Xie Miao’er clearly knew she was in a dream.
Her consciousness followed Lu Huaihai all the way to Ninghai County in Taizhou Prefecture.
She finally saw what the sea looked like, though it was within a dream.
Yet, Xie Miao’er couldn’t muster any happiness.
Here, the coastline was winding and twisting, with flocks of seagulls and egrets occasionally skimming across the horizon, diving into the sea to catch fish.
However, the lives of the people here were far from as free as those birds.
After the death of the founding emperor of the Yongchao, the maritime ban was slightly loosened, no longer as strict as before when even a single plank was not allowed to go to sea. Coastal fishermen took advantage of the relaxation to resume their old livelihood, and the officials governing the area turned a blind eye, not cutting off their means of survival entirely.
But due to the recent frequent invasions by Japanese pirates, coastal defenses had tightened. It was the season when fish were plentiful, yet no one dared to go out to sea to fish.
However, even if the maritime ban hadn’t tightened, no one would dare to venture out to sea right now.
The desolate coastline was littered with abandoned, broken fishing boats. Severed limbs and remains could be seen everywhere. The once-congealed dark red blood, washed by the salty sea water, had turned into an eerie pale pink.
The villages along the coast had long been reduced to ashes in raging fires.
Faced with such devastation, the group that had rushed here clenched their fists tightly.
—To resist the foreign invaders, the Taizhou prefect, Meng Cheng, had recruited over a thousand local militiamen. After hastily training them, Meng Cheng personally led them into battle.
“Sir, the coastline of Ninghai County is too rugged and winding. The Japanese pirates are disorganized and scatter after looting, burning villages to cover their tracks. They are too scattered, and we can’t pursue them like this,” an aide said to Meng Cheng.
Prefect Meng Cheng furrowed his brows deeply and ordered his men to stand by.
After years of peace, the military households along the southeastern coast had become indistinguishable from farmers, knowing only how to till the land. Many had deserted, and now it was unclear how many were merely drawing empty paychecks. If not for this, Meng Cheng wouldn’t have resorted to recruiting soldiers.
On the way here, every small county town had already been looted clean, and only a dozen or so Japanese pirates had been captured.
Chasing them like this wasn’t a solution. Meng Cheng turned to the young man beside him and asked, “Qianyuan, what’s your opinion?”
Lu Huaihai, under the alias Lu Qianyuan, had joined this force. His physical abilities were outstanding, and he excelled in archery, horsemanship, and swordsmanship. Among the rest of the hastily trained soldiers, he stood out like a crane among chickens, quickly catching Meng Cheng’s attention.
“We can only make a choice—focus on dealing with the most ferocious group first,” Lu Huaihai replied.
This young newcomer’s opinion coincided with his own, and Meng Cheng nodded in agreement.
Meng Cheng was all too aware of the quality of the troops he currently had. The Japanese pirates, who had crossed the seas, were all skilled warriors. If they broke up into smaller groups to chase after them, it would be no different from sending sheep into a tiger’s mouth.
After that, he, Lu Huaihai, and a few aides used the beach as a sand table, analyzing the movements and locations of the Japanese pirates. They locked onto the most ferocious group and decided to target them.
On the way, a young man who had grown familiar with Lu Huaihai in a one-sided manner during this time sighed, “I wonder if I’ll live to collect the reward money. Qianyuan, why do you only eat dry rations? Don’t you want some dried fish?”
His name was Zeng Wei, and he was annoyingly talkative. Whether or not others responded, he could keep talking to himself.
If not for having seen fish in the river gnawing at bloated corpses, Lu Huaihai might have been willing to taste the dried fish.
Knowing why Lu Huaihai wasn’t eating, Zeng Wei teased him on purpose. “I say, you’re too delicate. This dried fish isn’t freshly made, you know.”
As he spoke, he stuffed the food into his mouth.
“Sigh, I wonder if I’ll be able to chop off a head and exchange it for some silver. My family’s poor—I’m already over twenty and haven’t married yet. I’m counting on this opportunity to try my luck.”
