One could say the dire consequences of the Qian people prioritizing civil affairs over military ones for nearly a century were now apparent. The Qian army did have commendable officers and some soldiers who fought with fearless, fiery passion. However, the overall military morale remained overwhelmingly bleak.
The low social status of soldiers resulted in their self-abnegation and lack of honor, yielding bitter consequences.
However, Zheng Fan still felt somewhat unsatisfied and bellowed, "If I had seven or eight thousand more horsemen, I wouldn’t need to flee!"
Zheng Fan believed that with their superior equipment and Liang Cheng’s command, his cavalry was on par with an equal number of Lord Jingnan’s troops, even if they couldn’t match the Northern Defense Army.
If he currently had ten thousand of Lord Jingnan’s iron cavalry, he could have undoubtedly breached Mianzhou city earlier. Moreover, he could have treated this escape like a leisurely outing, perhaps even casually exchanging souvenirs with the pursuing Qian cavalry.
Zheng Fan remembered an uncle in his hometown telling stories during family New Year gatherings about trading canned meat with the Vietnamese enemies at the Laoshan Frontline, as he was sick of their own army’s rations.
Back then, Zheng Fan found this puzzling. Could war really proceed in such a manner?
Now, he understood somewhat. As long as you have the confidence, it is indeed possible.
"Well, isn’t this similar to what happened before the Qing entered the Pass?" A Ming remarked.
Many people only know that Wu Sangui led the Later Jin through the Pass. What they don’t realize is that for many years prior, the Later Jin Eight Banners had breached the Pass numerous times. They would pillage and burn their way through, even casually parading their horses to the outskirts of Beijing to ’greet’ Emperor Chongzhen, who would be on the city walls.
When the Later Jin retreated, laden with plundered goods, their pace naturally slowed. Yet, the Ming army only dared to follow behind. They would wait for the Later Jin forces to leave a city before re-entering to ’liberate’ it, essentially escorting the invaders out of the Pass.
The final years of a dynasty often spawn such scenarios, as military readiness becomes lax and capable soldiers and generals dwindle.
In Zheng Fan’s view, Qian perfectly fit this late-dynasty scenario. His own survival after two suicidal ventures, returning laden with spoils each time, was the best proof of Qian’s decline.
What perplexed Zheng Fan was Lord Jingnan’s inaction. Despite having returned much earlier, Lord Jingnan had merely ordered the leaders of the rat armies under him to go out, forage, and cause trouble. Meanwhile, Lord Jingnan’s main camp remained completely inactive.
Was he awaiting an opportunity?
Zheng Fan knew Lord Jingnan was waiting to ensnare Qian’s three main border forces and annihilate them in one swift move. However, there were clearly capable individuals in the Qian court now. Grand Commandant Yang, who was deemed a ’disgrace to the nation’ for his policy of concession, had not been dismissed and continued his defensive strategy. Furthermore, Qian’s main army corps from various regions had already moved north.
If this truly became a protracted war with Yan hunkering down, what would Yan State do?
Fortunately, Zheng Fan, though a Yan officer, lacked the profound patriotic sentiments of a true Yan citizen. His primary concerns were his own sustenance and development; as for the future, let it be.
The cavalry galloped until the eastern sky began to brighten. Most of the Qian cavalry abandoned the pursuit, either because their horses were exhausted or because they were nearing the border.
However, a contingent of over a thousand Qian cavalrymen still pressed on from the rear, in hot pursuit.
But their horses were of poorer quality than Zheng Fan’s, so they couldn’t catch up. Moreover, none of their fellow Qian soldiers ahead launched a suicidal charge to buy them time.
Maintaining cavalry is very expensive. The horsemen of Green Willow Fortress rode desert steeds, top-quality in every aspect.
The horses most people from Zheng Fan’s original era were familiar with, like those in amusement parks or seen on highways, were primarily Dian horses. These were small but had strong hooves, capable of climbing high mountains and traversing perilous paths for dozens of li without showing signs of exhaustion. But a true warhorse, a so-called ’tall, mighty steed,’ was an entirely different experience. Otherwise, Emperor Wu of Han from Zheng Fan’s familiar history wouldn’t have been so ecstatic upon acquiring Ferghana horses.
Finally, the cavalry from Green Willow Fortress broke through the Qian State’s border fortifications. This time, the fort only sent up signal smoke; no one dared to emerge and obstruct this formidable iron cavalry.
Zheng Fan glanced back at the cavalry that had been relentlessly pursuing them from outside Mianzhou since the previous night, and a smile touched his lips.
And I leave with brazen arrogance.
Chase me, if you dare!
The silver-armored general, who had led the chase for half the night, raised his hand. The cavalry slowed their pace; their warhorses were on the verge of collapse.
"Young General, the Yan cavalry is too fast! They still have fresh horses to switch to."
The silver-armored general’s expression was as deep and dark as a still pool.
He let out a scornful sound. "It’s not that the Yan people are fast; it’s that our Great Qian’s border garrisons fear the enemy like tigers."
"Young General, watch your words! We are not at home here."
"Watch what? I, Zhong Tianlang, have never in my life seen such useless official troops!"
The West Army Division had entered the city. The fighting between the Wolf Land Soldiers and the local Qian soldiers was stopped.
The Wolf Land Soldiers did not fear the local Mianzhou Qian soldiers, but they held a bone-deep reverence for Qian State’s West Army Division. Orıginal content can be found at novelFɪre.net
An old general with a white beard, escorted by his personal guards, rode into Mianzhou.
Surveying the scene of utter devastation, the old general laughed, his laughter carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
In the rear kitchen of an empty merchant caravan’s branch residence, a small figure rummaged through earthenware pots and jars, eventually finding the salt pot.
He took out the head, which was wrapped in cloth, grabbed several handfuls of salt, and began to rub it onto the head. Inside the wrapping were also accessories and documents that could prove the head’s identity.
"Here, Prince, let’s rub a bit here, and a bit there. Can’t miss any spots."
Xue Three was meticulous in his work.
After the killing, another army had entered the city and quickly taken control of its defenses.
Xue Three had initially planned to seize the opportunity to leave with the head. However, these Qian soldiers, who had appeared out of nowhere, exuded an extremely grim and murderous aura. Furthermore, their control over the city’s defenses was very tight. This made Xue Three hesitate, as attempting to escape seemed too risky.
After a moment’s deliberation, Xue Three decided against risking an immediate departure. Instead, he focused on ’powdering’ Prince Fu.
Once he finished salting the head, Xue Three found some cured meat in the kitchen, rewrapped Prince Fu’s head, and then leaped into a well in the courtyard.
It was winter, so the water level in the well was low, leaving a surprisingly spacious area at the bottom. After descending, Xue Three took a couple of sips of water, then pulled out the cured meat and took a few bites. He didn’t find it unappetizing, nor did he have any trouble swallowing it.
As an assassin, enduring harsh conditions while waiting for a target, even for a month, was nothing extraordinary. This current situation was merely a light drizzle to him.
Having eaten and drunk, replenishing his body’s needs, Xue Three cradled Prince Fu’s head, patting it gently. He muttered to himself, "Alas, My Lord and the others must be worried sick by now, wondering where I’ve gone."