On the mass burial ground, a certain tombstone suddenly moved slightly, then slowly slid aside to reveal a dark opening. Two guards carefully lifted out a bed crossbow.

They had been lurking here for an entire night. Though the tunnel dug by Mo Huaizhong, who claimed to be a direct descendant of the legendary earth-burrowing Tu Xingsun, was quite skillfully made with good ventilation, the sunless place was still stifling. Thus, upon emerging, they couldn’t help but exhale deeply.

Looking at the opposing Yan and southern armies in the distance, with banners flying and the sounds of men and horses, a great battle was about to begin.

The two guards couldn’t help but look with great admiration at Meng Jianqing, who emerged from the tunnel behind them. While Mo Huaizhong’s ability to dig such a tunnel under the noses of the Yan army patrol was certainly impressive, Meng Jianqing’s ability to so accurately select the location for digging and timing for concealment was even more remarkable.

Meng Jianqing lay prone nearby, raising his telescope to search for his target.

The Yan army’s vanguard was Han Xiaotian. This young man of outstanding natural talent and cynical disposition had graduated first in his class from Jiangwu Hall and been summoned to serve under Prince Yan. Leading an army alone, he was known as “Biyi” (Overwhelming). In every battle, he served as vanguard, and none could withstand his charge. If they could kill him, Prince Yan would surely be heartbroken.

The two guards crouched on the ground, adjusting their positions. The strong crossbow that normally required five men to operate could now be operated by just the two guards working together, thanks to the trigger mechanism Wei Huan had added during modification. Meng Jianqing loaded fifty arrows, their freshly poisoned heads gleaming dark blue in the autumn sun.

The Yan army beat their drums, and Han Xiaotian with his Biyi army began their charge.

Meng Jianqing measured the distance and gave a low command. Fifty poisoned arrows flew true, aimed at Han Xiaotian’s direct path. Someone in the Yan army had spotted the arrows cutting through the air and shouted a warning. Though Han Xiaotian also saw them, in his headlong charge, he couldn’t rein in his galloping horse in time, nor could he speed up enough to escape the coverage of the arrow volley. Several personal guards riding close beside him simultaneously leaped from their saddles, throwing themselves forward to shield their commander with their bodies, but it was too late.

Han Xiaotian brandished his long spear and deflected over ten crossbow bolts, but three still struck him.

He swayed and finally fell desperately from his horse.

The deep autumn sky was azure and clear, so pure and transparent, as if it were the pristine, dustless world in his heart.

He felt his entire body suddenly become light, rising upward, ascending toward that bright sky, merging into a field of white light, his heart filled with peaceful joy.

Han Xiaotian slowly closed his eyes. The unwillingness and despair on his face gradually disappeared, becoming as peaceful as if he were sleeping soundly.

The telescope in the distance had been tracking him throughout, and only now, confirming his death, was it lowered.

Meng Jianqing secretly exhaled, his heart suddenly filled with nameless emotion, even a trace of melancholy.

Over twenty others who had also been struck by arrows fell from their horses one after another, leaving only riderless warhorses still galloping forward.

The southern army’s commanding general immediately seized this opportunity to beat the drums and advance.

In the chaos of battle between the two armies, even if someone wanted to break away to pursue the source of the deadly arrows, they would probably be powerless to do so. This was the perfect opportunity for their retreat.

But Meng Jianqing suddenly looked up at the sky.

Above the blue sky, a gray hawk was circling and dancing overhead, its posture vigorous and graceful. Following the hawk’s dance, a Yan force quickly inserted itself into the empty ground between the mass burial ground and the southern army, cutting off their most convenient route of retreat to the southern forces. Another Yan force was flanking them from the other side.

Meng Jianqing’s expression darkened slightly. He ordered a retreat while simultaneously severing the crossbow’s trigger mechanism with one stroke. The two guards understood and destroyed the various components as much as possible. The weapons they couldn’t take with them couldn’t be left for others to exploit.

The other guard hiding in a small grove a li away, watching the horses, heard the whistle signal and came galloping with four horses. The four men barely managed to break through before the Yan army completed their encirclement. However, their most convenient return route had been cut off, so they could only flee eastward. The eastern terrain was hilly with occasional groves, perfect for blocking the scattered arrows the Yan army kept shooting at them.

While they hunted Yan army generals, they had become targets of the Yan army’s hunt.

Meng Jianqing’s destination was the mountain range thirty li away. As long as they could reach the mountains before their Yan pursuers, it would be their domain.

