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On the walls of Pingyang City, Jia Qu, who was already almost completely exhausted, watched the scene below and suddenly burst into loud laughter. He slapped the parapet, a mixture of yellow mud and blood, laughing until tears and snot streamed down his face. After a hearty, uninhibited laugh, he slowly straightened his filthy, shapeless outer robe, smoothed his disheveled hair, and then leisurely gave orders, handing over the defense of the city walls to a platoon commander. He descended from the battlements with his personal guards and headed into the city.
Fei Qian, being in the thick of the situation, naturally couldn't see as clearly as Jia Qu. Earlier, when Ma Yue had charged the White Wave camp for the second time, Jia Qu had already begun to suspect something. Now, seeing the current state of affairs, he was even more convinced that there must be some mutual agreement between the Xiongnu and Lord Fei.
In Jia Qu's eyes, the Xiongnu's current behavior was purely a form of testing. And what was the simplest way to deal with a test?
Ignore it.
Therefore, when Jia Qu saw that Fei Qian's formation hadn't changed, he understood and laughed heartily, knowing this battle was already over. On this battlefield, the two most powerful groups had joined forces. What couldn't they handle?
Jia Qu returned to his tent set up within the dilapidated county office in Pingyang City. He ordered his guards to fetch some water and food. But when the guards returned with the items, they found Jia Qu had already slumped over inside the tent, fast asleep.
Completely relaxed, Jia Qu slept soundly. Even the vibrations caused by the three thousand-plus Xiongnu warhorses couldn't affect him in the slightest. But for Yang Feng, for the White Wave Army, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
When the Xiongnu cavalry approached to about three hundred paces from Fei Qian's formation, they all turned like a hook, shifting from facing Fei Qian to squarely facing the White Wave camp. Controlling their speed, they advanced shoulder-to-shoulder with Fei Qian's army...
A minor White Wave commander, trembling, retreated two steps but was grabbed by Yang Feng and forcefully shoved forward.
Yang Feng drew his sword, brandishing it as he roared furiously, "Run?! Can you outrun four legs?! Huh?! Anyone who dares retreat will face military justice!"
After shouting, Yang Feng casually cut down a soldier who had retreated a bit too far. He then raised the blood-drenched longsword, forcing the others towards the camp walls for defense.
"Beat the drums! Beat the drums! Anyone who retreats faces military justice! Just hold the line, and we can win!" Yang Feng shouted while herding all the nearby minor commanders and "superior envoys" towards the camp walls, himself gradually moving backward.
On the battlefield, ox horns were mostly used by the Hu people, and Bingzhou veterans also used them to convey signals. But the vast majority still relied on gongs and drums to confirm combat directives.
Advance to the drum; retreat to the gong.
This was the most basic requirement. Even the poorly trained White Wave Army understood the meaning of drums and gongs. Thus, amidst the thunderous drumbeats, White Wave soldiers crowded near the camp walls, mustering their courage, preparing to engage.
Yang Feng stood before his large tent. He called over two personal guards, had them stand at the tent entrance, then raised his longsword and shouted loudly, "Only by fighting with your life can you keep your life! I stand right here; I will never retreat! Military law enforcers, step forward! Anyone causing chaos in the ranks—kill!"
Yang Feng's resolute combat orders somewhat reassured those below. After all, the commander is the army's courage. Combined with the military law enforcers standing behind them, they had no choice but to steel themselves, waiting for the moment of engagement to arrive...
Fei Qian's sword-and-shield troops advanced until they were about fifty paces from the White Wave camp before halting and holding their ground. Archers threaded forward and, under the protection of the shield-bearers, began unleashing volleys of arrows at the White Wave camp, including fire arrows, attempting to ignite items within.
The White Wave Army itself had few archers, and they were very poorly supplied with arrows. After several days of fighting, their arrows were nearly exhausted. They couldn't mount any effective counter-attack against Fei Qian's soldiers. They could only huddle behind the camp walls, desperately trying to dodge.
Only a small fraction of the arcing arrows were blocked by the crude camp structures; the vast majority sailed over the simple walls. The White Wave soldiers had very few shields and armor. Instantly, under the rain of arrows, cries of agony filled the air, with heavy casualties.
Moreover, the items ignited by fire arrows within the camp were difficult to extinguish under the arrow barrage. They could only be left to burn...
Fortunately, Fei Qian's soldiers didn't have an endless supply of arrows either. While the archers were suppressing, some spearmen took the opportunity to clear away obstacles in front of the camp—removing some, sweeping others aside—opening up a large area for the assault.
At a signal, three hundred spearmen from the vanguard charged towards the camp even before the arrow volleys ceased. Their task was simple: breach the camp gates, open a gap for the follow-up troops.
Yu Fuluo glanced sideways at the attacking state of Fei Qian's troops, twisted his neck, and said to Huchuquan, "Let's go too. Let's see who breaks into the camp first!"
Huchuquan laughed heartily, spurred his horse forward, and shouted loudly, "By the Eternal Sky! It will certainly be we, the sons of Chinu! Men, prepare the lassos!"
Immediately, a squadron of Hu cavalry charged out from the main formation. Without needing further orders, they launched into the Hu people's most skilled camp-assault tactic: using arrows for suppression, then using lassos to pull down the wooden walls of the camp...
The White Wave camp was originally constructed crudely. Under the pulling force of the Xiongnu horses' lassos, wooden posts soon began to tilt. It wouldn't hold much longer!
A minor commander rushed from the front lines to the area before Yang Feng's large tent. Outside the tent, he kowtowed in panic, asking how to handle the situation. Yang Feng immediately ordered all remaining forces to reinforce the northern line of the camp. He also had them move the previously constructed chevaux de frise and other barriers to block the gaps torn open by the Hu people...
As for defending against Pingyang or anything else, Yang Feng could no longer afford to care.
Unfortunately, Yang Feng's efforts were clearly in vain...
Under the simultaneous assault from Yu Fuluo and Fei Qian's directions, the White Wave Army simply couldn't hold. Seeing the formation about to collapse, that same minor commander scrambled and crawled back to Yang Feng's large tent in the center of the camp. Wailing, he cried out, "Commander! Commander! We can't hold anymore! Truly can't hold! What do we do? What should we do?!"
Inside the large tent, it was deathly quiet, not a sound.
"Commander Yang!"
The minor commander lunged forward, violently shoving aside Yang Feng's two personal guards stationed outside the tent. He charged inside and immediately stood frozen. He saw that the rear of the tent had been cut open with a large gash at some point. The tent was completely empty, only the slit canvas fluttering slightly in the wind...