211 BC
Wang Li stared at the departing Xiongnu cavalry, observing their formation. Though they appeared to flee in panic, he noticed they maintained order within the chaos. He decisively made a hand gesture backward.
Someone behind him immediately struck the bronze gong with a hammer, and the sound of retreat echoed across the battlefield.
The well-trained soldiers immediately ceased their pursuit. Even those reluctant to stop merely aimed their crossbows at the Xiongnu cavalry for a final volley of arrows.
This routine harassment by the Xiongnu occurred every few days along the border. Three years ago, Meng Tian led his troops with unstoppable momentum, dealing a devastating blow to the fierce Xiongnu in a single battle, causing their complete rout. He drove the Xiongnu far north of the great desert, over seven hundred li away, preventing them from venturing south to graze their horses. Meng Tian reclaimed all territories south of the river, establishing forty-four counties. He then began constructing watchtowers and fortresses, utilizing the terrain to build the Great Wall, stretching from Lintao all the way to Liaodong, winding over ten thousand li. Afterward, Meng Tian led his troops across the river, occupied Yangshan, and advanced northward in a winding path, expanding the territory. The Qin army now primarily stationed troops in Shangjun to intimidate the Xiongnu.
During these three years, very few Xiongnu cavalry had ventured south to their deaths, but recently they had begun stirring restlessly again.
Wang Li was now a Deputy General, considered the foremost person under Meng Tian in Shangjun. Having served on the frontier for over six years, he had long shed his youthful inexperience. His formerly blunt manner of speaking had become much more steady and composed. After all, bearing responsibility for others’ lives always forced one to become stronger.
He led this expedition for two purposes: first, to give the new recruits in camp some battlefield experience, and second, to record the surrounding terrain and investigate Xiongnu movements. Most of the cavalry behind him maintained their battle-ready formation after the retreat signal, while only a small portion dismounted to clean the battlefield. They tended to wounded Qin soldiers and horses while clearing enemy corpses. Since the Xiongnu cavalry were savage warriors who fought to the death, they found no survivors to interrogate.
Only after the Xiongnu cavalry had fled beyond sight did Wang Li relax slightly. He turned back with a smile to the person who had been protected among his personal guards throughout the battle: “A’luo, our luck was particularly bad this time. You’ve accompanied me out so many times, and this is the only time we encountered these Xiongnu dogs.”
The young man Wang Li called A’luo wore green robes under military officer armor, holding a crossbow. His hair, which he habitually wore loose and disheveled in the palace, was now properly bound in a topknot, revealing his smooth forehead and refined features, making him appear several years younger than his actual age. He rode a fierce warhorse beneath him, currently agitated by the battlefield’s bloody atmosphere, snorting restlessly.
The young man reached out to pat his horse’s mane, watching Wang Li urge his horse forward through the parting personal guards, and smiled slightly: “It would have been even better if you’d let me kill a few with my own hands.”
“Haha, speaking of which, I need to write a military report about this encounter for General Meng. A’luo, you’re experienced with this task, so you handle it,” Wang Li laughed heartily, skillfully changing the subject.
What a joke! This fellow A’luo had probably never even hurt anyone in his entire life, let alone killed! Moreover, every time he brought A’luo out, Crown Prince Fu Su would grab him and repeat his instructions countless times, insisting he must protect A’luo’s safety.
In truth, even without Fu Su’s words, Wang Li would do his utmost to protect him. He just didn’t understand why the noble Crown Prince Fu Su’s presence at the frontier was already gesture enough, yet A’luo insisted on periodically accompanying him outside the camp to sleep rough and eat sand.
However, he had to admit that A’luo had performed beyond his imagination. In the year and more since arriving at the frontier, he had quickly and seamlessly bonded with the soldiers without any barriers. The Qin state had always valued martial prowess over scholarly pursuits, and warriors typically looked down on scholars. But no one expected that His Highness the Crown Prince’s tutor could be both literary and martial, occasionally joining the soldiers’ training on a whim and holding his own in one-on-one combat. He was just too gentle in his attacks, only dodging, lacking offensive capability. Everyone unanimously agreed this was because he had never been on a real battlefield or seen blood.
But no one looked down on him for this. Instead, they all felt they should protect him well. His slender frame, pale complexion, and gentle temperament made him a special presence in the military camp, like a little lamb mixed in among wolves. Though the lamb possessed self-defense capabilities, no one had the heart to force the lamb to become a wolf.
But after being exposed to wind and sun in the military camp for over a year, why was A’luo’s skin still so good? And he seemed completely unchanged…
Wang Li touched his own rough cheeks and the stubble he hadn’t had time to trim in several days, feeling somewhat exasperated. Just as Qin had always valued martial prowess over scholarly pursuits, popular aesthetics also favored robust strength as beauty. He had originally thought A’luo’s pale skin came from spending every day cooped up in palace halls reading bamboo scrolls, but after more than a year in Shangjun, even Crown Prince Fu Su, who rarely exercised, had become much stronger with wheat-colored skin. Yet this Minister still showed no change.
