Ya She

Chapter 42 Money Without a Back

Kaifeng, Bianjing (Kaifeng) in 1066 AD

Before the sun had fully risen and the eastern sky was only tinged with a faint red glow, the loud crowing of roosters pierced through the morning mist and echoed over Bianjing. The morning bells of the various temples also rang one after another, and in the blink of an eye, the quiet streets became noisy as people gradually appeared as they rose from their slumber.

Hou Fangjie rubbed his eyes, leaned against the palace wall to say goodbye to his colleagues who were filing out. He was waiting for his good friend Di Yong, who was also on night duty, to come out. They were on duty in different places. He was just one of the many guards at Qian Yuan Gate, while Di Yong was on duty at Chui Gong Hall, where the emperor held court, and his future was very promising.

This is not surprising, as Di Yong had a powerful father, Di Qing, also known as Di Hanchen, the Martial Star of the Song Dynasty. Although Di Qing had passed away many years ago, he had served as the Deputy Privy Councilor, a position unprecedented in the reach of a military general in the Song Dynasty. As is well known, the Song Dynasty valued civil officials over military ones, and it was ultimately due to the combined efforts of the entire civil service that Di Qing died in despair.

Hou Fangjie sighed inwardly. Every man has a heroic dream of fighting on the battlefield and making great achievements. Di Qing was his role model when he was young. It's just that the famous general couldn't withstand the suspicion of the world before he even turned old. It's really a pity.

Just as she was lost in thought, the palace gates creaked open again, and an incomparably handsome young man stepped out. The first ray of sunlight shone on him, creating a faint golden halo around him that made everyone hold their breath in awe.

They're really leaving no way for anyone else to survive.

Hou Fangjie gritted his teeth in envy and jealousy.

Di Qing was the most handsome man in the Song Dynasty, famous throughout the world. However, he was called the "Nattooed-Face General" because he took the blame for his elder brother when he was young and had tattoos on his face. Whenever he charged into battle, Di Qing would wear a ghost mask like the Prince of Lanling from more than four hundred years ago. This was not to cover up the tattoos on his face, but because he was so handsome.

Speaking of which, Di Qing was only the second handsome man in history to have to wear a mask to go to the battlefield, which shows how dashing this masked general was back then. Even when Wu Xianggong rose to the position of Deputy Privy Councilor, he did not use medicine to remove the tattoos on his face, and he remained unmoved even when the emperor personally tried to persuade him. This was a great regret for everyone from the emperor to the common people.

Therefore, Hou Fangjie fully understood why Di Yong was assigned to serve in the Chuigong Hall in front of the emperor, after all, he was a living reincarnation of Di Hanchen.

At this moment, Di Yong walked slowly in the crisp spring breeze. His eyebrows were like distant mountains, and his eyes like cold stars; even the most discerning person could not find any flaws in his features. He wore armor identical to the other guards, with a silk outer layer and a dark blue linen lining. The armor was painted with blue-green patterns resembling nail leaves, trimmed with red brocade, and bound with red leather belts. He also wore leggings and a ringed sword at his waist. This tight-fitting, narrow-sleeved outfit, more ceremonial than practical, somehow gave him an imposing and intimidating aura. It made him appear even more...
He was tall, handsome, and brave.

Hou Fangjie cursed himself countless times for being friends with this kid. The pressure of walking with such a handsome man was just too much! This was probably why Di Yong had been isolated since childhood; it was something that most people with weak wills simply couldn't bear.

However, Hou Fangjie, who was naturally carefree, only muttered a few complaints in his heart as usual before letting go of his resentment and yawning, "Si Tao, what should we eat this morning? The red bean dumplings in Xiaorenfang? The bean cakes on Guanqiao Street? The four-color dumplings in Taipingfang? The blood sausage soup at the entrance of Miaoxiang? Or the pig pancreas flatbread at Zhong'an Bridge..."

In fact, the imperial guards were provided with meals after taking up their posts in the palace, but as sons of officials, they naturally didn't want to eat the same old food. Bianjing and Kaifeng were incredibly prosperous; as long as you had money in your pocket, eating whatever you wanted was no problem at all. Hou Fangjie rattled off a long list of snacks without stopping, and for a moment, all the drowsiness vanished, and saliva practically overflowed.

Seeing his friend's drooling expression, Di Yong's cold, hard lips curled slightly, and he sighed softly, "Let's go to Qingfeng Tower. It's my treat today. It's been hard on you, adjusting the value with me."

Qingfenglou is a very famous restaurant in Bianjing. It's not only open at night, but also offers a wide variety of snacks from all over Bianjing during breakfast. Hou Fangjie patted his empty stomach and chuckled, "Tch, let's not be so formal. We're brothers, how could I watch you suffer like that every day?" Although his words were serious, there was a hint of teasing in them.

Even the usually aloof Di Yong couldn't help but let out a sigh of frustration when this matter was brought up.

