By dusk, Su Yan and his group arrived at a small town along the rugged dirt road.
“This place is called Hengliangzi. Let’s enter the town to replenish our water supply and rest for the night. We’ll continue at dawn…” Gao Shuo, riding beside the carriage, explained to Su Yan, who had pulled back the curtains. But Gao Shuo’s voice trailed off as he scanned the surroundings. His expression darkened. “Why is it so quiet? At this hour, people should be returning home, and there should be cooking fires.”
Suddenly, an Embroidered Uniform Guard shouted, “Fire! There’s a burning man!”
At the town’s entrance, a figure engulfed in flames staggered toward them, collapsing before it reached them. Its outstretched arm seemed to plead desperately even in death.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard rushed to inspect the body, extinguishing the lingering flames. They discovered a deep, charred slash running diagonally from the shoulder to the lower back—a fatal blow delivered before the body was set ablaze. That the person managed to run so far despite such injuries was nothing short of a miracle.
Chu Yuan traced the angle of the wound with his hand and blanched. “A curved blade… Tatar cavalry!”
“Quickly! Mount up and leave this place!” he barked to the Embroidered Uniform Guard near the carriage.
Before his words fully landed, a black-feathered arrow whistled through the air, aiming for the back of his head. Chu Yuan dodged in a roll as three more arrows embedded themselves with deadly precision where he had just stood.
The sound of galloping hooves and guttural Tatar shouts rose on the wind. At the far end of the dirt road, a group of mounted warriors emerged. They wore crude leather armor and hats, armed with composite bows and curved blades, firing arrows as they charged.
Indeed, they were Tatar cavalry! Somehow, they had outflanked them and blocked the retreat. Fortunately, there were only twenty or thirty of them. Chu Yuan roared, “Front team, follow me and engage! Rear team, escort the Lord through the town and retreat!”
Chu Yuan had divided the nineteen guards into two groups earlier. The front team, including himself, consisted of fifteen men responsible for fighting the enemy. The rear team, led by Gao Shuo with four guards, was tasked with escorting and protecting Su Yan. Including Jinghong Zhui and two young servants, Su Yan had seven people around him to prevent him from being isolated.
At Chu Yuan’s command, the Embroidered Uniform Guard immediately dismounted, retrieved their arquebuses, and sought cover for shooting.
The Tatars, as a nomadic people, did not have the hierarchical empire system like Great Ming. Instead, they were composed of many tribes. A cavalry unit was often the male warriors of a single tribe.
These nomads, born and raised on horseback, excelled at riding and archery, capable of staying on horseback for three days and nights without dismounting. Their mobility was unparalleled.
Tatar light cavalry avoided close combat with Ming troops. Instead, they relied on guerrilla tactics with their bows. At a range of fifty or sixty paces, they would begin shooting. If the enemy got closer, they would ride away, keeping their distance while continuing to shoot—a highly frustrating tactic. Chu Yuan knew it would be difficult to eliminate these cavalrymen without engaging them in close combat. Thus, the only option was to counter with ranged weapons—bows or firearms.
The dozen modified arquebuses they carried were now their best hope.
Meanwhile, Su Yan was jostled in the galloping carriage like a leaf in the wind.
Clinging to the frightened young servants, he gripped the window frame tightly. Listening to the sporadic gunfire behind them, he somehow had the leisure to think: The arquebuses have short range, slow reload speed, and are prone to misfires. They need serious improvement. Wasn’t there a firearms genius named Zhao Shizhen during this era? I hope I didn’t butterfly him out of existence. Once back in the capital, I must track him down and recruit him for the Heavenly Works Academy.
The carriage came to an abrupt stop. Su Xiaojing screamed as Su Yan’s forehead hit the window frame, leaving him seeing stars.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard driving the carriage shouted, “The road ahead is too narrow for the carriage to pass!”
“The carriage is too slow; we’d better abandon it and switch to horses,” Gao Shuo suggested. “But the carriage holds all of the Lord’s belongings…”
“Material possessions are dispensable. Just take the imperial edict, official seal, and documents,” Su Yan said, holding his aching forehead and inhaling sharply.
Jinghong Zhui entered the carriage, shouldered the bundle containing the seals, and helped Su Yan dismount.
As Su Yan’s vision cleared, he noticed the area had been ravaged. The ground was littered with the corpses of townsfolk, some decapitated or hacked apart, with few killed by arrows. It was clear they had been massacred.
Nearby, an elderly woman lay dead by a well, her body bloodied, shielding a child who had also perished.
The two young servants, Su Xiaobei and Su Xiaojing, only thirteen years old, burst into tears at the horrific scene.
Su Yan’s eyes reddened. Gripping Jinghong Zhui’s arm tightly, he choked out, “This is… too cruel…”
Even Jinghong Zhui, a seasoned killer, was shaken by the sight. He clenched his teeth and spat, “The Tatars deserve death!”
