Bianbo Camp was an important supply base near the northern front line. To ensure that the troops at the front maintained their strength, Xiao Jiming had successively established Sha First, Sha Second, and Sha Third Camps to the southeast of Libei, forming a protective screen for Bianbo Camp. The camp stored large quantities of military rations and equipment year-round, and also housed stables—its warhorses reserved as replacements for those at the front.
Before dawn had fully broken, Wu Ziyu was already awake. He squatted at the entrance of his tent, letting his personal guard pour water over his head as he said, “The fighting at the front has been too fierce. The moment you open your eyes, you’re running; the moment you close them, you collapse. I haven’t bathed in half a month.”
The guard handed him a cloth, and Wu Ziyu wiped his face.
“Let’s eat something decent these next two days. In three days, we head north again to relieve Guo Weili’s troops. Even Tudalong Banner has been raided by those Biansha baldies—the battle has already reached our doorstep.”
Wu Ziyu was the youngest general currently among Libei’s officers. He had originally served as a palace guard, but after causing trouble while drunk, he had been dismissed by Xiao Jiming and reassigned to the army. He was not particularly skilled in combat, but he excelled at escorting supplies and managing provisions. Before spring, when Libei faced a grain shortage, he had tricked a batch of supplies out of Zhongbo bandits, easing the urgent need at the front.
When Chen Yang came to Libei to deliver provisions, the one he met was Wu Ziyu. Over the past two months, Wu Ziyu had been running nonstop under Xiao Fangxu, nearly breaking his legs. Now that he had finally rotated back to Bianbo Camp for rest, the soldiers under his command were already utterly exhausted.
“We thought that once the Prince arrived, driving out the Hanshe Tribe would be easy,” the guard said, taking Wu Ziyu’s dirty cloth and rinsing it in a basin. “Who knew it would only get harder? The defensive line has already fallen back to the edge of Sha First Camp. If this keeps up, Bianbo Camp will have to relocate further back.”
Wu Ziyu wiped his neck with the damp cloth. Bare-chested, he looked toward the east and said, “If Bianbo Camp retreats, the Heir’s entire deployment in the southeast collapses. This place is the foundation that allows the three Sha Camps to keep fighting normally. We cannot lose it.”
The guard poured out the water and said, “We can’t afford to drag this out either. Forget the soldiers—even the military craftsmen in these camps need to eat. If the Second Young Master hadn’t rebelled and had just stayed in Qu Du as a marquis, fighting like this might be bearable. But now that he’s killed the emperor, Juexi no longer supplies grain, and the reserves along the northeastern grain-and-horse route won’t last much longer.”
Wu Ziyu draped a cloth over his head, squinting up at the sky through the dripping water, saying nothing in response to the complaint.
The guard set down the basin and said, “General, for breakfast let’s have steamed buns and milk tea. The milk was just transported from the rear—good stuff, but it won’t keep. We should drink it soon. I’ll have the cook brew coarse tea and skim a thick layer of cream on top—you—”
Wu Ziyu raised a finger, signaling him to be quiet.
Amid the surrounding clamor of splashing water and footsteps, he listened carefully, staring at the sky. There was no whistle from the falcon patrol today. After a moment, he asked, “Did the patrol team from last night return?”
The guard, who was washing his feet, looked up at the sky as well and said, “Not yet. Coming back from Sha Third Camp takes at least until mid-morning.”
“Then why haven’t I heard the falcon patrol’s whistle?”
“We didn’t release them,” the guard said hesitantly. “We were too exhausted when we arrived last night and didn’t report it immediately. The hawks we brought back this time were all injured—badly mauled by Biansha falcons during the fighting. Even ‘Hou’ lost a wing. The falconers treasure them like children. Now that we’re back here, we’ve suspended today’s patrol to let the physicians treat their wounds.”
Hawks were not easy to raise. Training them required immense patience, and those fit to serve as scouts were one in a hundred. Though they were not prized sea eagles, they were just as precious. With Xiao Fangxu fighting at the front, both men and hawks were struggling. In Libei, horses and hawks were comrades; the iron cavalry shared deep bonds with them. Injury to either weighed heavily on everyone.
Wu Ziyu tossed aside the cloth and whistled sharply. A hawk swooped down from atop the tent. Since Wu Ziyu was bare-chested, it did not land on him but perched on the clothes rack instead.
“Release my Chi,” Wu Ziyu said. “In wartime, skipping falcon patrol is like losing an eye. Even here at Bianbo Camp, we cannot be careless.”
