Qu Bai also gazed into the distance toward Jiang Jin. Although the distance was great, he spotted her at a single glance.
He knew Jiang Jin was the master of the Jinyang Army, yet he knew nothing about her—not her identity or her past.
This woman seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
As for the generals under her command, aside from Yun Ci and Yun Yu, as well as the Yan Kingdom’s Grand General Zhou Sui, he knew nothing of the others, yet they were all formidable in strength.
It seemed he would need to find an opportunity to investigate her, to uncover her background—only by knowing her origins could he discover her weaknesses.
However, since even Zhou Sui and Yun Ci were willing to submit to her authority, her status was likely far from ordinary.
Qu Bai narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at the red flag fluttering in the wind, emblazoned with the characters “Jinyang.”
Then he turned his gaze to the Jinyang troops standing ready on the city wall. He couldn’t shake the feeling—whether it was his imagination or not—that there was something different about them this time.
Zhou Sui and Yun Chengxuan stood on the city wall, peering through telescopes at Qu Bai’s great army, which made Yao Ji and the others envious.
They had already learned that these devices called “far-seers” could see great distances and even clearly in the dark—they seemed practically born for war. Their jealousy and admiration burned, but unfortunately, their lord had only given them to the Grand General and the young master.
If they accomplished a great feat, they wondered, might they be rewarded with one as well?
At this moment, Zhou Sui sighed deeply with emotion. Truly, even through the billowing dust, he could clearly see the Qu Zhao soldiers lined up at the rear. The view was crystal clear.
Lei Qian, unable to contain himself, eagerly sought permission to fight: “General, allow me to go and test them.”
Qu Bai lifted his eyes to glance at him and nodded. “Granted.”
In truth, the duels in the past had left him somewhat traumatized. Ge Feng’s generals were remarkably strong, and his own fierce warriors were no match for them.
Since Lei Qian wanted to step forward, it was a perfect chance to let him try. If he could slay one of the enemy’s generals before the siege began, it would certainly boost their army’s morale.
Jiang Jin watched the burly man ride his horse to within less than a hundred meters of the moat.
The man had a menacing face and carried a massive iron axe.
The axe was larger than a human head, glinting with a dark, metallic luster—clearly no ordinary weapon.
Jiang Jin recalled the dossier on Qu Zhao’s various generals that Yun Ci had given her. If she wasn’t mistaken, this man must be Lei Qian.
Sure enough, the burly man bellowed: “I am Lei Qian of Qu Zhao! You Han thieves, open the city gates at once and let us in, and spare your miserable lives.”
It was only natural that Xie Nanxiao would take charge of the verbal sparring. After escorting the civilians and grain to Chunrong County the previous morning, he had returned to Shanguan County.
Standing on the city wall, he took a deep breath and shouted: “Do you really think sticking a scallion in your ear makes you an elephant? You want us to let you in? Why don’t you take a look in a mirror to see if you’re even worthy?”
“Oh, I forgot—you Qu Zhao wretches probably don’t know what a mirror is, do you? Well, that’s simple—just take a piss and look at your reflection.”
Lei Qian had always had a fiery temper, and he instantly exploded, raising his axe to point at Xie Nanxiao. “How dare you insult me! Come down here and die!”
Xie Nanxiao snorted coldly: “I should come down just because you say so? Who do you think you are? A face like a pig’s head?”
“Ha! Even pigs would be ashamed to look like you. Among all things in this world, there’s nothing as uniquely ugly as you.”
Lei Qian was so enraged he nearly spat blood. His voice shaking with fury, he roared: “Han thieves! Come down and duel me! I’ll chop you into ten pieces!”
Xie Nanxiao scoffed: “Ten pieces? I’m afraid you’d lose count. I’ll just cut you in two—so even in death, you’ll know exactly how many pieces you were chopped into.”
“That way, when you get to the underworld and can’t count how many parts you’ve been split into, you won’t leave behind any missing limbs and fail to piece yourself back together. That would be my fault, since I tend to be kind to the dead.”
