Chapter 38 “Disgusted with me?”

Chapter 38 "Do you look down on me?"

Huo Bineng was surprised that even this failed to unsettle him. As Tuo Baxiao charged at him like a ferocious tiger, in a panic, he quickly commanded his men to halt him.

He had just seen the sheer might of Tuo Baxiao. He had always considered himself the strongest warrior in the tribe, but now he dared not face him alone.

But Tuo Baxiao wasn’t about to let him escape. His gaze, sharp as a hunting wolf’s, locked onto Huo Bineng.

At the valley’s entrance, Xie Shao, at the head of a thousand Lüben Guards, stood ready for battle. As the Jie advanced, he led the charge.

Maybe Xie Shao’s earlier speech had an impact, or perhaps his bold charge emboldened his troops. The thousand Lüben Guards, inexperienced in battle, now roared with courage as they plunged into the fight, engaging the enemy in close combat.

Jiang Congyan turned to Zhang Zheng and said, "You should join them."

"My foremost duty is to ensure the lady’s safety," Zhang Zheng hesitated.

The Jie are blocked on both sides now. I am safe here," Jiang Congyan shook her head. "Though Xie Shao is holding his own for now, he won’t last if the battle drags on. Go and rally their spirits."

Even she, an outsider, could see the issue—how could Zhang Zheng miss it? Though they appeared outflanked, the Jie were bound to lose. Even if Xie Shao couldn't win, it wouldn’t matter. The Prince of Mobei had already set his plans in motion. The lady sent him to rally their spirits, likely out of concern for her fellow Han.

The lady had always cared deeply for the Liang dynasty and its people, but how had the Emperor of Liang treated the King of Chu? And how had he treated the lady?

As a Liangzhou general, Zhang Zheng naturally resented the emperor ensconced in Chang'an.

For years, the Emperor of Liang had distrusted Liangzhou, dispatching officials to undermine the Lord. With the Silk Road severed, Liangzhou struggled, and war further drained the nation’s resources. Yet the court concocted excuses to slash Liangzhou’s military supplies. Hmph, expecting soldiers to fight barbarians and defend Liang without food or armor—what kind of logic is that? Without the Lord’s military prowess and the soldiers’ bravery on the front lines, how could the royals in Chang'an rest easy?

Whenever he thought of this, Zhang Zheng seethed with anger for the Lord and the lady.

Jiang Congyan offered no explanation about Xie Shao, simply instructing him to go. After a moment’s hesitation, Zhang Zheng left ten Imperial Guards with her and led the rest to reinforce Xie Shao.

They were not like the Lüben Guards, who grew up in the prosperous capital. They were seasoned warriors who had fought the barbarians on the frontier for years, battle-hardened, and the elite of the elite selected by the Lord to be sent to the lady's side.

Only forty cavalrymen, the Jie initially didn't take them seriously. But as Zhang Zheng and his men fought more fiercely, the Jie found that they were far stronger than expected, not at all like the usual Han people's combat capability.

In addition, the remaining hundred or so Xianbei cavalry also joined the battle at the entrance. They were equally ferocious, their strong builds like moving iron towers, crushing the enemy under their horses' hooves.

The Lüben Guards, who were about to fall into a disadvantage, saw their fierce attack and their morale was boosted again. Xie Shao seized the opportunity to shout a few words to inspire them, and the Lüben Guards erupted with a combat strength they hadn't expected themselves.

They were the elite of Liang, with excellent armor and regular training, but they had always stayed in Chang'an and never been on the battlefield. Now, their bloodlust was awakened, and with the momentum of their charge, they, along with Zhang Zheng and the Xianbei cavalry, actually pushed the Jie cavalry back.

The enemy hadn't expected these seemingly ornamental Han cavalry to have such strong combat power, and for a moment, they were at a loss.

On the other side, Tuo Baxiao had completely taken control of the battlefield.

After breaking the Jie formation, he didn't continue the slaughter but instead gathered his forces and charged towards the position of the eldest prince.

