiltrating Ziyang, perhaps you should ask these deserters which general they serve under and why they’ve come all the way here?”

He identified the six deserters one by one, then continued: “If I were a spy, then by origin and identity, wouldn’t these men appear far more suspicious than I?”

“Nonsense! You’re just trying to sow discord as you’re about to die—hoping to drag us down with you! I’ll send you to the underworld myself!” one deserter roared, raising his blade to strike Jiang Chen, but Di Hong’s shout stopped him.

“Hold it! Who’s in charge here? Is it your place to deal with him as you please?”

“Yes, General! But his words can’t be trusted. Please, General, see through his lies!”

Jiang Chen, however, stood tall, his bearing upright and unyielding. With hands clasped in salute, he addressed Di Hong: “General, it’s a small matter if you wrong only me, but if enemy spies have truly infiltrated, then Ziyang itself is in danger.”

“This isn’t mere alarmism—there are already rumors that enemy agents have blended in among the refugees heading south, gathering intelligence about our terrain, fortifications, and troop deployments.”

“I believe it’s best to clarify all this. I, Jiang Chen, have nothing to hide. I am indeed from the town of Neishan Pass, a hundred miles west of here. If you doubt me, send someone to investigate.”

“But I would like to ask about these six men in frontier army uniforms. Why are they here in the southern borderlands, so far from their post?”

Jiang Chen’s words were forceful and well-reasoned, making Di Hong uneasy.

Jiang Chen had already discerned that Di Hong was a naturally suspicious and timid man. All it took was a little persuasion to shake his resolve.

Now, as Di Hong glanced at the six men, uncertainty clouded his expression—precisely the reaction Jiang Chen had hoped for.

“General, this man is sowing discord. We should kill him now! Did you forget? He lied about bandits just now, clearly for some ulterior motive!” one of the deserters urged.

But this time, Di Hong was not so confused—he could tell a bandit from anyone else.

Looking around, he saw the copper bells hanging from the horses, a mark unique to the bandits. This proved the corpses on the ground were indeed their bodies.

After steadying himself, Di Hong asked, “Were these men killed by you?”

“I lack such skill,” Jiang Chen replied. “They quarreled among themselves and perished together.”

Though the explanation was a stretch, Di Hong noted Jiang Chen’s scholarly air and pale, thin appearance—he hardly looked like someone versed in martial skills.

Thus, Di Hong was inclined to believe Jiang Chen, and his doubts about the six deserters only deepened.

“Well, I think you’re an honest, impoverished scholar—not someone who’d betray the nation for personal gain. You simply don’t have the nerve!” Di Hong announced, then laughed heartily and turned his gaze to the six deserters.

“So, tell me—under whose command do you serve? You wear frontier army uniforms, yet you’re here in the southern borderlands. How do you explain that?”

“If you don’t give me a straight answer, I’ll have you executed as spies!”

His stern rebuke made the six men break out in a cold sweat—they dared not conceal anything.

They explained that they had served under General Wang, but after their forces were defeated and scattered, they lost their way and ended up here by mistake. Di Hong’s face turned grim.

“So, you’re deserters!”

“Spare us, General! At the time, the enemy had already routed our troops and everyone fled for their lives. Though we are loyal, there was nothing we could do!”

“Yes, yes, we really were scattered—there was no way to rejoin the ranks!”

They each offered excuses, but Di Hong, a weak and timid man, would take no risks. Since their intentions were unclear and they could provide no solid proof, he would never keep them around.

At that moment, Jiang Chen decided to deal the final blow.

He said, “Even if what they say is partly true, there’s something that doesn’t add up. If they were truly loyal and only ended up here because their army was routed, then with so many towns and passes along the way, why didn’t they join the local garrisons to seek revenge? Why follow the refugees south, hiding here?”

Murder flashed in Di Hong’s eyes. The point was clear: even if they had served under General Wang, they were deserters all the same.

In Da Qian, there was only one fate for deserters: death.

“Men, seize these six cowards who fled from battle and execute them on the spot! It’s because of scum like this that Da Qian faces such dire straits.”

Realizing their doom, the six men tried to escape, but how could their legs outrun horses? They didn’t get far before they fell to the blades.