Kill me, General
Page 1
Suddenly, Danying laughed. “Useless? Who dares call my son useless? A general who won half the kingdom for his father—useless? I’d kill anyone who says that.” Her eerie laughter echoed in the empty room, dragging me back to that palace feast years ago, where he’d laughed the same way.
“But you shouldn’t have disobeyed me,” he snapped, his laughter vanishing as he glared at Chendong, eyes bulging. “Didn’t I say? Kill every Nan Gu person you find! Only then will they fear us!”
“I told you before,” Chendong argued urgently. “First, Nan Gu isn’t one of our tribes—you can’t kill them all. Second, their wealth comes from farming, craftsmanship, and culture… Killing won’t give us that. Slaughter only breeds stronger resistance. I lost 100,000 troops attacking Linbei, but I took Linan without losing a single soldier. If it means fewer of our warriors die, why not spare some Nan Gu lives?”
The Northern King tilted his head. “What’s your name?”
I looked up, startled—he was staring at me.
“This servant… is Zhou Xiaoxi.”
Page 2
“Look up.”
He watched me, expression unreadable. My heart pounded like it might stop.
I’d seen him once at a palace feast when I was nine—a pampered, chubby princess. Now I was sixteen, ragged and thin. Even if he had perfect memory, he’d never connect this broken girl to a princess. My brother had faked our deaths; to the world, Princess Yellow River and Crown Prince Xia Zhen were long dead.
But what if…?
He gave me a greedy smile. “In forty years, I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful.”
Chendong stepped silently between us. Danying kept staring, murmuring, “How does she sound when… you know…?”
“Your Majesty!” Chendong cut in. “The troops are exhausted. I’ll take them to rest.”
“Wait!” Danying said. “There’s a feast tonight. An important guest is coming—you must attend.” His eyes slid back to me. “Xiaoxi too.”
Page 3
As I helped assign soldiers to houses, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Danying’s leering gaze clung to my mind like a snake. I’d thought I was past fear, but terror was carved into my bones.
Chendong kept marking the roster, not looking at me. But under the table, his warm hand closed over my icy one. His touch calmed my trembling.
By dusk, we’d settled all the soldiers. I closed the door. “It’s almost time for the feast. Let me help you prepare—”
He grabbed my wrist, pinned me against the door. His breath mixed with mine.
“The king wants you,” he whispered. “Will you go to him?”
Tears welled. Deep fear choked my voice. “I’m your woman. You promised… you can’t break your word—”
He kissed me fiercely, stealing my breath. “You. Are. Mine.” His voice was rough, urgent. “You’ll never fear anyone again. Understand?”
The door rattled behind me. I bit my lip, silencing cries—half from shame, half from overwhelming sensation.
“Say it!“
Page 4
He thrust hard. I sobbed, “I’m yours… I’m yours…”
He tore my collar, biting the scar on my shoulder. “When we return north, I’ll lock you away. No one sees you but me. You’ll spend your days giving me children!”
Afterward, my panic had faded. I even picked southern-style robes for him. Tall and strong, he looked oddly elegant in the light fabric, almost boyishly handsome.
“Why are you staring?” he asked.
“You look handsome in white… younger.”
“I’m not old,” he grumbled. “Nineteen.”
I froze. “Nineteen?”
Northerners aged quickly from sun and wind. I’d guessed under thirty, but nineteen?
“I led troops at thirteen,” he said. “Our men grow up fast. Some are fathers by sixteen.”
“So why haven’t you…?” I stifled a laugh.
“You’re mocking me? I’ll lock you up!” He playfully pushed me onto the bed, biting my shoulder again.
Page 5
That spot wasn’t sensitive, but he’d bitten it so often during intimacy that it made my heart flutter. I squirmed. “General, stop!”
“My grandmother said bedding women shortens your life. That’s why the king’s health is ruined,” he mumbled into my skin.
I laughed. “Then you should stay away from me.”
“No,” he growled, biting harder. “I’d shorten my life for you.”
The feast mimicked southern customs. The king sat facing south; others ranked by status. Mostly northerners, but some southerners too.
Chendong sat second from the king’s left. I knelt behind him. In the first seat sat an old southern monk—skinny, hunched, ignoring the noise and dancing.
Who outranks Chendong? I wondered, serving him food.
A strange cry cut the air. Guards dragged in a massive white stag, bound and struggling.
