Nightfall

Under the leadership of Prince Long Qing, cavalries from the Left King’s Palace and the Coalition Army of countries such as Yan, Song and Qi, crossed Tang’s border and drove straight in. They did not encounter any resistance for the first few days.

The Northeast Border Military of the Tang Empire had been destroyed. Although many Tang soldiers were still alive, they strived hard every day under the pursuit of the Yan army and people. Even if they escaped back to Tang, they would not have any military capability.

The Coalition Army invading Tang, especially the grassland cavalries from the Wilderness, went rampant and committed all sorts of crimes. With gold and silver in their arms and excited expressions on their faces, they urged their mounts to run back and forth on the state highway.

Looking at the scene down the hill, Long Qing frowned slightly. Coldly, he said, “Get the army in order. Don’t waste time in this hinterland. We have to arrive in Chang’an as soon as possible.”

While his subordinate left with his order, some of the generals held different views.

Tang’s reputation as a nation undefeated in the last millennium left eternal fear in the hearts of these generals. Although the war was going well at present, they, including the grassland cavalries, had never expected to really break through Chang’an. They thought it would be better to withdraw after plundering to their hearts’ content on Tang’s land, in case the Tang people retaliated.

“Tang is not what it was before. The sister and brother in Chang’an keep making mistakes. Of course, even if they didn’t make mistakes they would not persevere because it’s god’s will to destroy Tang.”

“Tang is under attack from all directions now.” Long Qing said. “There is no army in our way and the city is unprotected. This is a golden chance given by Haotian. We will be cursed if we miss this opportunity.”

A general said, “Even if we manage to reach the gate of Chang’an… it will be useless. We all know Chang’an is impossible to break through. What other option do we have?”

“There is no unbreakable city in this world.”

Long Qing did not make further explanation. Only a few people in the world besides him knew the real plan of the West-Hill Divine Palace. The Golden Palace’s southward move and the invasion of Tang were deceptive tricks, means to weigh down the Tang Army. What the West-Hill Divine Palace really wanted was for Chang’an to be unprotected.

Everything was for the Array Eye Pestle.

The West-Hill Divine Palace had the confidence to get it.

The Tang Army and inhabitants all thought that their city was unbreakable, so the army was sent to other places. The West-Hill Divine Palace got the Array Eye Pestle and broke the God-stunning Array, causing an approaching massacre in Chang’an.

Long Qing lifted the reins lightly and headed down the hill.

The ears of wheat in the farmland hung heavily and vast as a golden ocean in the autumn wind.

It was a beautiful scene.

The farmhouses adjacent were ablaze. As the black smoke gradually rose, faint screams could be heard.

Long Qing thought of the day years ago when he had left Chang’an in silence after failing to make it to the Second floor of the Academy.

On that day, he had seen the beautiful pastoral scenery of Tang. He had seen farmhouses painted in various colors and people living in peace and happiness. He had vowed to come back and one day burn everything to the ground.

He asked the generals to put the army in order only for the sake of the following march, not to show sympathy for the Tangs. In fact, he thought that this image of being burned and slaughtered was truly beautiful.

Long Qing removed his silver mask to show a pleasant smile.

Thousands of Coalition soldiers went rampant on the eastern wilderness of Tang. It was impossible to execute every single order without fail even if the military discipline was the most stringent. Moreover, most of those soldiers were undisciplined grassland cavalries.

When Prince Long Qing’s military order was executed, most of the grassland cavalries assembled and headed west to Chang’an under the guidance of the army flag. But over a thousand cavalries were left behind.

These grassland cavalries had great confidence in their horsemanship and believed that they would catch up quickly with the main troop. So they were not in a hurry to leave; they were anxious to plunder.

They had long known that the Central Plains boasted wealth and the Tangs lived well. However, it was not until they entered Tang that they realized how ridiculous their fantasy about the Central Plains was. The wealth accumulated in an ordinary Tang village actually surpassed that of a medium-sized tribe on the grassland.

The exquisite silks, gold, silver and precious things made them unwilling to leave. Beautiful women with fair skin made them run at the mouth. Several people decided to clean them out.

Dozens of grassland cavalries from the Left King’s Palace rushed into a small village in the mountains, waving the cutlasses in their hands. They gave harsh whistles and laughed madly.

Far away from the state highway, the village was free from the attack of the Coalition Army. Many nearby refugees took the path to hide here. Now the village was crowded with more than a hundred people.

It was comprised mostly of women, children and the elderly. The men had already died in the battle with the grassland cavalries when their village was invaded.

