Chapter Eighty-Six: Awkwardness

Luo Shixin ignored Li Shimin entirely and walked straight toward Chen Ying, while Zhang Huaiwei stepped forward with his blade to block his path. Luo Shixin, bold and confident in his skills, didn’t even glance at Zhang Huaiwei’s drawn weapon. Instead, he addressed Wei Zheng, “Master, have you settled things with Brother Chen?”

“It’s settled,” Wei Zheng replied after a brief hesitation.

Chen Ying spread his hands and said to Li Xiuning, “See? I told you it was all a misunderstanding!”

Li Xiuning’s gaze was sharp as lightning as she slowly turned to Wei Zheng. “What is going on here?”

“I’ll explain everything to you in a moment,” Wei Zheng replied.

At that moment, Chen Ying himself felt overwhelmed and unsure how to resolve the situation. Not only had Li Xiuning arrived with her personal guards, but even Li Jiancheng and Li Shimin had come with their own retinues. The most unexpected presence was Kan Ling, whose sudden appearance made the situation even stranger.

“Your humble servant greets the Crown Prince. Forgive me for not coming out to welcome you,” Chen Ying said to Li Jiancheng.

Li Jiancheng was in excellent spirits, now realizing it had all been a false alarm. Most importantly, Luo Shixin had completely disregarded Li Shimin’s overtures, which pleased Li Jiancheng immensely.

Seeing the rapport between Luo Shixin—a formidable general—and Chen Ying, Li Jiancheng thought that if he could recruit Luo Shixin to the Eastern Palace, it would be like adding wings to a tiger.

Chen Ying then saluted Li Shimin, who nodded noncommittally in response.

In truth, Li Shimin’s mind was still replaying the recent sparring match between Luo Shixin and Kan Ling. Both were masters, and as he mentally reviewed the military talent at the Prince of Qin’s residence, he realized that Lei Yongji likely wouldn’t withstand even three moves from Luo Shixin. Duan Zhixuan would probably lose his spear in ten moves, and Hou Junji, whose skills were on par with Duan Zhixuan, wouldn’t fare much better.

It seemed that among all the generals under the Prince of Qin, none could stand shoulder to shoulder with Luo Shixin or Kan Ling. He must win both men over to his side.

Seeing Li Shimin’s cold demeanor, Chen Ying was puzzled but unfazed. He was not the type to curry favor with someone who showed him indifference, not even if that someone was the future Heavenly Khan, Li Shimin.

Turning to the soldiers of the Xun Guard, Chen Ying put on a stern face. “Do you realize your offense?”

Duan Zhigan replied nonchalantly, “I’ve already requested leave.”

“I’ve also requested leave.”

“So have I.”

“We all took leave!”

…

Chen Ying breathed a sigh of relief at these words. So long as it was not a case of private deployment of troops, there was room for reconciliation. Suddenly, he noticed Zhang Shigui in the crowd quietly removing his bowstring, clearly preparing to slip away unnoticed. Chen Ying’s face darkened as he shouted, “Zhang Shigui!”

In popular novels, Zhang Shigui was often cast as a great villain, and in reality, he was indeed rather sly. During Luo Shixin’s duel with Kan Ling, Zhang Shigui had several times wanted to shoot an arrow. Given his skill, Luo Shixin would have found it hard to dodge.

“Did you also request leave?” Chen Ying asked.

“I did,” Zhang Shigui replied.

Chen Ying said coldly, “You all seem quite energetic. All of you, assemble! About face!”

The officers and soldiers of the Xun Guard instinctively straightened up at the command, then turned in perfect unison. The motion was as fluid as flowing water; to see a thousand men move as one left the assembled generals deeply impressed.

Wei Zheng was astounded. No wonder the Tang Dynasty had achieved such glory—with troops like these, even the elite Xiaoguo Army of the late Sui Dynasty might not compare.

Li Shimin snapped out of his reverie and looked at the soldiers of the Xun Guard in the courtyard. A glimmer of admiration flashed in his eyes.

