Luo Jing and Gao Zhen had been making their way back to Anyang to call for reinforcements — yet here they were, less than twenty li from the Nanping River, unable to get through.
Prince Wu Yang Jiju’s ambush force, positioned here in advance, had burst out and cut off the way. With too few men, Luo Jing and Gao Zhen had no choice but to fight while retreating.
As they fought their way back, Luo Jing was still thinking: if things came to it, they would link back up with Luo Zhijie, and with his elite Tiger-Leopard Cavalry, break east to avoid the encirclement. They wouldn’t cross the Nanping River just yet — first shake the pursuing forces, then find an opportunity to cross and get back.
Once back, the first order of business was to put every last one of those useless cowards left garrisoning Anyang to the sword.
But in the moment he and Gao Zhen came fighting back, he watched helplessly as his closest companion was run through by Prince Wu on a single lance.
Luo Zhijie’s body hung on that great lance as blood ran down the shaft.
Prince Wu’s expression was one of contemptuous disdain.
“If you were Luo Jing, you might still have had the strength to fight old me to the death. Pity you are not.”
He turned to face Luo Jing’s direction, looked at that small force, and even Prince Wu — a man of such composed bearing — could not help but break into loud laughter.
He deliberately did not shake the body from the lance but kept it hoisted high.
How could Luo Jing endure this?
“Ahh!”
Luo Jing let out a roar, his eyes on the verge of bursting from their sockets.
“You old villain!”
Luo Jing spurred his horse forward.
At the very moment the horse surged ahead, Gao Zhen seized the reins and hauled them back.
“King of Ji, do not act rashly.”
Gao Zhen held the reins: “That old villain is deliberately goading you, forcing you to come to him.”
“Luo Zhijie was my closest kin!”
Luo Jing roared: “I must avenge him — let go immediately!”
He spurred his horse again.
Gao Zhen knew that if Luo Jing charged in, death was certain. He refused to release his grip no matter what.
“My lord, break out for now, and avenge General Luo another day. As long as you are well, what fear is there that you cannot one day kill that old villain?”
“Get out of my way!”
In his fury Luo Jing hadn’t thought it through — and brought the riding crop down against Gao Zhen’s forehead.
Gao Zhen had been fighting too long; his iron helmet had been lost somewhere along the way. The crop came down, and the blow split his forehead open on the spot.
Within moments, blood poured down his face.
Yet Gao Zhen still refused to let go: “My lord! Let me go avenge General Luo — you lead the forces back and hold for now. I beg you to hear this one counsel.”
Luo Jing raised his hand, the riding crop poised to come down a second time against Gao Zhen — but in that instant, looking at this youth, face drenched in blood, something in Luo Jing’s heart twisted with pain.
That face covered in blood struck him hard, and jolted some clarity back into him.
He angled his hand aside, and the crop swung wide.
“I and Zhijie share no blood, yet all these years he has been like a blood elder brother to me. In my heart, he was my elder brother…”
As Luo Jing spoke, tears streamed down his face unstoppably.
“If I cannot avenge him, how can I ever face him.”
“My lord, even if you killed the old villain now, you would be deep in an encirclement, and if you suffered any mishap — trading the three of us for that one old villain, would that not be far too great a loss? While the hills remain green there will always be firewood; vengeance is only delayed by a little.”
Gao Zhen said: “My lord, lead the forces east to break out. I will go first.”
Luo Jing looked at the wound on Gao Zhen’s forehead. Gao Zhen didn’t care in the slightest — he raised his hand and wiped the blood off his face in a rough smear: “It’s nothing. Please, my lord, cover the rear.”
Luo Jing reached out and gripped Gao Zhen by the arm: “We leave together. If we fight our way out today, we go out together. If we can’t fight our way out, we die together.”
The two of them wheeled their horses and broke for the east.
By now the Dachu forces that had been pursuing from the north had also arrived, completing the encirclement around Luo Jing once more.
“Ha ha ha ha!”
Prince Wu Yang Jiju laughed aloud.
“In my view, the most fierce and battle-ready man in the northern territories is this Luo Jing. Yet he is a man of courage without strategy.”
“If he were given another five or ten years, this man would become a grave threat. Eliminating him in this battle will settle the north.”
“In all my long years at war, Luo Jing’s valor is among the rarest I have ever witnessed — what a pity his gifts are wasted.”
He extended his hand and pointed toward where Luo Jing was fighting: “Whoever kills Luo Jing today — heavily rewarded!”
“Kill!”
At the call of the war horn, the Left Imperial Guard soldiers began closing in from all directions.
“My lord, you take the rear.”
Young general Gao Zhen tore off a strip of cloth and bound the wound on his head, then gripped his long spear and spurred his horse into a charge.
The force at their sides was truly too thin — barely a thousand men.
And the Dachu forces closing in from all sides numbered at least in the tens of thousands.
Even if both Luo Jing and Gao Zhen were men of ten-thousand-man valor, breaking through had become almost impossible.
“Today, even if the Great Golden Immortal himself came down from the heavens, he could not save him.”
Prince Wu laughed with pride.
In his life, he had fought through countless battles, and seen how many brilliant generals?
Whether on his own side or the enemy’s — the extraordinarily gifted and talented men he had seen numbered many, many indeed.
And yet not one of those extraordinarily gifted and talented men had ever won against Prince Wu.
Prince Wu’s forces were perhaps the last honorable plaque of glory for the Dachu garrison army.
There were those who had once said that Dachu should have fallen long ago.
Yet it was precisely because of the invincibly battle-hardened garrison troops that even as the country crumbled and ceased to be a functioning state, the fighting strength of the Dachu garrison forces remained terrifying.
The nation of Dachu was like a giant — a giant whose body had grown old and decrepit, whose flesh and blood had all rotted, whose mind had gone, whose organs had all given out.
And the garrison forces were the bones of that giant Dachu. Those bones, against all odds, were still hard — and so they barely kept the giant upright.
Sustained by the power of the garrison forces, Dachu had extended its life for many years.
And further, because of Prince Wu’s invincibility, Dachu had borrowed another twenty years.
Prince Wu sat on horseback, pointing in the direction where Luo Jing was fighting and laughing: “Young men like him are rare in all the world — yet they still fall before this old man.”
