Zhao Hui had originally thought that Qi Zhuyin had brought reinforcements from Qidong. But when he looked behind her, he saw only a few dozen personal guards and could not help asking in confusion, “Marshal… this is…?”
“I didn’t come to fight for you,” Qi Zhuyin said as she wrapped cloth around her right palm, preventing blood from soaking the hilt and making it slippery. “I came to use you to fight. From this moment on, you and this brother are demoted on the spot. I will temporarily take command of the First Battalion.”
The moment those words fell, not only Zhao Hui but even Guo Weili froze. Then Guo Weili objected, “That won’t do!”
Though Qidong and Libei had long maintained friendly relations—and in the fourth year of Xiande had jointly repelled the Biansha cavalry, reclaiming the six prefectures of Zhongbo—their boundaries were always clearly defined. Calling her “Marshal” did not mean they would accept her command.
Qi Wei pulled a token from the pouch at his waist and tossed it to Guo Weili. Guo caught it, flipped it over—and his eyes widened. It was Xiao Jiming’s waist token.
The southeastern parapet had already been smashed apart, and the remaining gaps were filled with single-arm trebuchets. Though called “cannons,” they were essentially catapults, using leather slings to hurl stones with manpower—far weaker than the siege engines Hasen had brought.
Hasen’s infantry advanced under iron shields, pushing forward despite the danger of falling stones, forced to slow their pace.
Zhao Hui saw Qi Zhuyin had already drawn her ghost-headed saber and hurried after her. “The First Battalion only has eight thousand men left. Hasen still has about ten thousand cavalry. Marshal, are you planning to hold out until reinforcements arrive? The Second Battalion has already fallen—it will take at least until the day after tomorrow…”
“Why are you worrying like an old woman?” Qi Zhuyin said. “These walls are four zhang thick. Even if the parapets are destroyed, they won’t fall easily. You have plenty of fire oil—and two…” She spotted the heavy bed crossbows and brightened. “Two bed crossbows forged in Qidong.”
“We don’t have enough heavy bolts,” Zhao Hui said urgently, realizing she intended to ride out. “Once fired, we can’t retrieve them. Our supplies won’t last until tomorrow. Marshal, why are you bringing out Zhujiu? If you just give the order from the wall, we can hold!”
Qi Zhuyin’s blade was called Zhujiu. Blocked by Zhao Hui, she said, “Hasen’s ten-thousand force is carrying equipment they didn’t have before. To maintain speed, they must reduce rations. That means they can’t sustain a prolonged fight. If you hold your ground, they’ll withdraw.”
She stepped back slightly and raised her voice. “But if you miss tonight, you’ll never get another chance like this. Hasen is using you as a whetstone, sharpening his recruits on the reputation of your ‘Iron Wall.’ Don’t be fools—this so-called Iron Wall is nothing but a fig leaf. Taking a beating like this doesn’t make you iron cavalry.”
Guo Weili clenched the token tighter. Zhao Hui felt the tension rise.
Qi Zhuyin pointed toward the southeastern gate, madness blazing in her eyes. She turned to Guo Weili and said, “Don’t you want to come out and play with me?”
On the southern battlefield, Hasen faced Lu Guangbai. The border garrison was like an immovable rock, wedged into the breach. No matter how fiercely the Biansha cavalry attacked, they did not yield an inch.
But Hasen knew the name Qi Zhuyin even better. He had already fought her during the “Wind Sweeps the Wild Plains” raid.
To him, Qi Zhuyin was two different people.
The one commanding from the tent and the one charging on horseback with a blade were completely different. She could switch seamlessly between strategist and battlefield general. Unlike the steady Lu Guangbai, she adapted fluidly, using any advantage to wear down her enemies—otherwise she could never have achieved the feat of burning thirteen Biansha camps.
She was unpredictable.
The gates remained shut as the iron shields advanced within five hundred paces. They protected not only the soldiers, but also the battering ram—mounted with a massive log, capable of smashing open gates.
Hasen raised his hand. His cavalry was ready to charge.
The ram struck. Cracks spread across the gate.
“Fire!” Zhao Hui shouted from the wall.
Jars shattered, and fire oil cascaded down. Flames erupted instantly, racing across the Biansha infantry like venomous snakes. Even iron shields could not stop the fire. Screams filled the air, along with the stench of burning flesh.
The gate suddenly lifted.
Behind it stood warhorses—and the Libei Iron Cavalry clad in armor.
Qi Zhuyin rode light, gripping Zhujiu, and burst forward like a shooting star.
Hoofbeats thundered like rolling thunder. The cavalry surged behind her, trampling shields and charging straight toward the Biansha cavalry.
The scimitar elites fell back. The “Scorpions” advanced, wielding heavy hammers. These were the soldiers who had once crushed Libei cavalry helmets with brute force.
Zhao Hui watched from the wall, heart pounding wildly.
A hammer swung down—
—but a blade cut in from the side.
Qi Zhuyin gripped her saber with both hands, using her horse’s momentum to deflect the hammer and slam the rider off his mount.
At the same moment, the heavy cavalry pulled back in perfect formation—then split apart.
From the gaps surged riders wielding sabers—
Not light cavalry, but Libei cavalry who had shed their heavy armor.
Guo Weili had never felt so light. All his pent-up frustration exploded as he roared and cut down a Scorpion. Blood sprayed as he charged forward, hands trembling with exhilaration.
“Damn it—” he gasped, almost in tears. “Marshal—this feels amazing!”
Even Zhao Hui felt his eyes sting.
Qi Zhuyin laughed loudly. As her horse reared, she raised Zhujiu high and drove it down into an enemy.
Were they no longer Libei Iron Cavalry without heavy armor?
Perhaps.
But they were Xiao family cavalry—adaptable, deadly.
On the open plains, they had been at a disadvantage. But now, forced into a siege, the enemy had to come to them.
Qi Zhuyin exhaled, her gaze locking onto Hasen across the battlefield—cold, ruthless.
Hasen valued his Scorpions. He had to react.
But every move he made, Qi Zhuyin countered. She held the initiative, controlling the battle without pursuit.
Come on.
Her eyes taunted him.
She even gave him a mocking smile, flicking blood from her blade.
“Retreat,” Hasen ordered decisively.
But withdrawing with equipment slowed them down.
Qi Zhuyin led a brief pursuit, harassing from behind—like teasing prey.
Guo Weili wanted to continue, but she grabbed him by the collar. “Back. Leave the camp and we fall into the same trap again. Hasen won’t run forever.”
Guo Weili obeyed, still excited. “Marshal, next time we fight in the plains like this, Hasen will be nothing!”
“In open battle, he wouldn’t charge—he’d encircle you,” Qi Zhuyin said thoughtfully. “But tonight… his new tactics still need refinement.”
Suddenly, a whistle sounded.
“Marshal—more troops are approaching!” Qi Wei reported.
Through the heavy snow, a group of infantry trudged forward, exhausted but tightly coordinated. At the sound of hooves, they instantly dropped into ambush formation.
They were once the Border Garrison—the finest ambush infantry in the world.
Qi Zhuyin dismounted and faced their leader.
The man removed his face covering, revealing a stubbled face, breathing heavily. He had been gone a long time—so long it felt like another lifetime.
He smiled faintly, voice hoarse with exhaustion.
“Marshal… I’m the reinforcements.”
It was Lu Guangbai—the one who had once defected.