Chapter Seventy-Four: Has the Time Finally Come?

Before long, every soldier of the Shanggu army had gathered at the drill ground. One thousand five hundred heavy cavalry and two thousand light cavalry formed ranks in the center, presenting a formidable sight. Although the infantry and chariot troops were not to join the expedition this time, they too stood in orderly formation, as both a matter of military protocol and to lend strength to the cavalry.

Once the troops were assembled, Li Guang, astride his tall steed and surrounded by his personal guards, slowly made his way to the front of the assembled soldiers. Though the campaign was a cavalry operation led by Qin Cheng, the valiant Cavalry Captain, Li Guang, as one of the generals, could not abstain from participation. In his eyes, Qin Cheng possessed some talent for command, but that did not mean Li Guang could entrust the entire cavalry force to him without reservation.

Certainly, remaining to oversee Qiansang would also have been a viable choice for Li Guang.

Receiving the respectful salute of the assembled soldiers, Li Guang rode forward to the center, and—without unnecessary words—raised his hand high and shouted, "March!" He spurred his horse ahead, and three to four thousand cavalrymen surged after him.

The soldiers streamed out of the camp like a mighty dragon, raising clouds of dust. One thousand five hundred heavy cavalry, two thousand light cavalry, banners fluttering, hooves thundering, men fierce as tigers, the ranks stretching like a great serpent—three thousand warriors clad in crimson robes and black armor, their spirit soaring to the heavens.

Qin Cheng rode along the edge of the column, his expression stern and his gaze sharp as a freshly drawn blade.

Among the five to six thousand soldiers presently stationed at Shanggu, none cared more for these three to four thousand cavalrymen than Qin Cheng himself.

Heavy and light cavalry—both creations of Qin Cheng’s own hand.

Thus, this force stirred the greatest unrest in Qin Cheng’s heart, causing waves of anticipation and anxiety.

It was a bond forged in life and death.

From the very beginning, when he first started training the heavy and light cavalry, Qin Cheng faced threats to his life from adversaries. He knew from the outset that the days of the Shanggu cavalry would not be smooth.

Although this was just an ordinary frontier commandery of the vast Han Empire.

Qin Cheng would never underestimate himself.

“Born in adversity, destroyed by comfort; even a cunning rabbit has three burrows—how much more so for men?”

Over the past three months, Qin Cheng could not have failed to make contingency plans. Otherwise, he would not so easily have risked everything he had, all his hopes in this world, on a battlefield fraught with danger, seemingly doomed.

If there was not even a ten percent chance of victory, what would be the point of fighting?

As it stood, the heavy cavalry’s equipment had not yet reached Qin Cheng's desired standard. The reason was simple: forging armor for heavy cavalry was an enormous expense. Even for just fifteen hundred men, it was not something he could accomplish in Shanggu within three short months. Although previously, Liu Che had granted Li Guang the authority to act at his discretion.

But from Liu Che’s perspective, how much could he truly invest in a single frontier commandery? At present, who could claim that Liu Che did not view Shanggu with an attitude of experiment and observation?

Thus, Liu Che’s true hopes remained with his central armies—the Northern and Southern Armies, his Imperial Guard at Shanglin Park—not with the local troops of a border commandery such as Shanggu.

Liu Che’s previous support for the development of the Shanggu cavalry had already exceeded Qin Cheng’s expectations, earning the emperor his admiration. But henceforth, what Liu Che could provide would no longer be direct military supplies—no more batches of sabers or horses as before—but rather increased discretionary power for Li Guang, allowing him to manage as he saw fit. Ultimately, whatever achievements Shanggu could attain would depend on Li Guang himself.

If Shanggu was to win more direct support from Liu Che, it must show its potential, demonstrate its value, and convince the emperor to invest further.

Thus, this was another reason for the Shanggu cavalry's campaign.

Qin Cheng, who knew the course of history, understood that time was not on his side. He must forge an iron cavalry within a year or two—at the very least, a near-iron cavalry. Therefore, he needed Liu Che’s continued investment in military equipment, and that could only be secured through strength.

“What are your plans for the coming battle against the Xiongnu?” Liu Mu caught up to Qin Cheng, riding alongside.

Shanggu’s cavalry was not yet fully formed, and Liu Mu was eager to know what Qin Cheng was thinking, daring to stake everything on such a complex battlefield.

