"What is happening?!"
The wine cups slammed down onto the tables as the festive atmosphere evaporated into sheer terror. Yuan Shu, his generals, and his advisors rushed out of the grand command tent to investigate the disturbance.
To their horror, the horizon of the front camp was already swallowed by a raging sea of crimson fire.
"By the heavens!" Yan Xiang gasped, his face draining of color. "Sun Wentai has launched a night raid!"
"What?!" Yuan Shu instantly panicked, his hands trembling as he clutched at his silken robes. "This... what do we do? How do we stop them?!"
He had every reason to be terrified. To celebrate his brother's demise, he had summoned every single high-ranking commander from the peripheral sectors to the central army tent. The entire front camp was currently a snake without a head—completely devoid of leadership to coordinate a defense.
Damn it all! Yuan Shu cursed inwardly. Why did Sun Jian choose this exact moment to strike?!
"My Lord!" Yan Xiang urged, seizing his master's arm to snap him out of his daze. "We must dispatch General Ji Ling back to the front lines immediately to rally the shattered vanguard! At the same time, order the remaining generals to fortify the central army's perimeter. As long as our core defenses hold, losing the front lines will only be a minor laceration, not a fatal blow!"
"Yes! Yes, execute the Chief Clerk's counsel at once!" Yuan Shu bellowed frantically.
Ji Ling didn't waste a second. He leapt onto his warhorse and galloped toward the roaring flames while the other commanders scattered to lock down the central camp.
Returning to his tent, Yuan Shu slumped into his seat, any lingering desire for wine completely replaced by a suffocating, anxious dread.
The Clash of Blades
When General Ji Ling breached the perimeter of the front camp, he found total anarchy. Sun Jian's forces were everywhere, cutting down fleeing soldiers in the dark.
"Do not panic! Hold your ground!" Ji Ling thundered, his massive voice cutting through the din of battle. Flanked by his elite personal guards, he raised his weapon high. "Ji Ling is here! Form up on my position!"
Recognizing the voice of their supreme commander, several hundred shattered infantrymen managed to halt their flight, desperately rallying around him to form a makeshift defensive wall.
But before Ji Ling could order a counteroffensive, the smoke parted. Charging directly through the embers came a terrifying rider, his head wrapped in a distinctive, blood-red turban, leading a wedge of elite cavalry straight toward him.
Sun Jian!
Ji Ling's eyes flared with sudden, desperate ambition. He spurred his horse forward to meet the charge. Sun Jian's preference for that red turban was legendary across the realm; there was no mistaking the Tiger of Jiangdong. Ji Ling knew that if he could sever the head of the enemy commander right here, the entire invasion would collapse under its own weight. It was his only chance to reverse the tide.
"What fierce courage!" Sun Jian noted, a grim smile touching his lips as he saw the enemy general charging him instead of fleeing. A flicker of genuine warrior's respect flared within him, and his grip tightened around his ancient, ancestral blade. "Since you possess the spine of a hero, I, Sun Jian, shall grant you a warrior's death!"
Both men preferred to lead from the front, their combat philosophies forged in blood. Ji Ling knew that with his inferior numbers, attempting a slow, organized tactical battle would simply mean a lingering death. His only path to victory lay in the raw, brutal martial prowess of a champion.
Amid the swirling chaos of the burning camp, the crowd parted, creating a vacuum for a rare, deadly duel.
"Die!" Sun Jian roared as their warhorses slammed together. He swung his ancestral blade in a massive, decapitating arc.
Clang!
Ji Ling raised his weapon just in time to parry the blow, but the sheer, monstrous force of the impact left his arms instantly numb. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he deflected the blade outward and countered with a vicious thrust of his own. Sun Jian deftly blocked the strike as their horses brushed past one another, the friction of their armor throwing off sparks.
Ji Ling violently reined in his mount, spinning around for another pass. Sun Jian's martial valor was terrifying, but Ji Ling knew this was his absolute zenith—his one shot at glory. He couldn't afford to back down.
Sun Jian also wheels his horse, studying his opponent with newfound surprise. Yuan Shu is nothing but an incompetent fool, yet he somehow commands a stallion of this caliber?
With a roar, the two clashed a second time. Ji Ling, precisely measuring the distance, thrust his weapon forward first.
Sun Jian didn't flinch. Executing a flawless, acrobatic 'Iron Bridge' maneuver, he threw his entire upper body flat against his horse's back, letting the lethal blade shave the air inches above his chest. The moment his momentum carried him back up, acting purely on lethal warrior instinct, he blindly swung his blade backward in a sweeping arc.
Squelch.
The unmistakable sensation of steel tearing through muscle and bone vibrated up the hilt. Sun Jian rejoiced inwardly and glanced back.
Blood erupted from Ji Ling's shoulder. The general let out a guttural cry of agony, dropped his stance, and fled toward the rear without looking back.
"A pity," Sun Jian muttered, disappointed that the blow hadn't been fatal. He wanted to pursue, but Ji Ling's surrounding infantry immediately surged forward to shield their fallen commander, cutting off the path.
Seeing their seemingly invincible general wounded and in full retreat, the remaining Yuan infantry lost all stomach for a fight. With a collective scream of terror, the defensive line shattered entirely, joining the rout. Sun Jian seized the psychological collapse, leading his cavalry in a merciless, sweeping charge.
The Tactical Retreat
Ji Ling bled all the way back to the central army, his arrival sending a shockwave of panic through Yuan Shu's core forces.
Sun Jian, however, was no fool. Seeing that the vanguard commander had escaped into the depths of the encampment, he didn't blindly pursue into the dark. Instead, he systematically directed his forces to thoroughly purge and plunder the front camp. Veteran commanders like Huang Gai, Cheng Pu, Han Dang, and Xu Kun led their units through the burning tents, turning the sector into a literal slaughterhouse.
With the front camp completely annihilated, Sun Jian attempted to push his momentum into Yuan Shu's central army.
However, because Yuan Shu had gathered all his generals there, the central camp was incredibly organized and structurally impregnable. No matter how aggressively Sun Jian's forces hammered the perimeter, the defensive lines refused to buckle.
"My Lord!" Huang Gai shouted, riding hard up to Sun Jian's side with cupped fists. "The objectives have been achieved, and the enemy core is locked down tight. It is time for our forces to withdraw!"
Sun Jian scanned the fortified lines, nodding decisively. "Signal the retreat!"
He didn't know the exact reason why the central camp was so densely defended, but he knew the golden rule of night raids: timing was everything. The commotion in the front army had been deafening; by his calculations, Yuan Shu's left and right flanking armies would be descending on their position at any moment. For the sake of speed and concealment, he had only brought three thousand elite troops. If they were pinned down and caught in a pincer movement, tonight's magnificent triumph would instantly transform into a catastrophic defeat.
As the Sun army melted back into the shadows of the night, the western bank of the Ying River slowly returned to a heavy, smoldering silence.
Divine Foresight
Across the river, the night air was filled with a completely different sound—the booming, triumphant laughter of victorious soldiers.
"My Lord possesses truly divine foresight!" Huang Gai praised warmly as they marched back toward their home base.
Earlier that day, they had received the intelligence that Zhang Xin had successfully conquered Ji Province. The moment Sun Jian read the report, he recognized a golden, fleeting opportunity to strike Yuan Shu.
The distance between the two opposing camps across the river was minimal. If the news had reached Sun Jian, it meant Yuan Shu would receive it shortly after. Yuan Shu's entire expeditionary force had been mobilized under the political guise of assisting Yuan Shao. Now that Yuan Shao was dead, his political justification had evaporated; he would undoubtedly prepare to retreat.
And a retreating army on the eve of departure is an army that is profoundly negligent.
