Chapter One Hundred: Three Entries, Three Exits

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As Zhang the Monk charged recklessly into the dense ranks of the Khorchin cavalry with over seven hundred horsemen, Wang Pu wasted no hesitation and shouted sternly, “Lü Liu!”

Lü Liu promptly stepped forward and responded, “At your service!”

Wang Pu ordered, “Immediately send word to the Beard—have his musketeers hold the camp and guard the horses well!”

“Yes, sir!” Lü Liu acknowledged and hurriedly turned to dispatch the orders to his men.

Wang Pu then called out, “Scarface, Tang Sheng!”

Scarface and Tang Sheng stepped forward sharply, responding in unison, “We are here!”

“Gather your men at once and ride out with me to support the Monk!” Wang Pu commanded.

“Yes, sir!” They both roared back before turning to swiftly carry out the orders.

The Khorchin cavalry had launched two attacks the previous night—first, a force of two thousand horsemen, then another of nearly a thousand infantry. Both were easily repelled by the musketeers under the Beard’s command. Since Zhang the Monk had captured the Khan’s court, Banktu and Sogor, uncertain of Wukeshan’s fate, refrained from rash moves.

In the end, the Khorchin lost more than fifteen hundred dead outside the Ming camp. Of these, only about two hundred were killed outright by the Ming musketeers; the rest, though wounded, succumbed to blood loss or freezing due to lack of timely aid.

Banktu and Sogor had planned to negotiate with the Ming at dawn, first confirming Wukeshan’s status before deciding on war or peace. But before their envoys could be sent out, Zhang the Monk had already led over seven hundred horsemen out to attack the Khorchin camp.

Not daring to underestimate the threat, Banktu and Sogor hastily concentrated their forces, surrounding Zhang’s men.

Though the Khorchin had lost more than fifteen hundred riders the previous night, they still had over seven thousand cavalry, maintaining a clear numerical advantage. After a long night’s rest, both men and horses had recovered their strength.

Zhang the Monk’s seven hundred horsemen were skilled riders and marksmen, superb horsemen, but they were vastly outnumbered and severely fatigued after two sleepless days and nights. Their only sustenance was hatred and reckless courage.

Soon, Zhang and his men were encircled by the Khorchin cavalry, a black sea of riders as far as the eye could see. It seemed that, apart from the Khorchin and their mounts, no other living creatures existed in this world!

Grasping a pair of captured horse forks, Zhang spun them like wheels. The Khorchin cavalry before him fell like waves breaking against rocks, many tumbling from their horses. His formidable strength and exquisite skill rendered him nearly invincible; few Khorchin could withstand a single blow.

Yet, personal valor could not bridge the chasm of overwhelming forces. More and more of his comrades fell in pools of blood. Soon, only half the riders behind Zhang remained; the rest were either dead or trapped in the Khorchin’s encirclement, fighting desperately for their lives.

Amid the chaos, a burly Khorchin horseman charged forward, brandishing a raised horse-cleaving saber aimed at Zhang’s head. With a grim smile, Zhang lightly parried the descending blade with his left horse fork, then thrust forward with his right, piercing the rider’s abdomen.

The Khorchin let out a piercing scream as Zhang hoisted him by the fork. With a fierce shove, the rider’s sturdy body was thrown through the air, crashing into several other Khorchin horsemen. Laughing loudly toward the sky, Zhang was about to spur his mount forward when a sudden, chilling wave of killing intent swept in from the left front.

Zhang snapped his head to see two Khorchin archers not ten paces away, bowstrings drawn taut.

“Whoosh!”

Two wolf-tooth arrows shot through the air like meteors, one aimed at Zhang’s throat, the other at his chest. Instinctively, Zhang bent and twisted his body; the arrows grazed close to his windpipe and ribs, missing by mere inches.

But Zhang’s fortune ran out there.

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Though Zhang dodged the fatal arrows, he did not avoid the Khorchin cavalry’s gleaming saber thrust. His right leg was pierced by a horse fork, blood pouring instantly. Then his mount’s front leg was severed, letting out a mournful whinny as it collapsed. Zhang was violently thrown to the ground.

Before he could regain his footing, another Khorchin horseman charged in. The rider sharply reined in his horse, which reared up on its hind legs. With powerful iron hooves, it stomped down fiercely on Zhang’s head. Zhang’s right leg was numb; he was too slow to evade.

At the brink of death, Zhang reached out and seized the descending hoof with both hands. With a sudden heave and shove, he slammed both rider and horse to the ground. Before the Khorchin could rise, Zhang pounced and clutched his throat tightly.

“Boss, watch out!” a thunderous shout rang from behind. Zhang whipped his head around just as a curved saber whistled toward his face, the sharp blade less than two inches away. There was no time to dodge. Closing his eyes and stiffening his neck, Zhang braced himself to take the blow head-on.

He could not rely on his Shaolin iron head technique—it was now too late to test.

“Clang!”

At the critical moment, a horse fork suddenly appeared before Zhang’s face, blocking the saber’s deadly arc. Opening his eyes, Zhang saw Cheng Chun withdrawing his fork and thrusting again, knocking the assailant from his horse.