Lei Qian felt the blood rush to his head, his heart, liver, and lungs aching with rage. “You—you—come down and die!”
Jiang Jin, seeing the verbal sparring had gone on long enough, prepared to send someone down to fight. She raised her eyes and saw Yao Ji and the others all staring at her, eager and impatient.
Jiang Jin paused, then said: “Yao Ji, you’ll take this one. Make sure to show the might of our Jinyang Army.”
Yao Ji was overjoyed. He bowed respectfully: “Understood. I will not fail your expectations.”
The city gate opened, the drawbridge lowered, and Yao Ji rode slowly out from the city on horseback.
Lei Qian frowned: “Where’s that talkative thief from earlier? Tell him to come down and die!”
Yao Ji raised his black lance, the Molin, and pointed it at him, his voice icy: “Our Jinyang Army decides who fights whom. You don’t get to choose. You Qu Zhao people can only take what we give you!”
Lei Qian’s eyes blazed with fury: “Han thieves! Cowards, all of you! Since they sent you to die, I’ll make sure you suffer first.”
Without another word, he spurred his horse and charged at Yao Ji.
Yao Ji drove his mount forward as well, charging straight at Lei Qian.
As the distance closed, Yao Ji thrust his Molin forward with overwhelming momentum, aiming directly at Lei Qian’s abdomen.
His speed was blinding, carrying with it a biting chill.
Lei Qian’s heart tightened. So fast!
He had no time to counter. He leaned sideways, suspending his body entirely along the left side of his horse, barely dodging the lethal thrust.
Despite his massive frame, his movements were surprisingly agile. After evading the strike, he quickly righted himself.
Having failed to land the killing blow, Yao Ji swiftly adjusted direction and attacked again.
Lei Qian reacted just as quickly, turning his horse around as well. This time, he wouldn’t be careless. This Han general’s lance technique was fearsome—fast, fierce, and deadly accurate.
If he hadn’t been a battle-hardened veteran with quick reflexes, that first strike would have been impossible to evade.
Yao Ji thrust out the Molin once more, this time aiming for Lei Qian’s neck.
Lei Qian sneered, tilting his body slightly to dodge the lance while swinging his iron axe toward Yao Ji’s abdomen.
A cold smirk crossed Yao Ji’s lips. He twisted his wrist, suddenly dropping the lance downward. His true target had always been Lei Qian’s abdomen—the previous strikes were merely feints.
Lei Qian’s pupils shrank. There was no time to block. With a sharp clang, the lance blade pierced through his armor and plunged into his stomach.
In a flash of lightning, the blade drove through his belly until it caught at the hilt.
The enormous impact bent the lance shaft, but Yao Ji’s arm remained steady. He hoisted Lei Qian into the air and flung him several zhang away, where he crashed heavily to the ground.
Yao Ji pressed forward without pause. Before Lei Qian could rise, he drove the Molin down with brutal force.
Blood splattered everywhere. The blade cut through the armor again and pierced Lei Qian’s chest, pinning him to the ground.
Lei Qian coughed up blood. Even now, the fierce warrior still clung tightly to his iron axe, refusing to let go.
His eyes were vicious. He grabbed the lance with one hand while gripping his axe with the other, struggling to rise—but his upper body was pinned entirely to the ground, unable to move.
“Ahhh!” Lei Qian let out a furious roar of unwillingness. Ignoring the dreadful pain and weakness in his body, he gathered his last shred of strength and hurled his axe directly at Yao Ji’s head.
Yao Ji’s expression was cold and indifferent. His right hand held the lance, keeping Lei Qian pinned, while his left hand shot out and caught the flying axe with deadly precision.
Bang.
He caught the axe handle firmly.
Bang.
With a flick of his hand, Yao Ji slammed the heavy, dozens-of-jin axe down onto Lei Qian’s head.
Red and white matter burst forth, splattering onto the ground, glinting gold in the sunlight—macabre and eerie.