“It is said that in a turbulent age one must not provoke young men, yet in my view, all the so-called brilliantly gifted young men in this world still fall somewhat short.”
He raised his palm and turned it back and forth: “What I hold in this hand is their youth and fighting edge.”
A great victory had filled Prince Wu with heroic elation, as though he had suddenly grown twenty years younger.
He looked toward Luo Jing’s position and laughed: “Luo Geng ought to smile even in death — to have a son such as this is something to be proud of.”
“After killing Luo Jing in this battle, I will send men to bury his body on the banks of the Nanping River, raise a tomb and a stele, as a warning to those who come after.”
At this, Prince Wu beckoned with his hand: “We’ll go over too — let’s watch how Luo Jing, like a headless fly, blunders about and tries to shatter walls of bronze and iron.”
One of his subordinate generals said with a laugh: “There is no one in the world who can shatter the Prince’s walls of bronze and iron.”
Prince Wu laughed heartily.
Laughing, he suddenly went rigid.
Just as he was about to spur his horse forward, he looked up and caught sight of a vast expanse of blazing crimson banners appearing in the north.
That force — no one knew from where it came — arrived like wind, surged like fire.
With the speed of boiling water thrown on snow, it shattered in an instant the Dachu blocking force on the northern side.
“Where did this enemy force come from?!”
Prince Wu’s expression changed dramatically.
He raised his spyglass to look — and saw that the force moved not only with extraordinary speed but with astonishing fighting strength.
The Dachu forces on the northern side were the unit Prince Wu had left on the south bank of the Nanping River as an ambush against Luo Jing. This unit had not fought at all for the duration — concealed in the forest for over a month, this was their first engagement. So whether in energy, physical strength, or fighting spirit, they were at their absolute peak.
Yet this unit held for barely any time at all before being broken by that force flying crimson banners.
Although this unit was not part of the Left Imperial Guard, they were still elite garrison soldiers.
Through the spyglass, Prince Wu saw a young general clad in iron armor, wielding an iron spear, leading a group of warriors — sweeping forward like a blade thrust clean through, then swiftly tearing outward to both sides.
Within moments, the Dachu forces were split in two.
“Tang?”
Prince Wu saw the banner the force was flying and could not help murmuring to himself: “And who is this?!”
“Could it be the Jizhou forces?”
Someone offered a prompt.
In truth Prince Wu had already guessed — he just wasn’t willing to admit it.
He couldn’t believe a band of rebels could have fighting strength like this.
Looking at that force flying Ning army banners — the quality of their equipment, the speed of their movements, the seamlessness of their coordination, the strength of their battle formations — how was any of this like rebels?
Troop-type coordination with not a single gap: this way of fighting, even Prince Wu’s own Left Imperial Guard would only be about on par.
“How can Jizhou have elite forces of this caliber?”
Prince Wu’s eyes widened further and further.
Precisely because he was the peerless Prince Wu, precisely because he was Dachu’s unrivaled God of War — he could see further and higher than others, and see things with greater clarity.
This Ning army that had just appeared — its fighting strength far exceeded that of Luo Jing’s Anyang army.
“Dispatch support immediately!”
Prince Wu shouted out at once.
War horns sounded, and the forces on all sides began moving toward the Ning army.
—
On the battlefield.
After cutting through the Dachu forces, Tang Pidi ordered the whole army to shout aloud.
In the midst of his breakout attempt, Luo Jing looked back and saw the Dachu forces in the north had been cut open. The two men were overjoyed.
“Ha ha ha ha…”
In that moment of desperate crisis, Luo Jing spotted the Ning army banner, spotted the Tang banner — and could not help laughing to the sky.
“Ha ha ha ha… Heaven has not forsaken me!”
He called out to Gao Zhen: “It’s my brother Tang Pidi — follow me to him! My brother Li Chi sent him to rescue us!”
With that shout, his small number of remaining bodyguards charged with him toward Tang Pidi’s direction.
Tang Pidi saw Luo Jing already fighting his way back toward them, and at the same time saw Prince Wu’s side maneuvering forces over to cut them off.
“Sound the horn — open the formation to let Luo Jing in.”
The war horn sounded. The formation opened, and Luo Jing and those few hundred battered survivors were let through.
“Give me a cavalry unit!”
Luo Jing shouted at Tang Pidi: “I’m going to kill that old villain.”
Tang Pidi gave him a look and shook his head: “Dachu reinforcements have already arrived. Charging now only means throwing your life away — and the lives of my elite cavalry.”
He raised the command banner: “Cavalry pulls back — form the spear formation.”
He could see Prince Wu positioning his light cavalry for a charge, so he immediately moved to counter.
The first time he had ever faced an opponent like Prince Wu, Dachu’s God of War — and Tang Pidi felt not a trace of nerves. Only a faint excitement.
On the battlefield, he could control his emotions with near perfection.
That his opponent was Prince Wu was precisely why this perfection allowed a slight loosening.
Had his opponent been anyone else, Tang Pidi wouldn’t have had any emotional stir at all.
He understood clearly: any emotion, any kind, would affect his read of the battle.
At his command, the Ning army swiftly formed a spear formation — long spears like a forest, angled forward.
No commander, however foolish, would order light cavalry to charge a spear formation this dense.
Seeing the Ning army react so swiftly, Prince Wu immediately sounded the horn to redirect the light cavalry, splitting them to harass the Ning army’s flanks from both sides.
But by then, Tang Pidi had already pulled the Ning army cavalry back — ready at any moment to respond to threats from either side from behind the spear formation.
Prince Wu was attacking. Tang Pidi was defending.
But his defense was razor-sharp.
Whatever arrangement Prince Wu tried, he could not break the Ning army’s formation.
“Your Highness!”
A scout came riding hard from the distance, reining in before Prince Wu.
“Your Highness, there are more enemy forces coming from the north. The dust cloud is vast — many banners, it seems like at least tens of thousands of troops.”
Prince Wu, in fury, flung his riding crop to the ground.
“Sound the horn — consolidate the forces.”
The horn sounded again, and the Dachu forces scattered on all sides began converging toward Prince Wu.
If enemy reinforcements had truly arrived, this battle was going to be far harder to fight.
