Chapter Twenty-Two: Return to the City

The Han army certainly did not bring live sheep with them, and their bronze drums were limited. Thus, Li Guang deliberately left a squad of cavalry at Eagle Pass, instructing them to make more noise at night. Only cavalrymen could hope to avoid pursuit by the Xiongnu during a retreat. After making these arrangements, Li Guang led his force of over a thousand men, each with a bit in their mouth and their horses’ hooves wrapped, quietly hastening back to Qiansang.

Because Qin Cheng had distinguished himself by guarding the yellow banner during the day, Li Guang appointed him as a new military commander right on the battlefield—a decree that naturally held weight. Now, Qin Cheng had finally become a cavalryman as he wished, carrying the yellow banner and following close behind Li Guang.

The night was as dark as ink, the moonlight like frost. The silent column marched through the still mountain path, moving forward swiftly like a snake.

Beside Qin Cheng was the captain of Li Guang’s personal guard, a man in his thirties, whose stern face appeared even more intimidating under the cold blue gleam of his bloodstained black armor. He had taken many blows in the day's battle, always staying close to Li Guang. By comparison, the pale-faced attendant nearby seemed much more approachable. Though his battle robe was also soaked with blood, his expression was calm. Qin Cheng knew both men from before, but as everyone traveled in silence, even Qin Cheng, who had hoped to ease the tension with a few words, had to give up.

“Have you stared enough?” the pale-faced attendant suddenly turned his head and asked Qin Cheng coldly.

“Uh… You really are striking! Forgive me, brother, what is your family name?” Only then did Qin Cheng realize he had been scrutinizing the man for quite some time. Caught off guard by the sudden question, he stammered, blurting out words he might have used before his journey through time.

“If you say nothing, no one will mistake you for a mute!” The attendant’s fair face showed a hint of annoyance, casting Qin Cheng a sidelong glance.

“You were the one who spoke first,” Qin Cheng replied with a bright, mischievous smile.

“You…” The attendant was momentarily at a loss for words, his already large eyes glaring at Qin Cheng as if he would swallow him whole. “Sharp-tongued! For a grown man, you speak more than a woman. Qin Cheng, you certainly have a talent!”

“Women aren’t necessarily talkative, men aren’t necessarily dull. It’s entirely a personal matter,” Qin Cheng retorted.

“You…” Again the attendant was speechless, fuming as he flung his sleeve and snorted, calling Qin Cheng a “rascal,” then paid him no further attention.

Qin Cheng found this amusing and thought to himself that not only did the man have a fair face, but there was a hint of feminine grace in his manner. If he hadn’t seen the attendant’s extraordinary swordsmanship before, he would never have bothered with such a person.

Meanwhile, the captain of the personal guard never glanced at them, his eyes fixed firmly ahead.

After more than two hours’ march, the group finally emerged from the mountain path and rounded a bend, where Qiansang City appeared before them.

Because it was wartime, even though midnight had passed, the city walls of Qiansang were brightly lit. The guards standing on the battlements were clearly visible under the lamps.

“Squad leader, there are people coming from the mountains!” The new recruit, Little Chengzi, pointed at a fiery dragon of torches speeding out from the mountain path.

“I see them, what’s the point of shouting?” the squad leader replied angrily, evidently irritated by the recruit’s habit of crying out.

“Are they Xiongnu?!” Little Chengzi’s voice trembled, whether from nervousness or excitement.

“Xiongnu, my foot! Why would Xiongnu appear here?” the squad leader snapped, then after a moment’s thought, his tone grew somber. “They should be our own men.”

“Our men? Could it be General Li? Didn’t they leave at dawn? Could they have returned victorious so soon?” Little Chengzi speculated, feeling a surge of anticipation.

“Shut up!” the squad leader barked. With years of military experience, he sensed unease growing in his heart. After scrutinizing the column on the post road, his anxiety deepened. Still, he remembered his duty. In a stern voice, he said, “Remember, never discuss military matters recklessly. Some things are beyond the understanding of common soldiers like us. All you need to know is that obedience is the soldier’s duty, and slaying the enemy is a soldier’s mission. Even if you’re the last man standing, you must wield your blade against the enemy. Even in defeat, if you still draw breath, you must rally again. Because behind you stand your kin, your village, and the Han Empire.”

