The soldiers changing shifts had just crawled up the dark ladder from the watchtower, the sweat still fresh on their foreheads, when they heard a muffled rumble coming from the north.
At first, it sounded like someone far away was dragging a heavy stone over dry earth.
Soon, the dull noise rolled across the ground, making even the bricks on the battlements tremble and shed dust.
The new recruit quickly stuffed his water pouch behind his waist and leaned over the battlement to look out.
Beyond the pass, yellow sand was whipped up by a fierce wind. On the distant horizon, a gray-yellow line of dust first appeared. Then, behind that line, a dark mass emerged.
As they ran, dust churned. At first glance, one might think a great crack had opened in the northern grasslands, spewing out a horde of horses.
The recruit's throat went dry. He grabbed the bronze gong hanging under the beam: “Enemy attack! The Helians are at the gate!”
The shout galvanized all the archers on the tower into action.
They kicked aside the quivers at their feet and snatched hard bows from the wooden racks.
The soldiers guarding the bridge below heard the commotion and looked up. Two army men near the drawbridge winch had already laid their hands firmly on the wooden handle, ready to raise the bridge and close the gates the moment the order came from the tower.
The recruit raised his mallet. Before he could bring it down a second time, his wrist was seized hard.
The one who stopped him was an old soldier standing duty on the tower.
This Old Qin was missing a piece of his left ear, his face darkened by wind and sand. Two scars slashed from his collarbone to his ribs, visible even through his old clothes, showing just how vicious those blade strikes once were.
“What are you ringing a death knell for, you fool!”
The recruit’s face flushed with urgency: “Uncle Qin, those horses! So many of them—who else could it be but the Helians?”
Old Qin didn’t let go. Instead, he pressed the recruit’s wrist down firmly.
“First, look at the flag.”
“The dust is too thick—I can’t make out the flag!”
“If you can’t see the flag, look at the formation.” Old Qin pointed north. “If the Helians were truly riding south to plunder, they wouldn’t let the horses run like this.”
“Look—the unarmored light cavalry in front are too scattered, and there’s no heavy cavalry holding the rear. And though the herd runs chaotically, it never spreads to either flank.”
“That proves someone is driving them from behind! And see those few riders at the front—so close to the gate, yet they haven’t loosed a single arrow. If they were Helian scouts, they would have tested their bows by now.”
The recruit swallowed hard, his eyes on the distance, still unsettled.
An archer nearby lowered his voice: “Old Qin, the numbers aren’t right. There must be at least several hundred horses.”
“That’s exactly why we can’t just bang the gong blindly.” Old Qin wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Once the gong sounds, the townsfolk below will panic. The wagons will clog the barbican. We won’t even be able to close the gates properly. Defending a city—faster hands aren’t worth move heads. Remember that.”
The recruit, having been scolded, pressed his lips together but dared not argue.
The hoofbeats grew louder.
Vaguely, from within the dust, someone shouted something. But the wind atop the tower made it impossible to distinguish clearly.
Then, from the front of the column, a single rider broke away from the horse herd. A small flag fluttered on the rider’s back. When he came within another dozen paces, the dark-edged, white-backed banner revealed itself.
“That’s the Town-Northern Army flag!”
Someone yelled.
Then another pointed at the left arm of the foremost rider: “Break Raid Camp! They’re wearing the Break Raid Camp armbands!”
The taut bowstrings on the tower didn’t slacken, but the archers let out a long breath and muttered a low curse.
The recruit nearly dropped his mallet. Old Qin finally released him and kicked him gently on the shin.
“Keep your eyes wide open next time. Don’t go wailing the moment something happens.”
The gate captain strode out of his duty post, climbed the wooden ladder three steps at a time, and jumped onto the tower.
He snatched the long-spy glass from the lookout, pressed one eye to it, and took a breath as he saw the formation through the swirling sand.
“Open the gate halfway!” The captain suppressed the shock in his heart and gave cautious orders. “Lower the drawbridge only halfway. Keep the archers on string. No one crosses the ditch until we hear the password!”
The soldiers below responded in unison.
The winch creaked, and the drawbridge lowered inch by inch. It stopped halfway up, hanging above the moat.
Only one half of the great gate was pushed open; the crossbar behind it was only partially removed, leaving room to shove it back at any moment.