And at that moment, to the north, two thousand cavalry troops were dragging tree branches back and forth in a gallop, raising churning clouds of yellow dust that spread across the sky.
A Dachu scout seeing enemy forces arrive with that scale of dust and commotion — how could they not be alarmed?
Chapter 598: That Young General
Deep in the night.
The elite garrison soldiers of the Left Imperial Guard crept silently toward the Luo army camp in the darkness, like countless lost souls rising up from the earth.
In this world, to this day, no army had a combat record that could compare to the Left Imperial Guard.
Not among Dachu’s enemies — including the Black Wulin — and not anywhere else in the Dachu army itself.
Even Tang Pidi, for all his confidence, could not have claimed that the forces he had trained were superior to the Left Imperial Guard.
For nearly thirty years, since Prince Wu took command of this army, it had represented the highest fighting strength in the Central Plains.
The Left Imperial Guard — every soldier bore upon their person the imprint of supreme honor.
Every victory, every achievement, every glory that an army could ever claim — they had claimed it all.
Their strength lay not only in their combat power, but in a belief that surpassed the ordinary.
Belief is something that resists clear description — it cannot be made tangible.
Yet an army with belief and an army without are simply not in the same category.
The pride of the Left Imperial Guard’s soldiers — to this day, nothing could match it.
And for the sake of victory, they could give up everything.
In the darkness, advancing forward — every man had removed his shoes and wrapped his feet in cloth.
Not even the things that might make the slightest sound had been brought. They moved in silence.
Including their iron armor.
All the generals who were entitled to wear iron armor had left it in their camps.
They were the same as their soldiers — cloth single-layered garments, feet wrapped in cloth.
Every man’s long saber had likewise been left without its scabbard, to prevent collision and sound. To keep the moonlight from reflecting off the blades, every saber had been wrapped in cloth.
They advanced across the wasteland. How many had had their soles pierced, yet not a single man made a sound.
The unit assigned to the assault mission in particular had shed almost all of their load. No leather armor, no battle boots, no shields — not even repeating crossbows or bows and arrows.
Every man’s sole weapon was the standard-issue Dachu saber at their hip.
A Luo army patrol of perhaps several dozen men passed by. They all looked thoroughly exhausted. They had endured many nights like this, and every one seemed exactly the same as the last. They walked along chatting idly, not noticing that only a few tens of zhang away, countless Left Imperial Guard elites lay flat against the ground.
Once the patrol had passed, the Left Imperial Guard soldiers resumed crawling forward.
Standing on the wooden palisade wall, a sentry looked out into the distance. Out on the plain beyond the camp, there was not a shadow to be seen.
The sentry sighed, wondering when this kind of life would finally end.
“Left Imperial Guard!”
At that very moment, someone called out loudly from a dozen or so zhang beyond the palisade.
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
“Kill!”
The Left Imperial Guard elites rose from the ground and sprinted forward with full force.
At that distance, the Luo army soldiers on the palisade — whether asleep, or staring blankly into space, or busy chatting — had no time to loose a single arrow.
A group of Left Imperial Guard soldiers rushed to the camp gate and hacked at it with their long sabers in a frenzy, sparks flying in all directions. The iron chains fastened to the gate were hewn through by brute force alone, and the gate was knocked down. Several thousand advance troops, like tigers and leopards, poured into Guan Feicheng’s encampment.
Just as Prince Wu had anticipated, Guan Feicheng’s vanguard was the most severely depleted unit. Fifty thousand men — now barely eleven thousand remained.
It was precisely because this unit had suffered such catastrophic losses that Luo Jing had stationed them in the northernmost position to stand guard.
From the river crossing battle onward, Guan Feicheng’s forces had been charging in the vanguard all along — they had fought more engagements than any other unit on their side.
And so, precisely because of this, they were the most exhausted, the most war-weary. They had fought enough; they were tired of fighting. Few of them had any desire left to go back onto a battlefield.
“General!”
The bodyguards rushed into the command tent and roused Guan Feicheng from deep sleep: “General, get up quickly — Dachu forces have broken into the camp!”
“What!”
Guan Feicheng shot upright. He’d risen too fast — his head rang with a sudden reverberation, and everything spun dark for a moment.
Or perhaps that ringing came from the words: “Dachu forces have broken into the camp.”
“How is this possible?!”
Guan Feicheng strode outside, forgetting he hadn’t dressed properly and was without shoes.
“The Dachu forces appeared outside the camp out of nowhere and have already broken in — get to the main command post, quickly.”
“Sound the horn — sound the horn for battle!”
Guan Feicheng shouted as he ran out. When he reached the doorway, he could already see fires burning in the distance within the camp.
A Luo army soldier who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen was wailing as he ran, looking back over his shoulder as he fled.
He was terrified — truly terrified — and the sobbing that had been wrung out of him by sheer extremity of fear was distorted, shaking, the kind that made anyone who heard it feel a creeping dread.
“Don’t kill me!”
He screamed at the Dachu soldier chasing him from behind — a voice full of begging and despair, which did not move the pursuer even slightly.
“Don’t kill me! You can’t kill me — I don’t want to die!”
In the midst of that anguished wailing, one of the Dachu soldiers took several great strides to catch up from behind, leaped up, and drove a kick into the young man’s back.
The young man pitched to the ground. The Dachu soldier pounced on him and pinned him down.
With all his strength the young man flipped over, throwing the man from his back.
But before he could scramble up and run again he was pulled down once more, the Dachu soldier yanking him by his clothes.
The young man pulled and struggled desperately. He felt a sudden cold on his abdomen — the Dachu soldier had plunged a knife into his belly.
In the instant the young man froze with shock, the Dachu soldier had already pinned him beneath him again.
Only then did the young man react. He shook his head over and over, pleading without stop, palms pressed up against the Dachu soldier’s forearms.
His hands pushing up against the man’s arms — the sound of flesh against flesh, like soaked rope twisted together.
Sweat dripped down onto the young man’s face, mingling with his own.
“It’s not working… I’m begging you, don’t kill me… it’s not, please, don’t…”
Both men were giving everything they had. That grinding, rubbing sound became the sound of ropes twisted together straining under load — the sound of a rope that was about to snap.
The blade pressed down against the young man’s neck. He was still pleading.
