xymnovel Chapter 39 Northern Expedition
Chapter 39 Northern Expedition
The June sun was scorching, baking the soil on both banks of the Han River until it cracked. Yet, standing atop the city wall of Xiangyang, Ma Yongsheng felt a chill in his heart. The wind blew from the north, carrying an indescribable, acrid smell, as if too much had been burned, or as if... too much had rotted in the ground.
A month ago, he was dying of illness in Wuchang, thinking he wouldn't survive the summer. The antidote Jin Shenghuan brought back saved his life and also saved half of Jiangnan. But now, standing in Xiangyang, a place that has been a strategic location fought over by military strategists since ancient times, and looking north, he doesn't see a beautiful landscape, but a land that is dying.
Scouts returned wave after wave, bringing back increasingly chilling news.
"Nine out of ten houses in Kaifeng are empty, the streets are piled high with corpses, and even the Qing army has fled..."
"Thirty li outside Zhengzhou, there's a village where the entire village has been wiped out. The corpses are rotting inside the houses, attracting packs of wild dogs..."
"The most eerie place is Luoyang. I heard there are zombies in the city. The dead get up and walk around at night, biting any living person they see..."
The word "zombie" sent a chill down the spines of the generals atop the city walls. They recalled the moving corpses of Wuchang, and the black "worms" they had dissected. If the plague in the north had mutated to that extent…
"Chief, shall we continue north?" Instructor Sun asked in a low voice. Even this battle-hardened veteran's voice trembled slightly.
Ma Yongsheng didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the crenellations, his fingers tracing the rough bricks. The city walls of Xiangyang were left over from the Song Dynasty and had been reinforced many times since. The cracks in the bricks were soaked with the blood of countless generations. Now, that blood might turn a different color.
"Head north," he finally said, his voice low but resolute, "but no longer for conquering cities and seizing territory."
He turned around and looked at the generals gathered in the city tower—Jin Shenghuan, Instructor Sun, Li Dingguo, Zhang Huangyan, and several newly promoted young generals.
Everyone's face bore the weariness of a long journey, but their eyes still burned with fire.
"You've all seen it, the Qing Dynasty is finished. Not because we defeated it, but because they themselves released a plague that brought it down," Ma Yongsheng said. "What's the state of Beijing now? Are there any people left in the Forbidden City? How many of the Eight Banners troops are left? Nobody knows. But one thing is certain: those 'things' that released the poison are still here."
He paused for a moment, then continued, "Our primary objective in heading north this time is not to seize territory, but to find those 'things' and destroy their lair. Secondly, we will save as many people as we can. Every village we save adds to our morale and strength."
Jin Shenghuan frowned: "Brother Changsheng, do you mean... we're not going to be warlords anymore, but instead becoming philanthropists?"
"Warlords cannot save the country," Ma Yongsheng said. "Only the hearts of the people can save it. The plague destroyed the north, but it also gave us an opportunity—an opportunity to win people's hearts without resorting to force, but with benevolence and righteousness."
Li Dingguo spoke, his voice hoarse: "The General is right. I came from Sichuan and saw too many dead people along the way. In some villages, when they heard that our Jingnan Army had arrived, instead of resisting, they knelt by the roadside and wept. They said they would rather die by our swords than die from the plague. If we can really save them..."
He didn't finish speaking, but we all understood what he meant.
Zhang Huangyan added, "Moreover, we now have an antidote. Although there isn't much, every life saved is a life saved. Every person we save will earn us praise. Once the plague is over, the entire North will remember who reached out a helping hand in our time of need."
The generals fell silent.
They were all people who had lived on the edge of a knife, accustomed to life-or-death battles.
Suddenly having to switch to saving lives was a bit of a shock.
Ma Yongsheng knew what they were thinking and said slowly, "I know, this is not like fighting a war, but more like... practicing medicine and saving lives."
