"If Arsleng receives no word, he will realize what has happened immediately," Ao Yun said, dismounting to flip the corpse over. "Once you draw closer to Shangjin, he will mobilize his troops to encircle the city, cutting off your return."
"Was this a confidant of his?" Xin Yi asked, looking at Alatan’s face.
"At most, he was a dog," Ao Yun replied, crossing his arms. "Arsleng has no confidants; he has only himself."
"We must move toward Shangjin," Xin Yi mused. "We... shall be this group of scouts."
Ao Yun glanced at the corpse’s robes, a look of disgust crossing his face.
When the cavalry sent out to find Xin Yi returned, Arsleng was at the front lines. He had noticed that Shangjin seemed to have regained its confidence, acting with even more poise than before. He suspected that reinforcements had arrived within the city. To identify this unseen force, Arsleng scanned the horizon for any hint of a clue. Thus, when the cavalry returned, he did not go to meet them immediately.
Fewer men returned this time, raising suspicion among the sentries. The man leading the group on horseback was muffled in a fur collar, revealing only a pair of unfriendly eyes that glared fiercely at the inspecting soldiers. He spoke in the Dayuan tongue, his voice harsh and ill-tempered. "Alatan is still behind us. He went east to pursue the target; we came back first."
"The Lion King gave no order to head east."
"But he gave the order that the target must be caught." The man impatiently patted his scimitar. "Enough, brother. We are the ones who were out in the field; you should focus on guarding your post."
Those permitted to lead cavalry units were usually men of some standing in the camp, and a certain level of haughtiness was expected. The sentry did not dare say more and stepped aside to let them through. The man led his team inside; the riders following him were eerily silent. Such a disciplined unit was rare among the Dayuan troops. The sentry couldn't help but steal another glance, only to be glared back at by a rider at the tail end. He immediately pulled his head back, not daring to look again.
Once inside the camp, the group did not dismount. The leader circled toward the logistics area, his scimitar sheath striking the shoulder of a soldier carrying water with contemptuous force. "Where is our meat?" he growled. "You dare let the hunters drink the wind? Idiots."
The soldier’s expression soured. He glanced at the sheath pressing down on his shoulder and swallowed his curses. "The snow has blocked the paths. The Borjigin tribe only brought the flocks in yesterday. The Lion King ordered that the patrol units have priority in selection."
"Who cares for the Borjigin’s old sheep?" The man spat. "Keep them for yourselves to gnaw on!"
With that, he turned his horse and left, the animal leaving a steaming trail on the path.
"Pah," the water-carrier muttered behind them. "Patrol dogs!"
The horses were already far off and likely didn't hear him; not a single head turned back.
On horseback, Ao Yun lowered his voice. "Are we going?"
Behind him, Xin Yi gave a slight nod.
The patrol unit immediately turned toward the area where the frozen mutton was buried, moving with arrogant strides under the watchful eyes of others. When they arrived, several squads were already gathered around fires, roasting meat. Someone called out a greeting to Ao Yun as he approached. Muffled in his furs, he responded with a few words in the Dayuan tongue. They sat together in one spot. Ao Yun used his scimitar to clear the snow, revealing sheepskins beneath. Inside the skins were bundles of mutton.
The Dayuan could not survive winter patrols without mutton. Whenever the timing was right, other tribes from the rear would provide the flocks. The animals were slaughtered here and buried in the snow. This method allowed the meat to keep for a long time and made it easy to transport; furthermore, even if they were ambushed, the Dalan people did not have the habit of digging into the ground.
Ao Yun skillfully built a fire and used a personal dagger to slice the mutton into manageable pieces, holding them over the flames. As he roasted the meat, he asked Xin Yi, "This isn't like your granaries, which can be destroyed with a single spark. Unless we eat it all now, we have no way to steal it away secretly."
"We can make it so they don't have time to take it," Xin Yi said, reaching out to warm his hands. Watching the meat gradually take on color, he continued, "If the rear suffers a sudden raid and the tents go up in flames, the front lines will surely fall into chaos. Combined with a few deceptions, Arsleng won't have the chance to pack up this meat."
