The Western Regions are dotted with basins of varying sizes, where large armies can maneuver freely, making defense difficult. Historically, only during the peak of the Central Plains dynasties could they extend their influence westward. The concept of the Northern Liang Protectorate originated from the revival era of the Dafeng Dynasty. Today, the three garrisons of Qingcang, Linyao, and Fengxiang serve as vital links between the Western Regions and the Central Plains. West of the Linyao Garrison lies the vast expanse dominated by the strategic Miyun Pass, with the Mount Lantuo situated to the left of this pass, naturally ideal for stationing troops and storing supplies.
Two successive cavalry units advanced eastward along this broad transverse pass. The latter was a typical Northern Mang light cavalry formation. Apart from the centurions and chiliarchs clad in iron armor, indistinguishable from Central Plains cavalry commanders, most riders wore lightweight leather armor, equipped with an assortment of weapons—sabers, spears, cavalry bows, and even maces and lassos hung on the sides of auxiliary horses. The vanguard cavalry, however, was noticeably “heavier.” To avoid exhausting their warhorses, they had two auxiliary mounts per rider: one carrying weapons and iron armor, the other laden with eye-catching armor bags. Their intricate armor featured inner leather lining and outer scale or chainmail, with standardized weapons—spears, cavalry bows, and sabers—all mounted on the horses. This force of around 3,000 riders even had their warhorses clad in leather armor. Just the scale of one rider with three horses indicated that, regardless of combat prowess, this cavalry was among the elite in the Northern Mang frontier forces—dubbed the “Old Man’s Army.”
According to the jests of their archrivals, the Northern Liang frontier forces, the Northern Mang cavalry could be roughly divided into three types. The “Son’s Army,” composed of elite Southern Dynasty cavalry with one rider and two horses, was the favored force of the Southern Dynasty’s nobility, lavishly equipped with superior horses and weapons, such as those stationed at Wazhu and Junziguan. The “Grandson’s Army” was far inferior, seen by the Northern Liang, especially the elite cavalry beyond Liangzhou’s borders, as little more than easy prey. The formidable “Old Man’s Army,” however, was not to be underestimated, with three to five auxiliary horses per rider, like Dong Zhuo’s private cavalry, Hong Jingyan’s Rouran Iron Cavalry, and the personal forces of Northern Mang generals like Liu Gui and Yang Yuanzan. Though few in number, they were exceptionally strong, never shying from battle regardless of odds, fighting to the death—victorious like a hot knife through butter, or annihilated to the last man, often dictating the tide of battle.
This 10,000-strong Northern Mang cavalry was the very force that successfully escorted Zhong Tan to Mount Lantuo, assembled from the treasured reserves of several Southern Dynasty noble houses. After the first Liang-Mang war, the Southern Dynasty’s high-ranking families, who had gambled on the battlefields of Liuzhou and Youzhou, suffered heavy losses. Having lost faith in veteran commanders like Liu Gui and Yang Yuanzan, these six or seven allied Southern Dynasty clans wisely placed their bets on the rising star, Xia Nabozhong Tan. Of course, Zhong Tan, backed by powerful connections, also invested heavily from his family’s coffers—the 3,000 elite cavalry were drawn from the Zhong family’s Iron Cavalry, half of their total strength, a clear indication of their regard for this eldest legitimate son. This was hardly surprising, given that Zhong Tan had even earned the personal praise of the Empress in court—an honor shared by only a select few like Liu Gui and Dong Zhuo in the past two decades of Northern Mang politics.
Zhong Tan rode atop a prized Ferghana horse nicknamed “Beauty,” yet the young general, who should have been brimming with pride, wore a gloomy expression as he gazed into the distance. A trusted chiliarch beside him asked curiously, “Young Master, we’ve already dispatched over 80 scouts, all our own men. Nothing can go wrong. I reckon there won’t be any action until we reach Fengxiang Garrison in Liuzhou. What troubles you?”
Amid the familiar sounds of hooves and occasional camel bells, Zhong Tan frowned. “It’s too quiet.”
The Zhong family chiliarch scratched his bald head and grinned. “Young Master, your sudden move to Mount Lantuo caught everyone off guard. It’s only natural the Northern Liang forces haven’t reacted yet. With Liuzhou’s pitiful cavalry tied up dealing with Huang Songpu’s troops, they can’t possibly spare any attention for us.”
Zhong Tan sighed, his voice heavy with concern. “In the last war, Dong Zhuo took Liangzhou’s Hutou City, and Liuzhou remained evenly matched, yet we lost the entire campaign because Youzhou collapsed. This time, the decisive battle lies north of Jubei City, but the key to victory or defeat is in Liuzhou. My fear is that, just like last time, the war will be lost wherever I, Zhong Tan, am stationed…”
The chiliarch hastily interrupted his ominous words, scowling. “Young Master, don’t jinx it!”
Zhong Tan chuckled self-deprecatingly, then hardened his gaze. “Keep a close eye on the scouts. The moment their reports show the slightest irregularity or delay, our 3,000 vanguard cavalry will prepare for battle and charge out of Miyun Pass at full speed, ensuring the 6,000 behind us can deploy on open ground.”
