Ashes to Crown
Chapter 252: Daring Bravery
Chapter 252 -62: Daring Bravery
The main general froze, not having expected Mr. Liang to actually submit it.
He then saw Mr. Liang’s attendant step forward, scroll in hand.
‘If this bookworm, Mr. Liang, has the guts to hand it over, why wouldn’t I have the guts to take it?’
The main general reached out, took the scroll, and immediately unfurled it. “See? Scholars are impressive,” he said with a laugh. “You lot just run your mouths, but he can actually write it all down—”
A general leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Sir, just make sure you can understand what he’s written.”
Though they were superior and subordinates, they were brothers-in-arms who had faced death together, so their speech was often informal. The main general took no offense, just scoffed. “Pah! I’m an educated man—” He glanced at Mr. Liang. “And if there’s something I don’t understand, I’ll just ask. I’m sure Liang Ji can explain it to me.”
Laughter filled the tent once more. Mr. Liang remained in his seat, his expression neutral. He simply nodded. “I will, of course, provide an explanation.”
The main general read, still chuckling, but his smile slowly faded. The joking stopped. His gaze sharpened, and his expression grew pensive.
The other joking generals noticed the change. They quieted down and exchanged glances.
‘So, is it any good?’
A general couldn’t resist asking, “Well, sir? What does it say?”
The main general’s focus returned. His gaze swept over the men before finally settling on Mr. Liang.
“A scholar is a scholar, after all,” he said. “Who knew you could get so creative with military strategy.”
‘Was that… praise?’ The men all turned to look at Mr. Liang.
Mr. Liang remained seated, clasping his hands in a formal gesture of respect. “You flatter me, sir. This is merely theory on paper. Its success depends entirely on your ability to implement it.”
The main general gave him a long, searching look before turning back to the others and clearing his throat.
“Gentlemen, I have a new idea,” he announced, then coughed. He gestured toward Mr. Liang at the far end of the seating. “—inspired by Liang Ji. Now, listen up—”
…
…
Liang Qiang didn’t see his father again. With duties piling up, he was dispatched on another assignment right after their brief meeting in camp—to man a sentry post somewhere else.
Liang Qiang lay prone in a windswept ravine for three days. On the fourth, the troops were finally recalled to camp, which he found in a state of wild celebration.
“A great victory! A great victory!”
“Western Liang has retreated a hundred li!”
Blood-stained soldiers galloped about on horseback, raising their swords and spears in triumphant cheers.
Liang Qiang watched, his face a mask. ‘What does this great victory have to do with me?’
“Liang Qiang.” A general who usually wouldn’t give him a second glance suddenly called his name after a few soldiers whispered in his ear.
Liang Qiang looked over.
“Is Liang Ji your father?” the general asked, his expression one of surprise.
Liang Qiang’s grip on his weapon tightened, and a chill shot down his spine. Though he had yet to face the Western Liang Soldiers or achieve any merit of his own, he knew that a great victory was often forged from the flesh and blood of countless soldiers.
‘Don’t tell me Father… became a part of that price.’
“Yes,” he heard himself say, his voice raspy.
“Incredible!” the general exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “One of the battles in this great victory was won because of your father’s brilliant command! He completely turned the tables and made our army unstoppable. He’s earned a great honor!”
The chill that had gripped his spine shot straight to his head, where Liang Qiang felt a fire ignite. ‘Father… he earned merit!’
In the army, military merit was the ultimate status symbol.
Though the merit wasn’t his, everyone suddenly knew who he was. The same comrades who had previously known his name but never gave him a second look were now staring at him intently.
“I guess scholars really are a different breed. Who knew they could fight?”
The murmurs around him turned from mockery to admiration.
It would be a lie to say Liang Qiang wasn’t pleased. And yet, he didn’t feel overjoyed, either. The achievement was his father’s, not his. It was just like before, when the illustrious reputation of “Mr. Liang” came from his eldest uncle’s side of the family, not from him—something that could be taken away at any moment.
“Liang Qiang!” a general standing nearby suddenly called out. “Do you dare join my Vanguard Camp?”
Liang Qiang looked up without a moment’s hesitation. “I am.”
The general laughed heartily and turned to Liang Qiang’s main general. “Give him to us,” he said with a grin. “Let me see if he’s a chip off the old block.”
His main general laughed and waved a hand. “Take him, take him. Put him through the wringer. He might just turn out to be a fine blade.”
‘Things really were different now.’ His main general, who previously couldn’t be bothered with him and cared even less whether he was a “fine blade,” was now letting him go so generously. Liang Qiang cupped his fist in a salute. “I will not fail to meet your expectations, sir.”
This was the power of military merit. He finally had a chance to earn his own.
…
…
Late that night, Mr. Liang returned to his quarters, the faint smell of wine still clinging to him.
Although generals were forbidden to drink during wartime, this battle had dealt a heavy blow to Western Liang. As a reward, General Wei, Chu Ling, had his Deputy General personally deliver a cart of wine and meat.
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