Chapter Fifty-Nine: Pursuit of Life and Death in the Jungle

When Zhao Lu heard Qin Cheng’s words, his face turned as pale as paper, then immediately flushed red with rage. He struggled to attack Qin Cheng, cursing, “Qin Cheng, you little wretch, you actually set me up? May you die a thousand deaths, you bastard! I’ll cut you into pieces! Let me go!”

Qin Cheng merely glanced at Zhao Lu, his voice calm and unhurried. “Prince Jin Xie, if you’ve lost, you should accept it with a loser’s dignity. What is this behavior? Is it that only you can plot against others, but no one else can plot against you? The only thing to blame is your own stupidity!”

With that, he ignored Zhao Lu’s shouting, sheathed his long blade, and led a horse over.

“General Ji, take them all back to camp and await my orders,” Qin Cheng commanded as he mounted his horse. “Don’t give them any chance to take their own lives.”

“Yes, sir,” Ji Zhu replied. Seeing that Qin Cheng had no intention of returning to camp with them, he asked, “General Qin, where are you going?”

“Naturally, to take a look at these Xiongnu’s old lair,” Qin Cheng replied with a slight smile, then, guided by two soldiers, he rode off.

His crimson robe fluttered as his horse’s hooves sent dust flying along the road.

“Qin Cheng, you scoundrel! Curse you, I’ll never forgive you!” Even as Qin Cheng disappeared into the distance, Zhao Lu continued to curse in his direction.

“Shut your filthy mouth!” Ji Zhu kicked Zhao Lu hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. Spitting in disgust, he sneered, “A dog can’t change its ways—damn barbarian Xiongnu!”

Qin Cheng, following the two scouts, galloped swiftly for about an hour before arriving at the Xiongnu hideout that Liu Mu had discovered.

This Zhao Lu had originally fled to Shanggu Prefecture to escape death, received the court’s permission, and joined the Han army as a cavalry officer. Though the imperial court did not bestow him with great favor, he had not been treated badly, and over the years had made some military achievements. Yet today, he had still chosen the path of rebellion. There must have been someone behind the scenes pushing him; the temptation must have been great. Qin Cheng had gone to great lengths, even risking Qin Qingzhi’s life, just to uncover the mastermind, to see what kind of person, with what kind of status, could entice Zhao Lu to such desperate betrayal.

The Xiongnu’s lair turned out to be a medium-sized manor—not high-walled or fortress-like, but also not something an ordinary family could build. It was situated at the edge of a hunter’s village, backed by deep mountains. Out the back door lay a bamboo grove, and beyond that, dense forest—a well-hidden position.

When Qin Cheng arrived, the encirclement and assault led by Li Hu and Liu Mu had just concluded. Nearly a hundred soldiers had been deployed; more than a dozen lay dead and half were wounded. Even Li Hu himself had his arm wrapped in blood-soaked white cloth. When he saw Qin Cheng in his black armor and crimson robe enter the manor, he strode forward and saluted with a fist to his chest. “General Qin.”

“Captain Li, how is your injury?” Qin Cheng asked with concern, seeing the wound on Li Hu’s arm.

“It’s nothing serious, just a scratch,” Li Hu replied carelessly.

“That’s a relief. Tell me, what’s the situation?” Qin Cheng swept his gaze around the manor. Blood was spattered everywhere, and both Han soldiers in armor and Xiongnu in rough cloth lay scattered about. Many soldiers were moving to clear the field.

“This lot was very cunning. We had planned a sneak attack, but they spotted us, so we had no choice but to assault head-on. There weren’t many of them—just a dozen or so—but each fought like ten men. I brought only the elite, yet we still suffered heavy casualties. Later, as we fought into the rear courtyard, they tried to escape through the bamboo grove behind the manor and flee into the mountains. Fortunately, Liu Lang had already set up an ambush there, so most didn’t get away. Still, two or three slipped through and are probably in the mountains by now. I’ve sent men after them, but we’re not familiar with the terrain, so who knows if we’ll catch them,” said Li Hu.

“Captain Li, you’ve shown both courage and resourcefulness—just as you should. As for whether those three are caught, it doesn’t matter much now. With Zhao Lu captured, they pose little threat to our cavalry development in Shanggu. Still, I’d like to know—who are these people?” Qin Cheng asked, eager to discover just how powerful those behind Zhao Lu’s rebellion were.

Li Hu looked troubled. “We didn’t take any alive, nor did they reveal their identities. All we know is that they’re Xiongnu.”

