Heading southward, the snow had almost entirely disappeared, save for the towering mountain peaks.
The biting chill of early spring cut to the bone.
The Northern Liang cavalry advanced another hundred and twenty miles southeast, effectively entering the Guangling Circuit. Though they were still some distance from the true battlefield—where the newly appointed Minister of War Wu Zhongxuan’s forces under the Liyang court were clashing with the main forces of Western Chu attempting to break westward—the increasing presence of Liyang scouts in the surrounding areas was enough for the Northern Liang cavalry to gauge the situation. Even the usually routine tasks of grooming and feeding the horses now carried an air of solemn tension.
At dawn, half an hour before the army was set to move, Xu Fengnian, the Northern Liang King temporarily acting as the commander of this elite cavalry, gathered all sixteen of his officers—including Yuan Zuo, Ning Emi, and Hong Shuwen—in a hastily erected tent. There were no tables inside, only a half-zhang-wide map of the Guangling Circuit hanging on the fabric wall. Key passes and cities were meticulously marked, with even the numbers of stationed troops recorded in precise vermilion script, accurate down to the hundreds.
Standing beside the map, Xu Fengnian still wore the famed saber *Guohezu*—taken from Jiang Fuding years ago—though he had removed his Liang sabers. Raising the weapon, he traced a route across the map, one that would surely shock the Liyang Ministry of War.
“Next, we’ll pass through Lühe County, then the two counties of Weishui and Baxia, officially entering the Guangling Circuit. Perhaps because we moved too slowly through Huaibei’s two provinces and then too quickly through Huainan, the imperial forces were caught off guard and couldn’t keep up. Otherwise, the Ji Province cavalry should have reached the mountainous terrain of Shanyin County two days ago to intercept us, using Wufang and Songyun as defensive strongholds while waiting for reinforcements. Once Xu Gong’s capital forces and local troops joined them, they’d hold this naturally advantageous line, forcing us to push another eighty miles south before turning east into Guangling. But that would mean colliding with the rapidly advancing Qingzhou forces. If we were delayed even slightly, the so-called twenty-thousand-strong Western Shu army would arrive in full force.”
Xu Fengnian paused, curling his lips slightly.
“Unfortunately, that Gu family’s son-in-law was a bit too slow. By now, Minister Xu Gong is probably cursing the Ji Province general to his face. But if I ever get the chance to stand before Xu Gong, I’d plead for the Ji Province general: *‘Damn it, Xu Gong, you’re dawdling on Ji Province’s right flank—why should our exhausted cavalry rush headlong into battle with the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry? Everyone knows the Snow Dragon Cavalry is unmatched on horseback, and even on foot, they’re no weaker than Youzhou’s infantry! We came to the Central Plains for glory, not to rush to our graves!’*”
Except for the ever-stoic Yuan Zuo, the tent erupted in laughter, especially from the veteran officers who had fought in the Spring and Autumn Wars. Many of them, though now holding high ranks in Northern Liang, had once been lowly soldiers who’d heard their own superiors boast about how the Great General would always mock the enemy before battle—even the legendary Ye Baikui of Western Chu, the so-called “Peerless Strategist of the Spring and Autumn,” hadn’t been spared during the grueling Battle of Xileibi.
When the laughter subsided, Xu Fengnian’s expression turned serious.