With a soft sound, the knife cut into his neck.
The young man stopped pleading. His mouth hung open — opening again and again, trying to draw breath — but from the wound in his neck, blood came bubbling out with every effort.
A moment later, the Dachu soldier got up and charged on.
The young man lying on the ground seemed to be looking at the sky, but his eyes held only terror. He was dead, and he had not taken the terror with him.
“Report!”
A soldier rushed before Guan Feicheng and cried out urgently: “Dachu forces have reached the outer perimeter of the main command post — General, go quickly!”
“Go?!”
Guan Feicheng, who had only just thrown on his coat, went red-eyed.
“If I run now and the camp is taken, the Dachu forces will be able to strike at both flanks. Come with me — fight them back!”
He grabbed a long saber and charged forward with his bodyguards.
On the other side, the young general Gao Zhen — only sixteen years old — had woken the moment he heard the shouts, and had already fought his way through one engagement and back with his bodyguards.
But no matter how valiant he was, he could not hold back a Dachu army that came on like a flood.
“General Gao!”
Someone called to Gao Zhen: “There are encircled troops to your left front.”
“We break through to them!”
Gao Zhen leveled his long spear and spurred his horse forward.
He led over a hundred bodyguards into the Dachu forces, and saw ahead of them several hundred Anyang army soldiers who had been surrounded.
After cutting through the Dachu forces, Gao Zhen pulled those men out of the encirclement and led them all in continuing to fight.
“General Gao!”
Soldiers breaking out from the forward line shouted out: “General Guan is trapped ahead — we can’t get in!”
Gao Zhen spurred his horse: “I’ll go!”
And so led his forces charging back into the Dachu ranks once more.
From the hour of Zi onward, he had been fighting for more than a full shichen. Gao Zhen had charged back and forth across the battlefield multiple times, and had rescued over a thousand men in the process.
After more than a shichen, he finally located the trapped Guan Feicheng.
He led his forces cutting through the encirclement — but Guan Feicheng was already barely clinging to life. Only a few dozen men remained at his side, driven back against a wall.
Gao Zhen cut through the siege and leaped from his horse, supporting Guan Feicheng: “General Guan, I’ll get you out.”
“Gao Zhen!”
When Guan Feicheng saw Gao Zhen, his eyes flickered with a momentary light.
His blood-soaked hand gripped Gao Zhen’s arm: “Go, quickly — quickly, go find the young general. Go now.”
In his dying moments, he seemed to have forgotten that Luo Jing had been enfeoffed as King of Ji — he only remembered that Luo Jing was his young general.
“I’ll get you out first.”
Gao Zhen began to lift Guan Feicheng. But there was not a trace of strength left in Guan Feicheng’s body. When Gao Zhen raised him upright, his intestines were already spilling out.
The moment he was lifted, they hung down — slick and glistening.
“Just go — go now…”
Guan Feicheng shook his head: “Tell the young general for me — tell him Guan Feicheng could not hold the camp. I have failed him. I have failed the old general.”
With those words spoken, Guan Feicheng’s head dropped, and he died.
“Ahh!”
Gao Zhen let out a roar.
Guan Feicheng had asked Luo Jing for him, and had treated him extremely well — like an elder brother. Gao Zhen, too, regarded Guan Feicheng as his own elder brother.
Now, watching Guan Feicheng die before his eyes, Gao Zhen’s expression was full of grief and fury.
“I will take you out of here. I won’t let the enemy dishonor your body.”
He crouched down, tucked Guan Feicheng’s intestines back inside, tore off a strip of his clothing, and bound the wound. Then he directed his men to strap Guan Feicheng’s body to his own back.
With a dead man on his back, Gao Zhen mounted his horse once more: “Follow me! We fight out of here!”
This young general led his men and charged straight into the enemy.
Another half a shichen passed. In the darkness, fighting and fires raged everywhere, and Gao Zhen had long since lost his sense of direction. The force he led had gone from over a thousand men at the start to only three or four hundred.
Dachu forces kept pouring in from the south without end. Every attempt he made to link up with Luo Jing was beaten back.
After several failed attempts, he looked back at the body still strapped to his back, and Gao Zhen let out a roar.
The young general ordered a turn to the north, and led those few hundred men clear of the fighting.
By the time daylight came, they stopped in a small grove of trees. Gao Zhen set down Guan Feicheng’s body.
“Big Brother Guan, I can only bury you here. I have no way to bring you to the King of Ji. Burying you here at least means the enemy cannot dishonor your body. I still have to go back to rescue the King of Ji.”
He dug the earth himself, in the grove of trees, and buried Guan Feicheng.
“You need not follow me — I’ll go back alone.”
Gao Zhen looked at his men — those faces, worn to the bone with exhaustion and dishevelment.
“The King of Ji has shown me great kindness, and I must go back and repay it. Your martial skills are not equal to mine — going back would only mean throwing your lives away. Head north now, and return to Anyang City to seek reinforcements. If relief forces come, this battle may still be turned around — it need not be a complete defeat.”
His men tried to dissuade him. He only shook his head.
“Follow my military order. Get back to Anyang as quickly as possible. On no account say that the King of Ji is trapped — say only that at the critical moment of battle, troop strength is insufficient. If you say the King of Ji is surrounded, those people may not come.”
Gao Zhen shouted: “Whether reinforcements arrive or not — I am placing that in your hands. And there is one more thing I entrust to you: if you return and learn that I have already died, please take the trouble to go and inform my family.”
He brought his fists together in salute.
Then he wheeled his horse around and charged south.
In the morning light, the young general’s silhouette was tall and upright.
—
# Chapter 599: No Way Forward, No Way Back
The sixteen-year-old young general Gao Zhen charged back alone toward the battlefield.
In the moment he turned south, he gave no thought to whether he feared death or not — only that he had to go and repay his debt of gratitude.
In his eyes, without Luo Jing there would be no version of himself that existed today. Luo Jing had given him a new identity and allowed his whole family to live well — even the entire village had come to live well because of this. That kind of grace was worth repaying with one’s life.
In the eyes of a young man like Gao Zhen, the world held no “should” or “shouldn’t.”
Only “dare” or “don’t dare,” and “do” or “don’t do.”