When the distant horse herd was about to reach the outer edge of the moat, the front riders all reined in, slowing their pace. Hooves dug long, deep gouges into the dry dirt.
The lead rider urged his horse forward. His shoulder armor had been split open by a blade, and beneath the curled iron shard, his blood-stained tunic was visible.
His left arm was wrapped in filthy linen; the blood had long since dried to a dark brown.
He looked up at the tower, and his voice carried straight up on the hot wind.
“Town-Northern Army, Break Raid Camp, Xu Zhan, reporting back and completing mission!”
The gate captain gripped the battlements and looked down. Following protocol, he called out loudly: “Password.”
Xu Zhan answered without hesitation.
“North wind crosses the ridge.”
The captain asked again: “Countersign.”
Xu Zhan wiped the blood and grime from his chin and spat out his answer like iron.
“Blade stays not in its sheath.”
The gate captain finally raised his hand sharply: “Lower the bridge! Open the gate!”
The drawbridge fell, landing with a heavy thud on the dirt bank outside the moat.
The half-open gate was pushed wide. The hot air that had stewed in the tunnel all afternoon scattered the moment the horses surged through.
Xu Zhan clamped his thighs on the horse’s flanks and led his men into the city, without a trace of arrogance.
The fifty riders of Break Raid Camp entered in formation: ten in front controlled the path, the middle section herded the horses, and the rear secured the column. All was orderly.
The horses were divided into several groups, linked by ropes. Some of the lead horses snorted white foam, their necks still adorned with Helian decorated reins.
The townsfolk—merchants waiting to leave the city and water carriers—had already been pushed to the sides. Now they craned their necks, staring at the spectacle.
“Good heavens, how many fine horses is that?”
“What’s in those black chests? The horses’ backs are nearly bent under the weight!”
“Look at that tack—it’s Helian royal-style, isn’t it?”
An old man selling bean soup held his wooden bucket, his ladle forgotten, and murmured, “Didn’t Battalion Commander Xu just leave the pass a few days ago? How did they come back with this much loot?”
No sooner had he spoken than a one-armed veteran slapped him on the back, nearly making him spill his soup.
“Watch your mouth, old man!” The veteran glared at him. “Still calling him Battalion Commander? The military bulletin came down long ago. It’s Brigade Commander now.”
The old man froze, then corrected himself in a hurry: “Brigade Commander Xu, Brigade Commander Xu. My tongue slipped.”
“A slip doesn’t matter—just don’t cheapen his achievement.” The one-armed veteran stared at the blood-soaked column inside the gate. “To lead fifty men back with so many horses from beyond the pass—earning the title of brigade commander? He’s earned it.”
The gate captain had already descended from the tower and, with two attendants, approached the tunnel.
When Xu Zhan dismounted, the captain saluted him solemnly, hands clasped.
“Congratulations to Brigade Commander Xu on your victorious return.”
At those words, a tingling thrill rushed through Xu Zhan. He couldn’t help the feeling of quiet delight rising to his head.
After all, who doesn’t care about honor and rank?
The taste of promotion—it was certainly not bad!
“Victory or not—that’s for the High Commander to judge.” Xu Zhan tossed his reins to the soldier behind him and returned the salute. “Let the gate be lent for a little while. The horse herd must be divided into pens first. The black-lacquered chests must not be opened. Send them to the Commander-in-Chief’s compound for sealed storage.”
When the gate captain heard “black-lacquered chests,” his eyes swept over those heavy wooden boxes that bent the horses’ backs low. His eyelids twitched, but he suppressed his curiosity and asked no further.
No fool held the post of gate captain at the Town-Northern Pass.
These past few days, the situation inside the pass had been tense. The three main forces—the Imperial Envoy's headquarters, the Arsenal Directorate, and the General’s Garrison—raced about like the wind. Even the mess hall water carriers had their badges checked.
This sortie by the Breakthrough Camp was definitely no ordinary patrol.
He stepped aside to make way. "Rest assured, Major Xu. I’ll keep the city gate secure. No riffraff will get within a horse's length."
When the Breakthrough Camp soldiers heard the words "Major Xu," none dared to shout recklessly.
Still, a few men in the column nudged each other across their horses' backs.