“Our Snow Dragon Cavalry still numbers over ten thousand, but we all know the truth of our current strength. In the Battle of Hulu Pass, where we annihilated Yang Yuanzan’s western forces, the Snow Dragon Cavalry earned the greatest merit—but our losses were far from light. Three thousand four hundred died on the battlefield, and another twelve hundred were forced to retire due to injuries. Out of ten thousand, barely half remain as seasoned veterans. I won’t mince words here—though the other two heavy cavalry divisions also suffered heavy casualties, I could replenish their ranks from the left and right cavalry of Liangzhou, or even from Youzhou’s elite cavalry and Lingzhou’s local garrisons. But for the Snow Dragon Cavalry? Not a single rider was taken from Lingzhou—not even from Youzhou! Every new recruit was handpicked through dual screening by Qingliang Mountain and the Protectorate. Every new officer’s battle record was personally reviewed by me. Only after my approval, followed by Chu Lushan and Yuan Zuo’s joint agreement, could they take their posts. Yet even so, compared to the Snow Dragon Cavalry that marched to Hulu Pass…”
A heavy silence fell over the tent. The officers, all battle-hardened veterans, felt an oppressive weight—not just from Xu Fengnian’s title as the Northern Liang King, nor from his reputation as a martial grandmaster or a terrestrial immortal, but from the personal authority he had steadily built through years of action.
To lead an army, one didn’t need to be a peerless warrior charging into battle. Xu Xiao had never been one, nor had Gu Jiantang—despite his status as a grandmaster—frequently fought on the frontlines during the Spring and Autumn Wars. Chen Zhibao was the same. Winning battles, enduring defeats—that was enough. And the young prince before them had never truly lost, whether on the battlefield, in court, or in the jianghu.
Well, except for one particular battlefield. Even Yan Wenluan and Chen Yunchui, when they occasionally overheard subordinates whispering about it, never reprimanded them. Instead, they’d exchange knowing smiles—the kind only grown men understood.
After a dramatic pause, Xu Fengnian declared solemnly, “It’s obvious—this current Snow Dragon Cavalry can still crush the Ji Province elite or the capital’s forces without breaking a sweat.”
This time, even Yuan Zuo couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
Xu Fengnian continued, “This time, I’ve brought you all to stir up trouble in the Guangling Circuit. Most Northern Liang civilians won’t know the truth, but those of you here have likely heard rumors. Well, what you’ve heard or guessed—it’s all true.”
Before anyone could react, Xu Fengnian’s voice turned grave.
“No matter what, if anyone has complaints—or even wants to curse me—save it for when we return to Northern Liang. Aside from Cai Nan’s Huaibei border forces, whom we’ll have to engage for appearances, my principle is to avoid battle whenever possible before facing Wu Zhongxuan’s northern army. Even if one Snow Dragon Cavalryman trades for a hundred imperial soldiers, it’s still a losing deal. Of course, if Xu Gong, Yuan Tingshan, and the like insist on blocking us, we’ll fight—and make sure they never dare to try again. Before that, there’s one more thing I must make clear: the real bloody battle will be against Wu Zhongxuan. Besides my personal mission to retrieve someone, you’ll also need to absorb a certain number of Western Chu ‘stragglers’—estimated between two to three hundred, mostly young men. They’ll appear as small bands of fleeing cavalry, and we’ll supply them with Northern Liang warhorses, light armor, and sabers, quickly integrating them into our ranks. After that, Commander Yuan will lead you away from the western front. I’ll rejoin you within a day at most.”
Xu Fengnian tapped the map sharply with his saber.
“Without surprises, Xu Gong’s capital forces and Yuan Tingshan’s Ji Province cavalry will converge here. Xu Gong will use the high-walled Chaisang County as his stronghold, while Che Ye’s Western Shu infantry and the Qingzhou army will position themselves behind and south of us, each with their own fortified cities. The enemy’s line forms a semicircle. Though the terrain on either side of Chaisang is flat, the crisscrossing waterways make it unsuitable for large cavalry movements—especially since the only wide official road has been destroyed by Chaisang’s authorities, with trenches dug every two hundred paces. A heavy spring rain would only worsen our advance. Reports indicate Xu Gong’s forces carry a large stock of heavy crossbows from the Ministry of War’s arsenal, along with seventeen hundred sets of heavy armor. Their four thousand archers and crossbowmen are clearly preparing to force us into dismounted combat while holding Chaisang. If we bypass Chaisang and stall on that road, we risk losing our mobility as cavalry. Ten thousand trapped troops against sixty thousand flexible enemies—led by one of Liyang’s top generals, Xu Gong—would be disastrous. So whether we attack Chaisang or not, both options are suboptimal.”
