Could you please provide the text you would like me to translate?

"Woo woo, woo woo woo!" The sound of crying grew louder and louder, and Li Miao couldn't help but shiver. Could it be a ghost? Though Li Miao hailed from the 21st century, a land of materialists, even he couldn't withstand such eerie circumstances. After all, he'd already traveled through time—what was a ghost compared to that? Regret washed over him; he wished he hadn't come looking for Yang Hong, and in his efforts to be discreet, he'd left his two personal guards behind and ventured alone onto this desolate graveyard.

Li Miao edged forward cautiously, unaware that two glowing green objects were trailing right behind him. After walking some distance, he finally noticed them. Looking down, he was puzzled—why was his shadow visible on the ground? The moon tonight was hardly bright enough to cast a shadow. Feeling the chill at his back, his skin crawled.

No way! His eyes widened as he spun around, his mouth twitching and facial muscles nearly frozen. "Ghost!" Li Miao broke into a sprint, with those two eerie green lights hot on his heels.

These things, known as phosphorescent flames, or ghost lights, typically appeared in rural graveyards during damp, rainy weather. Human bones contain phosphorus, and when phosphorus interacts with water or alkali, it produces phosphine—a gas that naturally ignites and is light enough to be carried by the wind.

Li Miao wasn't much of a scholar, but he'd heard plenty of ghost stories as a child. The elders always said ghost lights were the souls of the departed. Damn it, was he about to be frightened to death? Li Miao ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Now it was worse—the green flames chased after him, floating right behind his backside as he fled.

"There's always someone responsible for a grievance, and every debt has its master! Big brothers, grand sirs, please don't follow me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, isn't that enough? I'll even burn you paper money, if you want! Please, don't follow me—I taste terrible, really, I'm not worth eating! Mother!" Li Miao babbled desperately, hoping his silver tongue could persuade the ghost lights to spare him. But it was futile—the more he ran, the more they followed, swept along by the air currents he stirred.

In his panic, Li Miao didn't watch where he was going and stumbled, tumbling down from above. Shock added to his confusion, and he promptly fainted.

"Younger Master! Younger Master! Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" Amidst his haze, someone shook him awake. Li Miao slowly opened his eyes and looked at the person before him.

Seeing a face ugly enough to shame a demon, Li Miao suddenly threw his arms around Yang Hong and planted a kiss on him.

"Smack!"

"Family! Family!" Li Miao clung to the portly Yang Hong, shouting loudly and smearing his snot and tears all over him.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty, cough cough!" Yang Hong was nearly suffocated. He finally managed to extricate his head from Li Miao's grasp. "Your Majesty, are you alright? Why did you come here?"

Li Miao asked, puzzled.

He felt like strangling Yang Hong—if Yang Hong hadn't run off, Li Miao wouldn't have ended up alone in a graveyard at midnight. Still, he managed to speak kindly to this loyal dog of the Li family.

"Haha, Your Majesty, you're mistaken!" Yang Hong smiled and shook his head. Though he had left in anger, it wasn't out of resentment toward Li Miao—it was to give Li Miao an out.

Half the reason for Li Shu's death lay with Chen Lan and Lei Bo. If Yang Hong had agreed without hesitation and no one voiced opposition in the hall, what would people think? Would he forget his father's vengeance so easily? Only by leaving in fury could Li Miao respond, showing his helplessness—he acted for the survival of all. Thus, Li Miao's image became tragic, and his subordinates felt that if their lord was humiliated, they should die for him, making them even more loyal. As for borrowing from Chen Lan and Lei Bo and never returning, Yang Hong had foreseen it all.

Alright, Li Miao realized he hadn't seen through these two old foxes at all; most likely, when Li Yin suggested borrowing from Chen Lan and Lei Bo, Yang Hong was involved.

Li Miao had been played by two old foxes, who'd clearly conspired beforehand—one played the stern role, the other the gentle—and settled the matter of borrowing grain before Li Miao even understood.

