Ninety.

“Y-Yes, I’ll dismantle that tent right away!” The nearby lieutenant covered his mouth and hurried to tear down the tent that had caused him to be slapped.

But misfortune was yet to come. Just as he was about to act, Meiqian suddenly slapped him across the face again. “Are you stupid? You want to tear down a tent we painstakingly set up?”

“Ahhh!” The lieutenant was completely dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

“Leave that tent as it is,” Meiqian instructed his men. Then he turned to a smaller tent nearby. “I’ll stay there. Put the command flag on that tent.” He tossed the flag to his men, who planted it firmly atop the lavish tent.

This served as a marker, shielding Meiqian’s presence—a double-layered safeguard. If no main tent was established, the enemy might hunt them down one by one. But with a main tent, it would draw enemy fire, keeping Meiqian safer.

Meiqian approached the small tent, removed his armor, and placed it within easy reach. His battle knife remained strapped on, just in case.

After slapping the lieutenant twice, Meiqian felt more at ease and gradually calmed down. Today he had truly been insulted—there was no denying his anger—but he held back, cautious and prudent.

Now calm, Meiqian sensed something amiss. During the day, he had assumed the city of Jiangting was bait, luring him out to battle, with many soldiers waiting inside, as evidenced by the flags on the walls.

But now, he thought differently. If Jiangting truly had strength, why hide inside? They’d probably be avoiding him. Fighting in the open field, his bandit troops wouldn’t stand a chance against Li Miao’s former regular army.

“Great King, I’m back! I’ve returned!” A commotion outside the tent interrupted Meiqian’s thoughts.

He looked up to see his scout, Dongfang Ming.

“How is it?” Meiqian asked. When suspicion arose, he had sent Dongfang Ming to spy around Jiangting.

“Great King, there are hardly any troops in Jiangting—only about a hundred in total,” Dongfang Ming reported.

“What about those troops parading flags earlier?” Meiqian asked, puzzled. Even a small city would need guards at night; what if the enemy launched a nocturnal attack?

“They’re all scarecrows!” Dongfang Ming said dismissively.

“Scarecrows?” Meiqian repeated, confused.

“Yes, Great King. I even brought one from under the city!” Dongfang Ming proudly displayed a straw effigy before Meiqian.

Seeing these scarecrows, Meiqian gritted his teeth with fury. “Well done, Huang Yi, I really underestimated you—daring to deceive me, Meiqian!” His anger surged. Today he’d been cursed by Huang Yi to an unimaginable degree.

Meiqian had endured from start to finish, wary of Huang Yi’s cunning, fearing being outsmarted. But now he realized Huang Yi was just bluffing.

“Brother, why get angry? Tomorrow, give me a hundred men. I’ll storm the city and cut off Huang Yi’s head to make a chamber pot of it!” Dongfang Ming and others pledged their loyalty. Jiangting’s sparse guards and scarecrows made it a soft target.

“We’ll discuss tomorrow’s attack later,” Meiqian waved his hand, still annoyed. He had been insulted and mocked and thought the flags were a ruse, only to find out it was empty bluff. His desire for revenge against Huang Yi thickened; tomorrow, he vowed to be the first to storm the walls.

He would personally lead his Mount Song bandits into Jiangting, seize Huang Yi’s head, and lift the weight from his heart.

The lieutenants left, and Meiqian looked with disdain at the military treatise on the table. Rarely did he skip his nighttime study sessions.

The next day passed swiftly. Meiqian hadn’t slept a wink, replaying how he exposed Huang Yi’s trick and relishing the thought of storming Jiangting, taking Huang Yi’s head, and using it as a chamber pot.

Excited, enraged, and anticipating tomorrow, Meiqian bore deep dark circles under his eyes.

“Master!” Outside the tent, servants had prepared his washbasin and other necessities.

Meiqian nodded and took his seat.

“Order the army not to cook meals,” Meiqian commanded.

“Not cook?” The lieutenant was stunned. How could one fight without eating? They would need strength.

“At first light, we attack. Do you want to cook outside or join me in plundering the city and eating ready food?” Meiqian asked the captains.

“Of course, we’ll eat ready food with the master!” The bandits cheered; who wouldn’t choose the easier option?

Amid the cheers, a lieutenant stepped forward, frowning. “Master, though Jiangting is small, yesterday we saw thousands of soldiers inside. Taking the city won’t be quick. Without cooking, our strength will dwindle.”

“Yes,” others agreed. The city, though modest, displayed banners as if mustered with a thousand men. The defenders and walls would not fall easily, and hunger would sap their combat power.

Meiqian looked closely at the dissenting lieutenant, not angry but pleased.

