activa-t Chapter 4: A Grand Wedding in White Robes, 3 Wei Family Army Soldiers!
Chapter 4: A Grand Wedding in White Robes, 3 Wei Family Army Soldiers!
Wei Zhao stood up and turned around, and saw Liu Jingshuang standing at the entrance of the mourning hall.
In the entire mourning hall, besides the old lady and him, there was only his sister-in-law.
None of the other eight sisters-in-law were present.
Wei Zhao knew in his heart that this was the old lady's arrangement.
She must have assigned tasks overnight.
The eight sisters-in-law each had their own strengths: the second sister-in-law managed the finances, the third sister-in-law was skilled in military formations, the fifth sister-in-law was proficient in weaponry...
The old lady suffered because the imperial court was unreliable. Her food supplies were cut off, her intelligence was intercepted, and her military supplies were embezzled. In the previous disastrous defeat, that old dog Lu Song had overstepped his bounds.
This time, she's determined to take control of everything.
Today, Liu Jingshuang changed into a white outfit, with a sword at her waist and a white cloth tied around her head.
She stood there, her back ramrod straight, her gaze fixed on Wei Zhao, a hint of surprise flickering in her fierce phoenix eyes.
She was sizing him up.
Wei Zhao could sense it.
What is this woman looking at?
Judging from his complexion today, his posture, the force with which he kowtowed, and the expression on his face when he said those words.
The medicine bottle that lay on the wooden board yesterday coughing up blood is so different from the person in front of me.
Liu Jingshuang frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed. She didn't ask any further questions.
She had seen many people in the military who had grown up overnight due to the dramatic changes in their family's circumstances.
Some soldiers were crying teenagers when they enlisted, but after their first battle, they could calmly wipe their swords and go into battle.
Wei Zhao is a descendant of the Wei family, so it's not surprising that he has this trait in his bones.
Besides—she didn't expect Wei Zhao to do anything.
The title of commander-in-chief was nominal; the one who actually fought was her, the old matriarch, and the veterans of the Wei family army who had followed the Wei family through three generations of life and death.
As long as Wei Zhao stands in the central command tent and doesn't cause trouble, that would be the best outcome.
She was thinking about something else.
Gourd Valley.
Northern Rong.
And her husband's head.
"Sister-in-law."
Wei Zhao called out.
Liu Jingshuang withdrew her gaze and responded faintly:
"Um."
"From now on, in the army, just call me by my name."
After Liu Jingshuang finished speaking, the old matriarch spoke up:
"Now that the wedding has been arranged, let's stop calling her 'sister-in-law' and the others as well, so as not to give anyone cause for gossip."
Wei Zhao nodded in agreement.
Liu Jingshuang remained silent.
He simply turned to the old lady, knelt on one knee, and clasped his hands in a fist salute.
This set of movements was executed with such precision, it was as if it had been done ten thousand times in a military camp.
"Mother, the army is ready."
The old lady sat in her armchair, her iron cane resting on her knees, and nodded.
"Wei Zhao will be the commander-in-chief, and I and Jing Shuang will be his deputies."
She paused, then looked at Wei Zhao.
"Zhao'er, this counts as marriage."
"The ceremony was incomplete, and not all the people were present; we'll make up for it later."
"The most important thing right now is the northern border—if we drag this out any longer, Yanmen Pass will no longer be just a matter for our Wei family, but for the entire Great Wei."
Wei Zhao nodded without saying anything more.
Everything that needed to be said was contained in those three kowtows.
The old lady stood up, her iron cane slamming heavily on the ground with a crisp, metallic clang.
"Let's march!"
The doors to the mourning hall were pushed open, and the morning light poured in.
Wei Zhao stepped out, only to be frozen in place by the sight before him.
On the drill ground, the sea of heads stretched as far as the eye could see.
Three hundred thousand soldiers guarding the home.
The armor was thick, and the weapons were like a forest.
Three hundred thousand people stood in the cold wind, not a single person spoke, only the banners fluttered in the wind.