Southerners revered white stags as mountain spirits. Even I, who didn’t believe, felt a chill. It was horse-sized, with snow-white fur, antlers like tree branches, and intelligent eyes full of tears.
Page 6
“Such a treasure here,” Danying mused.
“A gift from heaven for your conquest, Your Majesty,” a hunter bowed.
“Open it,” Danying ordered.
Before I understood, a blade slashed the stag’s throat. Dark blood gushed into a bowl, offered to Danying.
Northerners drank it eagerly. Southerners cowered. The old monk showed no reaction.
Danying licked his lips. “Enjoy yourselves tonight!”
The dance was poorly performed, likely by local girls forced to perform. A drunken northern general grabbed the lead dancer, threw her onto a table, and began violating her.
The other girls kept dancing, faces more hopeless than the dying stag’s. Soldiers yanked girls down, shouting in their tongue: “Stag blood! Southern lambs! Feels good!”
Page 7
I watched, unflinching. The girls’ bloody tears dripped into my soul.
Danying’s eyes found us. “My son has such a beauty beside him. Why isn’t he joining the fun?”
Amid the depravity, Chendong pulled me onto his lap. “She’s carrying my child. That would harm the baby.”
I stared. It was a lie. Why?
Danying smirked. “My son is bold! A father before his Spring Festival!” He eyed me. “You don’t know the Spring Festival? Our three-day holiday where men seize women they desire, and… well, you’d be in danger then!”
Spring… three days… My fists clenched. Don’t say it. Please.
“My most memorable Spring Festival was in Nan Xiao,” Danying chuckled. “To get our troops, King Xizhao let me bed his empress. My first southern woman… so tender.”
My mask shattered. Rage surged—I wanted to carve his fat, ugly face. Chendong felt me tremble. “What’s wrong?”
Page 8
“That Yellow River princess looked like a goddess,” Danying mused. “Too young, though. Planned to take her next time—”
Crash! A bowl shattered.
The old monk sat motionless. A dancer knelt before him, shattered bowl at her feet.
“What happened?” Danying demanded.
“The southern slave refuses to drink!” a general spat.
Danying walked to the monk. Silence fell.
“Why refuse?” Danying asked softly. “Three days without food. Is northern fare beneath you?”
“I am a monk.”
The monk spoke flatly, as if Danying were a rock.
Danying laughed—a chilling sound. “Your guest,” he told Chendong, eyes on the monk. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt him. I just love watching holy men drink blood.”
Page 9
He gestured. Another dancer offered blood. The monk ignored it, numb like my brother before he died.
Danying slashed. The dancer fell dead, blood spraying the monk’s face.
He flinched, looking at Danying.
“Drink?”
Another dancer sobbed, shoving the bowl at him. “Please, sir…”
The monk stared blankly.
Another slash. The girl fell—a farmer’s daughter, no older than seventeen.
The monk’s lips trembled. Two deaths had shattered his numbness.
“Again!” Danying grinned.
Page 10
Before another girl could take the bowl, I stood. “Your Majesty! Southern dancers perform before serving. Let me dance for the master!”
Chendong grabbed for me. I dodged, staring at Danying. “Give me a sword.”
He laughed. “Do it!”
The sword was light and sharp. I spun it, singing in the southern tongue:
“The old general returns at night, Unhitching his horse at the pavilion…”
I’d learned swordplay for elegance, not combat. Southern royals believed “the sword is the king’s instrument.” My brother and I learned flashy, useless moves—like our doomed kingdom.
But now… so close.
“Who ventures through mulberry fields, To the southern hills?”
The blade grazed Danying’s throat. I looked up, seeing my grandfather’s sad eyes in the sky.
Survive, Yellow River.
“When heroes achieve glory, Why must they fade? Beyond the window—cold wind and rain.”
Page 11
I stopped the sword an inch from the monk’s neck. “Serve the master,” I told a dancer.
He looked at me, a tear tracing his thin cheek.
He recognized me.
And I recognized him.
Once General He Sulong—Nan Gu’s war god, conqueror of Linan, later traitor… now a monk.
We’d met countless times when he was a proud general and I a lofty princess. Now we met in the dirt.
He took the bowl, drank the blood, then snatched bloody meat, swallowing until he gagged.
Danying clapped, laughing. Northerners joined, thinking him mad. I laughed too. This traitor, this broken general, was telling me:
Princess, this old general still fights!
