Two days earlier.
Night had fallen, and a bitter wind raged across the wilderness.
Xu Chengguang, Young General of the Great Qian Pingqiang Army, gripped the reins tightly, his eyes bloodshot.
The cold wind sweeping across the grasslands could carve fine cuts into a man’s cheeks.
Along the way, he had encountered troops sent from the Western Route Prefecture to meet him. They had now been marching at breakneck speed for an entire day and night.
Ahead lay the Western Route Prefecture.
There were no reinforcements. No provisions. Fifty thousand soldiers from the Helian Royal Camp had encircled the city.
Xu Chengguang knew all too well that taking this handful of men there would mean nothing more than collecting corpses and dying alongside the city.
But the banner of Great Qian could not fall beyond the frontier without so much as a sound.
“Report!”
The hurried pounding of hooves drew rapidly closer.
A scout came charging out of the darkness ahead. His horse’s flanks heaved violently, great clouds of white vapor bursting from its nostrils.
The scout reined in sharply, then leapt from the saddle before Xu Chengguang.
“Reporting to the Young General! Eight li ahead, we spotted a cavalry unit of over a hundred men! Every rider has two mounts. They’re covered in blood and charging straight toward us!”
Xu Chengguang’s pupils contracted.
Eight li.
At that speed, they were certainly no scattered survivors.
But the Western Route Prefecture was surrounded so completely that not even water could seep through. How could more than a hundred riders have broken out?
There was only one possibility: the city had fallen, and every defender within had been slaughtered…
This cavalry unit must be the elite mounted scouts King Ashina Gudu of the Helian forces had sent to wipe out the reinforcements!
Xu Chengguang reached back and gripped the hilt of his saber. The blade slid half a cun from its sheath.
“Pass down my order!” His voice was low, carrying an unmistakable resolve. “The entire army will halt! Form ranks where you stand! Archers and crossbowmen, string your weapons! Spearmen, advance! Prepare for a bloody battle!”
The order rippled through the ranks.
Several hundred reinforcements swiftly formed up. Shields struck the ground, and spears rose like a forest, building a wall of steel in the frozen night.
Torchlight swayed in the wind, illuminating one tense face after another.
Every soldier tightened his grip on his weapon and fixed his gaze upon the darkness ahead.
The hoofbeats arrived.
Before long, a cavalry unit emerged from the night.
Xu Chengguang narrowed his eyes and studied them by the light of the torches.
Their formation was disordered, their warhorses exhausted, and round objects hung from the saddles of nearly every mount.
Wait!
There was no golden wolf banner of the Helian forces.
As the riders drew nearer, Xu Chengguang finally saw the armor they wore.
It was the standard black-iron lamellar armor of the Great Qian military.
Every plate was smeared with dark-red blood, which had frozen into a thick, hardened crust in the cold wind.
At the very front rode a man astride a magnificent black steed.
He wore no helmet. His hair was tied loosely behind his head with a strip of cloth.
Most striking of all, one of his sleeves hung empty, snapping in the wind.
A heavy, six-sided iron mace was slung diagonally across his back.
A name flashed through Xu Chengguang’s mind.
He immediately raised his hand and shouted, “Sheathe your weapons! Break formation!”
The officers around him were momentarily stunned, but military orders were absolute. They quickly lowered their weapons and opened a passage.
Xu Chengguang dug both heels into his horse’s flanks and rode forward to meet the newcomers.
Ten paces from the other party, he hauled hard on the reins.
“Are you the Second Son of the Earl of Sincerity’s House, General Xu Zhan?” Xu Chengguang called loudly, his eyes fixed on the one-armed man atop the horse.
Xu Zhan raised his head. His face was covered in dried blood, making his expression impossible to read.
With his only remaining arm, he seized the reins and brought the black steed to a halt.
“The Pingqiang Army?” Xu Zhan asked, sweeping his gaze over the banners behind Xu Chengguang. His voice was hoarse and dry.
“Xu Chengguang, Young General of the Pingqiang Army.” Xu Chengguang gave his name, then dismounted and hurried to the front of Xu Zhan’s horse.
He looked up at the battered yet fiercely murderous hundred-man unit before him, and his eyes reddened at once.