The grassland cavalries gathered all the people and began to loot their property. Given that the village was remote and relatively poor, they did not find much.

They cursed loudly out of dissatisfaction.

The women, children and elderly at the center of the village did not know why they were cursing and just kept their heads down in silence. Only one little girl in the arms of an old woman dared to stare at the grassland cavalries.

The girl was too young to know what exactly was going on, but she knew her home had been burned down and that her daddy had been killed by the smelly bad guys in ragged furs. Her eyes were filled with hatred.

One of the men, who was angry at today’s miniscule harvest, was overcome with anger when he suddenly caught site of the girl’s hateful gaze. He went towards her with a cutlass in hand.

He raised his cutlass.

Several old people from the crowd stood up angrily to stop him.

But the cutlass had fallen.

The girl survived.

Because the cutlass fell on the ground, making a clear crash.

He fell down stiffly with an arrow in one of his eyes.

The arrow’s feather was somewhat messy, unlike the standard arm of the Tang Army.

The grassland cavalries were taken aback. They shouted in their language while quickly mounting their horses. Then they took down the short wooden bows from their shoulders and warily watched the woods behind the village.

An arrow whistled through the air.

It shot out of the forest and hit one of them in the shoulder, blood splattering.

Instead of being startled, they became excited. They shouted and urged their horses to encircle the forest.

Judging from the arrow, they were sure that the archers in the forest were not Tang soldiers, but more probably hunters. Many of their brothers in the tribe had been killed by Tang hunters.

Hunters usually appeared in pairs of two or three people, hardly a match against these fine cavalries.

Yang Erxi hid himself behind a tree, clutching his boxwood bow. His shoulder was against the trunk and his right foot stepped gently on the ground. He looked nervous.

Compared to how he had looked when he left home, he was thinner and darker. He had a mess of a beard and chapped, bloody dry lips.

The hoofbeat gradually came forward and the grassland cavalry besieged the forest. He appeared nimbly from behind a tree and drew a bow. The arrow was suddenly released, hitting a cavalryman in the waist.

Confirming that there was only one archer hiding in the forest, the three grassland cavalries held their bows and released several arrows. Yang Erxi was forced to hide behind the tree. Other cavalries drew nearer from the rear.

Drumming came from the trunk, pieces of bark spattered. The arrows just barely missed him.

The grassland cavalries were experienced at dealing with Tang hunters. Yang Erxi could not make a counterattack at all. The only thing he could do was watch the enemy circling the forest.

On the brink of death, he showed no fear, except for his rapid breath.

At this moment, as the whistle of arrows sounded densely, a torrential rain of arrows fell from the mountains.

More than twenty grassland cavalries rushing at the forefront were immediately shot down. They fell from their mounts and died in a bloody mess.

The sound of stepping on grass and rubbing trees rang out. Several people rushed out from the depths of the mountains towards the grassland cavalries like cruel beasts of prey.

The grassland cavalries who were still alive cried in shock and anger. They were terrified. They pulled the reins desperately, trying to run away.

If one could understand their language, he would know the word they cried out was “ambush”.

They thought they had been ambushed by the Tang Army.

More than a hundred people rushed out from the forest, some in ordinary cotton jackets, others in silk shirts. Most of them were in farmer’s attire, not the uniforms of the Tang Army.

They were mostly elderly people, with various weapons in hand, such as the pitch-fork Yang Erxi held. Some were armed with hammers, while the majority of them held straight knives.

The sharp straight knife was the Tang Army’s weapon.

Were these people Tang soldiers?

They were not.

But they had been.

They had retired and become businessmen, caravan guards or farmers.

When Tang needed them, they became soldiers of Tang again.

…

…

Yang Erxi smashed a cavalryman to the ground. He stepped forward with his hands turned. His heavy pitch-fork pierced into the cavalryman’s chest after making an arc in the air.

He walked over, kicked the cavalryman’s body, and pulled his pitch-fork up with force. With a poof, several wounds appeared in the cavalryman’s chest.

This set of actions was fluent and skilled. He might have repeated it many times.

He held the pitch-fork and ran to a grassland cavalryman surrounded by his companions. With anger, he vowed to himself to get a cutlass today.

“Leave it to me!” he shouted.

The cavalryman had been cut numerous times. He was covered with blood and had totally lost his wits. He leaned against a tree, waving his cutlass automatically with no ability to resist.

The Tangs understood Yang Erxi when he shouted anxiously. They made way and left the enemy to him.

Yang Erxi ran over to the dying cavalryman. He spat in his palm and smashed with his pitch-fork, as naturally as if doing farm work at home.