In fact, he used to be on duty at the Chuigong Hall during the day, appearing before the emperor almost every day and even listening to the court officials discuss politics outside the hall—a position that seemed like a sure path to advancement. But he couldn't stand the crowds that would gather on the street every time he went home after his shift. The frenzied scenes escalated, and in the end, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and apply for a shift change, which finally brought him some peace and quiet.

"Pfft! Who told Princess Bao'an to specifically want someone like you to be her consort? The Emperor even called you 'the man of honor.' Who wouldn't want to see this famous 'man of honor,' personally bestowed by the Emperor?" Hou Fangjie gloated.

Di Yong didn't bother with this kid who liked to mock him, because he knew that even if he didn't respond, Hou Fangjie could still have a great time talking on his own.

Hou Fangjie knew Di Yong's personality and didn't expect any reaction from him at all. He put his hand on Di Yong's shoulder and chuckled, "How does it feel to be favored by the princess?"

Di Yong remained expressionless, because he knew it was simply impossible.
Princess Bao'an was the eldest daughter of Empress Gao, and was extremely noble. How could she possibly marry someone like him, who was only a fifth-rank official in the Eastern Upper Gate? So from the beginning, he never dared to dream that the emperor would personally summon him a while ago and imply that he intended to bestow him with a princess and make him a prince consort.

This was already an unparalleled honor, and he had no objections. However, marriage was not what he desired; he would rather follow in his father's footsteps and join the army, fighting valiantly on the frontier.

As Hou Fangjie and Di Yong walked towards Xijiaolou Street in the west of the city, Hou Fangjie recalled the grand scene when Di Yong went out and couldn't help but chuckle and tease him: "You should be glad that those girls threw hairpins at you instead of fruits, otherwise it would have been another human tragedy of Wei Jie being stared at to death sooner or later."

Di Yong's handsome face darkened slightly as he pondered whether he should also get a bronze mask like his father, but that would be far too extravagant in Bianjing City and would only give people something to talk about.

Hou Fangjie leaned closer, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously, "Did you know? Rumor has it that the handsome Di never wears flowers in his hair; he's waiting for the one his sweetheart will give him."

Men in this dynasty favored wearing flowers in their hair, a custom prevalent among the upper classes. During major festivals, the emperor would bestow flowers upon his ministers, with the specific flowers varying according to rank. Furthermore, there were strict requirements regarding how to match flowers with different occasions, seasons, and outfits. For example, there were dozens of colors and varieties of silk flowers alone; it was forbidden to wear gold-embroidered flowers when meeting foreign envoys; and sometimes even the number of petals was subject to various rules.

Di Yong had always despised this overly effeminate custom and would never wear flowers in his hair, no matter the occasion. Some of his colleagues disapproved and privately mocked his father for his poor background, saying he was crudely raised and lacked manners.

However, Di Yong also knew that he was too outstanding. He never cared about these rumors. Besides, his father did indeed come from a bad background, had been punished and had his name tattooed, and was not a descendant of Duke Liang, Di Renjie. What was there to hide from others? So he took Hou Fangjie's words as a joke, and his tense handsome face relaxed a little, showing a gentleness rarely seen in others.

Hou Fangjie, indulging in his gossip, walked side by side through the Right Gate to the southwest of Xijiaolou Street. Following the relatively wide Yonglu Street, they passed the Kaifeng Prefecture, the Palace Guard, and the Ministry of Personnel. Scattered before these solemn government offices were already appearing in front of them, and those they recognized greeted them with a few pleasantries. Di Yong, not being particularly talkative and not having a wide circle of friends, mostly did the talking and laughing, with Hou Fangjie doing most of the work. They walked to the end of Longjin Bridge and saw an elegant and magnificent high-rise building.

Qingfeng Tower was quite famous in Bianjing, and being located near many government offices, it was a popular spot for officials to rest and chat. Upon entering through the large, painted gate, a poem by Sima Guang, titled "Responding to Sun Qi at Qingfeng Tower," hung on the wall of the main hall to the right. Although it was early morning, Qingfeng Tower was already bustling with activity. Hou Fangjie knew that Di Yong disliked being watched, and that sitting in the main hall would likely draw attention, so he opted for a private room on the third floor.

Hou Fangjie casually ordered a few breakfast items he wanted, but before they were served, the waiter came in again and told him that someone wanted to bother them. Hou Fangjie figured it might be an acquaintance who saw them come up and wanted to share a table. Seeing that Di Yong didn't seem to care, he nodded.

A short while later, a man knocked and entered. He was dressed in a wide-sleeved, tight-fitting, black robe reminiscent of the Qin and Han dynasties. The robe accentuated his handsome features, and his long hair, loosely tied behind his ears, made him look like a refined figure straight out of an ancient painting. Even if he wasn't as handsome as Di Yong, such a person would be unforgettable. Hou Fangjie immediately recognized the man and rose to greet him.

"Hey! What a coincidence to run into you today!" Hou Fangjie, in a friendly manner, pulled the other person to the table and sat them down. Then he introduced him to Di Yong, saying, "This is the owner of an antique shop in Caihewan. I used to buy things from his shop."