“Should and shouldn’t” was the kind of thing middle-aged people mulled over. The older you got, the more of that mulling you did.
It was precisely because he thought about it less that he had a chestful of reckless courage.
This battle would forge Gao Zhen’s name.
He charged back to the battlefield alone, on one horse. By then the Anyang army’s various camps in the north had already collapsed.
Gao Zhen rallied routed soldiers as he went, stopping to ask the whereabouts of the King of Ji wherever he could.
He started out alone — and after two shichen of fighting, he had rescued several thousand men.
Named generals in Prince Wu’s forces, from those of the fifth rank to those of the fourth rank — counting them up, he had single-handedly cut down over a dozen of them.
So much so that Prince Wu himself, busy directing the containment of Luo Jing, heard this name and was compelled to detach forces to block him.
Without Gao Zhen’s return strike, the scattered Anyang forces in the north would have fled, been captured, or been killed.
On his own strength alone, by midday he had gathered together a force of nearly ten thousand men.
On the northern part of the battlefield, Prince Wu’s forces could not hold the line wherever they encountered Gao Zhen.
For one thing, Gao Zhen’s martial skills were genuinely formidable, and moreover he had no fear of death. A young man like this, once his mind was set on dying if need be, stopped thinking of anything else — and in this way actually seemed to move with divine aid, entering formations as though there were no one there.
For another, Prince Wu’s main forces were almost entirely occupied with surrounding Luo Jing, so the forces left behind in the north to mop up the Anyang army were not numerous.
It was precisely because of Gao Zhen’s force that Luo Jing’s troops attempting a northern breakout had support waiting to receive them.
On the battlefield itself, Luo Jing was something close to an unstoppable force — yet he was still only one man, however brave. What could one man’s valor do against a situation completely lost?
He had no choice but to lead his elite Tiger-Leopard Cavalry in a northern breakout — only to be repeatedly blocked by Prince Wu, who commanded from an elevated position and kept redirecting forces wherever Luo Jing’s men advanced.
Prince Wu directed from the high ground: wherever he saw Luo Jing’s forces heading, he pointed the great banner in that direction. And so the Dachu forces closed in layer upon layer, and Luo Jing charged left and right, still unable to break free of the trap.
Just as the Dachu forces were on the verge of completing the encirclement, Gao Zhen arrived with his force.
Gao Zhen saw that the Dachu forces were densely packed in that area and all their movements pointed to the same location — he guessed the King of Ji must be there.
And so, after fighting through an entire night and half a day, he launched yet another charge.
Luo Jing at that moment was like a fierce tiger cornered by countless hunters — everywhere he charged was still an ocean of men, and though none could withstand him, he seemed mired in mud, unable to break free no matter how he fought.
Gao Zhen, on the other hand, had fixed on a single direction and cut through relentlessly — and since the Dachu forces had not specifically concentrated against him, he managed to carve out a path through.
Luo Jing saw the northern line cut open by someone breaking through, and his spirits surged. He led his forces to meet them.
After linking up with Luo Jing, Gao Zhen immediately turned back the way he came and fought his way through.
These two men — one with a lance, one with a spear — opened the way like two ferocious tigers charging side by side.
Watching helplessly as Luo Jing was pulled out to safety, Prince Wu, in a surge of fury, dashed his spyglass to the ground.
Prince Wu called out loudly: “If this battle does not kill Luo Jing, it will be far harder to kill him in the future!”
And so Prince Wu personally led his forces in pursuit.
The battlefield was a full hundred li from the Nanping River. Luo Jing and Gao Zhen, with their battered remnants, drove hard toward the north.
When they were nearly at the south bank of the Nanping River and still saw no relief forces, Luo Jing understood — the garrison left in Anyang had harbored treacherous intent.
Gao Zhen had earlier sent men back to fetch reinforcements. By any reckoning, there had been more than enough time.
Yet now they were already almost at the Nanping River, and there was not a single soldier or horse to be seen from Anyang’s direction.
Luo Jing erupted in fury. He told Gao Zhen that if he could cross the river and get back, he would make sure those treacherous small men understood what price they would pay.
But just as they were approaching the Nanping River, less than twenty li from the bank, Prince Wu personally led his great army to overtake them.
Prince Wu’s most fearsome troops — his cavalry — had by now caught up. And the Left Imperial Guard’s cavalry, among all the Dachu garrison cavalry forces, had to rank first.
With less than twenty li left to the river, their forces were caught again from behind. Luo Jing understood how dire this was.
If they didn’t turn and fight, the Left Imperial Guard cavalry would cling to the rear of his formation and cut them down from behind. Every soldier who had ever served knew what it meant to completely expose your back to the enemy.
But if they turned to fight, they would quickly be surrounded by Prince Wu’s forces.
On one side: death. On the other side: also death.
Left with no other option, Luo Jing could only send men back again to call for reinforcements — he had tens of thousands of troops in garrison at Anyang, and if they could be brought in time, there was still a chance.
Gao Zhen offered to hold back Prince Wu’s pursuing forces, asking Luo Jing to go back personally — but by this point Gao Zhen was nearly spent and could barely hold on.
Luo Jing’s most trusted man, Luo Zhijie, immediately volunteered, leading the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry as the rearguard.
Luo Zhijie said to Luo Jing: “Young general, only if you go back personally will the men in Anyang be afraid. Seeing you return will shake their nerve and they won’t dare defy you. If you send someone else, I’m afraid they’ll be like the men General Gao sent back earlier — unable to bring any reinforcements at all.”
Luo Jing shook his head: “You go instead. You are entirely capable of speaking for me — bring the reinforcements back and then come for me.”
Luo Zhijie shook his head: “Young general, please stop arguing. Go quickly and come back quickly — I’ll hold the pursuit. It would be the better plan for you to come back and retrieve me.”
He turned and called out: “Tiger-Leopard Cavalry — follow me back to stop the pursuing forces and buy time for the young general!”
The Tiger-Leopard Cavalry immediately wheeled their horses around and rode back with Luo Zhijie to engage.
With no other choice, Luo Jing and Gao Zhen led their small remaining force in a push back north.
But they had barely covered two or three li when, from a forest ahead, ambushing troops burst out.
As it turned out, Prince Wu had long since stationed a force in ambush here. They had been lying in wait for more than a month.