“Have you made any progress in your skills lately?” Qin Cheng responded, not directly answering Liu Mu’s question.

“Of course I have. Why do you ask?” Liu Mu replied, neither humble nor boastful, but pressed for an answer.

“As long as you’ve improved,” Qin Cheng said. “Last time, when we sparred, I could see your swordsmanship was impressive, though not yet fully mature—otherwise, I might not have beaten you, or at least not easily. If you’ve applied yourself these past three or four months, your strength should have made a qualitative leap. That reassures me.”

“What are you getting at?” Liu Mu frowned. “Are you planning to have me lead the charge?”

Qin Cheng smiled mysteriously, almost mischievously. “It’s not so simple as being the vanguard. Rather, you’ll be the very tip of the spear! Details are premature now; I’ll arrange matters in due course. Of course, our side is weak in this battle, so every engagement may be fiercely dangerous—anyone could lose their life. But even so, when it’s your turn to stand at the very front, I won’t hesitate. Be prepared.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t disgrace you,” Liu Mu replied, pausing before adding, “I won’t disgrace the Han army!”

“In that case, let’s see what happens!” Qin Cheng laughed, raised his whip, and galloped to the head of the column.

Liu Mu watched Qin Cheng’s retreating figure, standing quietly, murmuring to himself, “So, the time has finally come?”

No one knew what he meant.

“General, how far ahead have you sent the scouts?” Qin Cheng rode up beside Li Guang.

“According to regulations, five li,” Li Guang answered, a little puzzled at Qin Cheng's question.

“General, in my opinion, this march is no ordinary one. The scouts must extend their range. If we spot the Xiongnu earlier, or delay their discovery of us, it will be greatly advantageous—otherwise, we’ll be at a disadvantage in the first encounter,” Qin Cheng said.

In field operations, the scouts often represent the first engagement between the two sides. Their clash directly influences which army holds initiative or is forced into reaction, thus shaping the course of battle. Ordinarily, the skill of scouts is comparable on both sides, making it difficult for either to secure an absolute advantage, so this aspect is often overlooked.

But when Han troops face Xiongnu cavalry, the situation is different.

The Xiongnu scouts cover much broader territory—several times that of the Han.

Li Guang, perhaps limited by his era, might not fully grasp this, so Qin Cheng had to remind him.

All in all, Li Guang remained the commander, and Qin Cheng only his deputy; command authority rested with Li Guang.

“Qin Lang speaks wisely. We cannot neglect a single detail,” Li Guang nodded, then ordered, “Transmit my command: extend the scouts’ range to twenty li, and double their number!”

This time, Li Gan was not at Li Guang’s side. Now, Li Gan was a proper cavalry captain with his own command, and could no longer serve as Li Guang’s personal guard.

Li Hu, however, remained.

Qin Cheng had yet to find an opportunity to test himself against Li Hu.

Previously, Qin Cheng had suggested such a contest to build rapport, but now he had no need for that. After their last failed attempt to spar in the drill ground, Qin Cheng had been too busy to revisit the matter.

Yet he was still keen to know just how formidable Li Hu truly was.

One mountain always higher than another; those with strength always wish to know who is stronger. Such is the mentality of warriors.

Unfortunately, Li Hu was Li Guang’s personal guard; otherwise, Qin Cheng would gladly assign him important tasks.

For example, leading a charge—his prowess could certainly carve a bloody path through enemy ranks.

In this camp, when it came to combat arts, if Qin Cheng could not best Li Hu, then surely no one else could.

With this in mind, Qin Cheng smiled at Li Hu, saying, “Captain Li, we talked about sparring the other day, but circumstances kept us from it. Now we’ll be on the battlefield—how about we compete to see who takes more enemy heads? Winner takes all?”

Qin Cheng spoke loudly enough for many soldiers behind to hear.

“General Qin leads the army, while I am but a captain of guards. It hardly seems fair to compare,” Li Hu replied, just as loudly, “But if General Qin is interested, I would not dampen his spirits!”

“Good, it’s a deal!” Qin Cheng laughed heartily.

“Wait!” Li Guang interjected, “If you two are competing for heads, how can you leave out your general? I am the commander—how can I not take part? Count me in!”

“Very well, as the general wishes!”