Guan Yu watched the dense blocks of Wen Chou's infantry, still struggling to close the distance several li down the road, and then turned his gaze back to Zhao Yun.
"Magnificent!" Guan Yu nodded, his demeanor radiating an intense, quiet confidence. "Zilong, I shall leave the vanguard's head in your hands!"
"Yunchang, set your mind at ease."
Zhao Yun flashed a calm, effortless smile. He vaulted seamlessly into his saddle, gripped his silver spear, and swept his gaze across a detachment of a hundred elite shock cavalry waiting in the shadows. He raised his hand, gesturing forward. "Follow me!"
The Ambush at Wulu Market
Outside the perimeter of Wulu Market, Tian Kai was galloping wildly, his uniform torn and covered in dust, the picture of absolute, unmitigated panic.
After sustaining a brutal, all-night forced march on horseback before transitioning immediately to hard physical labor under the blazing sun, not only were his ordinary Youzhou soldiers pushed to the absolute brink of collapse, but he himself was also utterly spent. If he hadn't cleverly swapped his exhausted mount for Guan Yu's exceptionally bred, high-stamina warhorse during the pontoon bridge assembly phase, his pace would have lagged long ago, and he likely would have been run down by the enemy's pursuit by now.
Because Tian Kai's physical exhaustion and disheveled state were entirely real, Wen Chou's keen predatory senses detected absolutely nothing amiss. If anything, the sight of a high-ranking enemy general fleeing in such a pathetic state only added fuel to his manic excitement.
"Treacherous dog! Do not dare think you can escape my blade!" Wen Chou roared, leading his small cluster of horsemen in a fierce, breathless pursuit, completely oblivious to the fact that they had just breached the outer tree line of Wulu Market.
Right at that exact, vulnerable moment, a voice like a crack of thunder erupted from the depths of the dense foliage.
"Arrogant villain! Do not dare presume your victory!"
Before the echo could fade, over a hundred heavy shock cavalrymen tore through the brush, their armored mounts slamming into the clearing. Leading the charge was a magnificent general with sword-like brows and starry eyes, his posture commanding and awe-inspiring.
"Changshan Zhao Zilong is here!"
Tian Kai caught sight of the iconic silver armor and let out a breathless cry of pure, unadulterated relief. "Zilong! Save me!"
"Shi Fan, clear the sector immediately! Leave these pursuing dogs to me!" Zhao Yun roared, fiercely digging his spurs into his charger as he shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.
Tian Kai shouted his gratitude over his shoulder, swiftly steering his mount away from the center of the clearing and slipping out of the engagement zone.
"What in the—!"
The moment Wen Chou's eyes locked onto the approaching figure of Zhao Yun, a terrifying, suppressed memory from past campaigns instantly flashed through his mind, causing his blood to turn to ice. Without a single second of hesitation, he yanked his horse's reins so hard the beast reared, turning tail to flee.
"Fall back! It's a trap! It's an ambush!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with a sudden, overwhelming panic.
"Retreat! Fall back immediately!" The handful of cavalrymen flanking Wen Chou dared not linger. Witnessing their fearsome commander instantly break into a rout, they frantically turned their mounts around to escape the pocket.
"Where do you think you are going?"
Zhao Yun's warhorse closed the gap with terrifying speed. In a seamless, fluid motion, he secured his spear, unslung his recurve bow, and notched a heavy armor-piercing arrow. Drawing the string to his ear, he released it.
Thwack!
The missile tore through the air, striking Wen Chou squarely in the center of his back, piercing through the seams of his armor plates.
"What a terrifyingly fast arrow..." Wen Chou groaned, a metallic taste flooding his mouth. Enduring the white-hot agony radiating through his spine, he threw his upper body forward, hugging his stallion's neck with all his remaining strength to prevent himself from slipping out of the saddle.
"Cut off their retreat!"
Standing atop the high ground, Yu Jin witnessed the enemy's sudden attempt to break out and violently brought down his command flag. Sun Guan, catching the signal, immediately barked orders to dozens of heavy Xuzhou infantrymen stationed near the flank, throwing them forward to form a makeshift wall across Wen Chou's path.
"Get out of my way!" Wen Chou gritted his teeth so hard they bled, his eyes rolling back with madness as he raised his long spear, swinging it in massive, desperate arcs. "Those who block my path die!"
"Do not let the enemy general slip through the net!" Sun Guan roared, personally throwing himself into the melee. He spurred his horse forward, brandishing his heavy Dao saber, charging straight into the center of the hostile cavalry detail.
"Ahhhh!"
Wen Chou's vision was tinting red with adrenaline and pain. He swung his long spear like a man possessed, unleashing a series of gutteral, animalistic roars. "Get out! Get out! Get out of my way!"