This unit had been in place before Luo Jing’s army ever forced the crossing of the Nanping River.
Per Prince Wu’s instructions, this unit was not to move no matter what happened in the battle. Whenever they saw Luo Jing fleeing in defeat, they were to intercept at this very spot.
Unless they saw Luo Jing broken and in retreat — or unless new orders came from Prince Wu — they were absolutely not to stir. This was a standing order.
This unit had long been unable to contain themselves. For over a month they had remained concealed here. The impatience they felt can only be imagined.
Now, seeing Luo Jing truly in retreat, their morale surged. Over ten thousand men came bursting out and completely sealed off Luo Jing’s escape route.
With no alternative, Luo Jing could only fight while retreating alongside Gao Zhen, falling back to link up with Luo Zhijie again.
—
Among the Dachu forces.
Prince Wu raised his spyglass and studied the battle ahead, his expression still stern.
“The Tiger-Leopard Cavalry that Luo Jing trained is truly remarkable.”
He spoke as he watched: “It must be said — there are few men in the present age who can rival Luo Jing. As a martial artist, he has virtually no equal; across the battlefield, there is not a man who can blunt his edge. As a trainer of soldiers, he produced the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry — the sharpest light cavalry in the land — and there are few who can match that either. A man like this, if he does not die today, the threat he poses in the future will far surpass whatever trouble he causes today.”
One of his subordinate generals said: “From the flags, Luo Jing is still among the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry. It seems he sent others north to seek reinforcements.”
Prince Wu shook his head: “The Tiger-Leopard Cavalry is still the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry — but in my eyes, their fighting edge is far diminished.”
He spurred his horse forward: “Let’s get closer.”
His subordinates immediately cautioned him — the fighting ahead was fierce, and moving closer would be dangerous.
Prince Wu showed displeasure and demanded: “Should a commanding general be afraid of the battlefield?”
And so led his people forward.
From outside the battle lines, Prince Wu raised his spyglass once more and studied the scene, then said after a moment: “Just as I thought — the one leading the force is not Luo Jing.”
He turned to give orders: “Move my personal command force back ten li and set up ambushes on both sides of the main road. Leave only the personal guard battalion here, and raise my command banner high.”
Prince Wu’s expression was calm, but his eyes brimmed with absolute confidence: “First destroy Luo Jing’s Tiger-Leopard Cavalry, then destroy Luo Jing himself… a pity for these elites — after this, the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry will exist no more in this world.”
At his command, the main forces under his direct command withdrew, leaving only a thousand-odd personal guard troops behind him.
“Bring the war drums forward.”
Prince Wu said: “Beat them loud.”
Not long after, Luo Zhijie, who had been leading the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry in battle, suddenly heard the sound of war drums.
He looked toward it — and saw Prince Wu’s command banner at a glance.
“All officers, follow me! Strike at that old villain’s central command — he has few men with him and he’s directing from the rear. Shatter his central command and the Dachu forces’ direction will fall into chaos — it may be our chance to turn defeat into victory!”
The moment Luo Zhijie spotted Prince Wu with only about a thousand men around him, and saw the Dachu forces all around moving in response to the war drums — he made his judgment instantly.
“Tiger-Leopard Cavalry! Follow me through!”
Luo Zhijie took the lead.
Seeing the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry charging toward him, Prince Wu smiled faintly and said: “The men under Luo Jing are as reckless as Luo Jing himself. What a pity that this is not Luo Jing leading in person — or he too would have died at this very moment.”
He waved a hand: “Let’s go.”
He wheeled his horse and withdrew with the personal guard battalion.
Luo Zhijie saw Prince Wu in flight — how could he let him go?
An opportunity like this placed before one’s eyes — even Luo Jing himself, if he were here, would have made the same choice.
The Tiger-Leopard Cavalry pursued without relenting. After pursuing for a stretch, Prince Wu’s force was right ahead of them, and Luo Zhijie cried out: “Kill that old villain!”
But at that moment, ambushes rose on all sides — the forces Prince Wu had ordered to withdraw earlier had been positioned in ambush on the high slopes to both sides.
Arrows fell from the sky in a downpour, and the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry suffered heavy casualties on the spot. Light cavalry, in order to maximize speed, had to minimize load — which meant their armor was thin and offered little protection. The best way to counter a light cavalry charge was an arrow barrage.
Arrows pouring in from the high slopes on both sides — dense enough to make the scalp tingle.
The Dachu infantry following behind cut off the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry’s retreat, while Prince Wu himself led forces from the front to block them.
The Tiger-Leopard Cavalry was pinned in place — unable to advance, unable to retreat.
The Dachu forces loosed arrows in a relentless barrage. A peerless light cavalry that had dominated Jizhou without meeting a worthy opponent was slaughtered alive in that spot.
Luo Zhijie, with only a hundred-odd men around him, had no chance of breaking through.
“Tiger-Leopard Cavalry!”
Luo Zhijie’s eyes were almost bleeding. He stared at Prince Wu in the distance — separated by such a great span — yet it seemed he could even see the satisfied expression on Prince Wu’s face.
“Charge the formation!”
Luo Zhijie roared one final time and, with those last hundred-odd men, launched a final charge.
In the moment Luo Jing and Gao Zhen came fighting back, they saw Luo Zhijie leading the last remnant of the Tiger-Leopard Cavalry in their charge.
And Luo Jing watched with his own eyes as Luo Zhijie was speared through by Prince Wu.
That white-haired old commander — the valor of ten thousand men still in him.
Prince Wu hoisted Luo Zhijie aloft on his lance and held him high.
“Ahh!”
At the instant Luo Jing saw Luo Zhijie run through, he unleashed a howl that seemed capable of tearing the sky asunder.
Prince Wu, with Luo Zhijie’s body raised on the lance, slowly turned to face the direction where Luo Jing’s forces stood.
In that moment, Luo Jing felt his heart and guts splinter.
—
# Chapter 600: Then Who Is That?!
Luo Jing and Gao Zhen had been making their way back to Anyang to call for reinforcements — yet here they were, less than twenty li from the Nanping River, unable to get through.
