Blade Edge

Rouhui's garrison belonged to the Beiyang Army. By the time Ji Baiyue's reinforcements arrived, Xu Hu was already wounded.

"When will the Prince arrive?" Xu Hu, as Xu Qingniang applied medicine to his wounds, said to Ji Baiyue, "You should persuade the Prince not to come."

"Naturally, he won't come." Ji Baiyue checked his quiver. "Great Yuan's attack on Rouhui isn't a major issue; with you here, I don't think they can pass. I'm afraid the main focus isn't on Rouhui."

Shangjin is now separated from Beiyang and is a trade route. Setting other things aside, if Shangjin were attacked, the Beiyang Army wouldn't be able to provide support. They would have to wait for official documents from the Capital, otherwise Xin Yi would be suspected of mobilizing troops without authorization. Therefore, compared to Rouhui, Shangjin is the easier place to attack.

"Feigning a move to the east while attacking in the west." Xu Hu winced in pain. "Wife, be gentler!" He then said to Ji Baiyue, "This doesn't seem like Arslang's style."

"It's not yet time for the Lion King to emerge." Ji Baiyue reached up and brushed his hair from his forehead, his refined face gaining a wild edge. He said, "Previously, the Prince insisted I remain in Lijin because he feared the Prince of Tang would take advantage of Sun Baiping's rebellion to encircle the Beiyang Army. Unexpectedly, Great Yuan made the first move. I'll just tell you, even if we gather in Shangjin now, the Beiyang Army only has about 210,000 men. We need to fight Great Yuan, keep the Prince of Tang in mind, and also guard against the treachery of the Capital. I only worry that we lack sufficient strength."

There was another reason he didn't voice: the heir had only recently been enfeoffed, and the army's prestige was unstable. Furthermore, they had to play dumb with the Capital and the Prince of Tang, unable to speak much, and needing those close to them to issue commands. With the current urgent situation, it might be even harder to guard against every contingency.

"The two of us must hold Rouhui." Outside, the provocative horn calls were incessant. Ji Baiyue stood up and slung his heavy crossbow over his back. "Even if it costs the lives of the Rouhui Tiger and the Wind-Breaking Arrow, we cannot let Great Yuan pass through here."

Having said that, he turned, pushed aside the curtain, and ascended the city wall.

Below the city, 30,000 iron cavalry stood stark against the snow, their fierce aura assaulting them.

Chiye reluctantly nudged Bai Jiu's palm. Xin Yi leaned down, grasped Bai Jiu's hand, and said, "You take Chiye."

Xin Yi was heading to Shangjin, and Bai Jiu had to go to Qingping. With their separation imminent, neither spoke a farewell first.

Bai Jiu clasped his hand in return. "Chou Deyao feels guilty towards you and definitely won't refuse. Moreover, with the nation's safety at stake, the Crown Prince wouldn't dare to make any rash moves against you. Just keep your eyes on yourself." Finally, he added, "Do you understand?"

Xin Yi nodded. "I remember. When you go to Qingping, be extremely careful if you encounter Yan Jueshu. This person is unusual and involved in many things. Although I don't yet know his true intentions, I understand that he harbors absolutely no goodwill towards you."

"Naturally." Bai Jiu smiled, then lowered his head and lightly tapped Xin Yi's fingertips. "All my affection is right here."

Behind them, Wu Yu coughed heavily. This time, Xin Yi didn't blush, but only felt a lingering unease. Xianglan's tragic state was still fresh in his mind, and neither the Prince of Tang nor Yan Jueshu could escape responsibility. The thought of Bai Jiu going alone to contend with these two made him incredibly reluctant to part.

"Go." Bai Jiu released his hand, stepped back, his narrow eyes gentle. "I'll wait for you in Qingping."

Xin Yi showed him a dimple, then suddenly urged his horse forward. Chiye galloped north, brushing past Bai Jiu.

Shangjin had no snow today, not even wind. Under the silent night sky, the Great Lan flag hung low at the flagpole, listless. It was already midnight, yet there were still few people on the road. No one knew where the usual trade caravans had gone; the usual bustling scene was nowhere to be seen.

Old soldiers, in groups of two or three, huddled behind the city wall, secretly drinking.

"Where did everyone go today?" One of them wiped his mouth and said, "It's ghostly quiet; that leather shop at the end of the road has no business."

"Maybe the heavy snow in Lijin blocked the roads." Another took the wine, tilted his head back for a swig, and smacked his lips. "Did they water down his wine again? It barely has any taste." He added, "Didn't the roads often get blocked in previous years too?"

