After spending most of the party’s last phase with Wu Linjie, Xia Ruyun mingled for a bit before utilizing the advantages of living in the main hotel to their fullest. Unlike the others who had to wait for a bus to shuttle them back, she could just retreat upstairs and return to her room whenever she wanted. Settled in bed after her evening hygiene routine, she perused the script and scrawled a few more notes into the already crowded margins.
Sleep came before she knew it though. Taken into the night’s sweet embrace, she laid still as the sound of her breaths filled the room.
When the morning’s sunbeams began seeping through the curtains, a blaring alarm yanked her back into the world of wakefulness. Though the alarm marked the end of her slumber, it marked the beginning of a new period in her life: a return to filming; and before she knew it, a couple months marched by on set and more than a couple years marched by on screen.
---
After escaping the village, Yang Guiying and Murong An took shelter in the nearby city’s outskirts. Even the warlord residing nearby couldn’t stop their ambitions.
On a box, Yang Guiying spoke to a ragged crowd. Tattered clothes, sunken faces, and calloused hands. From men to women to children, everyone listened as she clenched her fist. “Join me! From tonight, we’re a family. We will become a nation for a better tomorrow because the present is unbearable. How many people have you seen starve? How many people have you seen get beaten? How can you all pledge your lives to someone who doesn’t think you deserve to live?”
Talented or not, Yang Guiying and Murong An needed numbers.
Grassroots rebel groups numbered similar to grains of sand—so they blended in. Over time, though, Yang Guiying’s unique hunger, drive, and charisma allowed them to rally legions of loyal supporters. The crunch of dirt under their unified steps carried them closer and closer to their dreams. Shouting for freedom, the army raised their fists and began warring to reshape the empire.
One city fell, another annexed, another created. Expansion marked the fiery rise of Yang Guiying’s accession to warlord status. Rumors traveled the streets.
“She’s a dragon in human form...”
“She can smell an assassin from across the city!”
“When she dreams, she sees the weaknesses of her opponents!”
“Under the heavens, only she’s untouchable on the battlefield!”
Intertwined with her exploits sat Murong An, her trusted advisor who stood behind her at all times. Warlords, especially, whispered about Murong An.
“She dissects our troop movements like we’re kids playing a game.”
“I don’t understand. How does she grasp city affairs so well? I live here and I don’t get it...”
“How did she discover that?! How did she find that weakness? I swear we suppressed the information about that hole in our lines...”
Her crowning achievement, though, came in their engagement with the fifth warlord in the east.
“Another day of empty fighting...” Yang Guiying muttered as she watched Long Fei lead the soldiers back to camp. At the entrance of their hilltop camp, she stood with her hands behind her back and waited for the troops to come within earshot. “Long Fei! Meet me in the command tent.”
After confirming Long Fei got her message, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the camp. Walking through the well-worn pathways lined by tent after tent, she waved and nodded to anybody she came across until she arrived back at the command tent. She slipped through the slit between flaps and let out a long sigh before taking a seat behind her desk.
Now, she just needed to wait. She pulled out some documents and caught up on several reports from the territories they’d already conquered.
Nothing interesting. Nothing interesting. Oh... new taxes.
“Leader Yang, you called?” Long Fei knelt down after entering the tent.
“Just the usual. Any updates on the battle? Any progress?” Yang Guiying set her documents aside, massaging her eyebrows.
After waiting for a few seconds to let Yang Guiying unfurl a scroll for note-taking, Long Fei shrugged. “Not much. The usual back-and-forth hit-and-run attacks defined today’s battle. We suffered no casualties, but we only managed to inflict injuries on the opponent. Forgive me, Leader Yang, but the current state of battle can only be described as a deadlock. I’ve failed in my duty.”
“You’re fine. How are our troop numbers?” Yang Guiying asked, her eyes never leaving the scroll.
“Still abysmal. Our current battalion is too injured from the previous warlord. If we were even at 50% strength, we could dominate.”
“Hmm, yeah, but we can’t let up either...” Yang Guiying mused out loud. “Try and hold on for now. Murong An and I are planning something. If it doesn’t work out though, expect to wait another month for reinforcements to arrive from our other armies. So pace yourself to that schedule.”
“... Yes ma’am,” Long Fei grimaced, crossing his fingers and praying for Murong An’s success. He didn’t know if they could hold on for a month... but they might have to at this rate.
“You’re dismissed, thank you as always for the hard work, Long Fei,” Yang Guiying sighed as she wrapped up her writing. “I’ll try and host another small-scale banquet soon to keep morale up.”
“We’d appreciate it, but don’t force yourself, we are all still ready to fight,” Long Fei nodded his head. He understood the severe hemorrhaging the resource division was fighting against. Without anything else to say, he stood up and slipped out of the tent.
Alone once more, Yang Guiying gazed out of the tent’s window to keep herself sane. She stared across to the opposite hill. The fifth warlord of the east’s flag soared in the sky, as if taunting her. Wind blew through the trees and the grassy plains. With her face illuminated by the setting sun’s rays, she sat in silence for a couple minutes.
BANG.
Slamming her fist down onto the desk, she scowled. “Why can’t he just give up? We’d bring them prosperity anyway. Just accept the terms we offered. They’re fair, they’re just, and they think of the people!”
A few deep breaths later, she succeeded in resisting the urge to snap her quill. She needed Murong An. Ringing a bell beside her desk, she asked the summoned messenger to find her strategist and have her report to the tent.
Murong An appeared after what felt like an eternity. Gaunt from overwork, she bowed after entering the tent. Silent, she waited for Yang Guiying to gather her thoughts.
“How’s the plan?” Yang Guiying inquired while tapping her chin. Seeing a conflicted expression appear on Murong An’s face, she nodded as an understanding smile brushed by her lips. “Don’t worry, the spies sent back a few useful reports. I don’t quite know all the reports and the full situation like you do, but I think there are some pieces here and there that we can capitalize on.”
She leaned over and shuffled through some papers. As the sound of scrolls being moved aside filled the tent, she murmured “Where is it...” a few times before pushing herself back upright. In her hand were two scrolls, and after handing them over, she pulled Murong An into a half-hug. “Take care of yourself, I won’t hold you any longer, but try and get some sleep tonight.”
Nodding and returning the hug, Murong walked out of the tent with fast steps. Her hands scrawled in the air as her mind wandered back to her work.
Yang Guiying, on the other hand, sighed for a second after watching Murong An’s figure disappear. She too, though, returned to her work as the sun disappeared below the horizon.