Chapter 211: The Battle Begins

The winter night’s chill carried the sound of metal clashing, and the cold moonlight shone on the iron armor. Outside the military camp stationed outside Xinzhou City, soldiers had already formed their ranks.

The infantry stood in the center, with cavalry flanking both sides, while archers were hidden behind the front lines of infantry. Among the infantry, a small portion were heavily armored, holding shields in one hand and swords in the other—a specialized unit designed to counter the nomadic Tatars’ skilled archers, capable of both offense and defense against arrows. However, the majority were light infantry and light cavalry, carrying less weight, moving quickly, and easily adaptable. If commanded well, in the dim light of night, they could move like a feather, silently completing a bloody ambush!

On the city walls, the war drums grew louder.

Torches lit in the night and banners fluttering in the wind danced together.

The faces of thirty thousand soldiers were blurred by the flickering light and shadow.

On the command platform, the old bloodstains had been washed away, leaving only dried, mottled traces in the iron and wood seams. Yet, Yan Lin’s face, with its clear and resolute features, stood out brightly under the elevated position.

Before the red sun rose, he was the sun in the darkness.

The blazing firelight burned deep in his pupils, and the ambitions and thirst for revenge that had been suppressed for the past two years surged up with his boiling heart, transforming into an overwhelming aura. He drew his sword and raised the three-foot blade high!

In an instant, the surroundings erupted with a deafening roar!

“March through Yanmen, defend our land!”

“Destroy the Tatars, save the princess!”

“Cast aside life and death, do not betray!”

…

Originally, Xinzhou had a garrison of one hundred thousand soldiers. However, under the rule of the Xiao family, military affairs were chaotic, and training was neglected. Less than half of the troops could be quickly mobilized for battle. Attacking the Tatars in winter was not a conventional strategy for victory; it required surprise, speed, and risk. Although the Tatars were a nation, compared to the vast territory of Daqian, they only occupied the equivalent of three provinces. Thirty thousand soldiers were enough to catch them off guard and leave them in disarray.

“The young lord truly has the air of a hero emerging in his youth…”

On the high city walls, Lü Xian stood beside a burning torch, feeling the biting cold wind on his face as he watched the distant army march out. He couldn’t help but sigh deeply, though he soon fell silent.

“The rise and fall of nations bring suffering to the people. How many will die in this battle?”

Xie Wei was not far away.

On the flat area of the city walls stood an archery target.

His dark green Taoist robe billowed in the cold wind, but his icy, chilled fingers gripped a longbow. He nocked a feathered arrow, aiming at the center of the target, and simply said, “So what?”

Lu Xian was speechless.

Though he had never been a saint who pitied all living beings, witnessing the suffering of the people and the calamities of the world inevitably stirred some sympathy in him. Yet Xie Wei, who appeared gentle and forbearing, with a kind heart, revealed a startling coldness when faced with the bloodshed and devastation of war.

Human lives were like grass, and the masses were mere chess pieces.

Yet, it was undeniable that within this shocking coldness, there was also a clarity and insight that seemed almost transcendent.

“Heaven has no inherent morality; it is humans who impose it. Yet the world is inherently ordinary, and the people lack wisdom. Without destruction, how can there be creation? Without death, how can there be life? In this world, aside from the concept of ‘death,’ there is no inherent truth. If one does not understand death, how can they understand life?”

With a sharp “whoosh,” the feathered arrow left the bowstring and slammed into the target with such force that the wooden target split and toppled backward with a loud crash in the cold, silent night.

Xie Wei’s expressionless face remained as calm as a deep river.

“I make them realize they are alive. They should thank me.”

Lu Xian held his breath, only exhaling slowly after a long while. He was more certain than ever: Xie Wei’s mood was truly terrible.

*

The further north they went, the later the dawn arrived.

By the time of the early morning watch, the Tatar border camp was still shrouded in a dark, ink-blue haze, utterly silent. The patrolling soldiers were in the midst of changing shifts, either exhausted from staying up all night or just waking up, most of them drowsy and at their least alert.

It was at this moment that a sharp cry shattered the silence!

“Enemy attack! Enemy attack! The Daqian army is here, enemy attack—!”

Some people didn’t even hear the alarm clearly at first, completely convinced they were still in a dream. It wasn’t until they had taken several steps that the reality of the situation dawned on them, leaving them wide-eyed and utterly horrified.

The entire camp erupted into chaos.

Soldiers who had been deep in sleep scrambled to don their armor, while messengers leaped onto their horses and galloped toward the royal court!

Who could have anticipated such an unconventional surprise attack?

It wasn’t during the warm, blooming days of spring, nor under the bright sunlight of day. Instead, it came in the dead of winter, on a bitterly cold night—precisely when they thought it was absolutely impossible!

Strike when unprepared, use preparedness to exploit their lack of readiness.

As the saying goes, “In war, deception is the way.”

The Tatar king, Yanda, was in the prime of his life. The previous night, he had indulged in a vigorous bout with several concubines and had only just rested when the sudden alarm from outside shattered his peace. His head throbbed with pain as he summoned the messenger into his tent for details. Upon hearing the news, he flew into a rage, kicking over the low table set on the sheepskin rug.

“How could Daqian launch an attack out of nowhere? Has there been a leak of information?”

His face was framed by a thick beard, and though his features were bold and imposing, there was a sinister edge to them.

“That woman—where is that woman?!”

The maidservants attending to him trembled and knelt on the ground, well aware of who “that woman” referred to after two years of serving him. It was the princess who had come to the Tatars for a political marriage. One of them stammered, “As per your orders, she has been confined to her tent and hasn’t been allowed out these past few days.”

Yanda’s chest heaved with anger as he grabbed his sword and stormed out of the royal tent.

Along the way, he barked orders to deal with the surprise attack, but his steps didn’t falter as he made his way to a large tent at the eastern edge of the royal court, about three zhang in diameter.

By now, the sky had begun to lighten.

The tent was illuminated by lamplight.

A slender, graceful figure cast a shadow on the white tent walls. Shen Zhiyi had already heard the commotion outside and had risen from her bed.

When Yanda roughly pulled open the tent flap and entered, she stood with her back to him, her hair tied up high, revealing a long, pale neck. At some point, she had changed out of the colorful Tatar garments and donned her old clothes from years past. She had opened a long-sealed chest.

Inside lay the ceremonial robes of an imperial princess.

The palace attire, woven from the finest silk, shimmered with a radiant glow even in the dim light. The gold and silver embroidery of cranes and phoenixes looked as pristine as ever, cold yet exquisitely beautiful.

Yanda immediately drew his sword and pressed it against her neck, his voice fierce and gritted through clenched teeth. “Was it you?!”

Shen Zhiyi turned her face slightly to look at him.

The faint scar beneath her eye resembled an old trace of rouge, a mark of her origins and the trials she had endured. It also made her indifferent to the blade at her throat. She merely curved her lips into a faint smile, her tone calm yet chilling. “Kill me, and all of you will die.”

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