“General Xu!” Xu Chengguang’s voice trembled with anxiety and grief. “How is the battle at the Western Route Prefecture? Has General Han Chong already…? Did you fight your way out at the cost of your lives just to bring us word?”
In his eyes, these men were the final spark left alive in the Western Route Prefecture.
With fifty thousand enemy troops surrounding the city, he could not imagine how many comrades had died to allow this hundred-man unit to break through.
Xu Zhan looked down at Xu Chengguang from horseback but did not answer immediately.
The hundred-odd riders behind him remained silent and still. Only the occasional snort of a warhorse broke the quiet.
Xu Zhan untied the waterskin from his waist, pulled out the stopper, and took a long drink of strong liquor.
The liquor ran down his chin and into his collar.
He let out a long breath, then hung the waterskin back in place.
“Han Chong isn’t dead. The Western Route Prefecture still stands,” Xu Zhan said.
Xu Chengguang froze.
The grief and outrage on his face solidified, and he stood motionless in the snow.
“It still stands?” he blurted out. “Fifty thousand Royal Camp troops surrounded it! King Ashina Gudu personally directed the siege! And they had those thunderous trebuchets that can smash cities and fortresses! How did you… how did you hold them off?”
Xu Zhan used his remaining hand to pat the horse’s neck, brushing away the blood spattered across it.
“We didn’t hold them off,” Xu Zhan replied.
“We didn’t?” Xu Chengguang stared at him in bewilderment.
“I took two hundred men and slipped into the enemy’s central encampment under cover of night.” Xu Zhan guided his horse in a slow, unsteady circle, exhaustion written across his face.
“And then?” Xu Chengguang’s breathing quickened.
“We burned nine of their thunderous trebuchets, then blew up their powder magazine.” Xu Zhan looked at him. “While we were at it, we killed a ten-thousand-man commander named Badu and hacked down their bull-horned war banner.”
The bitter wind howled across the wilderness.
The Western Route Prefecture’s camp fell utterly silent.
Xu Chengguang’s eyes widened as he stared at Xu Zhan.
Two hundred men.
They had infiltrated the camp of fifty thousand.
Burned the trebuchets, slain the commander, and toppled the banner.
And they had still managed to escape alive.
A feat like that would be enough to shake the entire military establishment of Great Qian.
Xu Chengguang’s chest surged with an indescribable astonishment.
The despair that had weighed upon him for an entire day and night was shattered by those few casually spoken words.
He took a step back, then dropped to one knee and clasped his fists.
“Xu Chengguang, on behalf of the five thousand surviving troops of the Western Route Prefecture, and on behalf of the soldiers and civilians of Great Qian’s northern frontier, thanks General Xu for turning the tide at the brink of collapse and saving our lives!”
The army behind him followed suit, dropping to one knee in perfect unison.
Xu Zhan’s brows shifted slightly at the sight.
He dismounted and firmly caught Xu Chengguang by the wrist, hauling him back to his feet.
“You give me too much credit, General Xu,” he said. “As officers of Great Qian, we draw our pay from the imperial court. Slaying the enemy is simply our duty. There is no need to thank me.”
Xu Chengguang rose with him, his eyes filled with awe.
“General Xu is a man of true honor,” Xu Chengguang said.
“General Xu is a man of true honor.” Xu Chengguang drew a deep breath, his tone frank and composed. “To be honest, I recently handed over command of the northwest defenses and rode alone to the Northern Garrison Pass because I was dissatisfied.”
“I had heard that the northern frontier had produced a formidable warrior—the one-armed armor-breaking general. I had intended to test myself against you and seek you out for a martial contest.”
His gaze swept over Xu Zhan’s blood-caked armor and the severed head of a Helian ten-thousand-man commander hanging beside the saddle.
“Now that I know what you accomplished today, there is no need for that contest.”
Xu Chengguang clasped his fists, his voice ringing like struck metal.
“People say the Hegemon-King of Western Chu possessed the strength to face ten thousand men alone. But in my eyes—”
“A general who led two hundred horsemen to break through an encampment of fifty thousand by night, slay their commander, and seize their banner…”
“Your courage and ferocity surpass even those of the heroes of old.”