Di Yong nodded, which was his way of greeting him. He was born with a cold personality, mainly because if he were too friendly, it would only make things worse for those around him, so he preferred to be aloof.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with Hou Fangjie, the shop owner turned to Di Yong and said slowly, "I am about to leave Bianjing. The shop recently received an item, and I thought that even if I cannot return it to its rightful owner, I should return it to the person who should inherit it."

"Huh? The Silent Shop is closing down?" Hou Fangjie was taken aback, and immediately felt a pang of sadness. He realized the shop had been open for several years, but the owner always seemed to be so young…

"Ah, it's time to go back to my hometown." The shopkeeper smiled faintly, without explaining further, and took out a silk handkerchief from his pocket, placed it on the table, and slowly unfolded it.

On the handkerchief, a copper coin lay quietly.

The moment Di Yong saw it, his pupils contracted slightly, and his thin lips pressed into a straight line.

"This is..." Hou Fangjie examined it for a moment in surprise, then stroked his chin and hesitated, "Could this be the legendary Imperial Song Nine-Fold Seal Script?"

The Huangsong Nine-Fold Seal Script is the most precious type of copper coin among the Huangsong Tongbao coins issued during the reign of Emperor Renzong of Song (Huangyou era). Although it was only issued a little over a decade ago, its rarity has made it virtually impossible to find on the market. The so-called Nine-Fold Seal Script is based on the Small Seal Script, with strokes repeatedly folded and twisted. The number of folds in each character depends on the complexity of the strokes. It's called "Nine-Fold" not because it only folds nine times, but because nine is the final number, describing the sheer number of folded strokes.

Hou Fangjie rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "Shopkeeper, why did you go to all this trouble to bring this Imperial Song Nine-Fold Seal script over? Although this Nine-Fold Seal script is very valuable, my brother isn't short of money!"

He glanced at Di Yong, his implication being that he wanted to steal her away and keep her for himself. After all, he wasn't going to take her for free; he'd definitely have to pay for it.

The young shopkeeper narrowed his eyes slightly, and his entire face immediately became vivid and eerie. He said nothing, but simply reached out and turned the Imperial Song Nine-Fold Seal script over.

Hou Fangjie gasped, pointing at the Imperial Song Nine-Fold Seal Coin and gritting his teeth, "A fake! This is absolutely a fake! What kind of copper coin has characters on both sides and is always obverse? This is clearly a fake!"

The shopkeeper smiled mysteriously: "Are you sure? Are you sure there has never been a coin without a reverse side?"

"I do..." Hou Fangjie's voice caught in his throat because he suddenly remembered that it really happened, and he remembered it very clearly, almost by heart.

During the reign of Emperor Huangyou, General Di Qing, also known as Di Hanchen, led his army to quell a rebellion in Guangdong and Guangxi. Due to the unfavorable situation, he made a vow before the Buddha in front of a temple, tossing one hundred coins to the ground. If all the coins landed face up and tails down, he would surely ensure a great victory for his army. After he walked out of the temple, he waved his hand in front of everyone, and the hundred coins fell to the ground with a thud. In fact, all the coins landed face up, causing an uproar among the crowd.

Di Qing ordered his men to bring one hundred iron nails and nail one hundred copper coins firmly to the ground. He announced that upon their triumphant return, they would use the money to thank the gods, rebuild the temple, and recast the golden statue. The entire army's morale soared, and they decisively defeated the rebels. After their victory, everyone looked at the one hundred copper coins and discovered they were all double-sided coins, with only one side facing up.

This story has been circulating for a long time, and everyone admires Wu Xiang Gong's ingenuity and planning. Hou Fangtai had temporarily forgotten this story, but when he recalled that the shopkeeper had said he would return the coin to its heir, his eyes immediately lit up.

"This is the legendary 'no-back coin'? How come there's only one left? Wasn't it said there were a hundred?"

"These copper coins can not only tell fortunes, but also buy lives." The young shopkeeper's voice was deep and elegant, sending shivers down one's spine.

"I understand fortune telling. Many people just toss coins for divination, and Duke Wu Xiang also used this method. But... buying one's life?" Hou Fangjie asked doubtfully, as he had never heard of this before.

"Haven't you ever received New Year's money? 'Year' and 'evil spirit' are homophones, so it's said that New Year's money can ward off evil spirits. Younger generations who receive New Year's money from their elders can spend the year peacefully. It's believed that giving New Year's money to children allows you to bribe evil spirits when they try to harm them." The young shopkeeper's lips curled into a meaningful smile. "That's what's called buying life."

“Uh… when I was a kid, I would spend all my New Year’s money as soon as I received it every year… I really have to thank Buddha for allowing me to grow up safely…” Hou Fangjie was horrified to hear this; he had never known that New Year’s money could have such a use.

"These un-backed coins were specially made by Duke Wu Xiang. It is said that he later distributed those one hundred un-backed coins to his officials and subordinates, who believed they could ward off disasters and save lives."