That was Zeng Wei’s reason for joining the militia, as was the case for most of the soldiers, except for Lu Huaihai. They were here to gamble with their lives.
The city’s curfew hours were being pushed earlier and earlier. The land couldn’t be properly farmed, businesses couldn’t operate, and fishing at sea was out of the question. Yet people still had to eat. Joining the militia became a viable option.
After trekking for three whole days, the scouts ahead reported back:
“Sir, the Japanese pirates have already attacked Lianpan Fort!”
Meng Cheng asked, “How many of them are there?”
The scout replied, “Over two hundred.”
It was a tough enemy. However, the arrow was already on the string and had to be released.
When the Japanese pirates saw the government troops approaching, they attempted to flee to the sea after looting what they could. However, upon realizing that the pursuers were not as incompetent as the defenders of the other towns they had encountered, and were relentlessly chasing them, the pirates abruptly stopped fleeing and turned to attack instead!
The pirates were audacious, wielding their short and narrow Japanese swords. Dividing into two groups, they launched a fierce charge under the command of their leader.
As the pirates drew closer, their bizarre, eye-catching hairstyles and the armor of the vanguard, combined with the gloomy sky, made them appear like ferocious demons.
Meng Cheng ordered, “All squad leaders, change formation! Surround them on both sides!”
The archers, along with a few holding matchlock muskets, quickly formed a horizontal line and rushed forward amidst the thunderous sound of footsteps.
Drums signaled the charge, and close combat began. Under Meng Cheng’s trust, Lu Huaihai took on a role akin to a “chief squad leader,” personally leading fifty men to flank the pirates.
One man’s courage is no match for an entire army. Only those skilled in commanding troops can prevail. However, the Japanese pirates were mostly impoverished and wicked individuals from the most desolate areas of their country, for whom looting was already a profession. Even if the government troops outnumbered them, most of the soldiers had been farmers and fishermen just a month ago. Even the legendary Sun Tzu would feel a headache commanding such a ragtag army.
Several times, the formation was on the verge of breaking. Lu Huaihai strained to hold the line. At a critical moment, he seized the opportunity, leaped onto a large rock, drew his bow, and suddenly turned to shoot at the nearest pirate leader.
With a sharp twang, the pirate leader fell to the ground.
Lu Huaihai’s bold move drew more of the pirates’ attention toward him, increasing the pressure on him. Yet he gritted his teeth and did not retreat. Inspired by him, the five squads under his command fought with increasing ferocity, tearing a hole in the pirates’ formation.
Seeing this, Meng Cheng was overjoyed and immediately ordered the remaining squads to charge toward the breach created by Lu Huaihai.
In the midst of the battle, Lu Huaihai’s mind was devoid of all distractions. In his eyes, there was only his sword and a sea of red:
With one slash, blood spurted from a pirate’s neck.
With another sweep, a pirate’s armored arm was severed.
Lu Huaihai knew he must have been bleeding heavily too—why else would his scalp feel so numb?
A Japanese sword slashed across his face. Leaning back slightly, the blade’s deadly chill barely missed his nose. He spun and countered, stabbing his sword into the pirate’s abdomen.
At that moment, another splash of red filled Lu Huaihai’s vision—
Zeng Wei, who had been joking on the road about chopping off pirate heads to earn money for a wife, had already been decapitated by a pirate.
Without a moment to freeze in shock, Lu Huaihai swiftly pulled his sword out of the pirate’s abdomen and severed the arm of the one holding Zeng Wei’s head.
The Japanese pirates, rarely encountering well-prepared Yongchao troops, had grown used to absurd victories like capturing an entire city with just ten men. Faced with fiercer and more determined opponents, they fought and retreated, eventually breaking into chaos.
Seeing the tide of battle turn in their favor, Meng Cheng ordered a full pursuit to ensure the pirates had no chance to retreat to the sea.