The reason Xia Nabozhong personally led the 3,000 Zhong family Iron Cavalry as vanguard was his fear of being trapped inside Miyun Pass. The motley 6,000 riders behind him might not withstand a sudden assault by a large Northern Liang cavalry force, potentially collapsing like a breached dam. In such a scenario, the pass would become a slaughterhouse, and even the nearby Mount Lantuo monks would be of little use in the fleeting moments of cavalry combat. Having survived the brutal Hulu Pass battles, Zhong Tan knew all too well that numerical superiority on paper meant nothing—a lesson proven not only in Liang-Mang conflicts but also in the Western Chu rebellion in Guangling Dao, where young commanders like Xie Xichui and Kou Jianghuai achieved improbable victories.
Though Zhong Tan had discussed with his father, Zhong Shengtong, and uncle, Zhong Liang, concluding that Liuzhou’s precarious situation wouldn’t allow Northern Liang to spare 20,000 cavalry to intercept them—and that with fewer than 20,000, his 10,000 riders and the nearly 10,000 Mount Lantuo monks would be invincible west of Liuzhou—he never believed in battlefield certainties. During the court audience where the Empress praised him before the assembled ministers, Zhong Tan had remained humble, claiming he had “no outstanding qualities, only caution in command.” This wasn’t just to spare the feelings of defeated generals like Liu Gui and Dong Zhuo but reflected his true approach to warfare.
Zhong Tan muttered to himself, “Once I’m out of Miyun Pass, even if Xu Fengnian has the power to overturn heaven and earth in Liuzhou, it won’t matter. But even if he dares to intercept me, can he truly stop me?”
Though the exit was still some distance away and the latest scout reports showed no anomalies, Zhong Tan suddenly narrowed his eyes and issued an unexpected order: “Vanguard 3,000, change horses! Armor up!”
With that, Zhong Tan spurred his horse forward, leading the charge.
If no Northern Liang cavalry lay in wait outside the pass, they could treat it as a drill.
※※※
Military strategy has always emphasized striking when the enemy is halfway across a river—timing and terrain dictate tactics.
A young, scholarly-looking cavalry officer raised his arm, and the 6,000 riders behind him from two garrisons halted abruptly.
He gazed toward Miyun Pass, roughly three miles away. His exhausted troops, each with two horses, were visibly weary. Under normal circumstances, such a force would need at least half an hour to rest and recover before reaching peak combat readiness. The finest warhorse could cover 300 miles in a day, while the famed 600- or even 800-mile urgent dispatches relied on relay stations and the sacrifice of messenger horses. In truth, the speed of a cavalry force hinged on the stamina of its weakest mounts. History’s legendary long-distance cavalry raids were achieved at the cost of countless horses—essentially running the weaker auxiliary mounts to death to preserve the battle steeds’ strength. Otherwise, how could a cavalry force exhausted after just two or three charges inflict significant damage?
For this Western Regions expedition, the Northern Liang Protectorate and Liuzhou Prefecture’s strategy required his force and another cavalry unit to jointly intercept Zhong Tan’s 10,000 riders, delaying the Mount Lantuo monks’ entry into Liuzhou’s Qingcang battlefield. Ultimately, this interception wasn’t about achieving major results but buying time for Yu Luandao’s isolated cavalry and the main Dragon-Elephant Army. It was a fight that seemed straightforward yet fraught with difficulty. The conservative approach would be to ignore the Mount Lantuo monk infantry and simply harass Zhong Tan’s vanguard, thereby fulfilling their mission. However, during their joint march, he proposed a far riskier plan—one that made their task exponentially harder. He expected the young officer nicknamed “Shorty Cao” to outright reject it, citing the “bigger picture,” but to his surprise, the Northern Liang cavalry commander, fighting alongside him for the first time, agreed without hesitation. Not only that, he volunteered for the more “suicidal” role, arguing that his larger force and greater experience made him better suited. This left Xie Xichui both amused and strangely moved. Back in Guangling Dao, he had grown accustomed to bearing all responsibilities alone, carrying the weight of tens of thousands of lives on his shoulders.
This battle, before it even began, felt unfamiliar.
Xie Xichui turned to survey the riders from the Linyao and Fengxiang garrisons, his hand instinctively gripping the newly acquired sixth-generation Xu Saber at his side.
Many details, like this saber, were things he only came to understand after joining the Northwestern frontier forces. For instance, a Liang saber was traditionally sharpened twice—once in the workshop and once on the battlefield, where it drank blood. Without the latter, it couldn’t truly be called a Liang saber.
Xie Xichui smiled wryly.
Northern Liang was harsh and impoverished, yet brimming with such peculiar traditions.
But he liked it. Very much.
His 6,000 riders were a motley crew—former bandit kings who once ruled the two garrisons, refugee youths fighting for household registration, and even Western Regions drifters recruited by a woman named Chai Dongdi.
Truth be told, like Xie Xichui himself, these men were greenhorns compared to the battle-hardened Northern Liang frontier veterans. The same went for their newly issued Liang sabers.
“Using Northern Mang skulls to blood your blade is no less thrilling than deflowering a pretty girl from Yanzhi County!”
