Chapter Eighty-Five: A Thousand-League Raid

In the northern part of Shanggu Commandery, six hundred li north of the Great Wall, the land already belonged to the Xiongnu. The desert grasslands stretched endlessly, and when the wind swept over the grass, cattle and sheep appeared.

This prairie had always been peaceful. Occasionally, some Xiongnu herders would drive their livestock here to graze, and even then, harmony prevailed.

Suddenly, a troop of cavalry, resplendent in fine attire and mounted on spirited horses, appeared on the grasslands. They galloped wildly, heading straight north, their momentum so great that it startled the hibernating insects among the grass. By the look of it, they numbered no less than two thousand.

Clad in scarlet cloaks and black armor, with bows and arrows strapped to their backs and long swords at their waists, their speed was astonishing.

By now, the setting sun bled across the sky.

“We've already circled around here for most of the day and haven’t seen so much as a shadow of a Xiongnu. Are you sure you didn’t remember wrong, Pangolin?” The large group of cavalry halted atop a grassy hill and looked around. The young officer at the head, his features stern, questioned the soldier beside him.

“The last time I came here, I saw a Xiongnu tribe nearby, but I don’t know why they’re nowhere to be seen now!” Pangolin’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he carefully scrutinized their surroundings.

“We've raided eight hundred li, and now we’re six hundred li deep into the desert. If we don’t find a single Xiongnu tribe, not only will our lives be forfeit, but the general at Sheephead Town won’t last much longer either. What should we do? General, you must decide quickly,” Liu Mu urged.

“North, then!” Qin Cheng frowned for a moment, then replied with resolve.

“Yes, sir!”

This light cavalry, which should have been with Li Guang’s fifteen hundred heavy cavalry, had appeared deep within Xiongnu territory in the desert!

The army galloped northward.

Across the vast heavens and earth, the cavalry line was but a thin strand.

Before long, a scout came riding hard from ahead.

“General, twenty li ahead there’s a large group of Xiongnu herders—about a hundred people, countless horses and sheep, and a hundred-man squad of Xiongnu cavalry guarding them!” Spotting the lone rider approaching at speed, Qin Cheng raised his hand to signal a halt. The scout rode up and reported from his horse.

Qin Cheng’s eyebrows arched; the corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile as he said to Pangolin, “Your memory may be a little off, but not by much after all.”

Pangolin let out a sigh of relief. This unprecedented raid deep into the desert had placed a heavy burden on him as their guide. Learning he had not led the troops astray, he could not help but feel fortunate.

“It seems our thousand-li raid is about to bear fruit!” Qin Qingzhi could not help his excitement. His gaze turned north, filled with burning fervor.

“A thousand-li raid deep into the desert—unprecedented! Especially with new cavalry trained for only four months. If this attack succeeds, General Qin’s name will surely go down in history,” Liu Mu said. The cold wind made him squint; he shielded his brow with his hand. Though his tone was calm, he could not hide his excitement.

Moments ago, they had nearly circled in place, not seeing a single Xiongnu. Their mood had been anxious, but now, having found a target by heading north, everyone’s spirits soared.

Qin Cheng glanced back at the light cavalry, looking somewhat disheveled from their thousand-li dash, but his expression remained unchanged. Given that they had only trained for three or four months, it was remarkable that no one had fallen behind and they could still keep formation.

“Soldiers, the Xiongnu are just ahead! Our day-and-night raid is about to succeed. Form up behind me—follow me to the attack, and the glory will be yours!” Qin Cheng, his lips cracked, drew his long sword and commanded in a clear voice.

“Charge!” Hearing that the Xiongnu were just ahead, the two thousand cavalrymen were instantly invigorated, their eyes shining. They ignored their weariness and pain, following Qin Cheng at a full gallop.

Centurion Yelu, bored, rode a handsome horse around the herd, his expression lazy. In his hand he held a waterskin said to contain fine wine from the Han heartland, which he gulped down in large draughts, though it all tasted dull. Glancing at the hundred cavalrymen behind him, few had pleasant expressions. After all, they hadn’t been chosen for the campaign, so none of the spoils would come their way. His hundred-man squad was like a group of neglected orphans, cast aside to watch over the herders, little more than monkeys for amusement. In such circumstances, who could be in a good mood?

Yelu looked south, his gaze tinged with resentment. He took a long swig from his waterskin, heedless of how much he spilled, muttering, “Back in the day, when I led the charge into the Han towns, I was a force to be reckoned with. Those Han fools who dared come at me—none ever survived a round under my blade…”

A cavalryman behind him, hearing their centurion rambling drunkenly again, sighed. Their squad had been left behind for this campaign, missing out on the spoils. This time, they said, a major figure from the royal court was leading ten thousand troops to avenge the Left Wise King…

Still, thinking how their own great king, the mighty Xiongnu Left Wise King, was stuck at home, they felt somewhat better—at least they weren’t the only ones left out.