Hong Shuwen cautiously suggested, “Your Highness, judging by Chaisang’s terrain, if we detour north, we’d have to circle widely—and face another fortified city like Beigu. But if we change our route south, eliminate the Qingzhou forces before they reach Chaisang, and feign an advance into Jing’an Circuit, it could be interesting. The world knows Jing’an’s leaders—from Prince Zhao Xun to the Military Commissioner—all have grudges against Northern Liang. Even if Xu Gong realizes we’re shifting the battlefield, he can’t risk chaos in Jing’an and will be forced to follow our lead. Once they leave Chaisang, especially if the Ji Province cavalry and capital forces become disjointed, our opportunity arises. The only catch is our rear scouts must eliminate any trailing enemy scouts.”
Xu Fengnian feigned innocence. “Do I seem like the type to wage war over personal grudges?”
Hong Shuwen wisely kept silent.
Yuan Zuo was the first to smirk. “Don’t you?”
The officers exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.
Xu Fengnian, unfazed, grinned. “In that case, let’s commit to the act. Niu Qianzhu, take a thousand riders to intercept the Western Shu army. Spread the word that we’re here to ‘reminisce.’ Since the Central Plains already doubts we’re here to suppress rebels, this’ll confirm their suspicions.”
The burly, dark-skinned officer hesitated. “Your Highness, isn’t a thousand too few?”
After a moment’s thought, Xu Fengnian nodded. “Then Pang Jianrui will lead another thousand as support.”
Niu Qianzhu hastily waved his hands. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. This lowly officer’s never commanded more than two thousand. I just wanted to play general for once during this trip. Two thousand’s enough—or even just five hundred borrowed from Old Pang…”
His voice trailed off sheepishly.
Xu Fengnian raised a foot as if to kick him, and Niu Qianzhu ducked behind Pang Jianrui.
Pointing his scabbard at the officer, Xu Fengnian sighed. “Fine, two thousand it is. I’ll even lend you my Fengzi Battalion. Still not enough? Should I lend you Commander Yuan too?”
Niu Qianzhu chuckled awkwardly. “Commander Yuan’s too intimidating. Two thousand and Fengzi Battalion will do.”
But he couldn’t dodge Yuan Zuo’s kick.
The short but sturdy Pang Jianrui spoke up. “Your Highness, the Qingzhou cavalry was decimated in Zhao Xun’s failed rescue of Prince Zhao Ying in Huainan. Their eight thousand infantry now are hardly a threat. I volunteer to lead a thousand as vanguard.”
Niu Qianzhu panicked. “Old Pang! His Highness already promised your thousand to me!”
Pang Jianrui glared, and Niu Qianzhu shrank back. Despite his size—easily twice Pang’s—Niu Qianzhu always acted like a timid bride around him.
Then Yuan Zuo interjected coolly, “I’ll lead the vanguard. Five hundred is enough.”
Pang Jianrui scratched his head, not daring to argue with the commander. Every veteran of the Snow Dragon Cavalry knew of the decade-long siege of Xiangfan in Qingzhou, where Yuan Zuo—then the second-generation cavalry commander after Wu Qi and Xu Pu—had been forced to use his cavalry as infantry in brutal assaults, losing over seventy percent of his men. That sacrifice had paved the way for Chu Lushan’s legendary thousand-ride charge into Shu.
Xu Fengnian nodded, then tapped the map at two key points in the Guangling stalemate.