From Jiang Congyan's perspective, amidst the chaotic cavalry, one black figure stood out particularly sharply, like a dagger thrust straight into the enemy's vital point.

Seeing Tuo Baxiao's unrelenting momentum, the eldest prince began to feel fear.

"Quick, stop him, stop him!" he shouted, while preparing to retreat on his horse.

It was all because of that damned Tok and the others who said Tuo Baxiao only brought a few hundred men, making it a perfect opportunity to encircle and kill him. Whoever took Tuo Baxiao's life would become the new ruler of this land. Now it seemed they had deliberately set him up. Even if Tuo Baxiao only had a few hundred men, no one could kill him.

Not only couldn't they kill him, but he was probably going to lose.

The eldest prince cursed his brothers in his heart, vowing to settle accounts with them when he returned. But just as this thought crossed his mind, he saw the flagpole, as thick as a bowl, split by several strong arrows.

The wind blew, and with a "crack," the flagpole snapped in half.

Tuo Baxiao coldly sheathed his Black Dragon Iron Ridge Bow and charged forward once more.

With the flag fallen, the army's morale instantly crumbled.

The prince barked at the flag bearer to hoist the flag again, but it was already too late—Tuo Baxiao had broken through the obstacles and charged forward, his silver spear tip soaked in blood, radiating a terrifying crimson glow.

In a panic, the prince could only swing his spiked chain mace and hurl it with all his might. The mace, made of refined iron and weighing a hefty 120 pounds, combined with the speed of the throw, would crush the enemy on impact.

Seeing the massive mace flying toward his face, Tuo Baxiao gripped the horse's sides with his legs, leaning back, his torso nearly parallel to the horse's back, narrowly dodging the strike. With a swift twist of his silver spear, he caught the chain with a sharp "ding." Then, he sat up abruptly, his face impassive as he yanked his arm with brutal force. The strength was so immense that the prince lost his grip, and his weapon was sent flying.

At this moment, the prince was now in complete panic.

He started to plead for mercy, but before he could finish, his throat was slit by the razor-sharp blade.

The head soared, and Tuo Baxiao speared the gory neck with a flick of his weapon, raising the prince’s head high.

Seeing this, General Modolou bellowed, "The prince is dead!"

His voice boomed like a bell, and the words quickly spread. The rest of the Xianbei cavalry echoed the cry, "The prince is dead!" The Jie soldiers, already scattered, broke ranks and fled in chaos. In moments, they were in full retreat. The narrow valley exit descended into chaos, with some trampled in the desperate rush to flee.

General Modolou gave chase with his men, and the Jie soldiers, panicked, shed their armor and weapons.

History has a way of repeating itself.

Soon, the valley exit was deserted, littered with bloodied corpses.

On the other side, the Jie soldiers, seeing their prince beheaded, broke and fled in every direction.

The Xianbei warriors itched to pursue and slaughter more, but Tuo Baxiao raised his arm to stop them.

They were in the thick of battle, and the Jie soldiers were completely routed, making it the perfect time to pursue. They couldn’t fathom why their king halted them.

"My king?"

Tuo Baxiao offered no explanation, simply saying, "Withdraw!"

No one dared to disobey the order, and they reluctantly returned.

Tuo Baxiao looked up at the pale, vast sky, where a hawk circled high above, almost a mere black dot.

He narrowed his eyes.

A seemingly nerve-wracking battle had temporarily come to an end, with Tuo Baxiao achieving a great victory. The caravan remained intact, and the Xianbei cavalry’s morale was high.

However, the Jie had thousands of cavalry, and it was only through Tuo Baxiao’s swift charge and the killing of the prince that their morale had collapsed so quickly. If the battle had dragged on, even if they had won, the cost would have been devastating.

Though the casualties were relatively light, hundreds were injured, and nearly a hundred had died on the spot, with the Lüben Guard suffering the most losses.

Xie Shao had always known there was a gap between them, but he hadn’t expected it to be this vast.