The guard hesitated. “Chi has already been patrolling the battlefield for half a month, General…”
“There’s no choice,” Wu Ziyu said. Though his voice was rough, his gaze on the hawk was gentle. “Go.”
Chi spread its wings, circling above Bianbo Camp briefly before shooting into the morning light to the east.
Wu Ziyu entered the tent bare-chested, giving instructions as he went. “The warhorses we brought down also need to be rotated. The reserve mounts must be sent north in three days. Guo Weili’s defenses at Tudalong Banner were breached by the Hanshe Tribe—many of his men were killed, and quite a few horses got stuck in the marsh. He’s already sent three urgent reports asking for reinforcements.”
The guard slipped on his shoes and followed. “Preparations were made at dawn, but this is our last batch of horses. It’s not yet autumn—new warhorses from within the realm haven’t arrived.”
“I’ll speak with him,” Wu Ziyu said, pulling on his clothes.
Guo Weili had been personally promoted by Xiao Jiming. He was capable in battle but best suited to serving under Xiao Jiming. Xiao Jiming’s supply system was like an iron chain—it could rein him in whenever he got carried away, preventing catastrophic losses. Guo Weili respected him deeply. Now that command had shifted to Xiao Fangxu, the tactics had changed. Without someone to restrain him, he suffered more setbacks.
When Wu Ziyu withdrew from the front, he had brought back a batch of damaged equipment in need of repair. The Libei iron cavalry depended heavily on equipment and logistics, so there were over ten thousand military craftsmen scattered across the camps. Once war began, they worked day and night repairing gear.
Wu Ziyu’s own armor was badly worn. He went to inspect the craftsmen’s tents, asking several times along the way about Chi, but there was no news of its return. By midday, sparks flew from the furnaces, and the heat inside was suffocating.
It was unbearably hot—so hot it made people drowsy. Even the wind outside the tents was scorching. Wu Ziyu, drenched in sweat, stared at the ground. The heat was like a steamer, and many craftsmen were already suffering from heatstroke. He ordered cold water to be splashed, but it was only a drop in the bucket.
“Tell the kitchen to boil mung beans—boil as much as we have,” Wu Ziyu said, pressing a cool cloth to his face. “Equipment repairs can’t be delayed. The Prince is still wearing damaged armor at the front.”
The guard nodded, loosening his collar in the heat, not wearing armor. Just as he turned to go, a few drops of water fell onto his face. Puzzled, he said, “Is it raining…?”
Wu Ziyu felt moisture on his neck too—but it was sticky. He looked up and saw Chi bursting through the blazing sun, plummeting downward. Before it could reach the ground, two falcons lunged out midair, seizing it and dragging it back up. Chi let out a shrill cry as feathers scattered.
Wu Ziyu sprang to his feet. From the distant watchtower came a shout:
“Enemy attack—!”
The drums thundered, pounding into Wu Ziyu’s chest. He immediately ordered, “Armor up! This is a raid by the Youying Tribe—not the Hanshe cavalry. Do not panic!”
Tent flaps flew open in unison. From dressing to donning armor, the Libei iron cavalry moved with flawless precision. Step by step, they transformed from men into steel encased in heavy armor, swift and orderly.
“Squad Six—guard the stables! Squad Three—guard the granaries! If the vanguard under my command falls, Bianbo Camp will be lost. If the situation turns critical, do not wait—release the horses at once and lead the craftsmen along the horse route to the northeastern supply line. Chaohui’s three camps at Liuyang are still there,” Wu Ziyu said. In the brief pause between his words, he saw Chi’s bloodied body hit the ground. He froze for a heartbeat, then turned away sharply, grabbing his guard. “If Bianbo Camp falls, the horses and craftsmen can escape—but the grain cannot. If necessary, burn it all. Not a single grain must fall into Youying’s hands! Head back—within the realm, the Heir is still holding the line!”
Under normal circumstances, when the situation worsened, the commanding general should withdraw with the troops, leaving a vanguard to delay the enemy. But Wu Ziyu knew this raid was no small force. For the Biansha to bypass Sha Third Camp and reach Bianbo Camp, there were only two possibilities: either they had taken a hidden shortcut and slipped through undetected—or Xiao Fangxu and Zuo Qianqiu had already been killed, the front line completely collapsed, and Sha Third Camp had been wiped out before it could even send word.
