Tadun's eyes snapped open.
"What? The Han are raiding our camp again?"
For a moment, he froze—then let out a breath, his expression easing.
So it was just a dream.
Tonight was the Lantern Festival. How could the Han possibly march over two hundred li from Yuyang in this bitter cold just to attack him? Was Zhang Xin out of his mind?
Reassured, Tadun closed his eyes, turned over, and drifted back to sleep.
"Xiao Wang! Wake up! The Han are really attacking!"
Annoyed, Tadun lashed out with a kick, sending his attendant sprawling.
The attendant scrambled up, face full of grievance. Without hesitation, he grabbed a basin of cold water and flung it straight at Tadun.
Splash!
"Presumptuous!" Tadun leapt up instantly, fury blazing. "Have you lost your mind?!"
"Xiao Wang, are you awake now? The Han are truly here!" The attendant's voice trembled with urgency.
The icy shock and frantic shouting cleared Tadun's head. He listened carefully.
Outside, chaos reigned—clashing steel, screams, and the thunder of hooves.
His heart sank.
This wasn't a dream.
He rushed to the tent entrance and threw open the curtain.
Before him, Yellow Turban cavalry tore through the camp like a storm, cutting down Wuhuan warriors who cried out in terror. At their head rode a towering general—face red as a date, lips like painted rouge, a long beard flowing in the wind. His presence alone was enough to chill the soul.
Tadun's face went pale.
"Damn it, Zhang Xin! Have you gone mad?!" he shouted in despair. "Why aren't you celebrating the festival with your wife instead of raiding my camp?!"
Forget inheriting power—he'd be lucky to survive his uncle's wrath at this rate.
Grabbing a fur coat, Tadun turned and fled without another thought.
Guan Yu's gaze locked onto the grandest tent at the heart of the camp.
Spotting Tadun's retreating figure, he surged forward. With a single sweep, he cut down several Wuhuan warriors blocking his path, then spurred his horse into pursuit.
Their mission was simple—kill the leaders. The number of enemies slain meant nothing.
From a distant rise, Zhang Xin watched the burning Wuhuan camps.
The three tribal leaders had each established their own strongholds.
Tadun, commanding the largest force, had been entrusted to Guan Yu.
Wu Yan was assigned to Zuo Bao.
Su Puyan, with the smallest force, fell to Yang Yi.
Each led six hundred cavalry, striking straight into the enemy's heart.
Two hours later, a scout arrived.
"Report! General Guan has broken Tadun's camp. The remaining Wuhuan have surrendered!"
Zhang Xin's face lit up. "Excellent. Has Tadun been executed?"
"Not yet," the scout replied. "He fled. General Guan has taken riders to pursue him."
Zhang Xin frowned slightly.
Even with Guan Yu… he still escaped?
He truly is no ordinary man.
"What about the prisoners?" the scout asked.
"Kill them all," Zhang Xin said without hesitation. "Then send a hundred men to assist Guan Yu. The rest reinforce Zuo Bao."
"Yes, General!"
Not long after, Yang Yi arrived, grinning, a severed head in hand.
"General, the mission is complete. Su Puyan is dead."
Zhang Xin leaned in as torches were raised.
This… is him?
The man looked unremarkable—just a large, bearded figure with a shaved head.
"When we captured him, he was still asleep," Yang Yi said proudly. "He admitted his identity himself."
"Good!"
Zhang Xin nodded, satisfied.
"If the court grants you amnesty, I'll see you made a Sima."
Yang Yi's face lit up. "Thank you, General! What of the remaining prisoners?"
"Kill them."
"Yes, sir."
By dawn, news came that Wu Yan had escaped.
Zhang Xin sighed as he entered the sprawling camp.
Unlike the others, this was no mere military encampment—it housed thousands of families, almost like a city without walls.
With only six hundred men, Zuo Bao had done all he could.
"We'll have to rely on Guan Yu now…" Zhang Xin murmured.
Zuo Bao stepped forward. "General, what should be done with the prisoners?"
Zhang Xin's voice was calm, almost cold.
"Follow their customs. Any adult male taller than a cartwheel—execute them. Build a mound with their bodies."
He paused, then continued:
"Han women who wish to return home will be escorted back. The rest… will be sent to Yuyang and given as wives to deserving soldiers."
At this, the rescued Han women fell to their knees, weeping in gratitude.
The soldiers, meanwhile, exchanged eager glances.
Orders were carried out swiftly.
Heads fell one after another. Blood soaked into the earth.
No one resisted.
This was their law.
Zhang Xin watched in silence, unmoved.
This was how the Wuhuan had treated the Han for years—killing the men, taking the women.
In Yuyang alone, tens of thousands had perished.
To stop violence, one had to answer it with greater violence.
Mercy had no place on the frontier.
By noon, Guan Yu returned.
Zhang Xin stepped forward immediately. "Brother Yun, are you injured?"
"I'm fine," Guan Yu replied, though his expression was grim.
Zhang Xin's heart sank. "Did you kill Tadun?"
Guan Yu sighed.
"I chased him for thirty miles… but my horse gave out."
"He escaped."