"What do you want this meat for?"
"The heavy snow has made the roads impassable. Even the Borjigin tribe won't be able to bring Arsleng fresh supplies immediately." Xin Yi carved a piece of fully cooked mutton and put it in his mouth. The meat hadn't even been sprinkled with coarse salt, and its gamey scent was heavy. "Unless he can fight his way into Shangjin. Your food supplies indeed cannot be burned away, but they are not impossible to remove. Once night falls and the next shift of front-line soldiers retreats, we move."
This move was a feigned attack.
When the front-line soldiers retreated, they barely had time for a drink of water before they had to collapse in their tents to sleep. This war of attrition relied on rotating troops to maintain a constant assault. Once they finished resting, they would replace the current batch of soldiers and return to the battlefield.
When falling into an exhausted sleep, the body is forced to relax completely, especially when there is a hint of warmth in the tent.
This batch of soldiers quickly drifted off. Snoring began to rise, and even this part of the camp seemed to drift away from the roar of iron and horse. However, that was when the fires started. Beginning with the tents, the blaze became uncontrollable in an instant. The rapid ignition was followed by shouts of "Ambush!" from another side, causing the caught-off-guard soldiers to bolt awake, still oblivious to what was happening.
"Over there!" A man on horseback pointed his whip toward the east. "They’re escaping that way! It’s the Beiyang people! Idiots, after them!"
The fire suddenly licked toward the main tent, the flames illuminating the Dayuan camp. At the front lines, Arsleng turned back, his brow furrowing instantly. However, Wu Yu, who never missed an opportunity, gave him no time to retreat. Freshly sharpened arrows whistled through the night wind from the battlements, pinning themselves into the ground around him as a warning.
In the rear, Ao Yun, leading his men out of the camp in pursuit of the "Beiyang people," suddenly reined in his horse. They had charged in one breath to a slight depression in the terrain to the east. Ao Yun’s horse took a few light steps forward when a command rang out from the high ground to the side.
"Release the nets!"
The seemingly solid snow suddenly collapsed, and the entire group of men and horses tumbled into a pit beneath the drifts. Xin Yi crawled out from the snow on the high ground, sliding and running down the slope. A Dayuan soldier had just managed to thrust a hand out of the snow pit when *Tiandao* pierced through the top of his head before he could even look up.
Screams and the neighing of horses tangled in a chaotic mess as loose snow and bodies churned together.
The Qiyan warriors drew the bows they had "borrowed" from the Dayuan camp. They didn't even need to aim; as long as the arrows landed in the pit, they were guaranteed to strike man or horse.
The Dayuan soldiers at the front began to retreat like a receding tide, holding their shields high against the rain of arrows from Shangjin. This method—chaos in the rear causing the front to fall back—was not sophisticated; it was even somewhat foolish. But Arsleng had a reason he had to retreat. He realized how similar the style of this raid was to the previous encounter in the snow.
Both bore the hallmark of Xin Yi.
If it was Xin Yi, where did he get so many men? Unless he had quietly returned to Shangjin long ago, feigning absence while intentionally plotting against the rear. But how did he sneak into the camp to set the fires? He couldn't even have passed the inspection at the gate—unless there were Dayuan people helping him.
The tribes of Dayuan were not of one heart.
This was what Arsleng feared.
"Fire!" The young boy climbed onto Wu Yu’s head, pointing at the Dayuan camp. "Fire!"
Wu Yu ordered the archers to cease fire. He leaned over the battlements to watch for a few moments, then steeled his heart. "Pursue them! The Lion King is retreating!"
Ao Yun’s horse galloped over from the side, followed by Chiye. Xin Yi flipped himself onto his mount. "We can't linger," he said. "Arsleng’s line has already pulled back. We have to go!"
"No!" Ao Yun reined in his horse by the snow pit. "If we don't kill these Zhadalan men, your Shangjin will still fall to his assault! Once he realizes there is no food, he will surely stake everything on a final siege!"
"You don't believe Shangjin can hold?"
"No." Ao Yun drew his scimitar. "If it were Xin Jing, he would never leave such a lingering threat behind."