The Lüben Guard, having achieved a great victory in their first battle against the Hu enemies, were ecstatic, but Xie Shao couldn’t share their joy.

He looked at Tuo Baxiao in the distance, feeling a deep sense of dread.

The Prince of Mobei was so fierce, and his Xianbei cavalry were like a pack of wolves. If one day he was no longer content with the northern grasslands and turned his forces south, what would become of Liang?

Gradually, his gaze shifted to the slender figure beside Tuo Baxiao. Amidst the blood-soaked ground, she still stood as pure and noble as a goddess under the moon.

Could she be the shackle that restrains Tuo Baxiao and stops him from trampling the Liang State?

The thought barely surfaced before he dismissed it, feeling ashamed for even considering it.

"Sending a concubine to secure the nation, yet not knowing where to deploy the general." Her seemingly mocking smile under the setting sun flashed before his eyes again.

No, he couldn’t burden a woman with the fate of a nation. The Han dynasty’s territory should be defended by its own people.

Jiang Congyan stepped down from the carriage and walked directly toward Tuo Baxiao.

As she neared, the man quickly dismounted.

His hands, armor, and face were drenched in blood, as if he’d waded through a river of it. Blood dripped down his chest armor, forming eerie streaks in the sunlight, eventually clotting into dark, sticky droplets at his abdomen that splattered onto the weeds, staining the green stems red. The blood on his face had started to dry into a reddish-brown crust, clinging to his skin, making him look like a demon straight out of hell.

No wonder legends said he could silence crying children at night. Jiang Congyan hesitated for a moment after taking in his appearance, then continued forward.

The overwhelming stench of blood hit her, and Jiang Congyan held her breath, keeping her distance, standing a few steps away. "Are you hurt, King?"

Tuo Baxiao still radiated the murderous aura of the battlefield. Hearing her voice, the killing intent in his green eyes faded, and his cold demeanor softened.

He was visibly pleased by her concern, a proud smile curving his sharp jaw as he lifted his chin and declared, "No one can take my life!"

"..."

Of course, she could tell his life wasn’t in danger, but she was asking if he was hurt.

She studied him carefully. His upper body was fully armored, and his forearms were shielded, making it hard to tell if he was hurt. Only near the joint on his arm was there a tear in his clothing, and the bloodstain there was darker.

Bracing herself against the stench of blood, she stepped closer and pointed at his arm, "Your arm’s hurt."

Tuo Baxiao glanced at the spot, raised his arm, and shrugged. "This doesn’t count as an injury," he said dismissively.

Jiang Congyan: "..."

Does anything that doesn’t threaten your life not count as a wound to you?

She didn’t argue with him about this, only said, "Even a small wound needs treatment, or it could get infected and cause serious problems."

Besides, the battlefield was so filthy; who knew what the enemy’s weapons had been tainted with? She now wondered if Tuo Baxiao’s sudden death in the future might be from an untreatable infection.

She spoke seriously, but Tuo Baxiao laughed.

His features were sharp, with prominent brow bones, and his deep green eyes radiated cold dominance, making him intimidating. But now, as he smiled, the corners of his lips lifted, and his narrow phoenix eyes softened, making his cold features seem almost warm, transforming him from the untouchable Xianbei King to a bold young general.

Of course, if there were less blood on his face, this effect would be even more pronounced.

He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing her face, "Will you tend to my wound?"

The strong smell of blood overwhelmed her, and Jiang Congyan covered her nose, quickly stepping back a few paces, looking at him with displeasure, "You wish. Call the medicine boy to handle it."

Tuo Baxiao noticed her obvious resistance and deliberately moved closer to her, "Do you dislike me?"

As he spoke, he reached out to touch her face, startling Jiang Congyan into closing her eyes, fearing that he would embrace her, covered in blood.

She felt a warmth approaching her, but after a while, there was no other sensation. She opened her eyes in confusion, only to see the man's large hand suspended in mid-air, not intending to come down, his eyes filled with obvious amusement, watching her as if she were facing a great enemy, her long lashes trembling incessantly.

