Chapter 119: The Great Battle Begins

Inside Li Yan’s command tent, the chaotic brawl was nearing its end. Although Ma Shouying, He Yilong, He Jin, Liu Xiyao, and Lin Yangcheng were all skilled warriors, they were caught in a melee without allies, forced to face four opponents simultaneously.

Lin Yangcheng was the first to fall. Just as he parried He Jin’s broadsword, Ma Shouying struck back, his blade slicing open Lin’s abdomen, spilling hot entrails and blood in a gruesome rush. With a howl, Lin lunged forward, clutching He Jin’s waist in a death grip. As He Jin struggled to break free, Liu Xiyao swept his blade across He Jin’s neck with effortless precision. Blood sprayed, and He Jin’s head was sent spinning high into the air.

Liu Xiyao had barely time to gloat before a bone-chilling cold pierced his back and erupted through his chest. His entire body went numb, paralyzed. As he looked down with great effort, he saw the tip of a sword protruding from his chest, beads of bright red blood dripping from the keen edge.

Ma Shouying had run his sword through Liu Xiyao’s heart. Just as he prepared to pull the blade back, He Yilong pounced, his iron palm—capable of shattering mountains—crashing into Ma’s back. Ma Shouying gave a muffled groan, his eyes bulging as his tightly clenched jaw suddenly flew open, spewing a massive clot of blood that sprayed over ten feet away.

Watching Ma Shouying slowly collapse to the ground, He Yilong threw his head back and roared with laughter. He turned to the stunned rebel generals and bellowed, "I am the strongest! From this day on, I am the commander-in-chief of the Shaanxi rebel army! Li Zicheng is nothing, and Zhang Xianzhong is not worth a damn. From now on, I stand as their equal... urgh!"

He Yilong’s robust body shuddered violently, and he let out a shrill, piercing scream.

A sinister, cackling laugh echoed from behind him. Ma Shouying’s face, blood-smeared and twisted into a ghastly, demonic grin, appeared before He Yilong. "You bastard," he wheezed, laughing like a vengeful spirit, "I am the strongest. What are you, He Yilong? Heh-heh..."

"I’ll kill you!"

He Yilong suddenly threw his hands out, clamping onto Ma Shouying’s neck like a crab’s pincers. Veins bulged on Ma Shouying’s forehead like earthworms as his face flushed deep red. He stabbed frantically at He Yilong’s vital organs with his dagger, but He Yilong refused to let go.

"Argh!" He Yilong let out a final, heaven-shaking roar. Summoning his last ounce of strength, he kept his left hand locked on Ma’s throat while his right hand gripped Ma’s head and gave it a violent twist. With a sharp, sickening snap, Ma Shouying’s neck was broken, and he died instantly without a sound.

He Yilong cast the corpse aside and let out a triumphant laugh, but as he did, jets of blood spurted from his own wounds. Soon, his laughter grew weak, his sturdy frame swayed, and he collapsed to the ground.

The air was thick with the heavy stench of blood. The surrounding rebel generals, including all the officers of the "Five Left-Wing Camps," had witnessed the entire gruesome scene. To decide who would be the commander-in-chief, the five leaders of the Five Left-Wing Camps had annihilated one another.

In the suffocating silence that followed, Li Yan stepped into the center of the fray. With a somber expression, he said, "I tried my best to dissuade them, but the five generals insisted on their own way, determined to settle the matter through force... It pains me deeply to see such a tragedy, for we have not gained a new commander-in-chief, but have instead lost five battle-hardened generals."

With these simple, disarming words, Li Yan dissolved the resentment and hatred of the former subordinates. The logic was clear: the duel had been initiated by the five of them for the sake of their own ambition. It was not a matter of personal vendetta, nor did it involve Li Yan.

Even if the former subordinates wanted revenge, they had no target; the five were all dead. One could hardly transfer that hatred to their fellow brothers. Furthermore, the remaining troops were now more concerned with who would take command of the five camps. Though Ma Shouying and the others had left behind many confidants, none seemed truly qualified—or rather, there were dozens of qualified candidates for only five positions.

"Generals, this is not the time for sorrow, nor for mutual retribution!" Li Yan continued. "Our grain stores are nearly empty. If we don't find food, we will starve! There is only one path to survival: we must storm Datong and seize the supplies inside the city!"

All eyes turned to Li Yan. They suddenly realized a simple truth: with the five leaders gone, there was no one left in the Shaanxi rebel army with the authority to challenge Li Yan. If anyone wanted to become a new camp leader, they had to earn Li Yan’s favor.

A quick-witted general shouted, "Commander! We of the Huihui Camp follow you!"

"Commander, the Luan-Shi Camp follows you too!"

"The Gai-Shi Camp follows you as well!"

"Commander, the Zuo-Jin Camp is with you."

"The Geli Camp as well."

The remaining generals quickly followed suit, scrambling to pledge their loyalty. Li Yan nodded and declared, "Now is the time for us to stand together. Generals, return to your camps, muster your men, and prepare to attack the city under the cover of night!"