The Xuzhou soldiers in the immediate vicinity were primarily light infantry elements who had not been given ample time to lock their shields and form a proper, layered phalanx. Under the desperate, heavy impact of panicked cavalry, they simply could not hold the line against Wen Chou's raw, berserk strength.
However, their strategic objective was never to completely halt the warlord's escape. They merely needed to delay his forward momentum for a handful of seconds.
Just as Wen Chou systematically hacked through the final line of infantry blocking his vector, preparing to break out into the open plains, the air behind him split apart. Zhao Yun had arrived.
A single silver spear thrust out, humming with lethal kinetic energy.
Hearing the terrifying rush of wind whistling behind his skull, Wen Chou instinctively tried to twist his body to parry.
Pfft.
"So... so blindingly fast a spear..."
Wen Chou's eyes widened to the size of saucers, the strength instantly evaporating from his limbs. He involuntarily dropped his heavy spear into the dirt, his trembling hands reaching up to stanch the massive, pulsing torrent of blood geysering from a hole precisely centered in his throat.
His fingers had barely risen halfway to his neck when another flash of cold, blinding light illuminated his fading vision.
What a beautifully fast blade... Wen Chou thought dimly, a final, detached appreciation echoing through his mind before his consciousness plunged into absolute, eternal darkness.
Zhao Yun executed a sharp, practiced flick of his wrist, clearing the layer of crimson from his Han saber before sliding it back into its scabbard. Looking down at the headless, armored corpse gushing blood onto the dirt, he raised his voice into a thunderous, ringing roar that echoed across the valley.
"Your commander is dead! Dismount and surrender, or be slaughtered where you stand!"
The remaining hostile cavalrymen spun around at the sound of the shout. When their eyes locked onto the sight of Wen Chou's headless torso slowly sliding off his horse into the mud, and realized they were entirely encircled by elite troops, the fight instantly drained from their bodies. They helplessly threw down their weapons, dismounted, and raised their hands in surrender.
Sun Guan lost no time, quickly leading his infantry details forward to disarm and secure the prisoners.
"Quickly, clear the field," Zhao Yun directed, his gaze shifting across the river toward the opposite bank, where the massive, retreating columns of Youzhou soldiers were within a li of the pontoon bridges. "Clear the scene immediately."
Sun Guan nodded, commanding his men to drag the fresh corpses and dead mounts away from the immediate vicinity of the bridgehead to ensure their fleeing allies would not have their footsteps impeded by the debris of the skirmish.
The Chaos at the Crossings
"Run! Run for the river!"
The vanguard of the Youzhou soldiers finally slammed into the western bridgehead, a dense, chaotic mass of humanity rushing to force their way across the narrow pontoon structures. The Xuzhou soldiers stationed on the eastern bank once again executed their rehearsed panic protocol, turning on their heels to simulate a rout. Their lines appeared shattered and disorganized to any distant observer, but beneath the surface, under the quiet, precise hand gestures of their veteran centurions, the formation remained tightly bound, capable of pivoting into an iron wall at a moment's notice.
When Wen Chou's primary infantry blocks finally burst into the clearing and beheld the immense treasure trove of copper coins and abandoned grain sacks littering the approach to the bridge, any semblance of tactical cohesion vanished. They completely ignored the fleeing enemy and threw themselves onto the ground, frantically scrambling to fill their pockets.
"Halt! Do not touch those supplies!" a junior officer in the column screamed at the top of his lungs, his face flushed with panic. "Do not pick up a single item from the dirt! Maintain formation!"
The officer was sweating through his armor. Wen Chou had ridden deep into the enemy's perimeter with only a handful of scouts. Given how far their commander had penetrated, if the infantry did not rapidly cross the river to establish a defensive perimeter around him, what would happen if he was overwhelmed by numbers and cut down?
However, the bitter reality was that the vast majority of these men were simple farmers who had only recently been dragged away from their fields by force; the abstract concept of military discipline meant absolutely nothing to them. Han Fu's administration had enacted a brutal scorched-earth policy, stripping their villages bare before forcibly conscripting them. Their families back home had already lost everything to the war. Now, with a fortune in raw currency and refined rations laying unclaimed in the dirt, how could they possibly resist seizing enough wealth to offset their catastrophic personal ruin?
Faced with an army composed of such elements, a lone junior officer stood no chance. In truth, even if Wen Chou were still alive and standing right here, he likely would have found himself completely powerless to arrest the momentum of their greed.
"Get your hands off that! It's mine! I saw it first!"
"The hell it is! I'll crack your skull open!"