But think about it, why did we raise an army in the first place? It wasn't to become emperor, nor to be ennobled or appointed ministers; it was to prevent Han people from becoming slaves, and to ensure a better life for the people. Now, the people in the north are on the verge of death. If we don't go to save them, who will?
He looked around at everyone: "This battle may be harder than fighting a real war. People may die, diseases may spread, and we may be criticized even for doing good deeds. But this is the path we must take. Because only this path can lead to true popular support."
A wind blew in from the north, carrying a stench and something heavy. A moment of silence fell over the city wall.
Jin Shenghuan was the first to break the silence: "Brother Changsheng, I'm in this with you! We've braved mountains of knives and seas of fire, what are we afraid of when we're saving someone?"
"Your subordinate obeys!" Instructor Sun clasped his hands in a fist salute.
"This humble general is willing to go!" the generals said in unison.
Ma Yongsheng nodded: "Alright. We'll split into three routes: General Jin will lead 20,000 men on the eastern route, passing through Xinyang and Zhoukou, and advancing towards Kaifeng. Instructor Sun will lead 20,000 men on the western route, heading north along the Han River to capture Nanyang and Luoyang. I will lead 30,000 men on the central route, passing through Xuchang and heading straight for Zhengzhou. The three armies should not be too far apart and should maintain constant communication."
He paused for a moment: "Remember three things: First, upon arriving at a new place, distribute food and medicine to treat the people before considering anything else. Second, treat all surrendered Qing soldiers according to the Provisional Constitution; do not kill surrendered soldiers or mistreat prisoners. Third, if you encounter any 'abnormalities,' report them immediately; do not engage in a direct confrontation."
With the plan set, the army began its operation.
Ma Yongsheng personally led a central force of 30,000 elite troops, of whom 5,000 were special operations teams and medical personnel, specifically responsible for epidemic prevention and treatment. When they set off from Xiangyang, they did not carry siege equipment, but cartloads of food, herbs, lime, and precious antidotes—although there were less than a thousand doses, they could save lives in critical moments.
The first day north was filled with a chilling sight.
Less than fifty li from Xiangyang, scattered corpses began to appear along both sides of the official road. At first, there were one or two, then three or five, and later piles of them. Some died on the road, some in the fields, and some at their own doorsteps, their hands still outstretched as if pleading for help.
The plague clearly spread faster and farther than they had imagined.
"Bury it," Ma Yongsheng ordered.
The soldiers, suppressing their nausea, sprinkled lime on the bodies and then dug deep pits to bury them. At each burial site, they erected a wooden plaque inscribed with "Buried on [Date] by the Jingnan Army." There were no names, because they didn't know who they were.
The next day, they encountered the first village where people were still alive.
The village was called Liujiaji, a small village with only about a hundred households. A strong stench could be smelled from afar. At the village entrance lay a dozen or so corpses, already rotting, swarming with flies.
The village was deathly silent.
Ma Yongsheng ordered the main force to stop outside the village, while he led a small group inside. Every door was closed, and black blood seeped from some of the cracks. They knocked on several doors, but no one answered. They didn't see anyone until they reached the threshing ground in the center of the village.
Dozens of villagers, young and old, gathered there, all pale and emaciated with dull eyes. They showed little reaction when Ma Yongsheng and his group entered, as if they had become numb.
"Fellow villagers, we are the Jingnan Army, here to rescue you." Ma Yongsheng tried to keep his voice gentle.
An old man raised his eyelids, looked at him, then lowered his head again: "Save them? They're all dead... almost all of them..."
How many people are still alive in the village?
"I don't know... There were thirty-seven yesterday, but today... there are probably a few fewer," the old man muttered. "The plague has come; there's no escaping it, no running away... we're all going to die..."
Ma Yongsheng's heart tightened. He waved for the medical team to come forward and examine them. The results were grim: of the thirty-odd people present, more than half had already shown early symptoms—low-grade fever, cough, and red spots on their bodies. Several others were in serious condition, lying on straw mats, already unconscious.