"Yes!" the generals roared in unison and departed to carry out their orders.

***

In the arrow tower of the South Gate of Datong, Wang Pu was napping at his desk when the sound of light footsteps approached. He turned to see his pretty maid, Nenniang, carrying a basin of steaming water.

"General, you have been working hard all day," she said softly. "Let me wash your feet to help you relax."

She set the basin down, knelt, and placed Wang Pu’s left foot on her long, rounded thigh. After removing his boots and socks, she cupped the hot water and applied it to his sole, then looked up with her delicate face. "General, is the water too hot?"

Wang Pu shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

A sweet smile bloomed on Nenniang’s face as she began to gently rub his feet. The heat and her soft touch sent a wave of inexplicable comfort up Wang Pu’s spine, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied groan.

"General, does it feel good?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It feels good," Wang Pu admitted. "Too good."

Nenniang pursed her lips and smiled. "Then I shall wash your feet for you every day."

Wang Pu said nothing. As the saying went, it is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury back to frugality. He feared that within a few months, he would lose the courage to endure hardships alongside his soldiers. Once accustomed to Nenniang’s meticulous care, returning to the grueling life of a military campaign would be difficult indeed.

Thinking of this, Wang Pu said, "Nenniang, perhaps you should return to the Wang family estate tomorrow?"

Nenniang’s movements ceased. She looked up at him, and in an instant, her beautiful eyes welled with tears. Her rosy face showed a sense of grievance as she sobbed, "General, have I done something wrong?"

"Cough, no," Wang Pu said, scratching his head. "You haven't done anything wrong. You have done very well."

"You are lying," Nenniang pouted. "I must have done something wrong, or you wouldn't be sending me back."

"Cough. Well... then don't go back to the estate," Wang Pu said, unable to bear seeing her cry. "You can stay by my side, but no more crying."

"Really?" Nenniang’s tears turned to smiles instantly. "General, you aren't sending me away?"

Looking at her charming, tear-streaked face, Wang Pu’s heart skipped a beat. He thought that if he kept such a girl by his side, he might eventually lose his restraint. Moreover, Chen Yuanyuan had sent her to the military with this very intention, which had lowered his guard.

"Little girl," Wang Pu teased, "aren't you afraid the General might do something bad to you?"

"I’m not," Nenniang said, blushing as she looked at him. "You defied an imperial decree to refuse a marriage for your wife, and you stormed an execution ground for Brother Huzi. You are not a bad man."

As she spoke, she was still kneeling, her rear end raised as she rubbed his feet. Because of her posture, her white riding trousers clung tightly to her curves, accentuating the roundness of her hips. Wang Pu had to look away to keep from pulling her into his arms right then and there.

The atmosphere in the room grew increasingly intimate, but just as Wang Pu was about to lose his composure, the sound of constant horn-blowing erupted from outside the South Gate. Wang Pu’s expression shifted. He turned toward the window, his voice dropping to a grave tone. "No, the rebels are going to attack the city through the night!"

"Lü Liu!" Wang Pu stood up in the basin before Nenniang could dry his feet. "Lü Liu!"

Lü Liu, who usually loitered outside the room, hurried in after a moment. "I am here, sir!"

"Immediately send men to fetch Big Beard, Scarface, Zhao Xin, and Zhao Liujin!"

"Yes, sir!"

When the four arrived, Wang Pu was already dressed. He stood by the arrow slit, watching the enemy. Through the opening, they saw the dark night sky illuminated by countless torches, turning the area outside Datong as bright as day. Under the flickering light, the rebels swarmed forward like an endless sea of ants, their battle cries shaking the heavens.

"General, the rebels have assembled three echelons outside the city," Big Beard, the most experienced at estimating troop numbers, said gravely. "Each echelon has at least five thousand men. There are at least five more echelons gathering, and they have over five hundred makeshift scaling ladders."

"Li Yan is playing a bold hand!" Zhao Xin exclaimed. "No probing attacks? He’s going straight for a full-scale assault with eight echelons—forty thousand men! Does he really think his rabble can take Datong in one go?"

Wang Pu turned and barked, "Zhao Liujin!"

"Present!"

"Send another thousand-man unit to bolster the South Gate defenses!"

"Yes, sir!"

Wang Pu turned to Big Beard. "Take a thousand musketeers and wait in the barbican. If Zhao Liujin’s men can’t hold, open the gates and lead a counter-attack to drive them back."

"Understood."

Wang Pu then addressed Scarface and Zhao Xin. "You two, stay alert. Guard the North, West, East, and Small East gates—especially you, Zhao Xin. Guard the Small East Gate well!"

"The Small East Gate?" Zhao Xin asked in surprise. "Surely not. The walls there are the highest, and the defensive facilities are the most complete—they even have two mortars. Why would the rebels attack the hardest point?"

"There is a saying in the military classics," Wang Pu said solemnly. "Strike where they are unprepared, attack where they do not expect it. Remember this: the places that seem the least likely to be attacked are often the ones you must guard most carefully!"