The shop owner slowly stood up and said calmly to Di Yong, who had remained silent throughout, "I acquired this unmarked coin by chance and am returning it to you, Young Master Di. It's best to keep this unmarked coin close to your body." After saying this, he ignored Hou Fangjie's eager attempts to persuade him to stay and leisurely pushed open the door to leave.

Knowing they had something to talk about, the waiters at Qingfenglou didn't serve breakfast except for the initial pot of tea. Only after they left did they enter the private room and quickly set out all the food they had ordered.

Hou Fangjie didn't pay much attention to Di Yong's expressionless face. After the shop assistants left, he wrapped the unmarked coin in a brocade handkerchief and stuffed it into Di Yong's hand, muttering to himself, "Since they said to wear it close to your body, find a rope to thread it and hang it around your neck later."

Di Yong took the handkerchief, smiled self-deprecatingly, and said calmly, "I am on duty in the palace every day, how could my life be in danger?"

Although serving a ruler is like walking on thin ice, the Song Dynasty has never wrongfully killed innocent people. Not only were civil officials spared from beheading, but military officers, though easily suspected, were still treated with respect. Even ordinary people were rarely unjustly accused. The emperor was humble and courteous, and Di Yong really didn't know if he would ever need to use this unmarked coin.

Although he understood clearly, his words still carried a hint of frustration and unfulfilled ambition. Hou Fangjie, of course, could not help but notice, and could only offer kind words of advice. In truth, Di Qing and Di Hanchen, like the Prince of Lanling, were both so handsome that they had to wear masks on the battlefield, and in the end, they both fell victim to the emperor's suspicion. History always repeats itself in a frustratingly coincidental way.

As Hou Fangjie's thoughts wandered aimlessly, he racked his brains for words of comfort. Di Yong gestured for him to be quiet. Just as Hou Fangjie was wondering what was going on, he heard voices coming from the next private room.

The soundproofing in Qingfeng Tower wasn't very good, but no one would discuss any confidential matters there. The two people in the next private room weren't talking loudly either, but Di Hou and his companion, who were skilled in martial arts and had sharp ears and eyes, could hear everything clearly.

Di Yong initially paid no attention to what the two people in front of him had said, but they both mentioned the strong Tang and weak Song dynasties.

This argument is widely circulated, and given the freedom of speech in the Song Dynasty, some people have always seized upon this point. However, after Emperor Taizu's "releasing military power over a cup of wine," the status of military generals plummeted, which was the main reason why Di Yong's father, Di Qing, was subjected to such severe suppression and died in despair.

Many people believe that the Song Dynasty today cannot compare to the military might of the Tang Dynasty. Today, the antique shop owner returned the unmarked coin his father had made, and Di Yong felt a rare, inexplicable sense of frustration, wanting to hear others' opinions.

One of the voices slammed its fist on the table indignantly, saying, "The Song Dynasty has been weak for too long. It can't win wars, and even if it does, it has to pay reparations. It's a humiliating chapter in our history! Lu Zi, why did you set the compass to this era again? It's infuriating to look at!"

Di Yong's hand, gripping the teacup, bulged with veins. Although the words weren't spoken to his face, it felt like a slap, his cheek stinging.

At this moment, another calm and composed voice came from next door, saying lightly, "War? It mainly depends on why we're fighting. Those foreign tribes are fighting desperately just to get porcelain, silk, and tea from the Central Plains. Opening up trade markets can solve this problem. No one dies, and we can still exchange porcelain, silk, and tea, so who would still fight? It's like when a merchant opens a shop and thugs come to collect protection money. Do you pay them, or do you wait until the thugs smash your shop to pieces before paying them? You can't kill all those thugs, so as long as you don't want a fight to the death, you know how to make the choice."

Di Yong was taken aback upon hearing this, as he had never considered it from this perspective before. However, considering the bigger picture, it was indeed the case.

During the reign of Emperor Wu of Han, the national treasury was abundant due to the reigns of Emperors Wen and Jing. The military expenses for the large-scale campaign against the Xiongnu were a huge expenditure. Years of war and taxation would cause the people to suffer from financial hardship and poverty. Even Emperor Wu of Han had many regrets in his later years.

Moreover, nomadic tribes are indeed difficult to eradicate completely. As this person said, the merchants simply don't have the absolute power to make these petty thugs disappear. And what's even more frightening is that even if this group of thugs is dealt with, another group will emerge.

The steady voice continued, "Actually, the most important issue for every dynasty is the economy. Generally speaking, as long as the people can eat and drink their fill, there won't be constant unrest. For example, Qin Shi Huang built the Great Wall. I guess he did the math and found that the cost of building the Great Wall was cheaper than the military expenses for maintaining the army, and it also eliminated the hidden danger of his subordinates becoming too powerful. Why not do it? But the Song Dynasty rulers and ministers discovered an even cheaper way: they didn't need to build the Great Wall; paying protection money was enough."