"Isolate and treat them immediately!" he ordered. "Treat mild cases with herbal medicine, and severe cases... use the antidote."
"Chief, there's not much antidote left..." the physician whispered a reminder.
"Use it." Ma Yongsheng said without hesitation, "Save as many as you can."
The antidote was injected into the bodies of the critically ill patients. A miracle occurred—within half an hour, the high fever began to subside, their breathing stabilized, and some even opened their eyes.
A glimmer of light finally appeared in the villagers' blank stares.
"Miracle drug...it really is a miracle drug..." The old man stood up shakily, wanting to kneel, but was supported by Ma Yongsheng.
"Old man, this is not a miracle drug, but an antidote," Ma Yongsheng said. "What you have suffered from is not a natural disaster, but a man-made one. The Qing government in the north has released poison to kill all Han Chinese."
"The Qing court?" The villagers were bewildered. To them, the capital was too far away, the emperor was too far away, and their immediate life and death were far more important.
"Yes, the Qing government," Ma Yongsheng raised his voice, "but our Jingnan Army has the antidote that can save you. If you are willing, we can relocate the entire village to a safe place, give you land to cultivate, houses to live in, and help you get medical treatment."
The villagers looked at each other in disbelief. Could such a good thing really exist?
"But there's a condition," Ma Yongsheng said. "After you've cured them, you have to help us save people. Tell the other villages, tell everyone who's still alive: the Jingnan Army is here, they have the antidote, they have food, and they're willing to save every Han Chinese."
The old man was the first to kneel down, tears streaming down his face: "General! You are a true bodhisattva! We will follow you! We will help you!"
Other villagers also knelt down, and the sound of weeping filled the air.
Ma Yongsheng helped them up, but his heart was heavy. Saving one village was easy, but there were thousands upon thousands of villages in the north—could he possibly save them all?
That day, all thirty-seven surviving people from Liujiaji were taken away. Ma Yongsheng left behind a small team to spread lime throughout the village, burn everything that might be contaminated, and then continued north.
The further north you go, the worse the scene becomes.
Some villages became ghost villages, deserted except for corpses and packs of wild dogs. The dogs, having eaten carrion, had bloodshot eyes and would attack anyone they saw, forcing the villagers to shoot them.
In some villages, there are still living people, but they have gone mad and attack any outsiders they see, claiming that the plague god sent them to collect souls.
In some villages... "that thing" appeared.
It was the seventh day of their northward journey, outside a small town south of Xuchang. Scouts reported that "living corpses" were roaming the town.
Ma Yongsheng led his men to investigate. Sure enough, at the town entrance, several "people" were loitering around. They walked strangely, their joints were stiff, their skin was bluish-black, and their eyes were cloudy. Upon seeing Ma Yongsheng and his group, they made strange hoarse noises and pounced.
The special operations team was prepared and opened fire with muskets. The bullets hit the "zombies," and they only paused briefly before continuing their charge. They only truly fell when their legs were broken or their heads were blown off.
"Inspect the body," Ma Yongsheng ordered.
The soldiers forced themselves to move forward, their disgust palpable. The wounds of the "zombies" contained little blood, only black, slimy fluid. When dissected, their internal organs were rotting, but inside their brains… a black mass was writhing.
"It's the nanobots controlling the nervous system," Ma Yongsheng realized. These "zombies" were actually dead; it was the nanobots inside their bodies that were manipulating their bodies to continue spreading the plague.
"Burn them all! Burn them all!" he ordered. "Notify all troops that if they encounter these 'living corpses,' they must be burned to ashes."
That night, they camped outside the town. The atmosphere in the camp was oppressive; no one spoke. The sights they had witnessed during the day were so shocking that many of them had nightmares that night.
Ma Yongsheng couldn't sleep either. He stepped out of his tent and gazed at the northern night sky. The stars were bright, but the world seemed like hell.