Prince Wu Yang Jiju’s ambush force, positioned here in advance, had burst out and cut off the way. With too few men, Luo Jing and Gao Zhen had no choice but to fight while retreating.
As they fought their way back, Luo Jing was still thinking: if things came to it, they would link back up with Luo Zhijie, and with his elite Tiger-Leopard Cavalry, break east to avoid the encirclement. They wouldn’t cross the Nanping River just yet — first shake the pursuing forces, then find an opportunity to cross and get back.
Once back, the first order of business was to put every last one of those useless cowards left garrisoning Anyang to the sword.
But in the moment he and Gao Zhen came fighting back, he watched helplessly as his closest companion was run through by Prince Wu on a single lance.
Luo Zhijie’s body hung on that great lance as blood ran down the shaft.
Prince Wu’s expression was one of contemptuous disdain.
“If you were Luo Jing, you might still have had the strength to fight old me to the death. Pity you are not.”
He turned to face Luo Jing’s direction, looked at that small force, and even Prince Wu — a man of such composed bearing — could not help but break into loud laughter.
He deliberately did not shake the body from the lance but kept it hoisted high.
How could Luo Jing endure this?
“Ahh!”
Luo Jing let out a roar, his eyes on the verge of bursting from their sockets.
“You old villain!”
Luo Jing spurred his horse forward.
At the very moment the horse surged ahead, Gao Zhen seized the reins and hauled them back.
“King of Ji, do not act rashly.”
Gao Zhen held the reins: “That old villain is deliberately goading you, forcing you to come to him.”
“Luo Zhijie was my closest kin!”
Luo Jing roared: “I must avenge him — let go immediately!”
He spurred his horse again.
Gao Zhen knew that if Luo Jing charged in, death was certain. He refused to release his grip no matter what.
“My lord, break out for now, and avenge General Luo another day. As long as you are well, what fear is there that you cannot one day kill that old villain?”
“Get out of my way!”
In his fury Luo Jing hadn’t thought it through — and brought the riding crop down against Gao Zhen’s forehead.
Gao Zhen had been fighting too long; his iron helmet had been lost somewhere along the way. The crop came down, and the blow split his forehead open on the spot.
Within moments, blood poured down his face.
Yet Gao Zhen still refused to let go: “My lord! Let me go avenge General Luo — you lead the forces back and hold for now. I beg you to hear this one counsel.”
Luo Jing raised his hand, the riding crop poised to come down a second time against Gao Zhen — but in that instant, looking at this youth, face drenched in blood, something in Luo Jing’s heart twisted with pain.
That face covered in blood struck him hard, and jolted some clarity back into him.
He angled his hand aside, and the crop swung wide.
“I and Zhijie share no blood, yet all these years he has been like a blood elder brother to me. In my heart, he was my elder brother…”
As Luo Jing spoke, tears streamed down his face unstoppably.
“If I cannot avenge him, how can I ever face him.”
“My lord, even if you killed the old villain now, you would be deep in an encirclement, and if you suffered any mishap — trading the three of us for that one old villain, would that not be far too great a loss? While the hills remain green there will always be firewood; vengeance is only delayed by a little.”
Gao Zhen said: “My lord, lead the forces east to break out. I will go first.”
Luo Jing looked at the wound on Gao Zhen’s forehead. Gao Zhen didn’t care in the slightest — he raised his hand and wiped the blood off his face in a rough smear: “It’s nothing. Please, my lord, cover the rear.”
Luo Jing reached out and gripped Gao Zhen by the arm: “We leave together. If we fight our way out today, we go out together. If we can’t fight our way out, we die together.”
The two of them wheeled their horses and broke for the east.
By now the Dachu forces that had been pursuing from the north had also arrived, completing the encirclement around Luo Jing once more.
“Ha ha ha ha!”
Prince Wu Yang Jiju laughed aloud.
“In my view, the most fierce and battle-ready man in the northern territories is this Luo Jing. Yet he is a man of courage without strategy.”
“If he were given another five or ten years, this man would become a grave threat. Eliminating him in this battle will settle the north.”
“In all my long years at war, Luo Jing’s valor is among the rarest I have ever witnessed — what a pity his gifts are wasted.”
He extended his hand and pointed toward where Luo Jing was fighting: “Whoever kills Luo Jing today — heavily rewarded!”
“Kill!”
At the call of the war horn, the Left Imperial Guard soldiers began closing in from all directions.
“My lord, you take the rear.”
Young general Gao Zhen tore off a strip of cloth and bound the wound on his head, then gripped his long spear and spurred his horse into a charge.
The force at their sides was truly too thin — barely a thousand men.
And the Dachu forces closing in from all sides numbered at least in the tens of thousands.
Even if both Luo Jing and Gao Zhen were men of ten-thousand-man valor, breaking through had become almost impossible.
“Today, even if the Great Golden Immortal himself came down from the heavens, he could not save him.”
Prince Wu laughed with pride.
In his life, he had fought through countless battles, and seen how many brilliant generals?
Whether on his own side or the enemy’s — the extraordinarily gifted and talented men he had seen numbered many, many indeed.
And yet not one of those extraordinarily gifted and talented men had ever won against Prince Wu.
Prince Wu’s forces were perhaps the last honorable plaque of glory for the Dachu garrison army.
There were those who had once said that Dachu should have fallen long ago.
Yet it was precisely because of the invincibly battle-hardened garrison troops that even as the country crumbled and ceased to be a functioning state, the fighting strength of the Dachu garrison forces remained terrifying.
The nation of Dachu was like a giant — a giant whose body had grown old and decrepit, whose flesh and blood had all rotted, whose mind had gone, whose organs had all given out.
And the garrison forces were the bones of that giant Dachu. Those bones, against all odds, were still hard — and so they barely kept the giant upright.
Sustained by the power of the garrison forces, Dachu had extended its life for many years.
And further, because of Prince Wu’s invincibility, Dachu had borrowed another twenty years.
Prince Wu sat on horseback, pointing in the direction where Luo Jing was fighting and laughing: “Young men like him are rare in all the world — yet they still fall before this old man.”
“It is said that in a turbulent age one must not provoke young men, yet in my view, all the so-called brilliantly gifted young men in this world still fall somewhat short.”
He raised his palm and turned it back and forth: “What I hold in this hand is their youth and fighting edge.”