"During the reign of Emperor Zhenzong, the Treaty of Chanyuan stipulated that the Song Dynasty would pay the Khitan 300,000 strings of cash annually. That sounds like a lot, but do you know how much the Song Dynasty's treasury revenue was? At that time, the Song Dynasty's annual revenue easily exceeded 100 million strings of cash. 300,000 strings of cash was only equivalent to 0.3% of the annual fiscal revenue. It was really just a little bit of change that was used to appease a beggar. Who wouldn't spend money to buy peace of mind? We're not short of money!"

"Moreover, the Song Dynasty was only willing to pay indemnities in silver and silk, never in copper coins, and even restricted the circulation of copper coins. Because the Song Dynasty lacked copper, the face value of copper coins couldn't even keep up with the value of the raw copper, leading to the excessive issuance of silver notes and causing inflation. In fact, the Song Dynasty was later dragged down by an economic crisis. So economics is really important..."

Di Yong listened intently. Even he, who attended court daily in the Chui Gong Hall, found these pronouncements novel, not to mention the unfamiliar vocabulary he encountered. But… to drag it down? The Song Dynasty was currently enjoying a prosperous and beautiful land; what was this man spouting nonsense about?
Di Yong frowned, straightening up. Although he felt the other man's words made a lot of sense, he also felt a sense of detachment, as if the man was talking without understanding the situation. He couldn't quite grasp this feeling, but he hoped to make this gentleman his friend. Perhaps they could discuss things like how he knew confidential data such as the specifics of fiscal revenue. For example, what inflation was, what an economic crisis was, and what it meant for the Song Dynasty to be dragged down…

Hou Fangjie had also been listening to that man's insightful remarks, finding them fascinating. Seeing Di Yong stride away with a dark, sullen face, he quickly followed. His brother seemed to be seeking revenge; he didn't want a fight to break out over a disagreement.

Hou Fangjie's worries were obviously unnecessary. After Di Yong had the waiter knock on the door and go in, he heard the waiter let out a wail.

On the square table in the private room were several plates of breakfast that had been mostly eaten, and the remaining half bowl of soy milk was still steaming, but there was not a single person in sight.

Di Yong frowned. This was the private room next to theirs. He hadn't heard any footsteps when he walked over. What was going on? The windows of the private room were all closed properly. If they had jumped from the third floor, there would definitely have been people shouting and yelling on the street below.

Just then, he heard the waiter's pitiful pleading voice: "Young Master Hou, do you know these two people? They haven't paid yet!"

The breakfast didn't cost much, and Hou Fangjie was somewhat acquainted with the waiter, so he had no choice but to swallow his pride and obediently reach into his pocket, muttering as he pulled out his purse, "Young master doesn't have friends who dine and dash. Oh well, for what I said earlier, this little bit of money is nothing. I'll treat this as giving money to a beggar! I'm not short of cash!"

In the capital, the sons of official families, unless they were lazy and unambitious playboys, had only two paths to choose from: civil or military. Those without learning would try to buy their way into office through connections, while those with genuine talent would enter the Imperial Academy, take the imperial examinations, and eventually join the Hanlin Academy. Those choosing the military path would typically become palace guards, gain experience in the army, and eventually be granted an official position. Di Yong, benefiting from the influence of his father, Duke Wu Xiang, already had a place in the emperor's court. After serving as a guard for several years, he could have been transferred to the Imperial Guard for further training, easily earning a prestigious title before marrying a princess.

However, Di Yong requested to go to the front lines in the Northwest. Since he dared to request it, the emperor had no reason not to grant it. Moreover, although the Duke of Wuxiang, Di Qing, died somewhat ignominiously, he was still an object of the emperor's admiration in his youth, and the emperor had already decreed that the Duke of Wuxiang's tomb be moved and buried with the emperor in Yonghou Mausoleum after his death. Such great favor naturally extended to his son, Di Yong.

So, amidst the incomprehension of everyone in Bianjing, Di Yong smoothly arrived in Huanzhou City.

Huanqing Road governs Qingzhou, Huanzhou, Binzhou, Ningzhou, and Qianzhou, with Qingzhou as its center. Huanzhou is located northwest of Qingzhou, making it the front line directly facing the Western Xia. Huanqing Road had previously been meticulously planned by Zhong Shiheng, Fan Zhongyan, and others, with over a dozen fortresses and mountain strongholds supporting each other, appearing impregnable. However, Di Yong's careful investigation revealed increasing alarm within him.

The Treaty of Chanyuan had kept the Song and Liao dynasties at peace for over a century, but the Liao, a notorious rogue state, was so easily appeased that the rising Western Xia naturally refused to be outdone. Before Fan Zhongyan, the Grand Secretary, was appointed Deputy Military Commissioner of Shaanxi, the Song army and the Western Xia army had fought several battles at Sanchuankou and Haoshuichuan, with the Song army suffering heavy losses and being routed by the Western Xia. Although things were much better now than before, after Fan Zhongyan's departure, no one could save the disorganized Song army.

Yes, who wants to go to war? At worst, we'll just pay some compensation!

Di Yong stood on the city wall of Qingping Pass, watching the yellow sand swirling in the sky, almost obscuring the sun, but unable to bury the mighty Western Xia soldiers outside the city with their tribal flags waving.