Jin Shenghuan walked over and handed him a water pouch: "Have a drink to drive away the evil spirits."
Ma Yongsheng took it and sipped a small amount. The liquor was strong, burning his throat.
"Brother Changsheng," Jin Shenghuan sat down and sighed, "tell me, is there any hope for this world?"
"Yes." Ma Yongsheng looked at the starry sky. "As long as there are still people alive and still trying, there is hope."
"But can we save them all? We might save one village today, and two more will die tomorrow. We only have so many antidotes, and every dose we use is one less."
"So we have to find the source," Ma Yongsheng said. "The headquarters of those 'things' must be somewhere in the north. Once we destroy that place and cut off the root of the plague, the rest will be easy."
"Where can we look?"
Ma Yongsheng didn't answer. He didn't know either. The AI's base might be in Beijing, outside the Great Wall, or underground. But he had to find it, he had to destroy it.
Otherwise, seven hundred years from now, when the sun collapses, humanity won't even have a chance to struggle.
The campfire crackled, illuminating two silent figures.
The next day, they entered Xuchang territory. Unexpectedly, Xuchang was still defended—not by Qing troops, but by a self-organized militia. The flag hanging on the city wall was embroidered with the character "Yue".
"Yue?" Ma Yongsheng frowned. "This place isn't far from Yue Fei's hometown. Could we be descendants of the Yue family?"
A messenger was sent to make contact, and soon the city gates opened. A man in his thirties rode out on horseback, dressed in coarse cloth, but with a straight back and sharp eyes.
"I am Yue Zhenbang, a native of Tangyin." The man clasped his hands in greeting. "Hearing that the Jingnan Army is heading north to rescue the people, I have led my local militia to wait here."
Ma Yongsheng had heard of this name before—Yue Zhenbang, a descendant of Yue Fei, who organized a volunteer army to resist the Qing dynasty in Henan during the late Ming dynasty, and later disappeared without a trace. He never expected to meet him here.
"Why is General Yue here?" he asked.
"Xuchang City originally had 500 Qing soldiers, but when the plague came, most of them died, and the rest fled," Yue Zhenbang said. "I led my fellow villagers to occupy the city, intending to go south to join your army, but I was afraid of getting sick on the way, so I stayed here and held out. I never expected to see the General himself."
He paused, his voice low and somber: "The situation in the city is dire. Of the more than 30,000 people, half have died. Of the remaining half, another half have fallen ill. We lack medicine and food, and can only watch helplessly as people die."
"Take me to see it," Ma Yongsheng said.
Inside Xuchang city, the scene was even more tragic than outside.
The streets were littered with corpses; there wasn't time to bury them, so they were piled up on the roadside and covered with lime.
The living huddled in their homes, peeking through cracks in the doors. The air was thick with the smell of death.
Yue Zhenbang led them to the medical tent in the city center.
It was called a medical shed, but it was really just a thatched hut. Dozens of patients lay inside, their groans rising and falling. Several doctors were busy, but they were clearly exhausted.
Ma Yongsheng immediately had the medical team take over.
Antidotes should be given to severely ill patients first, while herbal remedies should be used for mild cases.
Food was also allocated from the army and soup kitchens were set up in the city.
As the news spread, more and more people came out of their homes. At first, they just watched from afar, but later some people boldly approached, took the porridge and drank the medicine, and found that it really worked. They immediately knelt down and kowtowed.
"Oh, Your Honor!"
"My savior!"
Cries and shouts of thanks filled the air.
Standing in front of the soup kitchen, Ma Yongsheng looked at those emaciated faces and those eyes that had finally found hope in despair, and felt a heavy weight in his heart.
Can he save this city, or the entire north?
That afternoon, Yue Zhenbang came to see him with important news.