As the sun neared the horizon, Yelu was about to order the herders to return when a scout galloped up.

“Centurion, something’s wrong! A large force is charging this way—they look like… Han troops!” As Yelu prepared to give orders, the scout rode up in a panic, pointing south in alarm.

“What did you say? Han troops?” Yelu hurled his wineskin at the scout’s face. “You brainless fool! Do you know where you are? You’re not on campaign, you’re still in the desert! Han troops? I’ll kick you to death!”

He did as he said, kicking the scout off his horse, and still not satisfied, dismounted himself and prepared to thrash him. “Han troops, Han troops… I’ll Han your mother!”

The hapless Xiongnu rider, clutching his face and wailing, pleaded, “It’s true, it’s really Han troops…”

“Still spouting nonsense? I’ll beat sense into you!” Yelu cursed as he raised his whip, striking with gusto.

All eyes fell on them, but everyone tacitly kept silent. The herders, seeing what was happening, simply turned away to mind their own business.

The sound of hooves approached.

Growing louder and louder.

Now all the Xiongnu cavalry heard clearly—it was indeed the sound of horses, and a sizable force at that.

Then, a group of cavalry appeared on the horizon.

Scarlet cloaks and black armor—was this not the Han army’s attire?

As the Han troops drew nearer, the Xiongnu cavalry stared in disbelief. Could the returning victorious troops have donned Han armor? Since when had this been the custom?

Even now, the Xiongnu riders refused to believe they were facing genuine Han cavalry.

It was just too incredible. The Xiongnu and Han had confronted each other for sixty or seventy years; never had Han troops set foot in the desert.

In the minds of the Xiongnu, there was no scenario in which Han troops would ever enter the desert.

“Centurion, it really… really looks like Han soldiers!” A decurion close to Yelu spoke nervously.

Yelu stood, studying the charging Han cavalry with suspicion. “Could our own men have disguised themselves in Han armor? Why would Han troops be here? And if it were them, why are they silent…”

As if in answer, the charging Han army, which had so far shown no banners or signals, suddenly erupted in an earth-shaking battle cry:

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

“They really are Han troops?!” Yelu was stunned. He vaulted onto his horse, face pale, and shouted, “Enemy attack! Prepare to fight!”

“Enemy attack! Prepare to fight!”

The Han cavalry had closed to within three hundred zhang. Now, even if the Xiongnu cavalry wanted to run, it was too late. Besides, there were countless livestock and more than a hundred herders to protect.

At that moment, Yelu knew exactly what fate awaited him. Who would have thought he’d run into Han troops without even going on campaign? Was this good luck or bad?

“Bows!”

Qin Cheng raised his sword and shouted.

Two thousand cavalry drew their bows. Their movements, though rough, were almost in unison.

“Arrows!”

Qin Cheng gestured forward with his long blade.

However poor the new cavalry’s archery, two thousand iron arrows loosed at a hundred riders would wreak havoc regardless of aim. The first volley alone left the Xiongnu squad in tatters.

Two thousand arrows against a hundred horsemen was like a mountain crushing a mosquito. Even the Xiongnu’s hundred arrows, fired back at two thousand, would inevitably find some targets, so casualties on both sides in the first exchange were not so disparate.

But the second volley was different. The Han’s next barrage virtually wiped out the hundred Xiongnu cavalry, while the Xiongnu, with only a few dozen arrows left, could do little in return.

Still, as Qin Cheng heard the screams behind him, his heart ached—these were his own men, every loss a fresh wound.

The Han light cavalry needed only a single charge. Before many herders had even reacted, the squad guarding them was wiped out. Then, the cavalry split left and right, herding the thousands of livestock into the center, ensuring the herders could not escape to warn their tribe.

“General, we have a live one!” Qin Qingzhi brought over a Xiongnu horseman, still alive despite three arrows in him.

Yelu weakly raised his head to look at the Han general, then let it drop.

“Your centurion was truly a fool. Saw us coming from afar and did nothing for half a day—didn’t even require me to take precautions against him warning the others. With a centurion like that, no wonder you lot are stuck at home instead of on campaign. Deserved to fall into my hands today. Next life, pick a better leader,” Qin Cheng teased, seeing the dejected Xiongnu, prompting laughter from his men. After a day’s hard riding, the jest lifted their spirits.

Yelu, enraged by Qin Cheng’s words, spat out a mouthful of blood and fell lifeless.