At this moment, Di Yong suddenly recalled the remarks he had overheard at Qingfeng Tower years ago, and felt an overwhelming sense of irony.

Yes, that's right. It's possible to give a beggar a little spare change by letting it slip through your fingers, but if this goes on for too long, the beggar will become slick and emboldened, and then he'll want even more money.
Di Yong closed his eyes briefly, his hand gripping the city wall firmly and resolutely.

To this day, he does not regret his choice.

He is currently stationed at Qingping Pass, a fortified stronghold of Huanzhou City, which stretches 25 li east to Guitongyan, 40 li west to Anbian City, 30 li south to Xingping City, and 27 li north to Xiandaokou. However, at this time, the Western Xia general Renduohan led 30,000 troops to attack this place, while Qingping Pass was defended by only 3,000 men.

Just fifteen minutes ago, he led his soldiers to repel the enemy's first wave of attacks, but Di Yong knew that was merely a test. Next time, the enemy would bare its sharp fangs and would not retreat so easily again.

Hou Fangjie hurriedly walked up, sword in hand, and grabbed Di Yong's arm, pulling him back. He muttered with extreme worry, "Si Tao, this city wall isn't high at all. If you stand here, a stray arrow could kill you right here." Calling this a city wall was an exaggeration; in Hou Fangjie's opinion, it was just a small mound of earth, even Qingfeng Tower was higher than this.

Thinking about this, Hou Fangjie felt a surge of anger. He didn't know how backward this place was until he arrived at the frontier. He had regretted his impulsive decision to follow Di Yong, but as an insignificant illegitimate son in the family, there was really no faster way to make a name for himself than on the battlefield.

Everything involves risk; if you want greater returns, you must be prepared to lose everything.

So Hou Fangjie took it all in stride. Killing a few more Western Xia people to accompany him in death meant his life hadn't been in vain. He glanced at the expressionless Di Yong beside him and inwardly sighed in regret. This handsome young man, renowned throughout the Song Dynasty, stood ramrod straight like a spear. Because of the previous slaughter, his entire body was shrouded in a chilling aura. Half of his armor was stained crimson with the enemy's blood, and even his handsome face was stained with a few drops of blood. A single drop of blood had even splashed at the corner of his eye, adding to his indescribable, eerie killing intent.

If those girls who threw their hairpins into the water knew that the handsome young man Di would perish here, the entire city of Bianjing would probably be flooded with tears.
Hou Fangjie was a man of great ambition; even in times of crisis, his mind was filled with thoughts. But then he heard Di Yong call him "Jiesheng," and Hou Fangjie immediately became serious. Di Yong rarely addressed him by his courtesy name, because usually it was Hou Fangjie who was speaking, and Di Yong never responded.

Di Yong pulled out a pre-written memorial from his breastplate and said in a deep voice, "Jiesheng, take my memorial to Qingzhou City to request reinforcements."

"You go! I'll guard the city!" Hou Fangjie said without even thinking.

"You're going to defend the city? Can you even hold out until I bring reinforcements back? Besides, what general leaves the battlefield?" A rare smile appeared in Di Yong's handsome eyes. "Qingzhou is adjacent to Huanzhou in Huanqing Road. If Huanzhou falls, Qingzhou will be in grave danger. Qingping Pass is under siege right now, and I'm afraid Anbian City, Luogou Fort, Ayuan Fort, Zhutai Fort, and other places have already fallen. So you must head straight for Qingzhou City, understand?"

It was rare to hear this kid speak so much in one breath. Hou Fangjie frowned, not taking the memorial, but instead argued, "Why don't I go to Tonggui Fort and Huiding Fort for help? They're much closer than Qingzhou City."

"How many soldiers could those places possibly have? Why would they abandon their fortresses to come to the rescue of this place?" Di Yong turned his gaze to the Western Xia army in the distance. At this time, it was a break in the ceasefire between the two armies, and the soldiers on both sides tacitly agreed not to attack each other and collected the corpses of their own soldiers on the battlefield.

Di Yong inherited his father's tradition of training soldiers, and the soldiers he meticulously trained were naturally much stronger than ordinary troops. However, he had only been in Huanzhou City for a short time, and these soldiers were definitely not capable of taking on ten men each. Di Yong's gaze was firm, and he said sternly, "Deputy General Hou, don't waste time. Go and select twenty men and send them directly to Qingzhou City on horseback."

Hearing his friend address him differently, Hou Fangjie pursed his lips, knowing he had no choice but to accept the mission. Military orders were absolute; as Di Yong's adjutant, he couldn't disobey them.

When Di Yong saw Hou Fangjie take the memorial, he pulled a piece of Qinzhou Nixing pottery tiger-shaped hand-held piece from his waist and said indifferently, "Please hold this for me first, I'm afraid it will be broken during the defense of the city."