Qin Cheng nodded. “Where is Liu Lang?”

“He’s in the bamboo grove behind the rear courtyard. Shall I take you to him?” Li Hu asked.

“Very well.”

As Qin Cheng and Li Hu walked through the manor, every soldier who saw Qin Cheng came up to salute, admiration clear in their eyes—some even with a burning intensity. As common soldiers, they only knew that a few people had caused trouble in the drill ground recently. Then, in a few days, Li Hu had led them on a secret mission, and now it was clear: Xiongnu spies had infiltrated the army, aiming to sabotage the cavalry’s development and even kill their own Commandant of Cavalry! And Qin Cheng—though he had not been seen doing much—had managed, in just a few days, to trap and wipe out this group of Xiongnu. How could they not be impressed?

“Has Qingzhi been found?” Qin Cheng asked Li Hu. In this whole operation, his greatest worry had been for Qin Qingzhi.

“General! General Qin!” Before Li Hu could answer, a shout came from nearby. Turning, Qin Cheng saw Qin Qingzhi, supported by two soldiers, walking over. Seeing Qin Cheng, Qin Qingzhi’s face lit up in excitement and relief, and he strode forward, dropping to his knees. “Subordinate Qin Qingzhi, grateful not to have failed my orders, has completed the mission and hereby reports back!”

“Well done!” Qin Cheng laughed heartily, helping him up. Looking him over, he saw not a scratch. “So? The Xiongnu didn’t harm you?”

“No,” Qin Qingzhi replied, standing tall. “They just knocked me out and locked me in a room. They never interrogated me—I have no idea what they were planning.”

“No matter,” Qin Cheng smiled. “Now there’s nothing more they can do to you. You performed admirably in this operation. When we return, I’ll make sure the general rewards you.”

“Thank you, General!”

“And Captain Li, we owe you much as well. Accept my thanks now,” Qin Cheng saluted Li Hu.

“No need,” Li Hu waved it off. “We just did our part. If not for your careful planning, ten Li Hus wouldn’t have sufficed. If anyone should be thanked, it’s you, General Qin. Without you, how would we have discovered Zhao Lu was a Xiongnu spy?”

“Enough, enough. No more thanks. This is our duty as soldiers. If one day we can raise an iron cavalry to crush the Xiongnu, what wouldn’t we do?”

“General Qin speaks truly.”

As they spoke, they arrived at the edge of the bamboo grove behind the rear courtyard. Liu Mu was there, surveying the area, with five or six corpses—both Xiongnu and Han—lying on the ground.

“General Qin,” Liu Mu greeted, saluting just as respectfully as Li Hu. This was not mere formality; Qin Cheng’s deeds today had truly won their admiration.

Qin Cheng took in the scene. “Any sign of those three escapees?”

“They’ve gone into the mountains. The terrain is complex; I’ve sent some brothers in to search, but none have returned yet,” Liu Mu replied, pointing into the bamboo grove. Seventy or eighty steps in, a cluster of rocks and tangled weeds formed a small knoll, and beyond that, dense forest stretched on.

“That’s all right,” Qin Cheng said. Then, with a smile, he added, “Liu Lang, you’ve worked hard, running back and forth. When we return to the city, let’s share some wine to ease your fatigue!”

Liu Mu smiled, his exhaustion fading a little. “General Qin, you must keep your word. Everyone’s waiting for your treat!”

He turned and called to the others, “Isn’t that right, men?”

“Yes!” the soldiers shouted in unison.

“Good!” Qin Cheng declared boldly. “Once we’re back in camp and I’ve reported your merits, we’ll have a proper feast!”

“Thank you, General Qin!” the soldiers replied, delighted.

As everyone laughed and chatted, Liu Mu’s face suddenly changed; his eyes flashed coldly. He shouted, “Look out!” and hurled himself at Qin Cheng.

Qin Cheng was just turning to see what was amiss when Liu Mu crashed into him with a muffled groan. Qin Cheng caught him and saw a thick iron arrow sticking out of Liu Mu’s back shoulder.

Instinctively, Qin Cheng looked toward the bamboo grove. On the dirt knoll, a figure with a bow leapt down, vanishing into the bamboo.

There was no time to think. Rage surged through Qin Cheng, his entire being ignited with killing intent. Supporting Liu Mu, memories of comrades shielding him in past battles flashed before him.