Niu Dali cracked his wide mouth open, ready to laugh, but the movement tugged at the wound on his back. He sucked in a sharp breath through the pain, yet couldn't help elbowing the brother beside him.
"Did you hear that? 'Major!'"
The soldier next to him elbowed him back. "Shut your mouth, you fool. Your wound’s already ripped open, and you’re still showing off."
Niu Dali wasn’t convinced. He turned his head and saw so many eyes fixed on him from both sides of the city gate. He figured he’d be doing himself a disservice if he didn’t brag a little about the scars on his body.
He puffed out his chest, his loud voice impossible to hold back anymore.
"You don’t know—at White Wolf Valley, I chopped off that bastard Helian's..."
Xu Zhan turned his head and shot him a cold, cutting glance.
The second half of Niu Dali’s sentence got stuck right between his teeth. He swallowed hard, forcing it into a cough instead.
Xu Zhan said coldly, "First report for duty, then we’ll talk about merits! Whoever shows off at the city gate won’t get any meat for dinner tonight."
Niu Dali instantly shrank his neck back in.
Old Wu led a string of war horses past just then. Hearing this, he tapped the toe of Niu Dali’s boot with his whip handle.
"You split a rope shackle? You nearly chopped off the horse’s tail! If those Helian horses could talk, they’d file the first complaint against you."
A few nearby Breakthrough Camp soldiers stifled their laughter.
Xu Zhan paid them no more mind. He turned to Old Wu and gave his orders. "Split the horses into three batches. Send the first batch to the temporary paddock at the East Drill Ground. Don’t water them all at once. As for the black-lacquered chests, keep those in a separate formation. Assign ten men to guard them closely. If even a single nail goes missing, you’ll answer for it."
Old Wu nodded, then turned and barked, "You all deaf? Lead horses to the east, wounded horses against the wall—don’t block the gate! Niu Dali, take three men to hold the rear. If any horse kicks a civilian, you’re sleeping in the stable tonight!"
Niu Dali answered with a shout while tucking his blade behind his waist. He bared his teeth at the kids gathered nearby to watch the commotion.
"You little ones, back off! A horse’s hind kick doesn’t care who you are. If it knocks your front teeth out, your mother will come ask me for money—and I don’t have any!"
The frightened child ducked behind his mother, then timidly peeked half his face back out.
More and more commoners gathered, but no one dared cross the white lime line drawn by the garrison.
The city gate soldiers held the crowd back with their spears. Shopkeepers peered out from their storefronts, even their abacuses frozen mid-clack.
A few veterans who had been lounging at the tea stand all rose to their feet at once.
Some victories didn’t need bugles to announce them. The dirt and blood on men’s bodies spoke for themselves.
Xu Zhan led his horse toward the inner city. Passing the gate captain, he paused his stride.
"All horses entering the city today will be recorded as warhorses of the Zhenbei Army. Until their origin is verified, no idle tongues inside the city are to gossip—especially not about who those horses were taken from."
The gate captain caught the immense weight hidden in those words and answered in a low voice. "Understood, Commander. I will keep the whole gate firmly in check."
Xu Zhan nodded and led his men onward.
Batch after batch of horses poured through the tunnel of the city gate. The sound of iron-shod hooves was compressed by the arched passageway, then pushed deep into the town.
On the city wall, a fresh recruit peered through the crenellations, his palms drenched in sweat. He couldn’t tell if it was from the fear earlier or the blazing sun.
By the time the last draft of war horses had entered the gate, Lao Qin withdrew his gaze and straightened the crooked brass gong with a flick of his hand.
The new recruit swallowed. In a low voice, he asked, "Uncle Qin, how many Helians did they kill?"
Lao Qin looked at the dust still hanging in the distance, raised a hand, and pressed the young man’s head down.
"Don’t ask so much. Besides… how would I know?"
The new recruit rubbed his head. "I only asked once."
Lao Qin hung the brass gong mallet back on its beam and slowly let out a single sentence.
"Remember this: These are our own Zhenbei Army horses."
The new recruit froze for a moment, then caught on. He snickered twice.
Below the city wall, the drawbridge rose once more. The city gate crashed shut with a heavy boom.
The sound of hooves still echoed through the gate tunnel—thump, thump, thump—filling every corner of the Zhenbei Pass.