Xu Chengguang went on to say:
“For this astonishing feat of arms that has shaken the frontier, I will personally write a memorial and submit it to the Ministry of War and the Grand Secretariat. I will never allow the general’s accomplishments to be buried without a trace.”
Xu Zhan showed little reaction. He merely gave a slight nod, accepting the promise.
Xu Chengguang composed himself and got to the point.
“May I ask, General, what are your plans now?”
Xu Zhan released his grip and turned toward his black steed.
“I’m going to the central camp,” Xu Zhan said.
Xu Chengguang was startled and hurried forward.
“The central camp? The main force of Left Gully King Ashina Dubi is concentrated there. Your hundred-odd men have just come through a bloody battle. To go to the central camp now would be no different from throwing an egg against a rock!”
Xu Zhan stopped and looked back at Xu Chengguang with interest.
“Young General Xu, since you bear the surname Xu, may I ask what relation you are to Elder Xu, the current Grand Secretary?”
Xu Chengguang’s expression grew solemn. He cupped his fists and replied, “He is my grandfather.”
The moment those words fell, even the neighing of the warhorses among the hundred-odd cavalry behind Xu Zhan seemed to cease.
These men were hardened warriors who had just clawed their way out of the heaps of corpses surrounding Ashina Gudu’s royal tent, carrying the enemy general’s severed head in their hands. Yet upon hearing the name of such a family, even they could not help revealing a fear that ran deep into their bones.
In the Great Qian Empire, generals dared to gamble their lives, but the great clans could determine one’s fortune or ruin.
Those powerful aristocratic houses entrenched in the imperial court had deep roots formed over centuries and millennia, their influence embedded in the very blood vessels of the empire.
Veterans on the frontier dared to challenge the fiercest warhorses, but they feared most the slightest word from the Xu clan and the handful of other great houses in the capital.
They were clouds pressing down from above, a sharpened blade that could cut down a general without spilling blood. A single decree from them could decide the rations of countless wronged souls and determine whether a family would live or die.
Who could have imagined that this young man in battered armor was actually the heir of the cold empire’s most powerful clan?
Xu Zhan’s expression grew more solemn as well.
He straightened his armor and gave Xu Chengguang the formal salute of a military officer.
“So you are Grand Secretary Xu’s grandson. Please forgive my earlier disrespect.”
Xu Chengguang hurriedly returned the salute. “General Xu, you honor me. You are a pillar of the nation. Compared with your military achievements, a man of my standing is nothing worth mentioning.”
Xu Zhan did not dwell on the subject. He straightened and pointed in the direction of Zhenbei Pass.
“Before I left the pass, Qinghuan gave me a brocade pouch,” Xu Zhan said.
“The imperial commissioner?” Xu Chengguang’s heart stirred.
Xu Zhan nodded. “She calculated the timing precisely. She instructed me to reach the outskirts of Zhenbei Pass before midnight, because by then, Zhenbei Pass would be facing a crisis.”
Xu Chengguang drew in a sharp breath.
He thought of the tangled situation within Zhenbei Pass. He thought of Chen Changfeng’s ruthless schemes.
“The imperial commissioner is trapped inside that doomed city, yet she managed to calculate even this?” Xu Chengguang exclaimed in shock.
He had assumed that Xu Qinghuan was merely struggling to hold out inside the city. He had never imagined that she had already deduced the movements of the surprise forces outside the pass and the exact timetable of the enemy’s main army with such flawless precision.
Xu Zhan swung himself onto his horse and took the reins in one hand.
“For her, arranging troops and deploying formations like this is nothing more than a leisurely stroll through a courtyard.”
A calm, confident smile curved Xu Zhan’s lips.
He turned and looked toward the hundred-odd bloodstained cavalrymen.
“Brothers!” Xu Zhan shouted. “Can you still lift your blades?”
“Yes!”
The roar of the hundred men rang out as one, shaking the night sky.
“Good! Change horses and follow me to the central camp. We’re going to give the imperial commissioner a grand gift!”
Xu Zhan squeezed his legs against his black steed. The horse let out a long neigh and shot into the night like an arrow loosed from a bow.
The hundred-odd cavalrymen followed close behind, raising clouds of dust as they quickly vanished into the darkness.
Xu Chengguang remained where he stood, gazing in the direction they had departed. For a long time, he could not recover from his shock.
