Raindrops rolled along the curve of his saber, dripping steadily from the edge.
Hansen’s horse steamed in the rain. He had been waiting for a long time. It was now the third quarter of Hai hour, and the world had plunged into complete darkness.
Hansen’s hair was red. Unlike the men of Dazhou, who tied theirs into topknots, he had it cut short, loosely braided at the back of his head.
After Hu and Lu fell, Bayin had been reassigned to Hansen’s side. He rode behind, holding the reins, carefully stowing the precious military texts he cherished in his arms, and asked cautiously, “How can you be sure he won’t run?”
Hansen ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair, letting it clump messily, and said, “He was bold when fighting Hu and Lu. In Dazhou terms, he excels in trickery. I’ve heard he’s the youngest son of the Li Bei king—a wolf cub. Once he has the chance to counterattack, he’ll never choose to flee.”
Bayin said, “He is indeed bold and also cautious.”
“Compared to his older brother, Xiao Chiye is impulsive,” Hansen said, a hint of shyness in his tone. “I may not be a genius, but I understand the pride of one. He toppled our mighty Hu and Lu at Sha Three Camp. No matter how he warns himself, he loses some caution. His desire to win is too strong. Bayin, I can feel it—he won’t allow himself any retreat. That is both his strength and his weakness.”
Bayin stroked his horse silently. “Will we win?”
“We will definitely win,” Hansen said, eyes bright, radiating authority. “He cannot beat me.”
Hansen’s style mirrored Xiao Chiye’s: wild and aggressive. Qizhu Yin and Lu Guangbai had suffered under him before, but his personality contrasted sharply with Xiao Chiye’s. He was reserved, steady, even shy; the beautiful girls of Bian Sha admired him, yet he would blush simply under their gaze. He was Amur’s favorite son, not only due to his mother’s clan but also his temperament.
Xiao Fangxu liked raising little wolves, testing his sons harshly, while Amur was the opposite. Until adulthood, Hansen never left his father’s side; every battle he fought early on had Amur’s direct guidance.
“You’re a genius too,” Bayin said belatedly.
Hansen laughed, wiping his saber. “No, Bayin, I’m ordinary. I just found my path fighting geniuses. Before heading north, I worried about meeting Xiao Jiming here. He and Qizhu Yin are the same type of commander—defensive tacticians. Not ordinary defense, but one that leaves the opponent unable to find a weakness. But Xiao Chiye… he’s different. He’s…,” Hansen searched for the right word, then laughed again. “I can’t quite describe it. But clearly he has many flaws and doesn’t hide them.”
“That’s pride,” Bayin said, nudging Hansen on the shoulder with her fist. “You are our new Da Rosu and Ri, the eagle of the desert, the future of Duoran’s husband. No matter your humility, Hansen, in our eyes you are the god-sent genius of the Viper Division. You are not inferior to anyone.”
“Thank you,” Hansen replied. “My friend… you should have been by my side long ago.”
They exchanged a smile, but suddenly a few sharp whistles pierced the night. Hansen tilted his head to the sky; the raindrops now fell softly on his brow. He patted his horse and looked toward the west of Tudalong Banner. “It’s time to close the net.”
Hansen’s elite forces hadn’t yet engaged. In front of Xiao Chiye were only the ordinary troops stationed east of Tudalong Banner. Furthermore, Hansen’s main force in the eastern mountains pinned Chaohui, preventing reinforcements. The routes to the battlefield were blocked—Tudalong Banner had become a trap, a pocket enclosing Xiao Chiye.
Xiao Chiye had no retreat. Hansen had readied his reserves to the east. Even if Xiao Chiye tried to flee, Hansen would pursue relentlessly, turning any exposed flank into a hunting ground.
Hooves thundered again, torches blazing, pressing from the east. The exhausted imperial guards could only fall back. The rain had stopped, but the cold intensified; even Dantai Hu cupped his frozen hands for warmth.
Xiao Chiye waded through mud, soldiers’ labored breathing behind him, needing to retreat into the swamps of Tudalong Banner. Hansen seized the moment: his troops were well-fed from the day, riding hard without giving the imperial guards time to withdraw. Small guard units tried to hide in brush and grass, but Hansen’s scouts probed thoroughly, leaving no cover.
Gu Jin’s ears pricked; he quickly recognized the sound of approaching hooves.