Hou Fangjie accepted it nonchalantly. He already knew that his brother had this auspicious-looking clay tiger pendant on his waist when he left the capital, and he assumed it was a gift from some girl, often teasing him about it. Seeing that Di Yong was still thinking about it at this moment, Hou Fangjie was even more certain that it was a gift from someone else. However, he was in no mood for teasing at the moment, casually stuffing it into his breastplate, and asked with concern, "What about that unadorned coin? Did you wear it properly?"

This was not a precedent; General Di Qing had distributed all the unredeemed coins to his subordinates, and Hou Fangjie was afraid that Di Yong, being stubborn, would give away the treasure carelessly. Regardless of its authenticity, it was simply a matter of peace of mind.

Di Yong pulled a red thread from his neck, at the end of which hung a copper coin. Hou Fangjie saw that it was the Nine-Fold Seal script of the Imperial Song Dynasty and felt relieved. The opportunity to fight was fleeting, so he didn't waste any more words. He stepped forward and hugged Di Yong tightly, their armor clanging together. Then, he gritted his teeth, turned around, and left to select soldiers for the breakout and prepare everything.

Although the two argued about who should stay behind to defend the city, breaking through was an extremely dangerous mission. A squad of twenty men was nothing more than ants on the battlefield, their fate entirely dependent on whether the enemy would turn a blind eye.

Di Yong stood on the city wall for only a moment in a daze before calmly summoning his subordinates to arrange how to defend against the next attack from the Western Xia, with the most important task being to cover Hou Fangjie and his men's breakout. Speed ​​was of the essence in war, and after everything was quickly agreed upon, everyone waited inside the city gate. Hou Fangjie, while on horseback, put on his helmet and casually handed Di Yong a bronze ghost-shaped helmet.

"Hehe, I found this in your luggage. Is this the mask of Duke Wu Xiang? Wear it. Duke Wu Xiang's reputation is widely known among the Western Xia people, so it's something to rely on."

Hou Fangjie smiled broadly, showing no sign of the tension of facing imminent death, as if he were casually discussing with Di Yong where to have breakfast that day in Bianjing. He believed that life and death were preordained, and excessive worry and anxiety were superfluous emotions. Doing his best without regrets was enough.

Even Di Yong had to admire his friend's composure at this moment. He silently took the mask, covered his face, and hid his expression behind it.

The deafening sound of war drums echoed outside the city walls.

"Kill!" With a fierce shout, the city gate opened halfway, and Di Yong charged out first.

The yellow sand was mixed with black smoke from burning, and the air inside was filled with blood and foam. The sounds of fighting and screams of the dying echoed in the ears. It was like a nightmare from which one could never wake up.

"Huff..." Di Yong felt as if his lungs were about to explode. How long had it been since he had drunk water? Three hours? Or five hours?
The sun, obscured by clouds, reappeared. Di Yong was momentarily blinded by the glare of sunlight reflected off the blade, and involuntarily squinted. He then felt a sharp, piercing wind from the blade beside his ear, and instinctively dodged to the side, swinging his sword forcefully in his right hand. With the sensation of the blade piercing flesh, his opponent let out a muffled groan. Di Yong then kicked him hard, sending him crashing off the city wall.

"Hoo..." He really didn't want to open his eyes; he just wanted to fall into darkness. How long had it been since he'd slept? A day? Or two?

An arrow whistled through the air as it flew from below the wall. Di Yong slightly turned his head to dodge the arrow and opened his eyes with difficulty. The arrow pierced the haystack behind him, and immediately a soldier pulled it out, drew his bow, and fired it back.

Their weapons were exhausted, and this was the only way they could continue fighting. Using the swords and arrows of the Western Xia, they refused to fall easily as long as they could fight.

The walls of Qingping Pass were already in ruins, and the soldiers who still had the strength to stand were fighting a bloody battle against the Western Xia soldiers who were climbing up. Di Yong had lost count of how many times he had repelled the Western Xia army's attack. These Western Xia soldiers were like locusts that could never be killed; after one batch was killed, another batch would keep coming up.

The mask he was wearing had long been cut off by the enemy, who had even left a knife wound on his cheek.

It seems I have truly tarnished my father's reputation, unable to even protect a mask properly.

But why use blood-making tools?

On the battlefield, there's really no time to care what the opponent looks like.

I don't know who I killed, or who will kill me.

"Huff..." Di Yong cut down another Western Xia soldier, but he almost fell off the city wall along with him. He felt that his arms were so sore and numb that they didn't belong to him anymore, and his body was covered with knife wounds. He was only holding on by his last breath. The knife in his hand was dull. He bent down to pick up a Western Xia army scimitar and looked around at the situation.

Of the three thousand soldiers under his command, only about a hundred can now stand on the wall.

Di Yong let out a deep breath. He had known the war would develop this way, so he wasn't particularly moved. Fortunately, Hou Fangjie had already successfully broken through the encirclement, which put his mind at ease. If his friend had been any more astute, he wouldn't have been able to deceive him so easily.

Qingzhou is more than 200 li away from Huanzhou. When Hou Fangjie left, each of them took two horses to change, and if all went well, they could reach Qingzhou City in half a day. But the difficulty lay in whether Qingzhou City would send reinforcements.