He was deliberately teasing her.

Jiang Congyan stepped back again, raising her eyes to glare at him angrily.

She had never realized before that he could be so childish and petty, nothing like the mighty and wise Prince of Mobei, but rather a bratty, short-tempered kid.

Tuo Baxiao indeed wanted to touch her. He had just returned from the battlefield, his blood still surging and restless. He was itching to let it out. In the past, he would go horseback riding or practice archery and martial arts, but now, a new urge had seized him, one far stronger than riding or shooting.

Unfortunately, he knew how much she valued cleanliness—she wouldn’t even sit on the bare ground. If he were to embrace her while covered in blood, she’d probably give him the cold shoulder for a month. Tuo Baxiao had to suppress his impulse.

However, not touching her didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her. Watching her face pale in fear was downright entertaining to him.

She had come to check on him, but he still had the mood to joke around. Jiang Congyan decided to ignore him, calling over a young medicine boy, handing him the medicine and bandages, and then leaving Tuo Baxiao to fend for himself.

She turned her attention to other matters.

As soon as the battle ended, she had Zhang Fu start treating the wounded. Zhang Fu had a few medicine boys under him, and they were pretty good at patching up basic battlefield wounds.

There were too many injured, so Zhang Fu instructed the medicine boys to first treat the more severely wounded members of the Liangzhou Imperial Guard, and then attend to the Lüben Guard. In comparison, the Lüben Guard had taken a much heavier hit.

Among the Liangzhou Imperial Guard, Zhang Zheng and others had learned the newly introduced bandaging and stitching techniques in the military. According to the new organization of the Liangzhou army, each squad had a medic. Once they’d patched themselves up, they went to assist the Xianbei cavalry.

After Jiang Congyan’s confrontation with Chigan Balie that day, the Xianbei cavalry stopped underestimating her. They even treated her subordinates with more respect. Seeing Zhang Zheng and his men in action, they saw that these Han soldiers were just as tough as they were, and their opinion changed further.

They respected strength, and any real fighter earned their respect. Thus, they didn’t refuse the goodwill of Zhang Zheng and his men.

Moreover, they were shocked to discover that the Han had some unique tricks and many medicines they had never seen before.

Zhang Zheng approached General Modolou and saw a long, shallow slash across his back. Though not deep, it was bleeding profusely, and without proper treatment, it could easily get infected and turn nasty.

He had Modolou remove his armor and sit shirtless on the ground, preparing to treat the wound.

Zhang Zheng uncorked a bottle, and the scent of alcohol wafted out. Modolou’s eyes lit up, and he sniffed eagerly, leaning closer. “Brother, are you giving me wine? You really understand me. I, Modolou, fear neither pain nor death, but I do fear being without wine, especially the wine your princess brings. The taste…”

He made a grab for the bottle.

Zhang Zheng: “…”

Even now, all he could think about was wine.

With a straight face, Zhang Zheng slapped Modolou’s hand away and firmly pressed him down from behind with one hand on his shoulder. Then, he took out an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and mercilessly pressed it against the wound.

Modolou was stunned for a moment, and then a searing pain shot through his back. The sudden sting almost made him jump, but Zhang Zheng held him down firmly, preventing any movement.

Modolou grimaced in pain, his face contorted.

“Hey, Zhang Zheng, what are you doing? It hurts! Didn’t you say you were here to treat my wound? You’re just making it worse or something…”

Modolou kept cursing.

A hint of a smile flashed across Zhang Zheng’s stern face but disappeared quickly. He said solemnly, “I’m disinfecting your wound.”

The term “disinfection” was first taught to them by the renowned physician Zhang Yuan. Zhang Yuan said that there were many microscopic organisms in the world that were invisible to the human eye. Many so-called epidemics, colds, and rheumatism were caused by these microorganisms, hence they were called viruses. Especially the festering of wounds was caused by these viruses. Therefore, to treat a wound, one must first eliminate these viruses.

