I Became a Sugar Mama to an Ancient General during a Famine! - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: A Victorious Return

Luo Ge was blown apart!

Though he survived, his legs were shattered in the blast. His massive warhorse had shielded him from death, but from that day forward, Luo Ge became a cripple, never to walk again.

With their commander gravely wounded, the barbarian reinforcements lost all will to fight. Many lay dead or wounded from the explosions, retreating in disarray. Their frightened horses bolted wildly, carrying helpless soldiers deep into the grasslands. The already loose barbarian formation dissolved into complete chaos.

Chen Kui and Bian Ziping led three thousand soldiers from their ambush positions.

“Kill! Warriors, slaughter the barbarians and protect the Great Qi!”

“Ten jin of rice and five jin of flour for each head! Brothers, charge – they’re nothing but walking sacks of grain!”

The Zhan family army surged forward with overwhelming force. Heavy-armored troops wielding massive Tang Mo blades led the charge, smashing into enemy lines. Behind them, Qin’s archers provided covering fire, while the reserve troops moved in to finish off survivors. Though only three thousand strong, they fought with the fury of twenty thousand.

Zhan Chengyin stood atop the city wall, certain in his heart that this battle would end in glorious victory.

The ambush lasted until half past three in the morning. Ye Mumu had been unable to sleep, anxious about the outcome. This was the Zhan family army’s first offensive strike – defeat would crush morale, but victory would fill their troops with confidence for future guerrilla operations.

Sure enough, Chen Kui, Chen Wu, Bian Ziping, Wu Sanlang, and the others returned triumphant! The town, long oppressed by barbarian forces, desperately needed this victory to lift their spirits.

Despite the late hour, torches blazed along the city gates, turning night to day. The Civilians came out spontaneously to greet their returning heroes, offering precious water and the last of their hot porridge.

Chen Wu’s soldiers, who had claimed the most kills, were immediately surrounded by their comrades. They were hoisted high and tossed in the air repeatedly, each wave of cheers louder than the last. Joy overflowed through the streets.

The people had been suppressed for too long – they desperately needed this victory to release their pent-up fury.

Zhan Chengyin descended from the wall to meet Chen Kui, Chen Wu, Wu Sanlang, and Bian Ziping. Though exhausted and blood-covered, all wore triumphant smiles. They knelt before him, eyes brimming with tears.

“General, we did not disappoint. Victory is ours!”

Zhan Chengyin quickly raised them up. “Rise, Generals.”

Chen Kui wiped fresh blood from his face. “Damn, that was a satisfying fight!”

“General, you promised ten jin of rice and five jin of flour for each barbarian killed. Does that offer still stand?”

“Of course!” Zhan Chengyin replied.

Chen Kui emptied his blood-soaked pouch – over two hundred severed ears spilled out. In Great Qi, soldiers took the left ear of fallen enemies rather than heads, which would rot in the heat.

He roared with laughter, “Two thousand jin of rice, a thousand jin of flour… This general will feast well!”

Zhan Chengyin ordered Tian Qin: “Open the granaries! Distribute the rewards!”

At these words, the victorious soldiers rushed to form lines at the granary. As the great doors swung wide, torchlight revealed mountains of grain stacked neatly inside.

The sight struck everyone silent – soldiers and civilians alike stood amazed. Here was enough food to feed not just the army but the entire town for half a year!

Finally, Zhen Guan’s days of hunger were ending!

The townspeople, who had survived on thin gruel, rejoiced even more than the soldiers. No one would starve now. The porridge from the general’s mansion was thick enough to stand chopsticks in, enriched with meat, vegetables, salt, and oil. Recently they’d even received watermelon twice the size of before – such abundance they hadn’t known even before the siege.

Now, with the Zhan family army’s victory, it felt like even better days were beckoning them.

Tears flowed freely among the crowd.

Soldiers who hadn’t joined the battle, including new recruits, burned to prove themselves in combat. One dead barbarian meant ten jin of rice and five jin of flour – enough to feed a family for a month, or longer if they were frugal. How could they not yearn for battle?

The new recruits especially, who had enlisted for mere monthly rations of five jin of rice and one jin of flour, now saw a chance at real prosperity.

“Deputy General Chen Kui, for two hundred and thirty enemy kills: two thousand three hundred jin of rice and twelve hundred jin of flour.”

Chen Kui’s entire household – officers, guards, and servants – received a combined five thousand jin of rice and over two thousand jin of flour. They jubilantly carried sack after sack home, enough to feed everyone for over a year.

In one battle, Chen Kui had become wealthy.

Those who hadn’t fought watched enviously. His brother Chen Wu had somehow managed to kill three hundred enemies without exhaustion, earning even more: six thousand jin of rice and three thousand jin of flour. His entire household came to help transport the fortune home.

Wu Sanlang received over three thousand jin of grain. As servants carried it back, his young son asked in an innocent voice, “Father, does this mean you and Mother won’t be hungry anymore?”

Wu Sanlang choked with emotion. “Yes, my son. You’ll never know hunger again.”

Bian Ziping also claimed over three thousand jin, calling soldiers to help transport it to camp.

This victory did more than raise spirits – it gave every soldier burning motivation to join future battles, not just for glory but for survival itself.

The final count was staggering: Of fifty thousand barbarians in the south, ten thousand died in explosions, two thousand were trampled by panicked horses, and three thousand fell to guerrilla attacks – fifteen thousand dead in total.

The north suffered even worse. Luo Ge, rushing to reinforce with thirty thousand men, led them straight into the heaviest concentration of explosives. Eight thousand died instantly, countless more were wounded, and Luo Ge himself was crippled when his horse was blown over.

His men retreated in chaos, leaving the north undefended. Chen Wu, bolder than his brother, sent another ten thousand troops charging out the city gates. They pursued the fleeing barbarians with their Mo blades, adding to the carnage of explosions and trampling horses. Twenty-five thousand barbarians died in the north.

One guerrilla strike had claimed forty thousand enemy lives, while the Zhan family army lost only a few hundred, mostly poorly-equipped soldiers lacking the heavy armor of the front lines.

Zhan Chengyin and his generals celebrated their incredible achievement. They had destroyed a vastly superior force, inflicting forty thousand casualties – a victory they’d never dared dream possible against such odds. This battle didn’t just restore their troops’ confidence; it proved they could strike devastating blows even while under siege.

After securing their rewards, Chen Kui and the other deputy generals returned to the command post on the wall. Zhan Chengyin ordered out the remaining wine and had the cooks prepare dishes for a victory feast.

Chen Wu, face still bloody, downed a bottle of beer in triumph.

“What joy! Three hundred kills – three hundred! Never have I known such satisfaction!”