Even Xin Yi was tempted to curse aloud. He turned his horse back; he couldn't leave Ao Yun here! If Ao Yun died, all the groundwork he had laid with the Qiyan tribe would be for naught, and the hidden troops meant for the pincer movement would never be deployed!
Ao Yun’s persistence wasn't without reason. His goal lay in the territory of the Habugeqin clan, not here. He couldn't allow his hot-bloodedness to bury a future threat under his own tribe's name.
The Arsleng kin must be ground down. Including Arsleng himself, the Zhadalan must die!
The edge of the pit became a slaughterhouse. Even those who crawled out through the rain of arrows could not escape the soul-reaping hook of the scimitars.
"Go!" Xin Yi grabbed Ao Yun by the back of his collar from horseback. "They are already heavily wounded," he said coldly. "If we leave now, we can ambush them once more. If we stay, we will only be met by Arsleng’s main force!" He suddenly gripped Ao Yun’s throat, pulling him toward his own saddle. "You only brought three hundred men, and I am but one person. If we meet Arsleng’s heavy cavalry, what do you intend to fight him with?"
His fingers tightened slightly on the throat. Ao Yun heard the young man, who had been gentle and smiling throughout the journey, speak with a chilling aura. "Otherwise, I’ll kill you right now. Beiyang and Qiyan can die together!"
Ao Yun’s eyes blazed with fury. Xin Yi released his grip. Rubbing his throat, Ao Yun finally ordered the retreat.
But it was too late.
Arsleng had arrived.
His great eagle broke through the wind, shrieking as it circled above their heads, a piercing warning directed at Xin Yi. When Xin Yi heard the eagle’s cry, the fingers of his left hand twitched in an involuntary reaction, as if they remembered the sound and the blade that followed it.
This was the painful memory earned by the loss of a pinky finger.
Even the heavy cavalry had come!
The snowy ground trembled under the weight of heavy hooves. Arsleng’s scimitar trailed blood as he came to a halt a dozen paces away.
A dense mass of Dayuan soldiers followed behind him. Xin Yi was once again reminded of the terror of being surrounded.
"Ao Yun." Arsleng’s golden eyes were incredibly piercing. He leaned forward slightly in his saddle, as if to see Ao Yun more clearly, or perhaps as a gesture of greeting. "Is the Qiyan tribe hunting here?"
The hand Ao Yun used to hold the reins trembled for a moment. He straightened his spine and called out, "Yes. I am hunting."
Arsleng’s old leather armor stood firm against the gale. The gash on his shoulder was also an old scar. He was clearly aging, yet as he sat there, he still resembled a lion.
"Tell me, what are you hunting?"
Ao Yun felt as if a blade were pressed directly against his neck; he even forgot to swallow. In such freezing weather, sweat began to roll down his spine.
"I am hunting." Ao Yun suddenly gripped the leather at his chest, clutching it tightly as if grasping for courage. He stared into Arsleng’s golden eyes and said slowly and firmly, "I am hunting an old lion."
Arsleng looked at him as if looking at a fledgling eagle on Mount Jianan. "You wish to hunt a lion, yet you choose to walk beside a wolf cub of Beiyang."
"The Habugeqin clan isolated my tribe, usurped my throne, and forcibly took my mother," Ao Yun spat through gritted teeth. "No one in Dayuan would help me hunt the Lion King—only Beiyang. Even if it is a wolf cub, I would dare to trade my own flesh and blood for the chance."
"That is a pity." Arsleng removed his leather cap and bowed toward the cold night sky. "King of Qiyan, I wish you luck." Then, his gaze shifted to Xin Yi, his scimitar flipping upward. "Prince of Yan, I hope that what stays behind tonight is your entire person, and not just a pinky finger."
Xin Yi lowered *Tiandao* and said softly, "I hope for the same."
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 孛尔只斤 | Borjigin | A Dayuan tribe. |
| 大岚 | Dalan | The name of the empire/dynasty (Beiyang is a region within it). |
| 哈布格钦 | Habugeqin | The clan that usurped Ao Yun's position. |
| 迦南山 | Mount Jianan | A mountain mentioned by Arsleng. |
