A special thank you to all my patrons.
The List of My "Wandering Reader":
-Davis Nguyen
-Cain
-Jacob Mooe
-HADES
-Varun Madhu
-Gonzalo Sumalavia
-kevin Williams
-MIKE
-KD2001
-merp.
-Jose Carrillo
-Derek M
-DancingMonkey65
-Joseph
-Jose Sierra
-AR3S
You can read 50 chapters ahead of everyone on p@treon.
P@TREON - [email protected]/lessaservantofcosmos
(just replace the "@" with "a")
ps: Please support me on P@treon. I can really use your help!
—————————————————————
By now, it was close to the hour of Xu (7–9 PM), and the sky was gradually darkening. Although the Yellow Turban rebels were nearby, they showed no intention of launching a nighttime assault on the city. Instead, they set up camp and halted their advance.
Fei Qian truly hadn't expected the Yellow Turbans to be so bold as to directly threaten Hangu Pass with their military might…
Though news of the rebels' approach had spread, since the attack had yet to begin, the common folk slowly calmed down. Even if the danger of an assault loomed tomorrow, at least for now, they were safe.
Fei Qian did not ascend the city walls. Instead, he strolled along the main east-west street within Hangu Pass. The pass had originally been built to defend against attacks from the east, so its eastern walls were naturally towering and robust. However, the western walls were no less formidable—certainly not something the poorly equipped Yellow Turbans could easily breach.
Moreover, the Yellow Turbans had long lost the fervor they once possessed under the leadership of the Zhang brothers. The fanatical zeal of religious devotees, charging fearlessly like ants scaling a wall, had once struck terror into the hearts of defenders.
But now, the Zhang brothers had been beheaded, and the myth of the invincible "Yellow Turban Warriors" had long been shattered. Everyone knew that the rebels were mere mortals—they bled, they felt pain, and they could die…
Thus, if the Yellow Turbans below the walls lacked siege equipment and still attempted a human-wave assault, even the slightly lower western walls of Hangu Pass would leave them battered and broken.
The only uncertainty now was the limited number of troops Zheng Yan had left behind in Hangu Pass. With around three thousand regular soldiers and ample provisions, holding the pass for ten days to half a month would have been no issue.
But with the current meager garrison, defending both sides of the walls was undoubtedly insufficient…
Fei Qian glanced up at the soldiers standing guard atop the eastern walls, then shook his head and turned back. Night had fallen, and even if they intended to leave Hangu Pass, they would have to wait until morning. Traveling by night through mountainous terrain—especially in the Han Dynasty, where population density was still low—was practically a death wish.
Just as Fei Qian returned to the courier station, he encountered the stationmaster directing attendants to empty the water storage jars in each courtyard…
"What's going on here?" Fei Qian asked.
The stationmaster hurriedly stepped forward and replied, "Reporting to Assistant Secretary Fei, the water has been stored for too long and has bred insects. Thus, we are emptying and scrubbing the jars before refilling them with fresh water."
"Oh!" Fei Qian nodded, offering no objection.
Seeing this, the stationmaster immediately ordered a few attendants to start with the jars in Fei Qian and Huang Cheng's courtyard. Several attendants promptly set down the half-emptied jars they were handling and rushed toward Fei Qian's quarters.
Suddenly, a thought struck Fei Qian, and he called out to stop them. "It's already late today. You can empty them tomorrow. Besides, if you spill water everywhere now, how are we supposed to stay here tonight?"
"Ah? Well…" The stationmaster forced a smile. "The ground is dry—the water will soak in quickly. It won't be a problem. Besides, the stagnant water is foul and could harm the health of esteemed guests like yourselves…"
Fei Qian walked over to one of the jars, scooped up some water, and sniffed it. There was a faint odor, but it was far from being putrid. He flicked the water off his hand and said, "Empty them tomorrow."
The stationmaster seemed about to argue further, but when he noticed Huang Cheng glaring at him from beside Fei Qian, he quickly bowed and said, "Yes, yes, tomorrow it is… tomorrow it is…"
With that, he ushered the attendants out of the courtyard.
The courier station at Hangu Pass was quite large. Beyond the front two rows of buildings, there were four smaller courtyards for lodging, and further back was a large rear courtyard for parking carriages, stables, kitchens, and other functional spaces.
Thanks to his position as Left Ofiice Assistant Secretary, Fei Qian had secured one of the courtyards for his group. The weather was still cool, so crowding together wasn't uncomfortably stuffy.
Once the stationmaster and attendants had left, Huang Cheng remarked, "My lord, those men… something feels off."
Emptying the water jars wasn't inherently suspicious—but the timing was.
In the Han Dynasty, most people ate only two meals a day, so labor was typically done between these meals—early morning and late afternoon. It was rare for work to suddenly be assigned as night fell.
While laborers of the time had no concept of overtime pay, it was still unusual for tasks to be assigned so late unless absolutely necessary…
Moreover, with the Yellow Turbans at the city gates, why would a courier stationmaster suddenly take an interest in whether the water in the storage jars had gone stale?
What kind of mindset would lead to that?
Fei Qian nodded. He had sensed something amiss earlier, which was why he had stopped them from emptying the jars in his courtyard. Still, he couldn't yet fathom their true intentions.
As a precaution, Fei Qian discreetly sent Huang Xu with a few men to guard the rear courtyard where the carriages were kept, dividing them into two shifts for rest. Huang Cheng remained in the courtyard with the rest of the soldiers.
The night deepened, but Fei Qian felt no urge to sleep.
Too much had happened today, one event after another, leaving him almost overwhelmed.
The Yellow Turbans' sudden appearance at the city walls was especially baffling.
It was as if they had bypassed easy prey—a juicy piece of meat—only to gnaw stubbornly at a bone for its meager marrow.
Unless the army from Mianchi had already marched toward Xin'an, cutting off the rebels' retreat and forcing them toward Hangu Pass, there was no logical explanation.
But even that theory left unanswered questions…
The night hung like a thick black curtain, shrouding everything in darkness.
Outside the courtyard, faint, scattered noises began to rise—initially too sporadic to notice, but gradually growing louder.
One of Fei Qian's guards opened the gate to investigate. The moment he pushed it ajar, an arrow shot in from outside, striking him down. His dying scream alerted everyone in the courtyard…
Several torches were hurled in, landing at the entrance. With a whoosh, flames erupted skyward!
Unnoticed, piles of dry straw—likely doused with oil—had been stacked outside the gate. The fire spread unnaturally fast, swiftly encircling the courtyard in a ring of flames. The blaze roared, the heat so intense it seemed to sear the very air…
By the time Fei Qian rushed out of his room, the fire had already engulfed the courtyard's perimeter, trapping them in a deadly inferno. The raging flames devoured everything, reducing all life within to ashes. Waves of scorching heat rolled toward him.
Through the flickering firelight, Fei Qian glimpsed the faces of the soldiers outside—their features twisted in the blaze. At their head stood a man who looked unmistakably like Hangu Pass's commander, Zheng Yan!
Zheng Yan clasped his hands in salute amid the flames and declared, "Assistant SecretaryFei, safe travels—we won't be seeing you off!"