“After bypassing Xu Gong’s forces, the Western Chu cavalry we’re retrieving will break through here—thirty miles south of Guazizhou. The Wu army’s general there, Zhou Ran, commands twenty thousand troops and is no pushover. He’s cautious, excels in positional warfare, and never rushes blindly into battle. He has two thousand cavalry. Our main force will pause twenty miles northwest of Guazizhou, near the Xiangwei River. Zhou Ran will undoubtedly send scouts to monitor us. Worse, our arrival will prompt Wu Zhongxuan to shift his northern forces southward. General Yuan Jiade, though commanding fewer than ten thousand troops, has nearly half as cavalry—forty-five hundred riders. This unit was the vanguard of the Southern Border’s northern campaign and is no weakling. Yuan Zuo, you’ll lead the main force thirty miles east along the Xiangwei River, pressuring Zhou Ran’s position. Wang Boyuan, take two thousand to cut off Yuan Jiade’s cavalry from reinforcing Zhou Ran, feigning an all-out assault on Zhou Ran’s twenty thousand. Song Jinshan, lead a thousand to screen our right flank, three to four miles behind the center, focusing on Zhou Ran’s two thousand cavalry and clearing his southern scouts. If the Fengzi Battalion’s mission to retrieve the horsemen is exposed, or if Wu’s forces pursue, and Zhou Ran’s cavalry moves south to intercept, you must pin them down—buying time for Fengzi Battalion to secure the hundreds safely.”
Yuan Zuo and the two officers saluted in acknowledgment.
Then a scout arrived with urgent news, leaving Xu Fengnian and the officers both amused and exasperated.
They’d intercepted orders from Xu Gong’s scouts to the Qingzhou forces, commanding them to retreat to Huanglu Town on Jing’an’s northern border and forbidding any northward advance.
Xu Fengnian sighed. “If I’m not mistaken, Western Shu’s received similar orders. Xu Gong isn’t giving us room to bluff.”
He knew better than to celebrate intercepting one message—such orders would have been sent in multiples to ensure delivery.
But he soon smirked. “Western Shu might obey and withdraw, biding their time. But the illustrious Prince of Jing’an’s word carries more weight than a mere minister’s. That Qingzhou army might ignore Xu Gong’s ‘unreasonable’ command. Zhao Xun wages war not for victory, but to prove loyalty. Their commander, a trusted subordinate of the Jing’an Palace, surely has Zhao Xun’s secret orders: even if accused of reckless aggression leading to annihilation, never let the court think them cowards. Truly, this young prince lives up to his reputation as the court’s most virtuous vassal.”
Niu Qianzhu and the others looked puzzled—Central Plains politics mattered little to Northern Liang’s frontier warriors.
Only Yuan Zuo nodded coldly. “The Qingzhou army will likely insist on advancing. Zhao Xun’s nickname, ‘The Prince Who Sends Men to Die,’ will soon be well-earned.”
Song Jinshan, another veteran of Xiangfan, sighed. “I’ve heard the Qingzhou navy is a disgrace now, but last year’s flash of Qingzhou cavalry in Guangling showed their old spirit—regardless of skill, their bravery was reminiscent of the past. No matter how much we hated Qingzhou or Xiangfan back then, we respected their soldiers. What a waste, to be led by such a worthless prince.”
A brief silence followed before Xu Fengnian teased, “General Song, you’re not implying anything, are you?”
Song Jinshan spat on the ground without hesitation.
The brazen act startled Niu Qianzhu and the others.
Then the old general grinned broadly. “That little bastard Zhao Xun isn’t fit to polish Your Highness’s boots!”
Xu Fengnian clapped his shoulder heartily. “Truly one of Xu Xiao’s old soldiers—no nonsense in battle, and even your flattery hits hard!”
Song Jinshan’s face split into an exaggerated grin, shooting smug glances at the younger officers as if to say, *This is how you butter up your superiors—learn from the master!*
Xu Yanbing lifted the tent flap, and Xu Fengnian nodded to him.
Dismissing the officers, Xu Fengnian stepped outside with Xu Yanbing.
Frowning, he felt an ominous premonition.
A guest was coming from afar.
And approaching with terrifying speed.
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