The crude saying, its origin unknown, was something Xie Xichui—though a disciple of the refined Western Chu’s Cao Zhangqing—found oddly appealing.
Xie Xichui issued precise orders, dividing the 6,000 into three groups. The 2,500 most disciplined garrison riders would spearhead the charge against Zhong Tan’s forces outside Miyun Pass. If successful, the entire army would advance; if not, they’d hold their ground to prevent the Northern Mang cavalry from deploying, then retreat in stages, replaced by the 1,000 refugee riders, followed by Chai Dongdi’s 2,000. Xie Xichui himself would lead 500 elite Dragon-Elephant troops as reserves, ready to plug any breaches with their lives if necessary.
After parting ways with Cao Wei’s 10,000 riders, the latter had transferred most of their crossbows and cavalry bows to Xie Xichui’s force.
The ideal scenario would be Zhong Tan’s elite holding the rear while ordinary cavalry rushed out first, but Xie Xichui doubted the young Xia Nabozhong, who had risen to prominence over the corpses of Northern Liang soldiers at Hulu Pass, would be so careless.
Even if Zhong Tan proved unworthy of his reputation, Xie Xichui was confident he could reclaim any lost advantage on the battlefield.
Almost simultaneously with Zhong Tan inside the pass, Xie Xichui gave the same order: “Change horses! Armor up!”
※※※
After separating from Xie Xichui, Cao Wei’s 10,000 riders launched a lightning-fast, all-out charge, disregarding their horses’ stamina.
They bypassed Miyun Pass entirely, aiming to enter from a western approach, trapping themselves between Zhong Tan’s cavalry and the Mount Lantuo monks. Their gamble hinged on Xie Xichui holding the eastern exit long enough for Cao Wei to strike Zhong Tan’s rear.
Before parting, Cao Wei had joked half-seriously, “Xie, your surname may be Xie (thanks), but I, General Cao, am destined to become a man like the old Liang King Xu Xiao. This time, I’m tying my fate to your belt—don’t let me die young!”
Xie Xichui had merely nodded in response.
As the short-statured general galloped away, he raised his arm and flashed a thumbs-up—whether a personal gesture or some Northern Liang tradition, Xie Xichui couldn’t say.
The 10,000 riders surged forward like a collapsing mountain or tidal wave.
Cao Wei, lips cracked and bleeding, grinned fiercely and roared, “I’ll make Miyun Pass a battle as legendary as Lu Shengxiang’s snowy night raid on Luzhou or Chu Lushan’s thousand-ride charge into Shu! Cao Wei can die, but never in obscurity!”
※※※
Though Miyun Pass narrowed like a woman’s waist, it still allowed over 20 riders to charge abreast.
Earlier, Xie Xichui had spotted several Northern Mang scouts returning to the pass with reports.
The battle was imminent.
But Zhong Tan’s cavalry emerged faster and more ferociously than expected.
The 50 riders at the forefront of the Linyao-Fengxiang force were instantly scattered.
Though Northern Liang’s light crossbows and cavalry bows unleashed a deadly hail of arrows, felling 20-30 Northern Mang riders, the enemy’s momentum barely faltered.
Xie Xichui swiftly adjusted tactics, immediately ordering the 500 Dragon-Elephant elites to charge.
There weren’t enough corpses—friend or foe—to form natural barricades yet!
Xie Xichui halted half a mile from the pass, surrounded only by a few dozen bodyguards and six messengers.
He wasn’t a frontline warrior. Even during the battle that annihilated the veteran Yan Zhenchun’s army, he hadn’t drawn blood. Not for lack of courage, but because the mediocre fighter knew a live commander issuing precise orders was deadlier than any lone hero.
Xie Xichui didn’t just send the 500 elites to their deaths—he also ordered that any unhorsed survivors must slaughter their own mounts on the battlefield.
The pain in their eyes as they silently rode off haunted him.
As the 500 charged, Xie Xichui coldly instructed the retreating garrison riders to form a semicircle. If the elites faltered or dwindled to 50, they were to unleash a indiscriminate volley into the pass.
The garrison deputies hesitated but obeyed.
Xie Xichui then cleared a 20-rider-wide path at the semicircle’s apex for 1,000 refugee youths armed with concentrated spears.
Another 600 skilled archers were positioned ahead of the semicircle.
From horseback, Xie Xichui watched the impossibly narrow killing ground—soon to be a graveyard of men and beasts.
Though he couldn’t see inside the pass, he imagined the packed ranks of armored riders pressing forward like locusts or ants.
If intelligence failed and the Mount Lantuo monks had already joined Zhong Tan…
If Cao Wei arrived too late or exhausted…
If he couldn’t hold this passage…
Any single “if” would spell disaster for Liuzhou before the real battle even began.
Suddenly, Xie Xichui thought of that ever-smiling young man who’d advised him to “see more of the world” beyond Liangzhou’s borders.
Taking a deep breath, he whispered to himself, “You spared 500 scholars for Great Chu. How could I not repay you with my life?”
From this day forth, there would be no Great Chu General Xie Xichui—only Northern Liang Frontier Officer Xie Xichui.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage