Jian Yong practically dragged Liu Bei through the gates of Shanggui by his sleeve.
The man moved like he had just spotted his long-lost brother at the market and was terrified someone else might snatch him first.
Pang De stood there completely thrown. He had been in Shanggui for months now. He knew Jian Yong. The guy was the definition of smooth. Walked like he was floating, talked like he was reciting poetry, made everyone around him feel slightly underdressed just by existing.
And the man had zero fear. Absolute zero.
Pang De still remembered their first meeting. Ma Chao had been in one of his very bad moods, the kind where he looked at you like he was calculating how many pieces your body would split into if he poked you with a spear. He had pressed a blade right up against Jian Yong's throat, close enough that a sneeze would have been fatal.
Most men would have begged. Some would have fainted. A few would have started negotiating for their lives in tears.
Jian Yong? The man did not even blink.
He just looked at Ma Chao, let out a long bored sigh like he was disappointed in a particularly bad meal, and said, "I can see you are determined to die young. It is a shame, really. You had potential."
And then he had the audacity to yawn.
Ma Chao just stood there, sword in hand, clearly not sure whether to kill him or ask for life advice.
The sword came down. Jian Yong walked away unharmed. And Ma Chao spent the rest of the day looking slightly confused about what just happened.
So yeah. Unshakable. Unflappable. A man carved from ice and arrogance.
Except for one thing.
Pang De remembered it clearly. Late last year, an envoy from Cao Cao's camp showed up at Shanggui. Nothing special. Just some official in fancy robes with a fancy scroll and fancy words. Pang De could not even remember the guy's face anymore.
But Jian Yong took one look at him and froze.
Not the dramatic kind of freeze. Not the "oh no I am terrified" kind. Just a small pause. A flicker of something in his eyes. Like a man who had just remembered he had left a pot of soup on the stove and had no idea if his house was still standing.
His smile slipped. His jokes died. His usual smoothness turned into this weird tense quiet that made everyone in the room uncomfortable.
Nobody asked what was wrong. Nobody wanted to.
And somehow, without anyone giving an order, Ma Chao's full cavalry launched a midnight raid against the enemy camp that very night. Absolutely no strategic reason for it. No planning. No warning. Just a bunch of horsemen deciding that someone tonight needed to get a beating.
It was stupid. It was reckless. It was exactly the kind of thing that should have ended in disaster.
It worked perfectly.
Tents burned. Supplies scattered. Enemy soldiers ran around screaming in their underwear. The whole thing was so absurdly successful that even Ma Chao looked confused about what just happened.
To this day, nobody knew what was so special about that envoy from the Sima clan. Pang De had asked Jian Yong once. Master Jian just smiled that mysterious smile of his and said, "Some things are better left unexplained."
Pang De never asked again.
But watching Jian Yong drag Liu Bei through the gates today, Pang De had a sinking feeling that whatever rattled the ice man this time was probably going to become everyone else's problem by nightfall.
Lost in thought, Pang De barely noticed the time slipping away. Before he could finish his walk down memory lane, Jian Yong was already spinning toward him with a grin so wide it looked ready to split his face right open.
"I have not laid eyes upon my Lord in such a painfully long time," Jian Yong announced, his voice bouncing off the stone walls like a happy drunk at a wedding feast. "I simply could not hold back the joy in my heart! My Lord, let me introduce you to the finest warrior all the lands of Nan'an have to offer!"
Liu Bei raised a hand and gently motioned to pause the introduction. He took one slow, deliberate step forward. His sharp eyes looked Pang De up and down the way a horse trader sizes up a prize stallion he means to buy.
That gaze felt heavy enough to press a man into the ground. Since Pang De still had absolutely no clue where this legendary Imperial Uncle stood or what he really thought of him, a sharp jolt of tension shot straight up his spine. Without even realizing it, the big warrior straightened his back and stood at rigid attention. Shoulders squared, chin held high, the whole proper military package.
"Why do you even need to introduce him, Xianhe?" Liu Bei laughed. His voice was rich and carried absolute certainty. "If my eyes do not play tricks on me, the man standing before me must be the Divine General of Nan'an. This can be no one else but Pang De, who goes by the courtesy name Lingming!"
Now here is a fun little detail. Whenever Liu Bei spent time reading those strange and fragmented historical records from the Tang Dynasty yet to come, he kept seeing the phrase Divine General pop up with ridiculous frequency. It sounded impressive as hell. So Liu Bei felt exactly zero shame in taking the term for himself and using it right here. Finders keepers.
Hearing such outrageously high praise, Jian Yong simply lifted one eyebrow in amusement. That was classic Jian Yong. Nothing ever really rattled that man.
Pang De, on the other hand, felt like someone had just punched him square in the chest. A rush of feeling hit him all at once. Pure delight tangled up with a sudden sense of being unworthy. The ancient text I Ching said the word divine described things that existed in the unfathomable space between yin and yang. To have such a title placed upon him by a man of Liu Bei's stature? That went far beyond ordinary honor. This was the kind of honor men wrote songs about. The kind your grandchildren would brag about to their own grandchildren.
Liu Bei saw the wave of emotion stirring in the warrior's eyes.
Before Pang De could stammer out all the usual polite denials about how he was not worthy and the praise was too much and it was really nothing at all, Liu Bei waved his hand and cut the protest short before it could even get started.
"The state of our nation is broken and chaotic," Liu Bei said.
His tone shifted and grew heavier and more solemn. "Yet for all the fighting and bloodshed inside our borders, we have not suffered ruinous invasions from the foreign tribes beyond our frontiers. Do you know why? Our people sleep safe from that nightmare for one reason only. Generals like you, Lingming. You did the bloody work that no one else wanted. You faced the barbarians and kept them at bay so the rest of us could breathe easier. You did what had to be done. And you did it without asking for praise or parades."
That single statement hit Pang De harder than a fist to the chest. It was the truest and highest recognition he had ever received.
Every freezing night spent in the saddle, every brutal campaign dragged through mud and rain, every comrade buried in an unmarked grave along the frontier. All of it suddenly mattered. The hardened warrior felt heat rush into his cheeks. He lifted his chin anyway, because his stubborn sense of honor demanded he set things straight.
"The rebellions of the Qiang people were put down not by my hand alone, my Lord," Pang De spoke with heavy sincerity. "We relied on the martial might of Ma Mengqi to break their spirit and turn the tide."
Liu Bei nodded. His warm smile never wavered. "Is there anyone alive who does not know Ma Mengqi's heart belongs entirely to the safety of the Yong and Liang provinces? That man bleeds for this land."
He took another step closer. His eyes shone with a kind of quiet pride that only another soldier could truly understand. "He suffered a terrible defeat at the gates of Tong Pass. Most men would have crawled into a hole and never shown their face again. But Ma Chao? He does not know the meaning of fear. Even now, at this very moment, he stands locked in a bitter struggle against Cao Cao's armies at Jieting. He risks everything to cut off their supply lines through the Longyou mountains. I have marched all this way for one reason only. I have come to reinforce Ma Mengqi."
Just moments earlier, Jian Yong had given Liu Bei a quick but thorough briefing on the situation across Yongzhou and Liangzhou provinces. The news had let Liu Bei finally breathe out a long and relieved sigh.
The fact that Cao Cao's armies were still stuck and struggling along the mountain roads of Longyou was nothing short of a gift wrapped in silk. Liu Bei's strategic mind spotted a rare and fleeting chance to break the deadlock entirely.
He had brought ten thousand fresh troops with him. On this mountain battlefield where every narrow pass and steep valley made one soldier worth ten in open ground, ten thousand men was far more than simple reinforcement. It was a sledgehammer. An overwhelming force strong enough to decide the outcome of this entire war.
Liu Bei could tell Pang De was a man of action who grew restless standing still and making speeches. So he chose to speak plainly instead. He stepped right up and took both of Pang De's rough and calloused hands in his own. No hesitation. No cold distance between ruler and subject. Just two soldiers talking as men who understood what it meant to fight.
"I have heard many tales, Lingming," Liu Bei said, his eyes sparkling with the kind of excitement most men reserved for fine wine or rare treasures. "They say you possess an almost legendary gift for judging the quality of warhorses."
Pang De stood there, still processing the fact that the Imperial Uncle held his hands like they were old friends. A warm and comfortable feeling spread through his chest. He was no fool. He heard the respect and the offer hidden beneath those simple words. Liu Bei was not just making small talk about horses. He was offering him a place. A purpose. A home.
Pang De gave a sharp and respectful nod. "If my Lord seeks a true steed from the grasslands of Liangzhou to carry you into battle, I would count it the greatest honor to choose one for you myself."
Liu Bei threw his head back and laughed, loud and hearty. The sound bounced off the courtyard walls. "Lingming, you truly understand me! Since neither of us has any urgent business keeping us here, why should we wait any longer? Let us go at once! There is no sense standing around talking when there are fine horses waiting to be inspected!"
He let go of Pang De's hands and gestured toward the stables with all the enthusiasm of a child heading toward a festival. "By the time we have found the perfect warhorse for me, my soldiers will have rested and recovered their strength. Then we march straight for Linwei! We will break this siege and pull Mengqi out of the fire."
That kind of swift and decisive leadership earned every bit of Pang De's respect. He wasted no time on extra bows or flowery words. He turned on his heel and took the lead, guiding his new lord toward the stables with the easy confidence of a man who had spent more of his life around horses than around other people.
Jian Yong stood quietly in the shade of the roof eaves and watched them walk away together. Only minutes ago, these two men had been strangers kept apart by politics, distance, and old grudges. Now they walked side by side like brothers going off to war. Jian Yong shook his head and chuckled softly to himself.
He had seen this happen many times before. It was Liu Bei's greatest gift. His secret strength. He could make you feel like the most important person in the whole world within minutes of meeting you. And the truly amazing thing was, he meant every word of it.
Jian Yong had been separated from Liu Bei for nearly a whole year. That gave him a rare chance to see how much his lord had grown and changed. It was like watching a mighty tree grow tall and strong right before his eyes.
Once, right after the great battle at Red Cliffs, Jian Yong had returned from a long journey covered in dust and exhaustion. The man who greeted him back then was a warlord bowed under the weight of heavy hopes that always seemed just out of reach. Liu Bei had been grateful for every scrap of land he held, every borrowed soldier, every fragile alliance held together by luck and faith.
Then last year, when Yizhou had been brought under control, Jian Yong had seen his lord standing in the great hall of Chengdu. Even then, he had begun to carry himself with the quiet majesty of a true ruler. No longer just a fugitive who always got beaten wherever he went.
But now? Watching Liu Bei walk away, talking eagerly about horse bloodlines and cavalry tactics? Jian Yong saw something else entirely. A man brimming with life and purpose and unstoppable drive. This was not the desperate refugee who once fled Xinwei. This was not the newly minted ruler still finding his footing in Chengdu. This was a great leader who held the rich lands of Jingzhou and Yizhou firmly in hand. Who stood strong in the mountain pass of Hanzhong and looked north toward the very heart of the empire with hunger in his eyes.
Jian Yong stood watching the empty courtyard for a while longer, lost in his own thoughts. Then he shook his head and cleared his mind. Enough remembering. There was work to be done. He turned and walked back inside toward the busy administrative offices to face the endless stacks of documents that kept the whole city running.
That mountain of paperwork was exactly why Ma Chao depended so heavily on Jian Yong. He was a lifesaver. A genius at organization wrapped in the robes of a diplomat.
Put them on a battlefield and ask them about formations or ambush tactics or how to position cavalry? Ma Chao and his veteran soldiers from Yongzhou and Liangzhou feared nothing under heaven. They could do all that in their sleep.
But the moment the talk turned to taxes and grain stores and managing city affairs? Ma Chao and his generals would just stand there staring blankly at the walls like they were asking what is the meaning of life.
That total lack of skill when it came to running cities was exactly why Ma Chao had volunteered for the dangerous duty at Jieting. He would rather face spears and arrows than another stack of reports and forms. At least you could fight back against an enemy soldier.
The plain truth was that the city of Shanggui served as the critical supply hub for the army fighting to hold Linwei. Every single day brought endless amounts of work that wore a man down just thinking about it. Every single day, Ma Chao had watched Jian Yong run himself ragged keeping everything organized while he stood by unable to help in any useful way. The guilt of letting Jian Yong carry all that burden alone had been eating at him for weeks.
And now that their lord had arrived with his army, the work was about to multiply tenfold. Ten thousand extra soldiers meant ten thousand extra mouths to feed. Armor to repair. Weapons to replace. Boots to wear out. Countless small details someone had to arrange and manage. Shanggui had to supply it all. And in practice, that meant Jian Yong had to do it all.
So naturally, the heavy burden of organizing supplies and moving stock fell right back onto Jian Yong's shoulders. Again. As it always did. The man practically carried the entire western campaign on his own back, and somehow he still managed to smile.
But as Jian Yong picked up a scroll paper listing the latest counts of grain in store, a thought struck him.
What if he suggested sending Pang De along to join Liu Bei's main force instead of keeping him here?
When Ma Chao marched off to hold the line at Jieting, he had made a careful choice. He knew Shanggui was the last and most important stronghold along the entire Longyou road. It could not fall. Not for any reason. So after weighing every risk, Ma Chao had left his best general, Pang De, behind to help Jian Yong guard the city.
But everything had just changed. The whole situation looked different now.
With Liu Bei and ten thousand fresh soldiers arriving, the balance of power had shifted completely. They were no longer just trying to hold on and survive. They could actively find Cao Cao's dogs and try to beat them.
Shanggui was still important. Vital. No question about it. But throwing their full strength forward to win a quick and decisive victory suddenly mattered more than playing it safe back here. Sometimes the best way to defend everything was to hit the enemy hard and fast.
Besides, Jian Yong knew Pang De well enough to guess the man was itching to get back into the fight. He had been stuck inside the city far too long. A tiger kept in a cage is still a tiger, but it is also a very unhappy tiger.
As he thought about all this, his mind drifted toward Zhang Fei. A knot of worry tightened in his chest. He was genuinely concerned.
After all, Linwei was just a small county seat. It was nothing like the mighty fortress at Jiangling. Jiangling could hold out against any army and still have time to eat lunch. Linwei was little more than a small town with thin walls.
Right now, that small town was surrounded by an enemy army three times larger than the defenders. With Zhang Fei leading the defense, the city probably would not fall so easily. Everyone knew Zhang Fei was a terror on the battlefield.
But the fighting would be fierce and the losses would be heavy. Besieging an enemy or being besieged was always ugly work. Defending weak walls against a strong army was even uglier. Jian Yong closed his eyes for a moment and prayed with all his heart that the casualties would be kept as light as possible.
---
As the cold days of the second lunar month dragged on, winter slowly and painfully loosened its grip to make way for spring. Along with that slight softening of the weather came the steadily mounting fury of the bloody siege raging beyond Linwei's walls.
Calling what stood around Linwei a "defensive wall" was being far too generous. That barrier barely stood taller than a grown man. Nothing more than a low ring of packed earth thrown up to mark the edge of this small county seat.
By all reasonable standards, the best time to march and fight in this region was high summer or deep autumn. When the rains came and the Wei River rose in flood, the wide waters became Linwei's strongest shield all on their own.
On top of that, the nomadic Qiang and Hu tribes spent every winter fighting just to stay alive through the cold. Asking them to gather their strength and ride out to raid the lands of Three Qin in the bitterest part of the year was asking for something impossible.
That was why strong passes and well-guarded chokepoints like Jieting and Shanggui had always been trusted far more than Linwei ever was.
No one could have foreseen that Cao Cao's main army would find itself forced to march and fight right in the middle of the second lunar month. In the depths of the dry and freezing season.
With the river shrunk down to a trickle and offering no protection at all, that pitiful ring of dirt around Linwei suddenly became the most important line of defense in the entire campaign.
Zhang Fei strode with heavy steps as he stormed into the courtyard of the Linwei county office.
The place was barely recognizable. Every solid timber, every spare brick, and every decent stone had been torn down and hauled away to reinforce that pitiful dirt wall surrounding the city.
With whatever scraps remained, Pang Tong had personally designed and built a small, cramped bunker with thick walls to serve as their temporary command post.
Inside, a scarred wooden table was covered in Pang Tong's messy ink-stained sketches and battle plans. Zhang Fei's iron helmet sat on the corner beside a map of the Longyou roads. That map had been drawn on and corrected so many times it was almost impossible to read.
But Pang Tong was not standing at the table. He was squatting in the dirt just outside the doorway.
Sitting on the wooden threshold across from him was Zhang Fei. The general had taken off his helmet and loosened the plates around his joints so his aching muscles could breathe. He held a steaming ceramic bowl of thick noodle soup with both hands and ate like a wolf that had not seen food in three days.
Zhang Fei tilted his head back and swallowed a mouthful of rich salty broth. As he set the empty bowl down, he noticed the tight, troubled look on Pang Tong's face.
"Is something weighing on you, Shiyuan?" Zhang Fei asked, wiping his mouth with the back of a rough, calloused hand.
Normally Zhang Fei would never have bothered walking all the way back here. He preferred to eat his plain rations right up on the wall while keeping a wary eye on Cao Cao's camp.
But today was different. A sudden wave of worry about his second brother Guan Yu had settled in his chest. So he had come over to sit with the strategist and listen while he ate.
Even stuck up here in the freezing mountains, cut off from the world, Pang Tong's mind could piece together the whole picture of what was happening far away in Jingzhou. He explained the grand situation so clearly and simply that Zhang Fei found himself feeling hopeful. The relief had been so great that he had immediately asked for a second bowl of soup.
Pang Tong had a frighteningly accurate grasp of how people really thought and what truly drove them. According to his reasoning, the lords of Jiangdong had absolutely no reason to join in a hard, thankless campaign to capture Wancheng. Sun Quan was too greedy. Jiangdong's real goal would be to seize the rich and prosperous commanderies south of the Yangtze.
Pushing their lines all the way to the Han River near Xiangyang and Fancheng was the absolute limit of what Jiangdong could actually supply and sustain.
And since that giant crossbow ship was anchored near Xiangyang, there was no logical reason for Jiangdong to sail that way. They would only be sailing straight into a trap. Their only sensible move was to hold the Yangtze, blockade Jiangling, and throw all their strength into taking the south.
If that was how things happened, then Guan Yu and Xu Shu holding their ground at Wancheng only had to fight Cao Cao's army. They would not face both enemies at once.
In a fair fight between two sides, if Cao Cao could not win quickly, that shaky, mistrustful alliance between him and Sun Quan would fall apart. Suspicion would eat away at them until their combined strength dissolved into nothing.
Pang Tong's explanation had settled Zhang Fei's anxious heart. But just as he set down his bowl and got ready to head back to the fighting, he caught that strange, troubled look in Pang Tong's eyes. Zhang Fei preferred plain words over guessing games, so he asked straight out.
Pang Tong hesitated. He shifted his weight in the dirt before speaking.
"I heard an interesting story," Pang Tong said carefully, keeping his voice low. "They say yesterday you came very close to cutting Xiahou Yuan down right there beneath the wall."
At that name, Zhang Fei's face twisted with sharp regret.
"Yesterday that fool Xiahou Yuan lost his mind," Zhang Fei grumbled. "He led his men charging straight up to our wall. I saw my chance. I really sure sent him to meet his ancestor. I swear to heaven my spear was already aimed straight for his throat."
Zhang Fei struck his own thigh hard with a fist. "Damn. But I underestimated how far his guards would go to keep him safe. Those men did not flinch. They threw themselves right onto my spear. They became living shields to block the strike. Because of them, my spear only grazed his waist. And they dragged him away before I could finish the job."
Zhang Fei looked angry enough to bite through iron. "If I had killed him yesterday, his whole army would have fallen apart. We might already be marching toward the Guanzhong plains today."
Watching the plain regret written all over Zhang Fei's face, Pang Tong wondered how to say what he needed to say. He chose his words with great care.
"About this Xiahou Yuan, Yide," Pang Tong asked softly. "Is there no way to catch him alive instead of killing him?"
Zhang Fei shook his head.
"Too many men stand between us when the fighting is at its worst," Zhang Fei said plainly. "He is surrounded by his most loyal guards. If I held back my strength and tried to take him alive in the middle of battle, I would be the one lying dead, meeting my ancestors, Shiyuan."
But Zhang Fei was no fool. He looked at Pang Tong's face and understood exactly what the man was worried about. He laughed loud and deep.
"Let me guess, Shiyuan," Zhang Fei said with a knowing glint in his eye. "You are sitting there worrying that if Huang Zhong shot Xiahou Yuan down in battle, it will cause trouble between me and the old man. Is that it?"
Pang Tong waved his hands quickly, trying to brush the thought aside. He looked down at the dirt.
"I only meant..." Pang Tong said quietly. "Given this difficult and unfortunate family connection, there may be no way to satisfy everyone."
Zhang Fei shook his head slowly. He leaned down and began refastening his armor plates, getting ready to return to the wall.
Seeing him prepare to leave, Pang Tong stood up, reached for the helmet on the table, and held it out respectfully with both hands.
Zhang Fei stopped. For a moment all his fierceness faded. He let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Shiyuan," Zhang Fei said, his voice quiet and serious. "In battle, the line between life and death is decided in a single heartbeat. When swords and spears are flying, there is no time to find a solution that hurts no one."
He reached out and took the cold iron helmet from Pang Tong's hands.
"I know only one thing for certain," Zhang Fei said. His eyes were hard and bright with resolve. "If I kill Xiahou Yuan, their whole army breaks. And you can be sure that same Xiahou Yuan on the other side of that wall is trying to kill me to take this city."
He pulled the helmet over his head and fastened the straps tight beneath his jaw. His voice came out muffled and deep through the face guard.
"If Xiahou Yuan dies in this fight," Zhang Fei said slowly, "my wife may cry for him. She may grieve him for a month."
"But if I hold back my hand out of family feeling and lose this fight..." Zhang Fei said grimly. "Then it will not be just one woman crying. It will be thousands upon thousands of families across the whole land crying for their lost ones."
He turned on his feet and marched away. Heavy boots struck the ground as he walked back toward the roar of battle.
Pang Tong stood alone in the doorway, watching him go.
He had meant to offer wise counsel. Instead, the rough warrior had taught him the hardest truth of all.
Pang Tong looked down at his hands. His palms were stained with dark fresh blood. It must have rubbed off when he handed Zhang Fei the helmet.
He wiped the blood away on his robes. As the red stain faded into the cloth, he understood clearly. That blood might belong to an enemy soldier. Or it might belong to one of their own.
It did not matter. Every man who fought had a family. Every soldier had someone waiting for him to come home.
Zhang Fei was right. A few nobles crying in fine houses counted as nothing compared to the graves of thousands upon thousands of ordinary folk.
The siege of Linwei grew harder and more desperate with every passing day. But Zhang Fei had grown used to the fighting.
Ever since Xiahou Yuan had surrounded the city, fierce attacks against the walls came again and again. The fighting never really stopped.
It was exhausting work. But whenever his body cried out for rest, Zhang Fei remembered how his brother and Xu Shu had held the city of Fancheng under even worse conditions. If they could endure it, then this was nothing to him.
And the enemy's schedule was strangely regular. The sun would rise and the drums would beat and the fighting would begin. The sun would set behind the mountains and horns would blow and the attackers would turn and march back to camp.
It was a routine so dependable that both sides could get a full night's sleep.
Watching this pattern repeat day after day, Zhang Fei began to understand what was really happening.
This whole siege was never meant to be a fight to the finish. Xiahou Yuan's real purpose was simply to keep Liu Bei's army pinned down here in the mountains.
To fight too hard and risk everything on one battle would lose the whole purpose.
Think about it. If Xiahou Yuan won too easily, Liu Bei might panic, pull back entirely, and march his main strength east to save Jingzhou. That was the last thing Cao Cao wanted.
And if Xiahou Yuan lost badly, his broken army would be swept away and the whole north would be laid open to Liu Bei.
So this steady, measured fighting suited Xiahou Yuan perfectly. It kept his own army safe and served his lord's purpose.
But watching the enemy so carefully, Zhang Fei noticed something else. A weakness he could turn to his advantage.
The Cao army was running desperately short of firewood.
It was technically the second month and spring was drawing near. But up here in these mountains, the nights remained bitterly cold.
Inside Linwei, the cold was hardly a problem. Thanks to Pang Tong's careful planning, their storehouses were stacked high with blocks of pressed coal. Those black bricks burned long and gave off fierce heat. A few pieces in an iron brazier kept a room warm through the longest night.
But the army camped outside still relied on burning charcoal.
Charcoal was expensive even in times of peace. Now drag an army of thousands into a desolate mountain pass where every supply cart traveled hundreds of miles over rough roads. The cost of charcoal must be astronomical.
Thinking all of this through, a cruel, clever plan took shape in Zhang Fei's mind.
He licked his lips. He knew exactly how to break them.
---
While Zhang Fei smiled thinking of the ruin he meant to bring upon the enemy outside Linwei, far away in the valleys of Jieting, Ma Chao was burning with frustration.
He drove his spurs into his horse and charged. Low over the saddle, he swung his great lance so fast the air whistled. The shaft struck the enemy general hard enough to rattle his teeth and nearly knocked him from the saddle.
"TURN AROUND AND FIGHT, YOU COWARD!" Ma Chao roared, blood singing in his veins. "STAND YOUR GROUND LIKE A MAN, YOU RAT-FACED BASTARD!"
He wheeled his horse, ready to strike again. But the enemy commander wanted no part of it. Without a shred of pride, he turned and fled straight back toward his foot soldiers.
Ma Chao reined in hard, his horse dancing sideways with frustration. He jabbed his spear toward the retreating back and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"WHERE ARE YOU RUNNING, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A GENERAL?! YOUR MOTHER RAISED A COWARD! YOUR FATHER MUST BE ASHAMED TO CLAIM YOU AS HIS SON!"
The fleeing commander didn't even look back. Just kept riding.
"COWARD! COWARD! YOU'RE NOT WORTH THE ARMOR ON YOUR BACK! I'VE SEEN BRAVER DOGS IN THE STREETS OF CHENGDU!"
Ma Chao spurred forward a few more paces, exposing himself to the enemy lines, and kept screaming.
"IS THERE NOT ONE MAN AMONG YOU ALL WHO DARES STAND AND FIGHT?! NOT ONE?! YOUR MOTHERS WERE GOATS AND YOUR FATHERS WERE RATS! THAT'S THE ONLY EXPLANATION FOR WHY YOU'RE ALL SO AFRAID TO DIE LIKE MEN!"
The only answer came in the form of a cloud of arrows hissing through the air. One whistled past his ear close enough to part his hair.
Ma Chao ducked, spat a curse, and yanked his horse around.
"FINE! HIDE BEHIND YOUR ARROWS LIKE THE COWARDS YOU ARE! BUT I'LL FIND YOU! I'LL FIND ALL OF YOU AND WHEN I DO, I'LL—"
Another arrow buzzed past. He dug his heels in and galloped back toward safety.
Once safely out of arrow range, he reined in, twisted in his saddle, and hurled one last insult at the enemy camp.
"AND YOUR ANCESTORS WERE PROBABLY PIG FARMERS WHO COULDN'T EVEN RAISE A PROPER PIG!"
He spat into the dirt and rode through his own gates.
A young officer hurried forward to take his horse's reins. Ma Chao dismounted hard, boots hitting the dirt with a thud. All the fire in his eyes vanished. In its place came cold, sharp calculation.
He turned to the young officer, his voice calm and low.
"Bozhan. Pick ten of our best riders. Send them far south to scout. I want to know what lies beyond those hills."
The officer saluted and turned to leave.
"Wait." Ma Chao grabbed his arm. His eyes narrowed toward the enemy camp. "That commander Zhang He ran away too easily today. It does not feel right."
He released the officer's arm and stared hard at the distant lines.
"I am certain that bastard is leading us into a trap. And when I find him, I'm going to shove his own spear up his cowardly ass."