“Hold him!” Qin Cheng roared, passing Liu Mu to Li Hu, then dashed into the woods.

“General Qin!” The others shouted as Qin Cheng—his red robe a flash—darted into the forest, scaling the knoll and disappearing from sight.

“What are you waiting for? Help him!” Li Hu barked. “Yes, sir!” came the reply.

Fury drove Qin Cheng on. His eyes reddened, his strength unleashed, he ran with extraordinary agility—up and over the knoll, then down the other side. In the forest, a man in gray darted ahead, heading for a nearby slope. Qin Cheng gave chase, ignoring brambles and undergrowth, focused solely on his quarry.

After a while, not yet at the slope, a sense of danger struck Qin Cheng—a battle-hardened instinct from countless past fights. He dove forward just as an iron arrow shot from the side, brushing past his body.

As he landed, he caught a glimpse of a man in blue by a tree, drawing another arrow. Qin Cheng didn’t slow, but changed direction, using the trees for cover as he rushed the archer.

He realized that the gray-clad man he’d been chasing would double back to attack with the blue-clad one. The blue archer clearly recognized him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have shot at him so directly. These two had entered the forest intending to kill him, the Commandant of Cavalry, right here.

Using the dense growth for cover, Qin Cheng kept adjusting his path. The blue-clad man, seeing Qin Cheng approach, fired several arrows but missed, then ran toward his companion.

Behind Qin Cheng, the voices of Han soldiers echoed closer.

The two enemies had bows—and surely swords, too. Qin Cheng dared not wait for backup, fearing the assassins would escape. Consumed by urgency and hatred, he pressed after them up the slope.

The two weren’t adept at running through the forest, and Qin Cheng quickly closed the gap—soon only twenty paces separated them.

But those twenty paces were held by the blue-clad man’s arrows. Though the trees hampered his aim, making it impossible to hit Qin Cheng, they kept Qin Cheng from closing in.

So began a contest of endurance in the deep woods. The three men zigzagged, crossing several knolls, the pursuers desperate, the pursued fleeing for their lives. After half an hour, all were breathless.

Finally, the blue-clad man exhausted his arrows.

Qin Cheng wasted no breath on shouts like “Don’t run, stop!” Seeing his foe out of arrows and options, he redoubled his pursuit.

Eighteen steps, fifteen, thirteen, ten…

The blue and gray men glanced back, saw Qin Cheng almost upon them, exchanged a look, then stopped abruptly and turned to attack—long blades flashing dangerously close.

“Good!” Qin Cheng roared, fearless, leaping up and planting his right foot on a tree trunk. He vaulted over their heads, twisting in midair, blade descending as he turned.

The two men, startled, leapt forward, narrowly dodging his blade.

They landed, barely pausing, and attacked in unison—perfectly coordinated, their assault fierce.

Landing, Qin Cheng saw their blades coming at him. He snatched up a rock with his left hand and hurled it hard, hitting the blue-clad man in the head. Blood burst from the wound, and the man collapsed.

The gray-clad man glanced at his fallen comrade but didn’t falter, pressing his attack.

Qin Cheng, having disabled one, now faced the other. The gray man’s blade slashed down—Qin Cheng sidestepped, parried, and locked swords. The gray man tried to shove Qin Cheng’s blade aside, but Qin Cheng pressed his blade down, rolled to the side, and as he fell, swept his own blade across the man’s throat.

The gray man rolled away in the nick of time, escaping death. Before he could rise, Qin Cheng was upon him, blade descending.

With no other way, the gray man lifted his sword to block. Their blades met with a jarring force—the gray man, already kneeling, felt his knee give out and collapsed completely.

Qin Cheng didn’t waste time wrestling. He kicked the gray man in the chest, sending him flying more than a yard until he crashed into a tree, coughing blood and scattering leaves.

As the gray man struck the tree, Qin Cheng hurled his blade after him. The weapon buried itself in the man’s chest.

Striding over, Qin Cheng pulled out his blade, then turned—only to find the blue-clad man, recovered, slashing at his throat.

Qin Cheng leaned back, letting the blade sweep past his face, nearly slicing off his helmet. Before he could straighten, the blue-clad man reversed his blade in a rising diagonal slash at his back.

No time to stand upright, Qin Cheng twisted, his left hand bracing the blade across his chest to block the strike.

The blue-clad man, blade caught, slid his weapon along Qin Cheng’s to sweep at his chest—Qin Cheng, maintaining his guard, leaned in, and…