Chapter 115: Night Raid

"The Liang people are shameless! Shameless! Quickly, save him!" The Qiang commander swung his blade toward the ramparts, ordering his troops to assault the city.

The Qiang archers immediately loosed a volley of arrows. The local militia on the walls scrambled to duck, yet several were still struck down by the whistling arrows. The Qiang infantry reformed their ranks, hoisting ladders as they charged toward the wall.

Qi Jun and his men retreated into the city, sealing the gates. They immediately dragged the bedraggled Fannuo up to the battlements and shouted down to the Qiang troops below: "Stop! Fall back! Otherwise, this man dies!"

The Qiang commander realized the situation instantly. Fearing for Fannuo’s life, he had no choice but to order his signalman to sound the retreat. The Qiang infantry, who had already reached the foot of the wall under a hail of arrows, were forced to halt just as they raised their ladders. Hearing the horns, they cast one resentful glance upward before retreating behind their shields.

"The Liang Kingdom claims to be a land of propriety, yet you are so shameless!" The Qiang commander’s eyes blazed with fury as he pointed his finger at Qi Jun, cursing him.

"Propriety and honor? You Qiang have invaded our borders and slaughtered our people—how can you speak of honor?" Qi Jun sneered, pointing back at the commander. "We Liang people value honor and integrity, but we owe no honor to invaders, and we stand on no ceremony with bandits!"

"You! You..." The Qiang commander was rendered speechless, his heart filled with a seething, impotent rage.

"If you want to see him die, keep attacking. If you don't, then get the hell back!" As Qi Jun spoke, he pressed his blade against Fannuo’s neck and drew it slightly, cutting the skin. Fannuo shrieked in pain: "General Kebie! Do you want me to die?!"

"Don't hurt him! We are retreating!" Kebie shuddered at the sound, immediately ordering his troops to pull back. They were forced to set up a temporary camp a mile away.

Kebie found himself completely checkmated by Qi Jun, forced to turn his horse and depart with nothing but frustration. By now, the arrogance and bluster they had arrived with were gone; the frustration of failed assaults and the capture of Fannuo were eroding the morale of his men. What was supposed to be an easy capture of Anqiang City with a thousand men had turned into a stalemate with hundreds of casualties and zero progress.

Kebie sat in his tent, his face grim as he listened to the drizzling rain and stared at the dancing charcoal in the brazier, his heart filled with extreme bitterness. He knew the main Qiang force was currently locked in battle with the Liang’s Western Defense Army. Confident in his troops' battlefield superiority, he felt a crushing sense of defeat at being stalled by this tiny city. Meanwhile, Fannuo, seeing his forces retreat, had lost his former haughtiness and contempt; he slumped in defeat, eyes closed, lost in his own thoughts.

"Where is Liu Biao? Have him take this Qiang and interrogate him," Qi Jun said, pushing Fannuo toward a villager.

"Biaozi left the city before the Qiang arrived and hasn't returned yet. He must still be outside..." the villager replied, a look of worry crossing his face.

"He didn't make it in?" Qi Jun paused. The fighting had been so intense he hadn't noticed Liu Biao’s absence. However, he wasn't overly concerned. Given that Liu Biao was a former scout captain from the Western Defense Army’s vanguard, he should be safe enough outside the walls. The vanguard—the so-called "cannon fodder" unit—was always at the front, facing the enemy’s blades and arrows directly. A veteran who had survived that could hardly be expected to fall to these Qiang raiders.

Qi Jun sighed, ordering the villagers to lock Fannuo in the gate tower. Using him as a human shield gave them a temporary reprieve. He was deeply worried about the situation on the front lines at Ding'an and when reinforcements from Minzhou might arrive. If Ding'an fell, an isolated city like Anqiang would be impossible to hold. If that came to pass, no amount of reinforcements would matter. Qi Jun pondered that if things reached that point, they would have no choice but to retreat into the mountains for guerrilla warfare or flee to Minzhou. He exhaled a long breath; either choice meant abandoning everything they had built here and starting over.

In the Qiang camp, Kebie summoned his lieutenants for an urgent meeting to discuss a rescue plan. "Speak up, all of you. If anything happens to Fannuo, the Chieftain will have our heads!" Kebie said, tossing a piece of charcoal into the brazier and poking at the embers. The lieutenants remained silent, their heads bowed, faces solemn. The tent was so quiet one could hear a pin drop, save for the faint crackling of the fire.

"What? Are you all mute?" Infuriated, Kebie kicked over the brazier and stood up, pointing at them.

"General, I have an idea, though I'm not sure if it's feasible..." one lieutenant said, startled, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"Spit it out!" Kebie sat back down, glaring at him.

"The Liang defenses are thin. We could send a group of elite warriors to infiltrate the city under the cover of night..."

"Go on!" Kebie urged, sensing the lieutenant's intent.

"Once they rescue Fannuo, they can open the gates, allowing us to attack from within and without..." The lieutenant smiled smugly at Kebie.

"A viable plan. Let us try it... Send men to arrange it at once. We move when darkness falls!" Kebie slammed his fist onto the table, praying for the success of the mission.

Night fell, and the rain lightened. Sparse droplets fell onto the sheepskin coats and scimitars of the Qiang soldiers, as well as the helmets and sidearms of the local militia. Liu Kui had brought in a stockpile of gunpowder made by the death-row prisoners, and Qi Jun was carefully packing it into cloth bags in the gate tower.

In the Qiang camp, Kebie held a simple pre-battle sacrificial ritual for a dozen elite warriors. He personally slaughtered a white sheep, poured the blood into a bowl, and shared it among the men, hoping for their success. The warriors drained the warm blood and smeared the remainder on their faces. In Qiang custom, this was believed to imbue their souls and bones with the power and courage granted by heaven.

"May the White Stone protect you! Go!" Kebie commanded in a low voice.

"May the White Stone protect us!" The warriors roared in unison, then vanished into the darkness, racing toward the walls of Anqiang.

The exhausted militia, worn thin by a full day of desperate fighting, found their vigilance waning as the Qiang retreated. Lured by the soft sound of the rain, many huddled under the battlements, unable to resist the creeping weight of sleep.

*Clang!*

A militiaman, drifting off while clutching his blade, suddenly heard the faint sound of metal striking stone against the wall behind him. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, but saw nothing unusual in the darkness. Dismissing it as a hallucination, he leaned back down—only to catch a flicker of metallic light on the wall. He rubbed his eyes hard and looked again, realizing with a jolt that the metal was a grappling hook.

Before he could shout a warning, a Qiang soldier who had scaled the rope slashed his throat with a curved blade. The militiaman collapsed into the puddles on the ramparts, his blood mingling with the rainwater. His last sight, reflecting in his terrified eyes, was a savage, blood-smeared face.