Clearly, Cheng Chun had just saved his life.

Zhang opened his mouth to thank him, but suddenly a Khorchin horseman swept like a whirlwind behind Cheng Chun, swinging a sharp curved saber at his neck. The battlefield’s cacophony masked all sound; Cheng Chun, focused on saving Zhang, was oblivious to the deadly attack from behind.

“Old Cheng!” Zhang’s eyes widened in horror as he screamed.

Cheng Chun thought Zhang was greeting him, and cheekily blinked, conveying, “With me here, Monk, you won’t die.”

“Shah!”

A flash of steel—the saber slid cleanly across Cheng Chun’s neck. His gaunt body shuddered violently; his gaze toward Zhang turned vacant. A thin line of blood blossomed around his throat, and moments later, his head fell lifelessly, sliding from his neck.

Zhang stared wide-eyed at the severed head before him. The world seemed to recede; all sound vanished except the dull thud of the head hitting the ground, bouncing, then settling.

Cheng Chun’s lifeless eyes stared blankly; another brother-in-arms lost forever. Zhang wanted to cry but could not; wanted to scream but had no voice. His chest felt as if it were about to burst.

“Boss, the brothers can’t hold much longer!” A piercing voice exploded beside Zhang’s ear like thunder. “Order a breakout now, or we’ll all be lost here!”

Suddenly, the flood of sound rushed back into Zhang’s ears; he was back on the chaotic battlefield. Looking up sharply, he saw Wang Mazi and his men surrounding him, desperately resisting the relentless, overwhelming Khorchin assaults.

Zhang vaulted onto a riderless warhorse and shouted, “Wang Mazi, where are the others?”

“All dead!” Wang Mazi screamed hoarsely. “Those still alive are all here!”

“Boss,” another comrade said grimly, “we can’t break out. Today, I fear we’ll all die here.”

A shadow of sorrow crossed Zhang’s face. He said regretfully, “It’s my fault our brothers died.”

“Look, the banner!” Suddenly, a comrade shouted excitedly, “Our banner!”

“Hmm?”

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“Eh?”

Zhang the Monk, Wang Mazi, and the others followed the pointing finger and indeed saw a large white banner fluttering fiercely amid the Khorchin hordes. On the pure white field was a striking blood-red cross. In an instant, Wang Pu’s resolute words echoed in everyone’s minds: “Where the banner appears, our army appears! Wherever the banner points, all brothers charge!”

“General! The general has come to save us!” Zhang the Monk, as if injected with a surge of adrenaline, instantly regained full fighting spirit and howled to the heavens, “Brothers! Follow me toward the banner! Charge!”

“Charge!”

“Yaaah!”

The last surviving three hundred horse thieves roared madly, following Zhang and Wang Mazi as they surged toward the fluttering banner in the north wind.

Caught between the two wings of the Ming cavalry, the Khorchin soon faltered. When Zhang finally appeared before Wang Pu with the remaining three hundred horsemen, the usually cold and beast-like man broke down in tears.

“General, I caused so many brothers to die and troubled you…”

“Say no more,” Wang Pu cut him off coldly. “Take care of your men and charge out with me!”

“Yes!” Zhang stifled his sobs and roared back.

Wang Pu then bellowed, “Scarface, lead five hundred horsemen to clear the path ahead. Tang Sheng, bring five hundred horsemen to rear guard. Lü Liu, guard the banner with your life! Until all brothers have fallen, this banner cannot fall. Understood?”

“Yes!” Scarface and Tang Sheng roared their assent and set off. Lü Liu gripped the banner tightly, raising it high—this banner was the soul of their army. Before total annihilation, it must never fall. Never!

The Ming forces sought to break through, but the Khorchin cavalry would not let them succeed. Banktu and Sogor deployed troops to block and intercept, determined to slaughter the surrounded Ming horsemen.

Yet, under the banner’s guidance, over two thousand Ming cavalry rallied their will and strength, fighting with desperate valor. Their momentum overwhelmed the enemy. Despite the Khorchin’s full efforts, they failed to stop the Ming breakout.

In less than half an hour, Wang Pu led the Ming forces out of the encirclement.

Beneath the billowing banner, Wang Pu shouted sharply, “Have all the brothers broken through?”

A soldier answered loudly, “General, Tang Qian and his rear guard of five hundred men have not!”

Wang Pu pulled up hard and turned back, slashing his sword as he roared, “I, Wang Pu, will never abandon my soldiers on the battlefield, and neither shall you abandon your brothers! If not today, then never! Brothers, follow me back—rescue Tang Qian and his five hundred rear guard!”

“Yes! We’ll charge back now!”

“We must save Tang Qian and the others!”

“General, we follow your orders—whatever you say, we do!”

The soldiers erupted with renewed morale. Zhang, just rescued from the chaos by Wang Pu, screamed hoarsely, feeling more than anyone the profound truth behind “Never abandon your brothers on the battlefield!”

Wang Pu’s words were no mere empty phrase; his actions declared to all that brothers stand together through life and death.