“Lord Su, we must go!” Gao Shuo urged.
“Where is the nearest garrison?” Su Yan asked.
“Dingbian, northwest of here!”
As Su Yan mounted his horse, Gao Shuo suddenly froze, placing his ear to the ground. Moments later, he exclaimed, “More cavalry are coming! I can’t discern the direction!”
If the direction couldn’t be determined, it meant they were surrounded.
Another Tatar group, who had only recently left the looted town, had heard the gunfire and turned back to encircle it. This group was a hundred strong, galloping in like a storm, unleashing dozens of arrows from all directions.
Jinghong Zhui drew his sword, deflecting the incoming arrows. Suddenly, several cold arrows converged on Su Yan, who was still on horseback. Jinghong Zhui yanked him down by the waist, rolling with him to the ground.
Su Yan’s hat fell off, and his hairpin came loose, his black hair spilling down his back and catching the dust.
The Tatar cavalry spotted the disheveled figure and mistook him for a woman. Their leader yelled in their language, “A fair-skinned beauty! Don’t kill her—capture her for Lord Wu Ha Lang!”
Jinghong Zhui shoved Su Yan into the carriage, then deftly hurled a throwing knife. The blade pierced the Tatar leader’s eye, killing him instantly.
The leader tumbled from his horse, dead before hitting the ground. Enraged, the cavalry howled wildly, brandishing their scimitars as they charged.
Jinghong Zhui’s sword danced in a flurry of cold light. Employing agile and unpredictable movements, he guarded the carriage, cutting down every Tatar rider who got close.
Inside the carriage, Su Yan collided face-to-face with the still-bound Wang Chen.
“Mmhhmm!” Wang Chen grunted.
Su Yan removed the gag from his mouth. Wang Chen gasped for air and asked, “Tatar cavalry? How many?”
“Over a hundred.”
“We’re doomed! D*mn it, I can’t believe I’m going to die like a lamb to the slaughter!”
Su Yan pulled a dagger from his sleeve and advanced toward Wang Chen.
“You’re going to kill me…? Well, fine! Better to die by your hand than theirs!” Wang Chen closed his eyes, resigned. To his surprise, the ropes binding him suddenly snapped, and he was free.
“Even if you’re to die, it should be under the law, not at the hands of beasts. Now go and save yourself!”
Wang Chen hesitated, then blurted, “What about you?”
“With the Embroidered Uniform Guards and Ah Zhui protecting you, find a way to break through. If you can’t, then we’ll live and die together.” Su Yan’s face remained calm and composed, but deep inside, he was just as tense and afraid. He didn’t even dare to imagine the fate that awaited him if he fell into the hands of the Tatars.
Wang Chen wrestled with his thoughts before gritting his teeth and saying, “If even twenty highly skilled Embroidered Uniform Guard can’t break through, how am I supposed to escape alone? I’ll stay with you! Do we have any blades or bows?”
Outside the carriage, a Tatar warrior fell to the ground, blood gushing from his mouth. Through the small gap in the curtain, his lifeless eyes locked onto theirs, still wide open in death, his hand tightly gripping a curved blade.
Su Yan said, “Here.”
“Hide yourself and be careful!” Wang Chen reached out for the blade and leapt out of the carriage.
At the town’s entrance, Chu Yuan and his men had repelled a small group of Tartars and rushed back into the town to provide reinforcements.
Although these Embroidered Uniform Guard were well-trained, they were greatly outnumbered by the ferocious and determined Tartar cavalry. In the fierce melee, casualties mounted on both sides.
Chu Yuan watched as his men were gradually reduced in number, while the enemy still swarmed in dozens. Realizing they were heading toward a fatal dead end, his anxiety deepened. Loyal to Emperor Jinglong, he had sworn to protect Su Yan at all costs. Even if it meant being riddled with arrows, he could not allow Su Yan to come to harm. He shouted, “Jinghong Zhui! Take the lord and leave! We’ll hold them off!”
“With what? Your lives?” Jinghong Zhui countered, springing onto the wheel of the carriage, piercing two enemies with one sword thrust, and spinning back onto the roof. He exhaled heavily, his energy waning.
Fighting alone against overwhelming odds, he not only had to fend off enemies but also shield the carriage from arrows. Exhausted, he was somewhat relieved when Wang Chen emerged from the carriage with a bow and a quiver taken from a fallen Tartar. Wang Chen began shooting stealthily, killing several enemies and easing Jinghong Zhui’s burden.
“Stop wasting words! You’ve always despised the Embroidered Uniform Guard—whether we live or die, what does it matter to you? Get the lord out of here!” Chu Yuan roared, severing the arm of a Tartar rider charging at him, though he himself took a gash to his back.