“I will remember, squad leader!” Little Chengzi said firmly, though he did not fully comprehend the squad leader’s meaning.

The squad leader nodded, saying no more. As a veteran, he knew that a recruit’s growth required both time and experience.

From afar, the guards atop the city wall saw the Han forces advancing rapidly down the post road and promptly reported to the city’s garrison captain.

Li Gan rode out ahead, galloping to the gates of Qiansang and shouting, “The general has returned! Open the gates quickly!”

The garrison captain peered through the firelight. Though Li Gan’s face was not clear, he could just make it out, and saw that the man standing prominently in the center, sword in hand, was none other than Li Guang. Confirming their identity, the captain called back, “Young general, wait a moment. I will open the gates at once!”

“Open the gates!”

...

In the early hours before dawn, at Eagle Pass.

The Xiongnu Left Wise King had not slept, still clad in armor. Through the night he had calculated the timing. The main cavalry force had been dispatched, and if nothing went awry, they would soon circle behind Eagle Pass and surprise the Han army. Yet as time passed, a nameless irritation grew in the Left Wise King’s heart.

After years of commanding armies, the Left Wise King knew how crucial a general’s intuition could be in battle.

He strode toward the sentry post nearest to Eagle Pass, and before he reached it, he saw two Xiongnu soldiers whispering together.

“Why aren’t you keeping proper watch? What are you whispering about?” the Left Wise King demanded.

“Left Wise King.” The two soldiers quickly saluted. Afterward, they exchanged a hesitant glance.

The Left Wise King caught their expression and asked impatiently, “What do you have to say?”

“Reporting, Left Wise King,” one soldier said, as though steeling himself. “The Han army’s noise has diminished greatly in the past half hour. It struck me as strange, but thinking they might have gone to sleep, I did not report it.”

The Left Wise King was startled, staring at Eagle Pass. He could make out a few faint firelights, and listening carefully, he heard only the occasional neighing of horses.

“Centurion!” the Left Wise King suddenly shouted.

“What are your orders?” A nearby centurion hurried over.

“Assemble your unit and follow me into Eagle Pass!”

“Yes, sir!”

Soon, the Left Wise King led his cavalry toward Eagle Pass. With each stride across the hundreds of yards separating them, his heart grew heavier, for they saw no sign of Han soldiers on the rocky slopes.

The post road was suddenly bustling, while Eagle Pass remained eerily silent—one lively, one still, presenting a stark contrast.

“Break through those war wagons!” the Left Wise King ordered, pointing at the Han war wagons positioned in Eagle Pass.

“Yes, sir!”

The cavalry charged into Eagle Pass without resistance, and upon looking around, the Left Wise King’s face darkened.

In the woods on either side, a dozen or so inferior horses were tethered. Not far from them, piles of hay had been placed, just out of reach, causing the animals to neigh plaintively for what they could not eat. The faint horse cries heard earlier had come from these beasts.

Had the Left Wise King arrived sooner, he would have seen the squad of cavalry that had not yet withdrawn, occasionally beating bronze drums and moving about on the rocks.

“Half an hour ago I saw shadows on the rocks, but now not a single person remains!” the centurion cried out in panic, suddenly realizing they’d been tricked. With a thud, he knelt before the Left Wise King. “I deserve death!”

“You do indeed!” The Left Wise King kicked the centurion hard, knocking him over. “The Han army slipped away under your nose and you noticed nothing. What use are you to me?!”

He then proceeded to kick the centurion repeatedly, as if venting his wrath on a lamb.

The centurion curled up on the ground, enduring the blows in silence, though the pain made him grimace.

“Useless!” the Left Wise King cursed as he kicked, making the nearby Xiongnu soldiers tremble with fear.

After a while, judging that any more would kill the centurion outright, the Left Wise King finally stopped, calling out loudly, “Send word to the entire army: drive the Han prisoners forward! We must reach Qiansang before dawn!”

“Yes, sir!” The centurion struggled to his feet, his armor in disarray, his appearance thoroughly wretched.

...