“General… Wang Li, snap out of it!” The Minister being silently criticized saw his calls were useless and directly tapped Wang Li’s armor with his crossbow.
“Oh my! My little ancestor, be more careful! What if it goes off accidentally?” Wang Li broke out in cold sweat. The crossbow was standard Qin military equipment, divided into heavy and light crossbows. Heavy crossbows were used for city defense, like the repeating crossbow carts that required several people to operate simultaneously. Light crossbows were single-person operated, divided into foot-operated crossbows and handheld crossbows. The troops he led included specialized crossbow units operating foot-operated crossbows, and for self-defense, even archers carried handheld crossbows.
The arrows shot from crossbows produced sharp whistling sounds, their momentum fierce and intimidating like fury, hence the name. Light crossbows had shorter range than regular bows but tremendous power, were lightweight, quick to release, highly accurate, and possessed extreme lethality. In Xianyang, carrying them outside military camps was forbidden.
“Don’t worry, the trigger mechanism near the blade is very sturdy and won’t go off accidentally,” the young Minister smiled, casually raising his crossbow and shooting an arrow at the nearby battlefield that hadn’t been cleared yet.
The trigger was pulled, the bowstring immediately released from the hook, driving the arrow to shoot forth with great force.
The arrow used by the young Minister differed from others. After the arrowhead, the shaft was made of bone with two holes drilled above and below, producing a whistle-like sound when shot. This type of arrowhead was called a “whistling arrow,” capable of both attack and alarm. It was a newly introduced experimental item, typically used by sentries on watch or for mutual warning when operating separately.
Because the Qin army maintained perfect order and discipline, this single whistling arrow was extremely noticeable. Nearby soldiers instinctively looked up, watching the screaming arrow pass through the crowd and strike a corpse lying on the ground. Then, under everyone’s gaze, that Xiongnu corpse cried out in pain.
He was actually playing dead! Several men immediately rushed forward, prevented the man’s suicide attempt, and dragged him aside for interrogation.
The nearby soldiers stared in stunned amazement, followed by Wang Li’s angry shouts. This person had also been wounded by an arrow and fallen from his horse, but harbored a death wish, waiting for an opportunity to strike when someone approached, hoping to kill as many as possible before dying.
After this incident, without needing Wang Li’s reprimands, the battlefield cleanup crew became much more cautious.
“These idiots! Just a few years without war, and they’ve become this complacent!” Wang Li cursed angrily, but when he turned to the young Minister, his expression immediately softened. “A’luo is amazing! You could tell he was playing dead and remembered to leave him alive, not hitting a vital spot.” Despite the differences between whistling arrows and ordinary arrowheads, their terrifying lethality remained the same—they could still kill.
The young Minister’s expression grew subtly stiff, and he somewhat guiltily touched the sight of his crossbow. The previously mentioned trigger was the firing mechanism, while the sight was a mountain-shaped aiming device on the crossbow. His sight differed from others—it had been fine-tuned. So even when aiming at vital points, he always hit other areas instead.
Perhaps those soldiers were right—he was just a little lamb unstained by blood, still harboring naive fantasies even on the battlefield.
Wang Li didn’t notice the young Minister’s embarrassed expression. He had already obtained silk cloth and writing materials from his guards and handed them over.
“Don’t mind that I had you use these sound-making arrows. You’re a key protection target, after all. Speaking of these whistling arrows, we actually learned them from the Xiongnu. Legend has it they were originally created by Prince Modun for mutual warning and communication on the grasslands.”
The young Minister’s eyebrows raised slightly. Prince Modun was Chanyu Touman’s eldest legitimate son, twenty-two years old this year. If he inherited the chanyu position, he would be their Qin army’s formidable enemy for decades to come. However, this possibility wasn’t very high—the Xiongnu chanyu leaders were elected by public consensus. After Chanyu Touman, who could inherit the chanyu position remained unknown.
“But it’s almost May. The Xiongnu hold their grand sacrificial assembly at the royal court in Dragon City every May. Why are these people still running around here?” The Xiongnu held three sacrificial assemblies annually: in the first, fifth, and ninth months. The May sacrificial assembly was the grandest, as the grasslands were in their prime with abundant water and grass. Any tribe with means would gather at the royal court’s Dragon City to worship heaven, earth, ancestors, and spirits. Though called heaven worship, they also discussed national affairs and strengthened tribal bonds—equivalent to the Central Plains people’s New Year celebration.
Wang Li narrowed his tiger-like eyes and began discussing this hasty encounter with the Xiongnu: “It’s truly strange. Moreover, judging by numbers, this Xiongnu cavalry unit was too small. Their direction was wrong, they carried no portable shelters, insufficient provisions, and their resistance wasn’t fierce—they fled after a feint. It didn’t seem like a border raid.”
The young Minister listened to Wang Li’s account while transcribing his words into formal written language. This was his most frequent task beside Fu Su, and he quickly finished writing a concise summary.