He then gazed at Jiangting with surprise. The white flags fluttered high, and the city gates stood wide open—no need for an assault; they could just walk in.

“They’ve surrendered!” The Mount Song bandits cheered. Who liked war? It meant death. Now the enemy had yielded, opening gates—the victory was served.

But Meiqian frowned, cautioning his army to hold steady.

“Wait!” A familiar voice rang from the city wall.

“Great King, that’s the brat who insulted your mother yesterday!” a sharp-eyed lieutenant informed Meiqian.

“Hmph!” Meiqian’s face darkened. If it were any other time, he’d have slapped the boy without hesitation.

But now his attention was caught by the insolent youth atop the walls—Huang Yi.

Huang Yi had successfully drawn the attention of the minor boss, Meiqian.

Meiqian made no move but waved to a subordinate. Dongfang Ming immediately approached.

“Huang Yi, your trick has been seen through by our Great King. You think scarecrows can fool me? Don’t dream on. You’d better surrender now, or await our destruction of Jiangting—no one will be spared!” Dongfang Ming taunted from below.

It was Dongfang Ming’s keen insight that uncovered Jiangting’s emptiness. Capturing the city would bring him rewards, so he strutted proudly at its foot.

“Indeed, Great King Meiqian, your wisdom pierced through our ploy like a gem discerned at a glance. I, your humble servant, am forever in awe,” Huang Yi sneered mockingly from the wall, nearly vomiting his sycophantic lines. Even Yang Hong beside him watched with a strange expression.

“Ah, the waves of the Yangtze push forward the old,” Yang Hong muttered, feeling inferior.

“Brother Miao, can you stop reading that?” Huang Yi grimaced at Li Miao, the young lord next to him.

Though brazen, Huang Yi was embarrassed by the text, which was clearly written to flatter.

“No reading? I have plan B!” Li Miao smiled at his prospective brother-in-law.

“Plan B?” Huang Yi didn’t know what that meant but sensed his lord had a backup.

“Simple,” Li Miao said calmly, “You go down and hand over the imperial jade seal made by Minister Yang to Meiqian.”

“Ah, such exquisite prose and dazzling words! A fine passage!” Huang Yi cleared his throat and resumed reading.

“Like the endless flow of the Yangtze, like the floodwaters of the Yellow River, your words are worth more than ten years of study. Among past and present heroes, none surpass you! To meet you here is my life’s honor; I shall return home to worship my ancestors for your blessings!” Huang Yi’s cheeks thickened with shamelessness, growing bolder with each sentence.

Li Miao nodded in approval. This soon-to-be brother-in-law truly was a kindred spirit.

Clearing his throat, Li Miao straightened, saying, “We are men of principle and flexibility.”

“Great King, what is this?” The Mount Song bandits below were dumbfounded. Compared to imperial soldiers, they were just coarse thieves. This was the first time they’d seen such elaborate flattery—far beyond their grasp.

Dongfang Ming, however, looked up admiringly at Huang Yi. “Master,” he thought, “If I had half his skill, I’d be the second in command here.”

Everyone was stunned. Even Meiqian’s typically stern face flushed red. He’d been insulted many times before—he was a bandit, after all—but never praised like this. His grim expression twitched, tinged with embarrassment.

Yet Meiqian didn’t understand this “Zhuge” fellow—famous in legend. He considered himself cultured but had never heard of this Zhuge.

“Do you know this Zhuge?” Meiqian asked his lieutenants.

They all shook their heads. Meiqian scoffed and tapped his forehead—how foolish to discuss literature with these uneducated men.

“Find me a book written by this Zhuge when we return,” he decided, eager to study.

“Master, shall we still attack Jiangting?” someone reminded him.

“Attack? Of course!” Meiqian was here for the supplies and the imperial jade seal. Could any man resist seeing a naked beauty before him?

“Yes! Brothers, prepare to storm the city!” the lieutenant ordered, ready to lead the troops.

This move shocked Li Miao and his companions atop the wall. The plan wasn’t supposed to unfold like this; they had meant an empty city trick. The gates were wide open, practically inviting them in.

Fortunately, Meiqian did not disappoint. “Hold!” he commanded, raising a hand. “Let’s wait and see.”

“Master, now’s the moment of opportunity!” someone urged him.

“You don’t understand! All’s fair in war!” Meiqian said sternly, unwilling to admit he was somewhat addicted to Huang Yi’s flattery.

“Quickly, push those scarecrows down!” Li Miao ordered Chen Dao’s men. The Mount Song bandits had severely unnerved him; if they truly attacked, it would be disastrous.