The outcome was far better than Meng Cheng had anticipated. He approached the exhausted Lu Huaihai, who was standing only with the support of his sword, and patted him on the shoulder.
“When we return, I will personally speak with your father,” Meng Cheng said.
As the prefect of Taizhou, Meng Cheng had, of course, met Lu Paizhang before. Seeing this young man “Lu Qianyuan” so capable, both brave and resourceful, Meng Cheng naturally thought of the stories circulating in the city about the Lu family and guessed his true identity.
Such a talent would be a great loss if wasted. Filled with admiration, Meng Cheng resolved to cultivate this rising star.
### Such a Talent, If Wasted, Would Be a Great Tragedy
Meng Cheng felt a strong sense of appreciation for talent.
Hearing Meng Cheng’s words, Lu Huaihai knew he should feel pleased.
After all, wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?
Yet, as he looked at Zeng Wei’s decapitated head, with its wide-open eyes staring in disbelief, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He couldn’t even muster a polite response to Meng Cheng’s praise.
Those eyes, unable to close in peace, and the blood gushing from the severed neck, finally revealed to Lu Huaihai the brutal essence of war.
Seeing this, Meng Cheng called for his men. “Help him down to rest.”
Meng Cheng suddenly felt that he might have spoken too soon.
On the battlefield, many men lose their courage. Perhaps he should wait and see if Lu Huaihai could endure this ordeal. Only if he could pass through it and remain steadfast in his resolve would he truly be worthy of cultivation.
That night, in the camp, Lu Huaihai developed a high fever.
A slash across his back, though not particularly deep, had become infected.
Watching anxiously from the side, Xie Miao’er, who was suspended outside of reality, was so worried she was about to burst. Yet, she could do nothing but helplessly watch as the army doctor roughly treated Lu Huaihai’s wound.
The blow had torn through his armor, which had absorbed most of the force, but fragments of the shattered armor had lodged in the wound. The army doctor was now picking them out.
There were many injured and few doctors, so the doctor worked quickly and without much care.
Lu Huaihai lay prone on the bed, his bare back exposed. His eyes remained shut, and he didn’t utter a single sound.
Xie Miao’er’s heart ached terribly.
So this was when he started enduring pain so silently.
The next day, Lu Huaihai was already back on his feet. He walked to Meng Cheng, requesting to lead a unit to pursue the remaining small bands of Japanese pirates.
This dream left an even deeper impression than the last. Xie Miao’er stayed by his side in the dream for more than five months. When she finally woke up, she could no longer tell what day it was.
Her heart pounded like a drum, refusing to calm down.
Usually particular about her daily routines, this was the first time she didn’t immediately freshen up after waking. Instead, she sat silently by the bedside, staring blankly ahead. It wasn’t until Yue Chuang, worried that she was unwell, gently asked why she hadn’t risen yet that Xie Miao’er finally parted her dry lips and replied with difficulty, “I’m fine.”
Yue Chuang was tactful and didn’t pry further. She simply said, “Alright then, madam. I’ll go reheat the porridge.”
Xie Miao’er hummed softly in response, curling herself up and burying her head deeply in her knees, just as she used to do when she felt unwell.
But in the past, it was usually physical discomfort that drove her to do so. Curling up like this would somehow lessen the pulling pain in her chest.
Yet now, this posture did nothing to ease the sorrow and heaviness weighing on her heart.
Xie Miao’er thought, perhaps she had oversimplified everything.
Because he was Lu Huaihai, did that mean he was destined to cut through thorns and charge forward without hesitation?
In the dream, after witnessing his comrade’s head held high in an enemy’s hand, Lu Huaihai spent sleepless nights, lying awake until dawn. Only when his body’s exhaustion overtook all else could he finally drift off.
He wasn’t a god of war—he was human.
Xie Miao’er let out a long, heavy sigh, expelling the breath that had been pent up in her chest.
By her calculations, it would still be some time before Lu Huaihai returned.
But she couldn’t wait to hold him tight.