Ning Chen saw the Third Prince and Lu Jingfu out of the camp.

Lu Jingfu wasn't too bad. He was a man of the battlefield, after all.

But the Third Prince was a delicate nobleman. How could he take something like this? He'd thrown up everything down to the bile.

Ning Chen smiled. "Thank you for coming to pay your respects, Third Prince. On behalf of the brave soldiers of the Great Xuan who died in battle, this prince thanks you."

The Third Prince was white from vomiting, his arms and legs limp.

He waved a hand weakly, a sorry sight. "You're too kind, my lord prince. It was the least I could do.

But there's something I'd like to say, if I may?"

Ning Chen smiled. "Go ahead, Third Prince."

The Third Prince said, "My lord prince is a man of deep loyalty, and you love your soldiers like sons. You want to bring them home to rest in their native soil.

But in heat like this, if plague breaks out, it'll be a catastrophe."

Ning Chen nodded. "What you say makes a lot of sense, Third Prince. But this prince's word is worth nine bronze tripods. I said I'd bring them back, and I'll get them home no matter what."

Then Ning Chen suddenly turned mysterious. "What you may not know, Third Prince, is that these corpses have another handy use."

The Third Prince looked curious. "What use?"

Ning Chen said, "Years ago, when this prince led an army against Xiliang, there was a city gate we just couldn't break. So this prince came up with an idea: we used catapults to throw rotting corpses into the city.

Within a few days, plague was sweeping the city and people were dying in droves, and this prince won without a fight... Later, once we were inside, we burned the city to the ground.

The hundred thousand troops in that city, the hundred thousand civilians, the houses, all of it went up in flames, and of course the plague went with it.

To this day that city in Xiliang is…