Jinghong Zhui gritted his teeth, skewered a Tartar with his sword, pulled the body off his horse to use as a shield against incoming arrows, and barked, “Wang Chen, protect the lord! Head northwest! I’ll follow shortly!”
He stayed behind to fend off the arrows aimed at Su Yan’s back.
Without hesitation, Wang Chen pulled Su Yan out of the carriage and helped him onto a horse, then mounted another himself. With one hand gripping Su Yan’s reins and the other slashing a path through the enemies, he charged forward.
“What about Xiaobei and Xiaojing?” Su Yan cried.
“Focus on yourself for now!” Wang Chen snapped, lashing the horse’s flank.
Su Yan, unskilled in horseback riding, clung tightly to the horse’s neck, praying he wouldn’t be thrown off.
“She’s escaping! Capture that woman! Kill the rest of the men!” yelled the new leader of the Tartars in his native tongue.
A Tartar rider galloped over and threw a lasso, yanking Su Yan off his horse and onto the rider’s chest. The rider, hooting and hollering in his guttural language, slammed Su Yan face-down onto the horse’s back. Su Yan felt as if his ribs were about to snap from the pressure, pain making his vision blur.
He desperately tried to stay conscious, holding his breath and pulling a dagger from his sleeve. Clutching the saddle, he twisted upward and slashed at the rider’s throat.
The Tartar, however, was quick to react. He leaned back, causing the blade to miss its mark, cutting only the leather strap of his armor, which revealed his muscular chest adorned with a wolf tattoo. The green-eyed black wolf seemed ready to leap off his skin, baring its teeth menacingly.
The pungent stench of sweat mixed with the rank smell of livestock overwhelmed Su Yan, making his eyes water. Gritting his teeth against the nausea, he raised his dagger for another strike, but the rider seized his wrist and twisted it, forcing him to drop the weapon.
In a desperate struggle, Su Yan shoved against the Tartar’s chest, trying to unseat him from the horse. But the rider seemed fused to the saddle, immovable.
As the wolf tattoo smudged under Su Yan’s grasp, he couldn’t help but notice, through his panic, how cheap the ink seemed. Even their tattoos are low-quality? These Tartars really are impoverished.
The Tartar growled, his face contorted with rage. Though Su Yan couldn’t understand his words, the murderous intent in his eyes was unmistakable. A chill ran down Su Yan’s spine as he anticipated his neck being snapped.
—Suddenly, an arrow shot through the air like a meteor, embedding itself in the Tartar’s throat. The rider fell from the horse, dragging Su Yan with him.
Hanging upside-down from the horse, Su Yan heard Jinghong Zhui’s distant shout: “My lord, grab the reins! Hook your feet to the horse’s sides and stabilize yourself!”
Night blanketed the desolate plains as the wind howled past. Amid the chaos, Su Yan clung to the reins and did as Jinghong Zhui instructed, his body trembling from exhaustion. He counted silently, Five, four, three, two, one… zero point nine, zero point eight… Hoping to extend the time, though knowing he was at his limit.
His tongue had bitten through at some point, filling his mouth with the taste of blood. Choking on the metallic tang, he coughed violently.
The riderless horse galloped wildly, leaping across a gorge five to six zhang wide. As it landed, Su Yan was flung from the horse’s back. His blue robes billowed in the wind, his long hair cascading like a black waterfall—a bird with broken wings in the dark.
Behind him, Jinghong Zhui’s eyes burned red with desperation. He leaped from his horse, pushing his qinggong to its limit, and caught Su Yan in midair just before they both tumbled down a steep slope.
In the midst of their tumbling descent, Su Yan felt himself tightly cradled in a burning embrace. Though they struck rocks and trees along the way, the other body shielded him from any lethal injuries.
Ah Zhui… He wanted to call out but lost consciousness the moment they plunged into the river.
—
“Urgh… cough, cough…” Su Yan sputtered, coughing up water as he came to. He rolled onto his side, gasping for breath.
The world was pitch black except for the rushing sound of the river around them. The air was thick and suffocating. Su Yan, chest heaving, called out hoarsely, “Ah Zhui! Ah Zhui!”
No response.
Panicking, he crawled over the gravel, groping around until his hand brushed against a drenched arm. He followed it up to a face.
It was Jinghong Zhui! Su Yan exhaled in relief, feeling dizzy from the release of tension.
Jinghong Zhui lay unmoving, apparently unconscious. Fearing he might have drowned, Su Yan quickly performed chest compressions and artificial respiration. Despite his frantic efforts, Jinghong Zhui showed no signs of waking.
He felt the skin under his touch growing colder, and the air was thick with the smell of blood. Suspecting a ruptured artery causing hypovolemic shock, he was helpless without light. The fire-starting tool in his possession had been soaked in the river. Desperately, he removed the other man’s clothes and began a methodical examination, inch by inch, starting from the head. At last, he found the wound on the right side of the lower back.