"But it was never like this." The first man who passed the wine scratched his head. "I just feel like something's wrong."

Another chuckled, scolding, "You're always worrying unnecessarily. What could be wrong? At worst, Great Yuan attacks us." He then wiped the mouth of his wine gourd and said, "If they're going to attack, they'll attack Rouhui first."

The group laughed about this for a while, even making up some amusing stories about Xu Hu. After a bit, one of them felt the urge to urinate, so he stood up, stumbled a few steps onto the city wall, and unzipped his pants towards a corner.

As a sparse stream of water splashed into the corner, he looked out. Outside, snow slopes undulated, and tonight's moonlight was bright, dazzling his eyes for a moment. He gasped, closed his eyes to recover, and when he opened them again, he distantly saw a tiny dot, like a bean, running out from the snow.

"What kind of beast is that, in the middle of winter..." Before he could finish, a tide surged behind that tiny dot. The sound of hooves was like crashing waves; how could it be a beast? It was clearly cavalry! He froze, wide-eyed with horror, then hastily pulled up his pants, turned around, and shouted, "Enem—"

An eagle from the sky suddenly swooped down, viciously clawing and pecking at his face. His words were cut short by a scream; the man cried out in pain, stumbled to the ground, and lost an eye from the attack.

Enemy attack!

The warning cry failed to rouse the surroundings. The dry wind blew, and the Great Lan flag at the flagpole trembled, unfurling halfway. Before it could fully unfurl, a sharp arrow pinned it to the pole.

Great Yuan's iron ox horn blared abruptly, followed by the city gate's shaking. Completely unprepared, it was easily battered open by Great Yuan warriors carrying heavy logs!

The old soldiers who had been drinking earlier were so shocked they dropped their wine gourds. They turned and ran in a panic, shouting loudly, "Enemy attack! Enemy attack! To the city wall! Ring the alarm bell!"

The iron cavalry fiercely leapt through the breached city gate. The Great Yuan men shouted a few words in their language, and their horses charged directly at the old soldiers. The gleaming scimitars shone with a chilling light as if honed, and in the blink of an eye, heads fell. Cavalry following closely behind surged in, swinging their blades. Severed heads rolled under hooves, and wine gourds were trampled into fragments.

Chou Deyao was shaken awake from his dream. Before his anger could flare, someone knelt by his bed.

"Chou—Lord Chou!" The person shouted in panic, "The Great Yuan people are inside! The Great Yuan people, the Great Yuan people have broken in!"

Chou Deyao was stunned. "What did you say?" He immediately flipped out of bed, kicked the person aside, quickly dressed, and snatched the sabre hanging on the wall. He cursed, "Gather the troops! Quickly gather the troops! What are you afraid of?!"

But even with Shangjin's 80,000 defenders, they were no match for this midnight surprise attack. By the time Chou Deyao assembled his forces for a counterattack, half of Shangjin was already lost. Great Yuan's iron cavalry surged in like a flood, their scimitars seizing the cold moonlight amidst the night's flames. Eagles circled above Shangjin, overlooking the prosperity burning inch by inch into ashes.

"Block Shanghua Street!" Chou Deyao roared. "Pull up your pants! It's not time to offer your white ass!"

Soldiers, roused from sleep and rushing over, were disheveled. Great Yuan's hooves were already trampling nearby, while their own men hadn't even tightened their waistbands. Chou Deyao let out a low growl, lifted his sabre, and unseated a Great Yuan soldier from his horse, then stabbed him through with a casual thrust. But it wasn't over, as dozens of iron cavalry charged straight for him from behind. Knowing he couldn't retreat, Chou Deyao wiped his hand on the hilt of his sabre, drew it out, and cursed, "Damn you, barbarian soldiers!"

Horses charged forward, and Chou Deyao stepped forth with a cleaving strike, felling a man. The Beiyang Army soldiers who had tightened their waistbands followed closely with their sabres. The two forces clashed on Shanghua Street, engulfed in fire and smoke, fighting to the death.

Fallen bodies tripped people, and once someone fell, it was a desperate situation of being held down and stabbed. Half of the Beiyang Army garrisoned in Shangjin were veterans who had fought Great Yuan years ago and understood their tactics best. Great Yuan cavalry were fierce in battle, their scimitars sweeping down like soul-reapers, a mere brush could send a man to the King of Hell. But if they lost their horses, half of their ferocity would be gambled away. So, the method to fight for their lives was to chop the horse first, knock the rider from his saddle, and then go for the head.