Each soldier's helmet was wrapped with a white cloth, and each military flag was tied with a strand of white hemp.
They are wearing mourning clothes.
Wear mourning clothes for the nine generals who died in battle.
Standing on the steps and looking down, Wei Zhao felt a silent pressure emanating from the 300,000 people, which almost made his knees buckle.
There was no sadness in the eyes of these people. Only murderous intent. It was the kind of murderous intent that had been suppressed to the extreme, ready to explode at any moment.
A gust of wind came from behind him.
Liu Jingshuang strode to the front of the command platform and snatched the Wei family banner from the flag soldier's hand.
She held the battle flag embroidered with a golden tiger high, the white cloth wrapped around the flagpole bursting open in the wind.
"The Guardians of the Family Army!"
Her voice wasn't particularly loud, but it had an amazing penetrating power, like a sharp blade slicing through the chilly morning breeze.
"Let's march!"
Three hundred thousand people stomped their feet at the same time.
boom.
The ground trembled, and the muffled sound traveled from the soles of his feet all the way to Wei Zhao's chest, making his internal organs tingle.
Immediately afterwards, three hundred thousand voices merged into a torrent—
"Wei! Wei! Wei—!"
The "Wei" in "defending the homeland"!
Blood rushed straight to his forehead.
Wei Zhao clenched the family head's token in his palm until his knuckles turned white.
He had only ever seen the phrase "blood boiling" in books before.
Now he knows it wasn't an exaggeration.
It was truly boiling. It was as if the blood in his veins was being boiled, pumped from his heart and rushing to every extremity, scalding him until his scalp tingled.
He glanced at Liu Jingshuang.
The eldest sister-in-law stood on the command platform, holding a flag in one hand and a sword in the other, her white outfit fluttering in the morning breeze.
His face, cold as ice, was devoid of any extra expression; his brows and eyes held a murderous glint, and his jawline was sharp and clean.
The morning light shone through her from behind, giving her silver armor a thin layer of gold trim.
Wei Zhao had a thought that was completely out of place with the current atmosphere.
It's fucking good.
Beautiful and rusty.
He quickly suppressed the thought.
Liu Jingshuang's voice rang out again, this time without shouting slogans, but turned to him.
Those phoenix eyes looked over coldly, their voice devoid of any emotion.
"Commander Wei, please mount your horse."
Commander Wei.
These two words struck Wei Zhao's ears with a heavy, burning sensation.
He held the token and walked down the steps.
A jet-black warhorse had been led in front of them, with a white cloth tied to its mane.
Wei Zhao mounted his horse.
The movements weren't particularly graceful, but they were steady.
The physical attributes granted by the God of Slaughter template protected him from public embarrassment.
The horses' hooves clattered on the frozen ground.
Three hundred thousand eyes were fixed on him. Scrutinizing, suspicious, observing, indifferent—all kinds of gazes were present.
But no one backed down, and no one fell behind.
The Wei family army recognizes the Wei flag, not the person standing under it.
At least that's how it is now.
Wei Zhao sat on horseback, feeling the God of Slaughter template stirring slightly within his body.
On the panel, the Killing God Value number is still a big zero.
Not urgent.
He looked north, his gaze passing over the dense military formations, over the walls of Yanmen Pass, and landing on the vast snow-covered plain.
There, the iron cavalry of the Northern Rong, the unresolved blood feud, and the blood of his nine brothers whom he had never met spilled in Calabash Valley.
And there's his trump card for turning the tide.
"Pass on the order!"
Liu Jingshuang's voice came from beside her, as swift and decisive as a knife slicing through tofu:
"All troops, march! Target: Hulu Valley, outside Yanmen Pass!"
Suddenly, a fast horse galloped in from the direction of the pass. The scout on horseback, covered in blood, tumbled and scrambled off the horse, shouting:
"Urgent report—30,000 vanguard cavalry from the Northern Rong have breached the Canglang Pass and are advancing rapidly towards Yanmen Pass!"