Within minutes, Wen Chou's vanguard soldiers were actively brawling with one another, trade blades and fists flying as they fought over the scattered bait.
During the melee, several sharp-eyed conscripts happened to look across the rocking pontoon structures and noticed that the eastern bank was cluttered with even more abandoned logistical carts, seemingly overflowing with undisturbed supplies. Desperate to outmaneuver their comrades, they instantly abandoned the brawl on the western bank and ran onto the narrow planks, sprinting toward the opposite side.
Seeing this, the rest of the ravenous horde immediately caught on.
"There's an untouched hoard on the eastern bank!" someone shrieked.
The announcement triggered an absolute stampede. The entire mass of thousands of soldiers on the western shore began surged forward, crushing their way onto the pontoon bridges. But the wooden structures were only wide enough for a few men to walk abreast. With hundreds of desperate, heavily loaded men violently shoving their way onto the spans simultaneously, the perimeter collapsed; dozens of men were instantly losing their footing, screaming as they were squeezed off the edge and plunged into the rushing torrents of the Qing River.
"Wenze, do we spring the trap now?" Guan Yu asked, his hand tightening around the haft of his blade as he watched the chaotic spectacle unfold from the crest of the mountain.
"Maintain position," Yu Jin replied, his face entirely unreadable as he shook his head. "Yan Liang's primary heavy divisions have not yet entered the killing zone."
Guan Yu inhaled sharply, forcibly suppressing the fierce battle lust surging through his veins, forcing himself to wait with cold patience. Although this localized campaign lacked a singular, officially designated commander-in-chief, Xun You had explicitly entrusted the tactical authority to spring the hidden ambush forces to Yu Jin. This meant that regardless of their personal rank or prestige, every commander in the sector was bound to wait for Yu Jin's direct signal before launching an assault.
Yan Liang Enters the Trap
While Wen Chou's vanguard infantry continued to tear themselves apart over the scattered bait on both sides of the river, the earth began to vibrate. Yan Liang arrived at the head of the main provincial army. The warlord's jaw dropped in absolute, stunned bewilderment as he beheld the sight of his own frontline troops engaged in a chaotic, bloody civil brawl right along the river bank.
"What is the meaning of this madness?" Yan Liang roared, instantly dispatching a detail of his personal bodyguards to ascertain the cause of the disruption.
A few minutes later, the guards returned, frantically babbling out the details of the abandoned wealth and the total collapse of order.
"Insolent, undisciplined trash!"
Yan Liang's face flushed purple with rage. He immediately ordered his enforcement details to wade into the crowd and restore order by force. But it was completely useless. The conscripts were so entirely consumed by their frenzy that they completely ignored the commands of Yan Liang's marshals.
"Cut them down! Kill them all!" Yan Liang's anxiety was mounting by the second, prompting a desperate, bloodthirsty roar. "Execute anyone blocking the entrance to the bridges!"
Wen Chou and he were closer than biological brothers, bound by a lifetime of shared combat. Right now, his brother was operating deep within enemy territory without infantry support; how dare these ungrateful, greedy wretches choke the crossing and jeopardize his survival? What if his dearest brother was facing an overwhelming force on the other side?
With Yan Liang's explicit execution order issued, his iron-clad supervisory squads drew their heavy broadswords, wading into the cluster of soldiers by the bridgeheads and systematically hacking off heads and limbs without mercy.
"Wenze, look there. Do we launch now?" Guan Yu pressed once more, his eyes locked onto the carnage.
"Wait just a moment longer," Yu Jin's expression remained perfectly detached, his voice cool and steady. "Since Yan Liang has resorted to executing his own men to clear the path, it confirms he has completely failed to see through our deployment. He still fully intends to drive his main columns across the river to execute a pursuit. Since he is volunteering to enter the pocket, it is mathematically superior to wait until his forces are caught halfway across the crossing before we spring the trap."
Guan Yu listened to the tactical logic, nodding slowly as he forced his focus back into a state of absolute, icy readiness.
Before long, under the terrifying, bloody deterrence of the supervisory blades, the rioting conscripts finally ceased their frantic scrambling, terrified into compliance as they scrambled to clear a wide path toward the bridges.
"Advance! Cross the river at the double!" Yan Liang wasted no more time. He issued a sweeping command, driving his primary, heavy divisions onto the pontoon spans.
"One thousand... two thousand... three thousand..."
Yu Jin stood silent on the ridge, his eyes cold as he calculated the precise volume of Yan Liang's army committing to the wooden structures. The moment approximately five to six thousand heavy troops had successfully cleared the spans and established a presence on the eastern bank, he raised his hand, his fingers snapping taut.
"Release the whistling arrows!"