Xiao Chiye wiped his cheek, glancing into the blackness. Flames suddenly illuminated the horizon. Hansen’s cavalry descended like eagles on the move, wings spread wide, swooping as if gliding straight at him.
“Master,” Gu Jin led his horse forward, “you go first!”
“Mount and ride north,” Xiao Chiye said, standing firm. “Relay the situation, have them fall back into the swamps. Tell Dantai Hu to avoid fighting and retreat immediately.”
The Bian Sha cavalry pressed closer; Xiao Chiye even heard the hot breath of their horses. Gu Jin hesitated, then obeyed. Xiao Chiye reassured him: “I have hundreds here. Fighting while retreating is no problem. Once we’re back in the swamps, we’ll plan further.”
Gu Jin knew Xiao Chiye would not change his order. He mounted and spurred forward into the night.
Hansen spotted the figures. His cavalry sounded the alarms, encircling like predators hunting a beast in the desert. No banners were needed; the signals spread swiftly from center to wings. The wings turned, converging into a straight arrow aimed at Xiao Chiye.
Speed was paramount.
Hansen knew hesitation would be fatal. He had to deal with Xiao Chiye immediately; otherwise, once he reached the swamps, the respite might invite another ambush.
“That’s him!” Bayin shouted, pointing at Xiao Chiye in Bian Sha. “Xiao Chiye!”
Hansen drew his saber and crouched. He didn’t need Bayin’s reminder—he recognized Xiao Chiye instantly. His stature, appearance, and the tense glance back were unmistakably like Xiao Fangxu.
Xiao Chiye tightened his wet handwrap. His gaze caught Hansen’s red hair, momentarily distracted. He measured the distance. As Hansen’s horse neared a snare, Hansen shifted, cutting the hidden rope in the grass.
The pursuing cavalry surged forward.
They swung their sabers, but Xiao Chiye didn’t falter. Bian Sha hooves sank into traps, toppling many. Hansen had anticipated this—the slight pause had been a probe.
Xiao Chiye signaled; the imperial guards leaped from the underbrush, launching themselves.
Hansen’s horse huffed steam; he blew the whistle again. The shallow traps could be crossed, and they followed directly behind Xiao Chiye.
Hansen’s target was clear: Xiao Chiye. Kill him, and the scattered guards would be leaderless; the supplies in Tudalong Banner’s swamps would fall into their hands.
Xiao Chiye charged through the mud. A cavalryman rode alongside, shouting in Bian Sha tongue. Xiao Chiye vaulted, squatting to dodge a saber swing, slicing the enemy’s saddle. The startled horse bolted. He grabbed the rider’s arm, not cutting, and leveraged his weight to remount. The rider fell, mud splashing.
The hooked cavalry horse changed hands, shaking its head, refusing to run. Hansen closed in. Xiao Chiye pressed his horse close, pulling the reins, forcing the mount into a diagonal collision.
Hansen pursued too eagerly. As the horses collided, mud splashed. The wolfish blade slashed toward Hansen’s chest; the force was fierce, and Hansen braced fully.
So heavy!
Hansen’s arms sank; the saber nearly slipped from his grip under Xiao Chiye’s strength. He immediately realized the power behind Xiao Chiye’s strike, evading the blade rather than clashing head-on.
The remaining cavalry pressed on. Xiao Chiye’s mount grew restless. They reached out, slicing the horse’s forelegs. The animal screamed, collapsing into the mud.
Xiao Chiye rolled off, already surrounded.
Bian Sha cavalry formed a circle around him. The fleeing imperial guards cursed, shouting, “Damn, the governor’s down!”
The imperial guards yet to enter Tudalong Banner immediately turned, drawing their swords to cut into the cavalry. Following Xiao Chiye’s instructions, they hacked at horse legs to unseat the enemy. Bian Sha cavalry struggled on the ground—this was their weakness.
But these were northern troops accustomed to fighting Li Bei cavalry.
Hansen, trained against Dazhou’s best infantry, faced opponents like Lu Guangbai. Xiao Chiye’s ambush experience came from Lu Guangbai. Hansen’s elite troops feared no fall; on foot, they confronted the guards calmly, attacking immediately upon rising.
Damn!
The undefeated imperial guards cursed in unison.
These guys… are even stronger than us!