At first, no one could understand this theory. However, with the use of alcohol, they found that those who were “disinfected” healed much faster than others. The common fevers and festering were greatly reduced, and people had no choice but to believe it.

Not to mention the various suturing techniques that were later developed, which saved many soldiers who were thought to be certain to die.

At the time, these techniques were still confidential. Zhang Zheng didn’t know that these were actually proposed by the lady. He thought it was all the work of the renowned physician Zhang Yuan. It wasn’t until later, when the Lord sent him to the lady’s side and told him some inside information, ordering Zhang Zheng to protect the lady at all costs, that he realized the lady had such national talent.

As time went on, Zhang Zheng became more and more impressed by the lady’s grace and strategy. Now, in his heart, the lady’s standing was equal to the Lord’s.

After disinfecting the wound, Zhang Zheng took out a “needle and thread” and said to Modolou, “Your wound is a bit long. I’ll stitch it up so it heals faster. It’ll hurt, but General Modolou, with your unmatched bravery, will surely endure it.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he got to work.

General Modolou exclaimed, "!!!"

Ahhh! Curse you, Zhang Zheng!

General Modolou's veins bulged from the pain, his eyes wide and fierce, like a tiger's. He felt the sharp needle pierce his flesh, sending spasms through his body. The fear of the unknown was more agonizing than a blade's slash.

But Zhang Zheng's words had hit his pride hard, making him unwilling to show weakness in front of him. He gritted his teeth and endured.

Zhang Zheng, you’ll regret this!

Zhang Zheng, who had long been on the battlefield, was among the first to learn the skill of stitching wounds. He had performed it countless times on soldiers. Though his technique was rougher compared to specialized military doctors, he worked quickly. In no time, he had stitched up General Modolou's wound, then clapped his hands and moved on to the next patient.

By the time General Modolou came to his senses, Zhang Zheng was already gone.

Next, the Imperial Guards handed out pills one by one. These were herbal pills by Zhang Fu for bleeding, muscle repair, detox, and swelling.

Jiang Congyan offered new medical theories to the Zhang family, but her impact on medicine was limited. With the current tech, creating drugs like penicillin was out of reach. They still had to rely on herbal remedies.

Fortunately, Zhang Yuan’s reputation as a divine doctor was well-earned. Jiang Congyan had selflessly shared her new medical knowledge with him, and in return, he had spent years researching battlefield medicines, both oral and topical. Several of his formulas had proven their worth.

Before leaving Chang'an, Jiang Congyan had the pharmacy stock up on medicinal herbs. Zhang Fu and his apprentices had made many ready-to-use medicines, all in preparation for today.

Powders and pills were handed out to the injured. Minor injuries were self-treated, while Zhang Fu’s team handled the severe ones. The rest went to loot the battlefield.

Everything was smooth until a young apprentice rushed to Jiang Congyan with news. "My lady, Master wishes to treat General Chigan Balie’s wound, but he declines."

The apprentice’s voice was filled with complaint. Hmph, Chigan Balie despised the Han people. Master offered to help, but Chigan Balie snapped, "I don’t need Han healers. I’ll heal myself." What an ungrateful man!

Of course, the apprentice couldn’t understand the Hunnic tongue Chigan Balie used. It was A Mao who translated it for him.

Hearing this, Jiang Congyan stayed calm. She simply said to the apprentice, "Take me there."

She lifted her skirt, dodging gravel and weeds, and followed the apprentice, flanked by two Liangzhou Imperial Guards.

Chigan Balie sat on the ground, encircled by Zhang Fu and two apprentices. A Mao, petite and trembling, stood nearby with curious Xianbei cavalrymen. The scene was a mess of tension and confusion.

Zhang Fu’s expression was grim, his face filled with anger. Chigan Balie, on the other hand, was full of resistance, his eyes fierce as he angrily cursed.

A Mao was the first to notice Jiang Congyan. She quickly ran over, looked up at her, and said, "My lady."