With many fortresses and strongholds in Huanzhou falling one after another, sending a small number of reinforcements would be nothing short of suicide. But if a large number of reinforcements were sent, what if they fell into the enemy's trap of luring them away from their strongholds? Unlike Huanzhou on the border, Qingzhou City is an important border town. Once it falls, the Western Xia army can march straight to Bianjing along the Huanqing Road, which would be a great worry for the Song Dynasty.

Therefore, from the moment Di Yong discovered the Western Xia army, he knew that he was facing a deadly battle.

His order for Hou Fangjie to break through the encirclement from the very beginning wasn't solely driven by his own selfish desire to save his friend's life. More importantly, it was to instill a sense of hope and belief in his subordinates. They had called for reinforcements; perhaps in the next moment, reinforcements would arrive to rescue them. So, if they could just hold on a little longer, just a little longer…

Everyone held such high hopes, but Di Yong felt no remorse for deceiving his subordinates.

Either way, it's death. So, should you fight to the death, or bow your head, kneel down, and beg for mercy before you die?

Why not die a worthy death?

Why did no one realize how dangerous the situation was for their Great Song Dynasty?

Why didn't anyone notice that the tigers and wolves around them were eyeing them menacingly?
Why is it that no one knows they are sitting on a dangerous, leaky pleasure boat, slowly sinking into the sea, while those people on board can drink and make merry without a care in the world?
Filled with rage, Di Yong once again slashed down a Western Xia soldier who had climbed over the wall. He no longer possessed the former charm of the most handsome man in the Song Dynasty; covered in blood, he looked more like a vengeful ghost crawling out of the underworld.

His body followed his instincts, hacking and slashing with each stroke, but the words that had been bothering him for so long kept resurfacing in his mind.

Paying money to buy peace of mind...

He didn't disagree with that person's viewpoint; everyone sees things from a different perspective. Perhaps that person had lived in a peaceful and prosperous world for too long and had forgotten the turbulent undercurrents hidden beneath the calm surface. Not only that person, but many people in Bianjing believed that the world was filled with song and dance, and the country was at peace.

The birds in the sky sing sweetly and frolic freely in the forest. Little do they know that the wolves in the woods below have been fighting for this territory for generations.

When a forest changes hands, even a good bird can choose a tree to roost in, but a lone wolf that has lost its home, as long as it has any backbone, will not linger on in this world!

He must defend the territory of the Song Dynasty! Otherwise, if this continues, the Song Dynasty's territory will shrink more and more, eventually leading to its demise...

……

Ah... Buddha... I offer my life to you... If you hear my prayer... I hope that day will not come so soon...

……

The red thread snapped, and the Imperial Song Nine-Fold Seal around Di Yong's neck traced a graceful arc in the air before falling from the city wall to the ground. It bounced twice before finally lying quietly in a pool of blood.

The midday sun shone on the copper coin, revealing no inscriptions.

It's the back side.

The wind rose, bringing with it a blizzard of yellow sand, which gradually covered and buried the copper coin...

In the third year of the Zhiping era, in the ninth month, on the day of Renwu, the Western Xia general Renduohan led 30,000 elite troops to invade Huanzhou City, but failed to capture it after a prolonged siege. Di Yong, son of Duke Wuxiang, fought a bloody battle for three days, with 3,000 men killing over 10,000 enemy soldiers, but ultimately was defeated due to the collapse of the city walls. Not a single one of the 3,000 men surrendered; they all died for their country. Such a bloody battle, unprecedented in more than a hundred years, shocked the entire nation.

Di Yong's memorial reached Bianjing, bearing nine characters written in blood. Although it quoted a famous saying from the time of Emperor Wu of Han, it still resonated powerfully!

"Those who offend our Great Song Dynasty will be punished no matter how far away they are!"

end
Decades later, the elderly Hou Fangjie was resting on a recliner in the courtyard when his five-year-old grandson ran over, giggling and showing off something in his hand like a treasure.

"Grandpa! Grandpa! Look! There's a copper coin inside this clay tiger!" The child exclaimed, only then realizing that the clay tiger was his grandfather's most treasured possession. He quickly explained, "It was my little brother's fault; he wasn't holding it properly when he took it out of the box, and it fell and broke..."

The child didn't continue speaking because his grandfather had snatched the clay tiger from his hand and was staring blankly at the copper coin that had broken in two inside the cracked clay tiger.

After crying for a while, the child realized that his beloved grandfather was ignoring him this time, so he had no choice but to walk away to his parents.

The autumn sun wasn't particularly intense, but Hou Fangjie was already drenched in a cold sweat.

Only then did he realize why, when he broke through the encirclement years ago, he clearly felt himself being cut by a sharp blade, but after desperately breaking through, he found himself completely unharmed.

So that's how it is... So he had long harbored the intention to die for his country...

“Stau…”

When the child grabbed his parents for support, trying to get the pottery tiger, he discovered that his grandfather had closed his eyes forever.

The shattered copper coin was clutched tightly in his hand.

Nobody can produce it.

(End of this chapter)