Either way, the enemy could not be underestimated. Wu Ziyu dared not entrust this to others—he had to hold the line himself.
As he moved through the ranks fastening his helmet, Wu Ziyu shouted, “Where is the attack coming fr—”
Before he could finish, a massive boulder, as large as a man’s embrace, crashed down from the sky, smashing into the middle of a newly built watchtower. The tower collapsed without even a chance to creak, crushing a swath of tents.
“Catapults!” the guard shouted from behind. “General—they came around from the south!”
“Damn bandits!” Wu Ziyu spat. “Mount up! They brought heavy equipment—they can’t move fast. They wouldn’t dare make noise coming around. Without Gouma’s small horses, they won’t get away!”
But from the stables came the frantic whinnying of horses, mixed with the clash of curved blades and the flare of fire. The enemy had the same idea as Wu Ziyu—kill what they couldn’t take, burn what they couldn’t carry. Without these warhorses, Guo Weili’s stationed forces would lose their ability to fight.
“Damn your mother…” Wu Ziyu gripped his blade tightly. “Have Squad Six take the horses out first!”
The guard leapt onto his horse, charging toward the stables engulfed in flames. Suddenly, the saddle dipped—something was wrong. The horse reared, having been attacked. Clinging to its belly like a spider was a Biansha soldier, who drew a dagger and stabbed upward.
The blade scraped against armor, leaving only a white mark—it did not pierce through.
The horse crashed back down. The guard rolled off and clashed with the enemy. The heavy armor of the Libei cavalry slammed into the Biansha soldier, forcing him back, but human armor was not as strong as a horse’s. The guard beheaded him—only to be struck himself.
The Biansha soldiers swarmed like locusts, surrounding the trapped Libei cavalry in desperate combat. Wu Ziyu’s helmet was knocked off as he was encircled. Flames spread through the stables, consuming horses that had not yet escaped—their screams were soaked in blood, piercing his ears.
He was not a battle-hardened commander, and his troops were mainly logistical reserves. Having only recently withdrawn from the front, their exhausted bodies could not withstand such a fierce assault. Worse, he had to divide his forces to protect the craftsmen, just as vital as the horses.
The guard managed to mount again, smashing through the burning stable fence. The warhorses burst out in a stampede.
“Get the craftsmen onto horses! Remove their armor—head to the horse route!” Wu Ziyu shouted.
Before his words finished, a heavy weight struck his back. Two men forced him down and slammed him to the ground. His unprotected head hit hard, and in the next instant, a rope tightened around his neck. Two men dragged him away.
Gasping, his voice breaking as the rope constricted, Wu Ziyu still shouted hoarsely toward his guard’s retreating figure, “When you reach… cough—reach the camp… tell Chaohui to head north…”
Sweat ran into his eyes, stinging so badly he could barely see. Through the smoke and dust, he struggled to breathe, watching the sky turn yellow. Above, the falcons that had torn Chi apart circled overhead.
“Damn…” Grief surged up within him. Tears blurred his vision as he kept muttering, “…damn it!”
Dragged to the edge of the fire, surrounded by the chaos of hooves, Wu Ziyu slammed against a rock. He hooked onto a railing, pain searing through him as flames licked his body.
Suddenly, the circling falcons scattered. A piercing eagle cry split the wind as a hawk dove from the sky, locking onto a falcon midair. The two clashed fiercely. At the same time, the sound of galloping horses thundered closer. Through the smoke, Wu Ziyu could only make out a tall figure steady on horseback.
His heart jolted. He shouted, “My lord!”
His ankle tightened as Chen Yang’s voice rang out, “Drag him out!”
The rope constricted his throat further. Wu Ziyu croaked, “Drag—drag what! My neck—my neck’s still tied!”
Chen Yang immediately released his grip and swung his blade down at Wu Ziyu’s neck, severing the rope in a single stroke. Wu Ziyu’s hair stood on end as he was hauled out. Rolling to smother the flames, he gasped for air, lifting his head. Against the sunlight, he saw the rider dismount and raise a hand to his lips, letting out a long whistle.
Meng swooped down, shaking off the falcon it had been fighting. Its feathers were disheveled, and the falcon cried in pain. Meng’s talons struck like blades as it pinned the falcon to the ground, then strode forward to Xiao Chiye and flung it down.
“It’s not my father,” Xiao Chiye said, lifting his arm to let Meng perch, glancing back at Wu Ziyu. “It’s your Second Young Master.”