Jiang Congyan gently patted her head.

Hearing the commotion, Zhang Fu and the others turned and bowed to her.

"What’s going on?" Jiang Congyan waved her hand.

Zhang Fu briefly summarized the situation, omitting the part where Chigan Balie had cursed.

In short, Chigan Balie had a broken arrow lodged in his chest, dangerously close to a major artery. The arrowhead had barbs, and pulling it out carelessly could easily sever the artery, leading to fatal blood loss. Zhang Fu, with his exceptional medical skills, was prepared to remove the arrow, but Chigan Balie refused. He wouldn’t accept help from the Han people, saying he’d rather die.

Stubborn patients like this were the most frustrating for Zhang Fu. Without cooperation, he couldn’t proceed, and so they were at a standstill.

Jiang Congyan took two steps forward and stood in front of Chigan Balie.

Chigan Balie glanced at her, then looked away disdainfully. "Are you going to use the king to pressure me again?"

Jiang Congyan placed her hands gently on her waist, her gaze calm and steady. "Do you hate me?"

Chigan Balie was startled, his face filled with astonishment as he looked at her—this Han woman was actually speaking their Xianbei language?

Jiang Congyan continued to speak in somewhat halting Xianbei, regardless of whether he answered her or not: "You hate me because I’m Han? You say the Han are weak, but you just saw that we Han are just as brave as anyone. In the face of the enemy, we also fight fearlessly, risking our lives. Zhang Zheng and his battle-hardened warriors are proof enough, but even the Lüben Guard, who are on the battlefield for the first time, didn’t take a single step back. Now, do you still think the Han are weak?"

The Han have never been weaklings. Once, the powerful Han dynasty drove the Xiongnu out of the northern deserts. They shed their blood to build the backbone of this nation. The Han people have the spirit of never giving up engraved in their bones.

"Or is it that you hate me just because I’m Han? You think I’m different from you in blood and heritage, so no matter what I do, you will still hate me," she said sharply.

Chigan Balie looked at her, speechless.

The words of this Han Princess pierced through his most genuine thoughts, sparking a strange anger in him. He hated this feeling and hardened his resolve, not caring if she would report him to the King. He stared at her and said through gritted teeth, "Yes, I hate the Han, I hate everyone who isn’t Xianbei."

Jiang Congyan, however, smiled instead of taking offense and asked him, "Do you know what the word 'Tuoba' means?"

Chigan Balie was stunned, not understanding why she suddenly asked this question. But seeing her calm demeanor, he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, so he said, "Of course I know, 'Tuoba' means the Earth King."

Jiang Congyan clapped her hands, giving him a bit of affirmation, "Yes, 'Tuoba' means the Earth King, but do you know that these two words originally meant a mixed tribe of Xianbei men and Xiongnu women!"

"So, the pure bloodline you think of has not existed for many years!"

A simple sentence struck him like a heavy blow.

Chigan Balie was shocked, staring at her in shock, her words echoing in his mind like a devil, his fierce eyes becoming dull.

The next second, a shadow moved like lightning from behind his neck. Chigan Balie, caught off guard, swayed and was knocked out cold.

Before fainting, he pointed at Jiang Congyan, wanting to say something hateful, but couldn’t speak.

The Imperial Guard, after knocking him out, respectfully stood back behind Jiang Congyan. Everyone saw that the once defiant Chigan Balie had become helpless as a lamb to the slaughter.

"..."

Jiang Congyan saw Zhang Fu and the apprentices standing still and urged, "Why are you just standing there? Now that he can't struggle, go ahead."

Zhang Fu's mood was complicated.

He thought the lady would persuade Chigan Balie with reason until he willingly complied, but he didn’t expect it to be so simple and rough. However, it was also a method.

His Xianbei wasn’t good enough to understand the conversation between the two, but he felt that the lady truly was remarkable, with just a few words she made the other lose his mind and guard.

The others were also full of admiration, except for the Xianbei cavalry who understood, whose expressions were as if they’d seen a ghost.