Page 12
The feast raged on—a wild mix of northerners and southerners. A surrendered southern officer laughed and cried.
Chendong ignored me all night, rigid as a sheathed sword. I drank until I felt light—a kite floating over a lost palace.
Walking back, stars glittered like diamonds.
“Who is he?” Chendong asked, steadying me over a puddle.
“Who?”
“The one behind the fire plot,” he said calmly. “He made Helan Zhiyan obey, controlled spies in our camp, freed prisoners, burned supplies, killed my guards, and humiliated me… and I missed him. Because he was only six.”
The lie was ending. I felt calm. “I don’t understand.”
“Royal blood.”
I stayed silent.
“Only royalty commands Nan Gu’s remnants. The crown prince, Xia Zhen—sealed as heir before birth. Where is he?”
He lifted my chin. “Where?”
I stared at the cold stars.
“Kill me, General,” I whispered.
Page 13
Of all I’d said to him, only this was true.
He’d guessed from the monk’s look. But even now, he wouldn’t ask Who are you?
If he asked, I’d answer. And die.
Let me die as Xiaoxi—the girl he loved at nineteen. Not Yellow River, who’d lied all along.
“You’ll die bearing my children, as my queen. At eighty, in my coffin—then you may die,” he said. “But not now.”
Torchlight flared. Guards seized me. “Apologies, madam.”
Page 14
They tortured me for three days. Pain made me vomit, then choke. My lips bled; breathing hurt.
Chendong visited daily. “Where is Xia Zhen?”
His coldness revealed the politician beneath.
On the third day, near death, his kind lieutenant pleaded: “The general’s had migraines for days! He’s your husband. Who’s closer? Tell him! Then live peacefully.”
I lay like a rag, whispering: “No…”
“Hang her on the city wall,” Chendong ordered. “Let’s see if loyal Nan Gu saves her!”
At dawn, I was bound at the gate. Announcements said I’d die at midnight.
The torture hadn’t broken me—I’d held on for royal pride. But now I feared he’d come.
Xia Zhen—Nan Gu’s last hope. My last family.
Page 15
Sunlight burned. I begged aloud—for Chendong? For anyone? He never came. Finally, I prayed silently:
Helan Zhiyan, don’t let him come.
Dehydration brought visions: southern palaces… my grandfather… a woman in palace robes turning at sunset—beautiful, eyes full of tears.
“Yellow River, I’m sorry you must live alone in this world.”
My mother? Or Zhiqiu?
I woke to red sunset. Good weather tomorrow.
Xia Zhen arrived then.
In white robes, a red dot on his forehead like a tiny Buddha.
I’d imagined him attacking with soldiers—hopeless against northern guards.
But he came alone.
Page 16
I stared until he smiled softly. “Few loyalists remain. I must survive for you, Aunt. So I came alone.”
To die.
“How… did they let you pass?” My voice scraped raw.
Soldiers circled, wary of ambush.
Xia Zhen leaned close. “I told them who I am.”
He knew. All along, in a palace that hated northerners, he’d known his blood was “dirty”—his father’s shame, his mother’s despair. Yet he’d grown gentle.
My heart ached.
Chendong descended the wall. “You actually came.”
“I came for my aunt.”
Page 17
One in black armor, smelling of blood and iron. One in white linen, clean as the evening breeze.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”
Xia Zhen smiled. “You must kill me. If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”
Temple bells echoed in the mountains. Xia Zhen gazed afar. “If Buddha hears, I’ll trade all my futures to become moonlight and breeze beside my aunt… so she’s never afraid in the dark.”
As the last bell faded, Chendong’s blade pierced Xia Zhen’s small body.
The blood on my face was cold.
I watched him dragged away. Chendong freed my chains. Sunset faded to bedroom ceiling. Night spilled like ink.
Wind carried scents of blood, iron, fire—northern smells. Southern fragrances—books, incense, perfume—were gone. And now, they’d taken my last family.
Maids bathed, medicated, and dressed me in northern white robes. I stood at Chendong’s door—a clean gift.
Page 18
He worked by lamplight. Finally, he saw me.
“Come.”
Numb, I went. He pulled me onto his lap.
“The crown prince is dead. It’s over.”
No remorse. “We’ll make Shucheng the northern capital. When spring comes, we’ll wed.”
I stared, seeing a monster. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hate you?”
“Why?” He frowned, genuinely puzzled. “Victors slaughter the defeated. I spared you.”