When the pursuing Yan army passed through a sparse hazel grove, a thin rope was suddenly stretched between two large trees. The deputy general, charging at the front, was caught off guard and flew from his horse, falling to the ground. A guard hidden behind a tree in the wild grass darted out from the side, embracing the deputy general’s head with his left hand while slitting his throat with his right. The several Yan cavalry following behind were blocked by the fallen horse in front, causing some confusion. Had they not all been carefully selected elite cavalry, they might have been tripped up en masse.

The guard who had stayed behind to cover the retreat leaped onto a nearby hazel tree. As the Yan army drew bows to shoot, he had already pounced onto another tree. After several bounds, he reached the forest edge, deflected incoming arrows with his blade, and leaped down behind a Yan cavalryman, striking him down with one blow. He seized the horse and fled toward the southeast.

The Yan army detached a ten-man squad to pursue the lone fleeing guard. After some confusion, the main force continued its tight pursuit of the other three.

Meng Jianqing, who had already exchanged clothes with one of the guards, lay prone on his saddle. Looking back at the pursuing ten-man squad, he estimated they were far enough from the main force. He slightly slowed his horse’s pace, and as the distance closed, most of the arrows shot at him struck his horse’s body. The horse could endure no more and, after running a few steps, neighed loudly and collapsed. Meng Jianqing rolled from the saddle with the motion.

The ten-man squad approached rapidly and had him surrounded in the blink of an eye. The squad leader reined in his horse, looked him over, and said: “General Zhang has ordered that if you surrender, your life will be spared!”

Meng Jianqing thought for a moment, then slowly relaxed his right hand, letting his short knife fall to the ground. The squad leader secretly breathed a sigh of relief and gestured. Two Yan soldiers dismounted on orders to bind Meng Jianqing. Just as they approached, Meng Jianqing suddenly stepped on the knife handle. The short knife sprang up, and he kicked it with another foot. The knife whistled and tumbled through the air, striking the squad leader in the chest. The squad leader cried out and fell headfirst from his horse. Meng Jianqing spread his hands, and two small knives slit the throats of the two Yan soldiers who had come to bind him.

Prince Yan’s military discipline was strict. With the squad leader dead, no one in the small squad dared retreat. They shouted and spurred their horses to attack. Meng Jianqing rolled on the ground to the squad leader’s side, drew the Hundred-Fold Sword embedded in the man’s chest, and with a backhand stroke severed two horse legs behind him. The Yan soldier who had been leaning down to strike with his sword was carried forward by momentum. Meng Jianqing flicked his left hand, and a small knife pierced the man’s back.

After several charges, no one in the ten-man squad survived.

Meng Jianqing retrieved his sword and tore several strips from the Yan soldiers’ clothing to bind a knife wound on his body, preventing blood drops from leaving a trail. He then leaned against a horse’s belly, drank some water, ate some dry rations, and rested briefly. Looking up at the sky, the sun was already declining westward. He wondered whether the other three had successfully escaped into the mountains.

Surveying the wilderness, there were no signs of people nearby, only several surviving riderless warhorses wandering and neighing. The hunting hawk had also flown far toward the mountains.

Meng Jianqing raised his horse whip and lashed wildly, scattering the warhorses in all directions. He mounted one horse himself, crouched low on the saddle, and galloped urgently toward the hazel grove where he had previously hidden. Upon entering the grove, he leaped from the horse and whipped it, sending it running chaotically away as well.

Meng Jianqing found a spot close to a half-withered old tree in the direction away from the mountains. He carefully crawled into a small hole he had dug, pulled over the dead branches and leaves piled nearby to cover the entrance, regulated his breathing, and closed his eyes.

Of the other three guards being pursued by the Yan army, two imitated Meng Jianqing by abandoning their horses and hiding in a thicket, blocking the path and creating the illusion that they were protecting the guard dressed in officer’s clothing to ensure his safe escape. The Yan army indeed fell for the ruse, detaching only two ten-man squads to fight while the main force continued pursuing the disguised guard.

At sunset, at the foot of the mountains, the Yan army successfully caught up with the guard, but could only bring back his suicide corpse. Of the other two guards, one died in battle while the other was severely wounded but successfully escaped.

After the main Yan force returned to camp, they discovered that the corpse they had brought back was fake. Though the outside wore an officer’s uniform, underneath was still the clothing of an ordinary soldier.

Zhang Fan angrily lashed his desk with his whip.