Li Yin, formerly intent on heading north, showed no interest in securing supplies, even once using the lack of provisions to threaten Li Miao. But now, unable to escape, he had boarded Li Miao's pirate ship and could only wholeheartedly aid his nephew.

Li Yin's abilities, it must be said, were considerable. The plan to borrow grain from Chen Lan and Lei Bo was his idea.

After a fright the previous day, Li Miao slept poorly and emerged the next morning with pronounced dark circles under his eyes to send off Li Yin and Zhang Xun. Yang Hong appeared as well, causing a scene, and Li Miao played along, acting as though he too loathed the idea of taking charity, as though he too hated asking a traitor and partial father's enemy for help. But for the people of Jiangting, he had no choice.

This performance truly moved the people of Jiangting to tears; one by one, they knelt and cried "Long live Li Miao!" A lord willing to endure humiliation for his people's survival—how could his followers not be touched?

Think of King Goujian, who slept on brushwood and tasted gall, who led three thousand Yue warriors to conquer Wu. In such stories, the humiliation of the ruler inspired his subjects to shame and then courage.

Li Miao couldn't help but regard the two old foxes with newfound respect. Though Yang Hong was a flatterer and a third-rate strategist, he understood human nature deeply enough to orchestrate such a scene.

He lamented quietly—never underestimate the wisdom of the ancients.

"Take care, Uncle Li Yin!" Li Miao wiped the tears and snot from his recent performance all over Li Yin. Though Li Yin was disgusted, he dared not push Li Miao away.

Once Li Miao had cleaned his face, Li Yin's expression darkened; he'd worn a white robe today, and now it was ruined. He cursed his damned nephew, wishing he'd choke on his food, drown on his drink, and trip as he walked.

Li Miao paid no heed to Li Yin's malicious thoughts, instead turning to Zhang Xun and instructing, "General Zhang Xun, you must protect my Uncle Li Yin. If anything happens to him, I'll hold you responsible!"

"Yes!" Zhang Xun, seeing Li Yin winking at him behind Li Miao's back, understood perfectly—his lord wanted him to keep an eye on Li Yin, lest he try to escape.

He clasped his hands and replied, "I will not fail your trust, my lord!"

Li Yin and Zhang Xun, accompanied by three hundred Imperial Guards, departed Jiangting. The city's defense then passed to Chen Dao's youth army.

Though three hundred Imperial Guards were few, their movement was not insignificant. Chen Lan and Lei Bo's stronghold was on Mount Tianzhu. What was Mount Tianzhu? It was the nexus between Huainan and the Central Plains—a place where a single warrior could block a thousand. Li Shu had once stationed two thousand soldiers here, able to withstand an enemy force of fifty thousand. It should have been impregnable—even Cao Cao's army could not pass. Unfortunately, Chen Lan and Lei Bo betrayed Li Shu and let Cao Cao through, leading his army into Shouchun and leaving Li Shu beset from all sides and defeated.

Now, Mount Tianzhu's camp was held by Chen Lan and Lei Bo. With Mount Tianzhu as their fortress, they could rampage through Huainan and Yuzhou or retreat to its heights, slowly becoming the region's overlords.

"Report, General—we've captured two spies!" As Zhang Xun and Li Yin marched, a scout reported that they'd caught two spies.

"Bring them forward!" Soon, the spies were dragged before Zhang Xun and Li Yin—two shifty-eyed men dumped at their feet.

"Spare us, General! Spare us!" The spies begged shamelessly, groveling from the start.

"Hmph, who are you, daring to spy on our army?" Zhang Xun furrowed his brows and glared, his face fierce as a demon, intimidating them.

"We're just ordinary folk, ordinary folk! This famine has left us like this, and we only happened upon your army by accident. Please, General, see the truth!" One of the spies, a little sharper than the other, pleaded.

"Ordinary folk?" Zhang Xun laughed, stepping close. Suddenly, he kicked them both, sending them sprawling, then grabbed their hands, inspecting the thick calluses on their thumbs.