A great victory had filled Prince Wu with heroic elation, as though he had suddenly grown twenty years younger.
He looked toward Luo Jing’s position and laughed: “Luo Geng ought to smile even in death — to have a son such as this is something to be proud of.”
“After killing Luo Jing in this battle, I will send men to bury his body on the banks of the Nanping River, raise a tomb and a stele, as a warning to those who come after.”
At this, Prince Wu beckoned with his hand: “We’ll go over too — let’s watch how Luo Jing, like a headless fly, blunders about and tries to shatter walls of bronze and iron.”
One of his subordinate generals said with a laugh: “There is no one in the world who can shatter the Prince’s walls of bronze and iron.”
Prince Wu laughed heartily.
Laughing, he suddenly went rigid.
Just as he was about to spur his horse forward, he looked up and caught sight of a vast expanse of blazing crimson banners appearing in the north.
That force — no one knew from where it came — arrived like wind, surged like fire.
With the speed of boiling water thrown on snow, it shattered in an instant the Dachu blocking force on the northern side.
“Where did this enemy force come from?!”
Prince Wu’s expression changed dramatically.
He raised his spyglass to look — and saw that the force moved not only with extraordinary speed but with astonishing fighting strength.
The Dachu forces on the northern side were the unit Prince Wu had left on the south bank of the Nanping River as an ambush against Luo Jing. This unit had not fought at all for the duration — concealed in the forest for over a month, this was their first engagement. So whether in energy, physical strength, or fighting spirit, they were at their absolute peak.
Yet this unit held for barely any time at all before being broken by that force flying crimson banners.
Although this unit was not part of the Left Imperial Guard, they were still elite garrison soldiers.
Through the spyglass, Prince Wu saw a young general clad in iron armor, wielding an iron spear, leading a group of warriors — sweeping forward like a blade thrust clean through, then swiftly tearing outward to both sides.
Within moments, the Dachu forces were split in two.
“Tang?”
Prince Wu saw the banner the force was flying and could not help murmuring to himself: “And who is this?!”
“Could it be the Jizhou forces?”
Someone offered a prompt.
In truth Prince Wu had already guessed — he just wasn’t willing to admit it.
He couldn’t believe a band of rebels could have fighting strength like this.
Looking at that force flying Ning army banners — the quality of their equipment, the speed of their movements, the seamlessness of their coordination, the strength of their battle formations — how was any of this like rebels?
Troop-type coordination with not a single gap: this way of fighting, even Prince Wu’s own Left Imperial Guard would only be about on par.
“How can Jizhou have elite forces of this caliber?”
Prince Wu’s eyes widened further and further.
Precisely because he was the peerless Prince Wu, precisely because he was Dachu’s unrivaled God of War — he could see further and higher than others, and see things with greater clarity.
This Ning army that had just appeared — its fighting strength far exceeded that of Luo Jing’s Anyang army.
“Dispatch support immediately!”
Prince Wu shouted out at once.
War horns sounded, and the forces on all sides began moving toward the Ning army.
—
On the battlefield.
After cutting through the Dachu forces, Tang Pidi ordered the whole army to shout aloud.
In the midst of his breakout attempt, Luo Jing looked back and saw the Dachu forces in the north had been cut open. The two men were overjoyed.
“Ha ha ha ha…”
In that moment of desperate crisis, Luo Jing spotted the Ning army banner, spotted the Tang banner — and could not help laughing to the sky.
“Ha ha ha ha… Heaven has not forsaken me!”
He called out to Gao Zhen: “It’s my brother Tang Pidi — follow me to him! My brother Li Chi sent him to rescue us!”
With that shout, his small number of remaining bodyguards charged with him toward Tang Pidi’s direction.
Tang Pidi saw Luo Jing already fighting his way back toward them, and at the same time saw Prince Wu’s side maneuvering forces over to cut them off.
“Sound the horn — open the formation to let Luo Jing in.”
The war horn sounded. The formation opened, and Luo Jing and those few hundred battered survivors were let through.
“Give me a cavalry unit!”
Luo Jing shouted at Tang Pidi: “I’m going to kill that old villain.”
Tang Pidi gave him a look and shook his head: “Dachu reinforcements have already arrived. Charging now only means throwing your life away — and the lives of my elite cavalry.”
He raised the command banner: “Cavalry pulls back — form the spear formation.”
He could see Prince Wu positioning his light cavalry for a charge, so he immediately moved to counter.
The first time he had ever faced an opponent like Prince Wu, Dachu’s God of War — and Tang Pidi felt not a trace of nerves. Only a faint excitement.
On the battlefield, he could control his emotions with near perfection.
That his opponent was Prince Wu was precisely why this perfection allowed a slight loosening.
Had his opponent been anyone else, Tang Pidi wouldn’t have had any emotional stir at all.
He understood clearly: any emotion, any kind, would affect his read of the battle.
At his command, the Ning army swiftly formed a spear formation — long spears like a forest, angled forward.
No commander, however foolish, would order light cavalry to charge a spear formation this dense.
Seeing the Ning army react so swiftly, Prince Wu immediately sounded the horn to redirect the light cavalry, splitting them to harass the Ning army’s flanks from both sides.
But by then, Tang Pidi had already pulled the Ning army cavalry back — ready at any moment to respond to threats from either side from behind the spear formation.
Prince Wu was attacking. Tang Pidi was defending.
But his defense was razor-sharp.
Whatever arrangement Prince Wu tried, he could not break the Ning army’s formation.
“Your Highness!”
A scout came riding hard from the distance, reining in before Prince Wu.
“Your Highness, there are more enemy forces coming from the north. The dust cloud is vast — many banners, it seems like at least tens of thousands of troops.”
Prince Wu, in fury, flung his riding crop to the ground.
“Sound the horn — consolidate the forces.”
The horn sounded again, and the Dachu forces scattered on all sides began converging toward Prince Wu.
If enemy reinforcements had truly arrived, this battle was going to be far harder to fight.
And at that moment, to the north, two thousand cavalry troops were dragging tree branches back and forth in a gallop, raising churning clouds of yellow dust that spread across the sky.
A Dachu scout seeing enemy forces arrive with that scale of dust and commotion — how could they not be alarmed?