Qin Qingzhi narrowly avoided being sprayed. As he recovered, he smacked Yelu on the head, ready to scold him, but something felt wrong. Checking carefully, he found the Xiongnu already dead. He looked at Qin Cheng in surprise: “He’s dead!”

“How could he die so easily? He was just alive.” The men could not understand how Yelu could be so infuriated by Qin Cheng’s words as to die on the spot.

Qin Cheng stroked his chin and mused, “He must have been the centurion.”

“Ah?” Qin Qingzhi blinked, then laughed. “So that’s it.”

Just then, Liu Mu came over and Qin Cheng asked, “Did you get anything?”

“Seventy li north, there’s a large Xiongnu tribe. But all their cavalry were sent away more than ten days ago. Only a few hundred home guards and some old men, women, and children remain,” Liu Mu reported, a flush of excitement coloring his pale face.

“Good! Gather the troops. We’ll move out secretly and prepare for a night raid on the Xiongnu camp!”

…

That day, Li Guang had clashed with Yi Xue’er, and with the valor of his heavy cavalry, had fought a bloody path into the foothills, finally taking shelter in Sheephead Town. He even managed to make the pursuing Xiongnu believe he commanded more than three thousand cavalry.

The truth was, Li Guang and Qin Cheng never believed the Xiongnu force heading south numbered only two thousand. No matter how the enemy tried to mislead or provoke them, they remained unmoved—though not entirely, for Yi Xue’er’s ruse was convincing. When the main force withdrew yesterday, both Li Guang and Qin Cheng were uneasy. If the Xiongnu really retreated without a backup plan, they would face censure for failure and dereliction of duty.

But the two held out, and the Xiongnu did not disappoint. Their counter-ploy was risky: before dawn, Qin Cheng split off to raid deep into the desert, to burn the Xiongnu’s rear and force them to turn back. Yet the Han army had never before set foot in the desert, let alone attempted a thousand-li raid. Li Guang was anxious; Pangolin, who had only entered the desert once, hardly inspired confidence. If Qin Cheng failed, the cavalry and their two top commanders in Shanggu would be finished!

By nightfall, a fierce struggle raged between the besieging Xiongnu and the Han defenders under Li Guang at Sheephead Town.

Just like their earlier attack on Xiaohua Fortress, the ten thousand-strong Xiongnu again tried to set the walls of Sheephead Town ablaze, hoping to smoke out Li Guang’s men.

When Yi Xue’er saw Li Guang enter the town, her gloom vanished and she immediately ordered the town encircled. With Li Guang’s troops trapped inside, she was sure they could not escape.

In truth, Li Guang had no choice but to take refuge in Sheephead Town. The mountain paths nearby were difficult enough, but this way, he risked Yi Xue’er realizing his force was nowhere near three thousand. That would be disastrous. But early that morning, Li Guang had already issued secret orders to fortify the town. Pangolin had reported the lessons of the previous siege at Xiaohua Fortress to both Qin Cheng and Li Guang—how could Li Guang not be wary?

This time, with more Xiongnu present, the soldiers stacking firewood outside the walls had cavalry support. So when Han defenders poked their heads out the high windows to shoot arrows, the effect was limited. Usually, any Han soldier showing himself became a pincushion for Xiongnu arrows. Thus, the Han inside could do little about the Xiongnu piling firewood outside.

Since the defenders had already burned all the dry wood inside the town, when the Xiongnu arrived, they were forced to tear down houses for kindling. The process was more complicated than at Xiaohua Fortress, but in the end, the firewood was stacked and the fires lit.

But this was when things took a turn. When the Xiongnu saw what happened next, they nearly choked with rage.

As soon as the firewood outside the walls was set alight, the Han inside dumped bucket after bucket of water from the high windows, swiftly dousing the flames.

Watching their afternoon’s efforts extinguished so easily, Yi Xue’er ground her teeth in fury.

Finally, she devised a more ruthless plan: shoot fire arrows into the fortress through the high windows!

A thousand of the Xiongnu’s best archers were selected for the task, unleashing volley after volley at the high windows.

Not only that, the Xiongnu began battering the fortress gates with logs. Even if they couldn’t break in, at least they could throw torches and shoot arrows inside.

And so, a new contest began.

Yi Xue’er was determined to pursue fire attacks to the end.

It must be said, her plan was vicious. The fortress was largely built of wood. If a fire arrow flew in and struck a person, it meant death; if it landed on a loft, the fire would spread. Either way, it was more than the Han defenders could bear.

Wave after wave of fire arrows rained through the windows, causing screams and panic as fires broke out within.

“Xiahou Neng!” Li Guang shouted, “Take men and block those windows!”

“Yes, sir!” Xiahou Neng called as he rallied the troops…