These were blade calluses, found only on those who used knives often—every Imperial Guard bore them.

"Is this something ordinary folk should have?" Zhang Xun squinted at the spies. "Speak! Tell me, who sent you? If you don't, I may recognize you, but my sword does not!"

The cleverer spy, knowing he couldn't hide, struggled, "Heh, do you dare kill us? Don't you know where you are?" He tore off his mask, ready to gamble everything.

"Ha!" Zhang Xun sneered, "There's no one I dare not kill! Guards, drag him out and behead him!" He pointed at the clever spy, intending to make an example and force the other to talk.

Li Yin intervened, "Wait!" He strode over and called to Zhang Xun.

"General Zhang Xun, let them go!"

"Hmm?" Zhang Xun eyed Li Yin with suspicion. These were spies, an army matter—why interfere? Zhang Xun disliked Li Yin, who had initially wanted to abandon their young lord and flee north.

"General Zhang Xun, killing him won't get you any answers!" Li Yin shook his head. Did he not know where they were? The landmark ahead was the Tianzhu mountains.

Anyone found here belonged to those two men. Even if one was killed, the other wouldn't dare speak. Chen Lan and Lei Bo were despicable, but they had a method—never employing solitary men, instead recruiting those with families, whom they kept hostage. Thus, no one dared betray them.

Even if these two were killed, nothing would be learned.

"Go, tell your masters their old friends are here to visit!"

On Mount Tianzhu, a feast was underway—it was the fortieth birthday of the headman, Chen Lan, and the mountain echoed with laughter and celebration.

"Come, brother! Today is your joyous day! As your brother, I have nothing more to say—I will drink first in your honor, drink as much as you please!" said a burly man, raising a giant bowl of wine to the middle-aged man at the main table and draining it to show the crowd.

Such capacity drew a wave of cheers.

At the head sat Chen Lan, a man of considerable talent. Under Li Shu, he'd risen to the rank of Senior General—a position just below Commander, which itself was the pinnacle of martial command. When Li Shu campaigned in Xuzhou, he even entrusted Chen Lan's son with command of an army, a testament to his abilities.

One could see how highly Li Shu had valued him, yet after a lifetime of scheming, Li Shu was ultimately betrayed by this pig-headed ally. Chen Lan rebelled, left Li Shu vulnerable, looted all the military provisions and pay, and fled into the Tianzhu mountains, allowing Cao Cao's troops to enter and leading to Li Shu's complete defeat.

If Chen Lan was a military man, he leaned more toward being a civil official.

Except in battle, Chen Lan always wore scholar's robes, never armor. If not for his triangular eyes flashing cold light from time to time, one might mistake him for a learned gentleman.

The burly man was the mountain's second-in-command, Lei Bo—a true warrior, much like Zhang Xun, broad and crude, his mouth forever laced with profanity.

Lei Bo's mind wasn't as sharp as Chen Lan's, so he played second fiddle, but he possessed a martial prowess Chen Lan lacked. Chen Lan and Lei Bo, one literary, one military, made them the leaders among the bandits of Mount Tianzhu.

Lei Bo's skill in arms was among the best in Li Shu's army.

"Yes!" Chen Lan was fond of his younger brother, giving him plenty of face, raising his wine goblet and downing it at once.

"Good!" The crowd erupted in applause.

"Brother, with such fine wine and food, how can there be no beauties to accompany us? Look what I've brought!" Lei Bo clapped his hands, eager to show off to Chen Lan.

At his signal, several bandits dragged in a group of girls, beating and cursing as they went.

Amidst the commotion, cries could be heard; upon closer inspection, they were indeed young women.

Their attire varied—some dressed as village girls, others as silk-clad daughters of officials.

These were Lei Bo's spoils of war. He had recently raided a county in Jianghuai, and these girls were his prizes. Those small towns were no match for him—each had only a few hundred troops, mostly the old, sick, and weak. If Lei Bo climbed the city walls, victory was all but assured.