5 Nine Years Later…(2)
Yinyue pretended to inspect her blade after General Weiyong asked the question. She needed time to think of an answer. Her wounds from yesterday's battle also bothered her with pain.
A team-unit of ten soldiers walked past them, bowed and left the area in search of loot or survivors.
Her soldiers preferred searching the enemies' corpses bodies for any valuable item instead of looking for survivors. Each unit shared the spoils they found.
She allowed them to keep most items except for an official seal or a military tally — both items of authority in the city, and sometimes the enemy state.
An official seal could be used to forge documents. Most military tallies allowed smooth passage through Gaoyang.
Yinyue knew what to look for. She retained most of her first life memories, especially the times spent as a princess consort in Gaoyang until they killed her. Those items could be used later if needed.
As for finding survivors, the imperial order was clear - leave none alive. Her soldiers knew it. She knew it. And General Weiyong still had the gall to ask.
Most survivors found now would be women, the aged or children. Most, if not all, soldiers hated killing them.
The loud crackles of the fires raging across the ruined city made her thankful. Better to hear crackling and houses collapsing than a woman's desperate pleas for mercy and the cries of a child.
General Weiyong, aged forty, served her Emperor-father. From her sources, he served more flattery than military merit on a silver platter in the recent years. Gone were his younger days of glory. Once a flowering tree, now a useless stump of nothing.
He was the Emperor's man — the one saving grace. If he wasn't, she would wring his neck with her bare hands.
Yinyue hated how the self-righteous bastard liked to give speeches about honor of not killing the defenceless with his sword, and being principled in war when instructed to rally the men.
The muscles around her mouth often cramped after meeting him. Who knew fake smiles hurt so much?
She witnessed his actions when he led their men through the fallen city gates. He left a less than a satisfactory impression on her on his definition of defenceless.
A limping old man with a bamboo pole as a walking staff didn't count as defenceless for General Weiyong.
As for 'being principled' in war, war brought no principles or honor.
Just powerful older men, including her Emperor-father, ordering the young soldiers to die for their political cause and territorial expansion. The true victims are the civilians.
She didn't expect her emperor-father to order the destruction of a city under Gaoyang's control. Including their population. The imperial edict gave her sleepless nights.
Yinyue expected her Emperor-father to tell her to scare the city into submission. Something she was more than willing to do.
Who would believe her if she told them about her expectation?
No one.
She held a nickname — the Dayan Empire's Killing God. Not God of War — that respectable title stayed reserved for men.
Her reputation stunk to the high heavens in the other cities of Dayan, especially Huangcheng. One without mercy. Ten steps, one dead.
Children in the capital city of Huangcheng would cry at the sight of her carriage. Their parents would tremble and prostrate. Other Grand Princes received bows, not prostration.
Never mind her brothers, who carried out the same actions as ordered by their Emperor-father.
The Dayan population called them heroes and her as a bloodthirsty villain.
Why?
Because she is female.
At least she hid behind her mask. Only the Imperial family, and those who served them, recognised her actual face.
She faked a faint smile at the general, masking her true thoughts.
The asshat of a general standing before her, wanted her to decide so he can push the blame on her as a ruthless killer and still stay respectable in front of the men.
The long and harsh northern winter forced Gaoyang's border city of Luoran to raid the more prosperous villages under Dayan's control for their stored crops and livestock.
She bore a grudge against Gaoyang because of her first life. That grudge vanished at the sight of the innocent civilians, adults and children, scattering in fear for their lives once her cataphracts, heavy-armored cavalry, stormed on the city's defences.
No hesitation in killing those who opposed her, but the thought of spilling innocent blood unsettled her.
Yinyue thought of the captured prisoners, including the toddlers and babies. It wasn't their fault to be born in Gaoyang during a chaotic time.
She, too, was once like them in her first life — an innocent death.
"What did my dear Emperor-father say?" She asked, breaking the long awkward silence.
Her face and tone never betrayed her emotions. A fake smile remained frozen on her face. The Shadow Pavilion trained them to control emotional expressions. Show no reaction even in the worst situations — keep them guessing her next move.
"Annihilate the border city of Luoran to teach the Gaoyang state a lesson. Leave none alive."
He recited the key points of the dreadful imperial edict and glanced at her for a decision.
If eyes were windows to a soul, Yinyue's eyes revealed a cold emptiness about them — no emotion, not even fear or anger. They felt more like a dark abyss, as though she spawned from the eighteenth level of hell.
"Follow the orders," she said.
Defying Imperial orders meant the death of his clan and him. If he tried to save an infant, he knew Yinyue or even his subordinates would not hesitate to kill him because his defiance would drag them down.
The Emperor they served tolerated no disobedience.
She took a step nearer towards him, tiptoed to pat his shoulder, and added with a whisper. "My father didn't say how they should die."
"We don't have fast acting poison…," said the General.
Oh, but she did. She expected this situation to happen.
Fast acting poison remained the most merciful way to end someone's life. If she couldn't save them, compassion had to be shown in other ways.
The men under her would balk at killing a defenceless opponent, especially women and children. They also found the other alternative, hanging women and smothering children, distasteful and cowardly.
"How many prisoners?" She asked.
"Around 102 women, 53 children, including toddlers and infants."
Damn it, she had to kill so many children and infants, a first for her. What the hell was her Emperor-father thinking?
"155 altogether then."
Yinyue calculated the amount needed in her head and flicked a finger in the air.
"I have more than enough," she said as a dark flash of black zipped past the middle-aged general.
"Eh? But—"
"01, come out," she said, cutting General Weiyong's words off.
A young man with a half-mask in blackened armour appeared at the side of Yinyue. After a curt bow to Yinyue, the newcomer's unusual pair of different coloured eyes peered above the mask at General Weiyong.
"01 here knows where I kept Qinghua. He'll be in charge," she said and started walking, with the young man trailing behind like an obedient dog. "Just add it to their food."
Qinghua wasn't the type of poison brought to battlefields. Tasteless and without smell when mixed with food, Qinghua remained the choice drug for assassinations, not for war.
A pinch of Qinghua powder could kill a tiger within seconds.
Yinyue noticed how General Weiyong grimaced at her reply.
She, too, cringed at herself and thought of how she spoke about the poison, like adding salt to a dish for taste.
But if she didn't kill them, someone else would in a worse way. Her Emperor-father never changed his mind once he issued the imperial edict.
She needed to walk away. Her stomach churned in disgust. She felt nauseated at her own words, but she needed to show ruthlessness.
Then she stopped in her steps and turned around. General Weiyong clenched his fists as though to steady himself. Damn old man thinks she was going to change her mind.
"Make sure they have a good and filling meal. Plenty of surviving livestock around," she said. "01 will come by and poison the food."
This was a veiled warning to Weiyong not to skimp on the meat for prisoners.
Better give them a good last meal to fill up before sending them to the afterlife. If those souls went hungry, the shamans say they won't enter the reincarnation cycle.
A thought popped into her head — Did she die hungry in her first life? Yinyue couldn't recall except the pain of dying in her first life wiped off any hunger pangs.