Great Yuan's horses were excellent, but once on the battlefield, they were also casualties more numerous than the soldiers.

Chou Deyao's eyes were bloodshot from killing. Amidst the shouts and fighting, he saw another wave of cavalry surging in the distance. The leader was an imposing figure with a long sabre, his face and horse were things Chou Deyao had etched into his mind. He kicked the dead body off his sabre and shouted at the approaching man, "Arslang!"

The Lion King's sabre slanted off his horse's back, and the horse suddenly accelerated, charging like the wind. Chou Deyao strode forward with a roar, lifting his sabre to meet him. The two clashed with a tremendous clang on the street strewn with corpses. Chou Deyao's tiger's mouth immediately split open, and his arm was numb from the impact of Arslang's long sabre.

"Shameless scoundrel!" Chou Deyao gritted his teeth and cursed. Blades clashed, separated, then clashed again. The blood around his sabre hilt accumulated more and more, until suddenly, even the hilt felt slippery in his hand.

This slip was not good; Arslang took the opportunity to send his sabre flying. The moment his blade left his hand, Chou Deyao pounced, grabbing Arslang's arm and dragging him backward, pulling the Lion King from his horse. Then, a sharp, piercing pain erupted in his abdomen. Chou Deyao's grip loosened, and he couldn't suppress a mouthful of blood, choking it out.

"What do you want?!" He clung to Arslang's sleeve, and as Arslang drew his sabre, another large gush of blood poured out.

"Four years ago, Xin Jing led the Beiyang Army, driving Great Yuan from the side of Yeshan all the way to the Northern Icy Glacier." Arslang removed his hand, straightened up, and said indifferently with his golden eyes, "Four years later, Great Yuan has come to repay that debt."

Chou Deyao collapsed to the ground, clawing at the dirt, trying to push himself up, but then fell back down.

Suddenly, someone among the iron cavalry behind Arslang shouted something in the Yuan language. Immediately after, all the Great Yuan soldiers thumped their chests and repeated it once. Arslang also thumped his chest and murmured.

"Drive Great Lan to the other side of the Chang River."

The shattered Beiyang Army retreated again and again under the relentless charge of the iron cavalry. Shangjin was in grave peril. Shanghua Street, connecting the trade routes, was a symbol of Shangjin; amidst the whistles of the Great Yuan soldiers, torches were thrown, and it burst into flames from end to end.

Arslang led the charge, his long sabre carving a path of spraying blood. He swept irresistibly from the middle of Shanghua Street all the way to its end. By this point, few Beiyang Army soldiers remained on this street, let alone those scattered across the city walls, gates, and other areas. Civilians scrambled and crawled to escape under the iron cavalry, the firelight illuminating the old soldiers' parched lips and frostbitten hands.

Shangjin was on the brink of collapse.

What to do?

Where are the reinforcements?

The smell of blood dripped from his long sabre into his nostrils. Arslang didn't know how many people he had killed; he walked through Shanghua Street, leaving no one alive who stood in his way. The blood on the ground congealed in the cold night, and white mist puffed from his mouth.

An old soldier, with only half a wooden stick in his hand, trembled before Arslang, on the verge of collapsing. The Lion King, both pitying and indifferent, raised his sabre, 'feeling a touch of regret and sadness in his heart.

'The Beiyang Army he wanted to meet shouldn't be like this Beiyang Army.'

'But all the people he wanted to fight were dead.'

"Too ugly." Arslang murmured softly, and his long sabre fiercely chopped down.

However, this strike was destined not to succeed. His eagle shrieked a warning from high on the eaves of a building. He heard the sound of hooves, and he heard the wind. A sabre familiar to him was suddenly hurled from horseback, deflecting his seemingly inevitable long sabre with its sharp edge. The thrown sabre plunged into the ground before his feet, like a clanging line drawn across the long street.

Cross the line, and die.

The short tassel of that sabre swayed gently in the wind, in the firelight, and in Arslang's trembling fighting spirit. The smell of blood and soot mingled with the thunder of an old friend. Arslang recognized this sabre.

This sabre was named Heavenly Dao.

A young man, wearing ill-fitting armor, sat on the back of a crimson horse. His eyes were so familiar, as if going back several years through wind and snow, one could see Xin Jing who once drove enemies ten thousand miles, mighty as a tiger.

Beiyang had a new King.