“A force like this truly deserves to be called elite.”

A force that could act as one, move as one, and respond to commands as if it were a single body—once unleashed on the battlefield, this was a true trump card.

Neither the Eastern Palace’s guards nor the Prince of Qin’s officers could deny that, at least for their own retinues, such precision was unattainable. A force capable of such discipline could not possibly lack fighting power.

Chen Ying paid no attention to the reactions around him and shouted, “Head to the barracks! Double time!”

Duan Zhigan, Zhang Huaiwei, Zhang Shigui, and the rest immediately led their squads, jogging off in perfect formation. While it was rare in this era for troops to maintain such order while marching, it was not unheard of. The elite Palace Guards and Imperial Guards could maintain straight lines while standing or marching in formation.

But during a run, discipline usually collapsed. On the battlefield, it was common to see troops start off in formation, but within a few hundred steps, order would break down, necessitating a halt to regroup.

Yet the Xun Guard showed no sign of faltering. Five men per row, legs rising and falling in perfect synchrony, they ran as if they were a single being. The scene astonished everyone present.

Li Jiancheng, in particular, recalled the words of Zheng Guanyin: “You must not allow the Prince of Qin to have the advantage.”

As Crown Prince, Li Jiancheng was most concerned about the safety of the dynasty. He had worried that if the Turks suddenly attacked, the youthful Chen Ying might not be able to handle the crisis. But after witnessing the Xun Guard’s performance, he felt reassured.

So long as the dynasty’s safety was not compromised, Li Jiancheng would not mind tripping up the Prince of Qin.

Li Jiancheng was a hero, but his father, Li Yuan, was a schemer, and his younger brother, Li Shimin, was a true strategist. That was Li Jiancheng’s tragedy: he had a shameless father and an even more shameless brother.

A hero values his reputation; a schemer begins to disregard it, and a true strategist cares nothing for it at all.

Just then, an untimely voice sounded: “General Chen, you truly have the soldiers’ hearts. To have the entire army disregard military discipline at your word—such prestige, perhaps even Sun Wu could not compare.”

Chen Ying looked toward the voice and saw a slightly plump young man standing close by Li Shimin. Only one person could stand so near to Li Shimin: Li Shimin’s brother-in-law, Zhangsun Wuji.

Chen Ying guessed correctly, but no matter how he racked his brains, he could not figure out how he had offended Zhangsun Wuji.

Such an accusation was a heavy one—one dreaded by all officials. Throughout history, countless heroes had perished under just such a nebulous charge.

Chen Ying was about to retort when Li Jiancheng interjected, “For a general to win the hearts of the troops, and for a minister to win the people’s favor—these are but their duties. If a Tang general cannot fight in battle above, nor comfort his soldiers below, what use is such a general? Erlang, you know the art of war—don’t you agree?”

Li Shimin didn’t know what had gotten into Zhangsun Wuji to act so out of line at such a moment. Such words were deeply offensive. Chen Ying was not only a general of the Eastern Palace, but also close to Li Xiuning. Li Shimin knew Li Xiuning well, and she was now glaring fiercely—not at Zhangsun Wuji, but at the man behind him, Chai Shao.

Zhangsun Wuji’s sudden provocation of Chen Ying seemed to have found its source. At this moment, Li Xiuning’s contempt for Chai Shao only deepened. She didn’t even care to give him a glance.

The atmosphere in the front hall had grown awkward.

If Chai Shao knew Li Xiuning had misunderstood him, he would likely be beside himself with grief. Though he did resent Chen Ying—especially that annoyingly handsome face—he had never had the chance to slander Chen Ying to Li Shimin or Zhangsun Wuji. In fact, though Chen Ying was a mere general, Chai Shao, as a third rank Grand Master of Ceremonies, far outranked him.

It was like comparing a provincial-level official to a regimental colonel.

In Chai Shao’s eyes, Chen Ying was simply beneath notice. If he ever intended to deal with him, he would never stoop to using others—not out of inability, but out of disdain.

The situation had grown decidedly awkward.