Could what this Han Princess said be true?

Jiang Congyan noticed the confusion in their eyes but did not intend to explain further.

What she just said was naturally true.

The Xianbei are part of the Donghu lineage, originating from the Xianbei Mountain. Others called them the Xianbei people, and later they adopted the name themselves.

They came out of the forests of the Greater Khingan Mountains and stayed by the Hulun Lake and the Bell Lake for a period.

During this period, the Xianbei tribe was greatly influenced by the Xiongnu culture, which was also their first direct contact with other ethnic groups after leaving the forest. Xianbei and Xiongnu intermarriage was widespread, and they also calculated their lineage according to the paternal line like the Han.

Until the first century AD, the Xiongnu, who once dominated the northern desert grasslands, declined under the pressure of the Han Empire. The Xianbei took the opportunity to rise, with one part moving west to occupy the northern desert grasslands, and the other part moving south to settle in the Laoha River Basin and the Xilamulun River Basin.

After the Xiongnu were defeated, after two centuries of accumulation, they once again defeated the surrounding enemies and returned to the grasslands. But this grassland, which originally belonged to them, was now mostly occupied by the Xianbei, so they deeply hated the Xianbei and vowed to take back their land from them. This was also the reason why Wudati Hou took the opportunity to attack the royal court when the old Xianbei King died.

And two hundred years later, the Xianbei had already regarded the land under their feet as their own territory. They had no written language and no longer remembered that they had once communicated and integrated with the Xiongnu hundreds of years ago, only seeing the Xiongnu as enemies who robbed their land.

Especially after Wudati Hou led troops to attack the royal court, the conflict between the two groups became a matter of life and death. Now, hearing someone say that their ancestors were Xiongnu, how could they not be shocked?

The terrain here was too prone to ambushes, and after a long delay, the troop hastily packed up and set off again.

The bodies of the fallen soldiers could not be preserved, so they could only take their dog tags and cremated them to bring back their ashes.

Perishing in a foreign land is a tragic event, but in this era, there are many things even more tragic than this.

The troop walked out of the valley and finally found a relatively open area to set up camp before nightfall. There was a clearing in the middle, surrounded by small hills on three sides.

In ancient times without electric lights, especially in the wild, once it got dark, it was truly pitch black. Tonight, the weather was uncooperative, as thick clouds completely blocked the moon, not letting a single ray of light through, enveloping the entire earth in pitch black.

Past midnight, the bonfire outside the camp had burned out, and scattered embers glowed faintly, still unable to illuminate the surroundings.

However, in the distant mountain path, a group of people approached silently.

The horses' hooves were wrapped in thick layers of hemp cloth, and their movements were extremely cautious. A team of over a thousand people moved without a sound. Under the cover of night, they finally approached the camp and hid in a bend in the mountain pass.

The leader reined in his horse and signaled to those behind him. Soon, dozens of torches were lit, and flaming arrows were readied.

Moments later, hundreds of flaming arrows fell from the sky like meteors, setting the tents ablaze instantly. People in the camp shouted, but it was already too late.

At this point, the ambushers no longer needed to hide themselves.

"Charge!"

"Kill!"

Taking advantage of the chaos, they charged forward eagerly.

However, when they actually charged into the camp and opened the tents, they found no one inside.

No... one?

The few panicked cries they had heard earlier were just a dozen soldiers feigning presence. By the time they attacked, they had already withdrawn.

"We've been tricked!" the first to react exclaimed. The rest of the ambushers, unsure whether to advance or retreat, instinctively looked around.

At that moment, on both sides of the camp, the originally pitch-black hills lit up with clusters of flames.

Hundreds of torches were ignited, and the blazing flames illuminated the scene. There were two cavalry units standing on the slopes, fully armored, surrounding them, waiting for them to step into their trap.

"Wudati Hou, long time no see!" Tuo Baxiao, reining in his horse, greeted the man in the camp from a commanding position, his voice cutting like a knife.