"General, I have spies in the north," Yue Zhenbang said. "About half a month ago, something strange happened in the capital. Black smoke suddenly rose from the Forbidden City and lasted for three days and three nights. Afterwards, a large number of eunuchs and palace maids died, and even some Manchu officials died. Some people say that the 'elixir of immortality' in the palace exploded, and poison gas leaked out."
"A magic elixir?" Ma Yongsheng's heart skipped a beat.
"Yes, I heard that after Dorgon fell seriously ill, several 'immortals' came to the palace who knew how to concoct elixirs and medicines. The Manchus themselves took the medicines they made first, saying they could grant them immortality." Yue Zhenbang sneered, "And what happened? They poisoned themselves to death first."
Ma Yongsheng understood. It wasn't some kind of magic potion; it was AI creating a more efficient plague pathogen. The so-called "leak" was likely an experimental accident, or perhaps... internal strife?
"Who's in charge of things in the palace now?"
"I don't know." Yue Zhenbang shook his head. "The nine gates of the capital are tightly closed, and news from inside and outside is not circulating. Some say that Emperor Shunzhi is dead, some say that he has fled to the border, and some say... that a monster has appeared in the palace and eats people on sight."
Monsters. AI carriers.
Ma Yongsheng is almost certain that the headquarters of AI is in the Forbidden City.
Those "gods" are advanced AI units.
They use alchemy as a pretext to research and manufacture biological weapons.
We must go to Beijing.
But how to get there? From Xuchang to Shangjing, it's 800 li (approximately 400 kilometers), and the entire route is an epidemic area.
Will his 30,000 men be able to reach their destination safely?
"General Yue," he suddenly asked, "would you be willing to come north with me?"
Yue Zhenbang was taken aback: "Heading north? To the capital?"
"Yes, go and destroy that den of disease," Ma Yongsheng said. "Otherwise, the plague will never be eradicated."
Yue Zhenbang was silent for a moment, then nodded emphatically: "Yes! My life should have ended on the battlefield long ago. To be able to rid the world of this scourge, even death would be worthwhile!"
"Alright." Ma Yongsheng made the decision. "You select one thousand elite troops to accompany me north. The rest of the troops will remain in Xuchang to continue treating the people and await the arrival of the other two armies."
"Only a thousand people? That's too few!"
"More people are useless, they're just a burden," Ma Yongsheng said. "We need to be fast and stealthy on this journey. A thousand people are enough."
The plan was quickly finalized. Ma Yongsheng selected 500 special operations team members from his own troops, and Yue Zhenbang selected 500 elite soldiers from the local militia, forming a thousand-strong surprise force. Each man was equipped with two horses and carried only ten days' worth of dry rations and necessary weapons and medicine.
Target: Beijing, the Forbidden City.
On the eve of his departure, Ma Yongsheng wrote letters to Jin Shenghuan and Instructor Sun, outlining the follow-up arrangements. He also wrote to Wuchang, instructing Huang Zongxi and his men to stabilize the rear.
Finally, he wrote a letter home to Chen Xiuying and the others. It was very short, only a few sentences:
"Xiuying, Wan'er, Xiaolan, Tiemei, Amur: I'm going to the capital to take care of something I must do. If I don't come back, don't be sad. Raise the children well. Tell them that their father left so that they could live in a peaceful world. Don't worry. Live long."
After sending the letter, he sat alone in his tent for a long time. Outside the tent, the soldiers were making their final preparations; the sounds of horses neighing, weapons clashing, and hushed conversations mingled together.
This departure may truly be a one-way trip.
But some things just have to be done by someone.
At dawn the next day, before daybreak, a thousand riders quietly left the north gate of Xuchang. Their hooves were wrapped in cloth and their jaws were bridles, and like a group of silent ghosts, they disappeared into the northern morning mist.
Ma Yongsheng, riding on his horse, glanced back.
The outline of Xuchang city is blurred in the morning light, like a dream about to end.
When I turned my head again, my gaze was fixed on the north.
That place is a den of dragons and tigers.
That place is the lifeline of civilization.