The injury was three to four centimeters long. Its depth was unclear, but the length suggested it wasn’t a knife or arrow wound. Blood was still seeping from it. Su Yan guessed it was caused by a sharp rock or branch during their tumble down the slope. He tore strips from the hem of his clothes and wrapped them tightly around Jinghong Zhui’s waist to staunch the bleeding.
Thunder rumbled across the horizon, and faint lightning flickered in the distance. It looked like heavy rain was imminent.
Summer storms could easily trigger flash floods, with water levels rising several meters overnight. The steep slopes on either side of the narrow river made this stretch particularly dangerous.
Su Yan realized they couldn’t stay on the riverbank any longer. He needed to move to safer ground before the rain began. But in the pitch-black night, where could they go?
After hastily re-dressing Jinghong Zhui, Su Yan draped the other man’s arm over his shoulders and began half-carrying, half-dragging him uphill. In the dark, he stumbled and fell several times, eventually jolting Jinghong Zhui back to consciousness.
Jinghong Zhui gasped sharply and called out hoarsely, “My lord.”
Su Yan, guilt-ridden, asked, “Did I hurt your wound?”
Jinghong Zhui felt as though his kidneys had been impaled by the rocks below. Clutching his injury, he replied, “It’s nothing. I can still see a little at night. Hold onto me.”
Su Yan quickly supported him. “You’ve lost too much blood. We need to find a place for you to rest. The riverbank is too dangerous with potential flash floods. Let’s climb higher and find somewhere safer.”
Jinghong Zhui nodded, saying softly, “Let’s go.”
As they pressed on, the night sky was torn apart by thunder and lightning, and rain poured down in torrents, drenching the two men instantly.
The slippery slopes were treacherous, often revealing dead ends only after they had climbed some distance, forcing them to backtrack. Jinghong Zhui, gravely injured and depleted of inner strength, struggled to keep going. After half an hour of effort, they were still trapped in the ravine.
Though the spot where they had originally fallen wasn’t this high, the river had swept them far downstream into this remote and treacherous gorge.
Exhausted, Su Yan leaned against a large rock, helping the barely conscious Jinghong Zhui. Panting in the rain, he said, “This is high enough. We can’t climb out in this darkness, and falling again would be worse. Let’s find a flat spot to wait out the night and figure things out at dawn.”
Jinghong Zhui couldn’t even respond and merely nodded.
A flash of lightning illuminated the dark landscape, and Jinghong Zhui pointed to a recessed area in a rock face not far away. Su Yan wiped the rain off his face and said, “It’s a cave!”
The two men painstakingly climbed into the small cavern. Though not spacious, it was large enough to shelter them from the rain. Inside, they found a flat slab of rock protruding from the wall, resembling a natural stone bed elevated about two feet above the ground—ideal for avoiding insects.
Jinghong Zhui slipped into semi-consciousness again. Su Yan quickly laid him on the stone bed and stared anxiously at the rain pouring outside.
The human body begins to experience shock when blood loss exceeds 20–30%, and severe blood loss of 50% can lead to fatal outcomes. Su Yan had no idea how much blood Jinghong Zhui had lost. Without fire, food, or medicine, he wondered if the man could survive the night.
Were Chu Yuan and the others still alive? Could they break free from the Tatar cavalry’s siege? Would they find this place?
Since being transported to this ancient time, Su Yan had never felt so helpless. Even with a blade to his throat, he’d believed that intelligence and courage could uncover a path to survival. But this time, he was despairingly aware that their fate lay in the hands of the heavens.
“When I dragged you home from under that bridge, you were gravely injured but recovered. You’ll be fine this time too, right?” Su Yan murmured, his fingers brushing Jinghong Zhui’s face in the darkness. “I’d trade all my luck for the rest of my life to save you. Just please, pull through…”
The face beneath his palm was alarmingly cold—a dangerous sign. Dampness would only hasten the loss of body heat.
In desperation, Su Yan stripped Jinghong Zhui of his wet clothes and then removed his own. Lying down on the stone bed, he held the other man tightly. It felt like embracing a block of ice, and he shivered uncontrollably.
Fortunately, it was mid-July. Even in the mountainous wilderness, the temperature didn’t drop too low—around 17–18°C. Su Yan endured the damp, hard surface of the rock, pressing Jinghong Zhui close to keep the man’s wound elevated and away from the stone.
He thought wryly: Good thing Jinghong Zhui isn’t too big, or I’d be flattened… Huh, looks lean but actually pretty heavy. Is it his bone density or muscle mass…
Exhausted, Su Yan felt hunger fading away, replaced by an all-encompassing ache. Yet, his only focus was on warming the ice-cold man in his arms. Eventually, lulled by the storm, he drifted into a fitful sleep.
I wonder whats the reaction of the 3 men in the capital :D