In the lamplight, his brown eyes looked clear—innocent and cruel, like a hunting wolf’s.
I wanted to laugh. What had I expected? Wolves hunt; fires burn. Killing defeated royals is natural.
But…
Page 19
He softened his voice. “Does it still hurt? They were careful—no scars.”
He scowled. “If you’d obeyed…”
He held me tighter. Soon, his breath roughened. In the dim light, it felt like a dream. He kissed me roughly, carried me to bed. I stared blankly.
“Nothing can part us now,” he murmured. “I should be working, but I can’t think.”
He seemed… happy. A boyish, giddy happiness.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
When he kissed me again, I vomited—black clots of blood.
Chendong panicked. “What’s wrong?”
I wiped my mouth. “Don’t touch me. You sicken me.”
He looked stunned. Of course—he’d never known me. Zhou Xiaoxi, the porcelain merchant’s gentle daughter, never existed.
Page 20
“Why won’t you ask who I am?” I grinned like a bloody ghost.
“Silence!” His face darkened.
I felt perverse joy.
“My name is Xihe! Ancient texts say Yao commanded Xihe to rule seasons and skies! My grandfather, Emperor Xiaozhang Chengren, named me after a goddess—honoring me as heir equal to a prince! My father, Emperor Shoulie, conquered three provinces! Died in battle killing a million northern dogs! My brother, Emperor Dunren Jingyu, chose death over surrender! This is my family! My bloodline!”
Guards rushed in. Fearless, I burned like fire: “You once asked if I’d marry you if Nan Gu survived. Now I answer: Never! Beasts like you aren’t fit to touch heaven’s children!”
He pressed his blade to my heart.
“Kill me!” I laughed. “Or I’ll repay today’s pain tenfold!”
The blade stayed until my heart froze.
“I don’t understand…” he finally said.
Under his soldiers’ stares, he dropped the sword.
“Take her away.”
Page 21
Outside Shucheng, a river froze thick in winter. Northern soldiers drilled holes, chained prisoners underwater.
They threw me in. Chains held me submerged—floating among pale corpses, southern and northern. Soldiers jeered. Chendong watched, eyes like cold stars.
Then he left.
No one survives freezing water. Numbness spread. I fought, feeling death creep in.
Xia Zhen, wait. Auntie’s coming.
I’d thought I wasn’t afraid. But slow death is terror. Each time cold shocked me awake, I regretted it.
I should’ve died killing northerners—sacrifices for my fallen kingdom.
What happened to the rebels shouting “Nan Gu lives!”?
Helan Zhiyan—sick and skeletal—does he live?
General He Sulong, swallowing blood and flesh—how is he?
What about our people? Can they survive northern cruelty? Will hope survive?
If only I had another chance…
I sank into darkness.
Page 22
Warm lips pressed air into mine. Underwater thuds followed—someone smashing chains.
I opened my eyes. White fish swam toward me like spirits.
My chains broke.
Dream? Or ancestors sending help?
Gentle arms carried me from the water.
Sunlight stung. Food smells filled the air. A striped cat slept by my pillow, yawning when I woke.
“You’re awake!”
A sun-darkened woman in rough clothes sat by me, holding a bowl of porridge. “Hungry? Eat?”
I stared. Her face was familiar… yet not.
Page 23
A small farmhouse. Distant dogs and chickens. I wore a clean flower-patterned coat.
She studied me. “So pretty… skin like milk. No wonder northern men wanted you. I’d want you too.”
She fed me warm peanut-rice porridge. Strength returned.
“You saved me?”
“We did!”
“Who are you?”
“Deng Xin’er. A farmer till northern soldiers took me.” She scowled. “Animals! Like they’d never seen women!”
I frowned, confused.
She wiped my mouth gently. “I owe you. At the feast… I was the third dancer.”
I remembered the trembling girl.
“You rushed forward. If not, that northern dog-king would’ve killed me!” She chattered on: “Scary last night! I almost didn’t dare… But Hou Chun said: ‘She’s the princess. We must save her.’ So we swimmers went…”
Page 24
Warmth and the cat’s purring lulled me to sleep.
I slept many days. Vaguely, I saw girls—northern captives, I guessed—taking turns feeding me medicine. How did they hide me? How did they know I was royalty?
I woke at dusk hearing voices: “New Year’s already?”
New Year… Spring wasn’t far.
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