Sun Jian had pitched the idea to his council, and every commander had agreed that a quick hit-and-run raid was highly viable. Even if it failed to breach the main camp, the minimal forces deployed meant their losses would be negligible. Sun Jian had made the executive decision, hand-picking three thousand elite raiders to personally lead the charge.
The gamble had paid off beautifully. The Yuan camp had been caught completely off guard.
"Tomorrow morning, Yuan Shu will undoubtedly begin a full retreat," Sun Jian laughed heartily, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Our army only needs to shadow them closely. We will harry their flanks and bleed them dry!"
Huang Gai and the others nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
Yan Province had been utterly devastated over the past few years by the brutal anti-Dong Zhuo campaigns and the subsequent, bloody civil wars between Wang Hong, Bridge Mao, Liu Dai, and Sun Jian. Economically, Yan Province was in no better shape than the ruined Ji Province.
Sun Jian knew that completely annihilating Yuan Shu's one-hundred-thousand-strong host was unrealistic. But total annihilation wasn't his target—their massive supply train was.
Yuan Shu brought a mountain of provisions to my doorstep, thinking he could just march into my territory and leave whenever he pleased? Sun Jian thought derisively. Does he think so little of the Tiger of Jiangdong? It would be terribly impolite if he didn't leave those supplies behind.
Filled with camaraderie and high spirits, the vanguard crossed back over the east bank.
A New Conspiracy
Meanwhile, inside the western camp, the air was thick with smoke and fury. Yuan Shu was absolutely livid, pacing around his intact central tent and cursing at the top of his lungs.
"Sun Wentai, that treacherous, ungrateful dog! How dare he launch a knife into my back?!" He slammed his fist onto a table, his face distorted with rage. "During the grand coalition against Dong Zhuo, I was the one who kindly took him under my wing! I supplied his army with grain! I was the one who appointed him as the Governor of Yu Province!"
He spat onto the ground, his chest heaving. "And this is how the bastard repays my magnanimity?! These low-born barbarians from Jiangdong have absolutely no concept of honor or gratitude! They are nothing but feral beasts!"
Standing to the side, Yan Xiang subtly rolled his eyes.
During the campaign against Dong Zhuo, Sun Jian originally wanted to align with Zhang Xin, Yan Xiang recalled bitterly. It was only because Zhang Xin strategically requested a pincer movement that Sun Jian remained stationed in Nanyang to coordinate with us. Furthermore, your self-proclaimed, illegitimate appointment of him as Governor of Yu Province... how could that ever compare to the legitimate, imperially recognized Governorship of Yan Province that Zhang Xin bestowed upon him?
Yuan Shu continued his frantic rant until physical exhaustion finally caught up with him. He collapsed onto his cushioned seat, panting heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Seeing his master finally quiet down, Yan Xiang stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. "My Lord, now that Lord Yuan Shao has perished and our vanguard has suffered a severe psychological defeat, our army's morale is compromised. There is no longer any strategic merit in continuing this campaign. It would be far wiser to execute a tactical retreat to Runan, consolidate our forces, and deliberate on our next move from a position of strength."
"Sun Wentai has humiliated me so thoroughly," Yuan Shu growled, his teeth gnashing. "The fury in my chest is hard to swallow. Chief Clerk, do you possess no brilliant strategy that can help me crush him on the field of battle?"
"My Lord," Yan Xiang persuaded gently, shaking his head. "The Marquis Xuanwei, Zhang Xin, has already secured undisputed mastery over Ji Province. He and Sun Wentai have shared a deep, unbreakable bond for years. If we entangle ourselves in a protracted war with Sun Jian here, it will give Zhang Xin the perfect pretext to march his northern legions south. If that happens, the losses we suffer will be catastrophic."
"Hmph!" Yuan Shu crossed his arms, his expression twisted in bitter resentment, but the reality of the threat was undeniable.
Standing in the shadows of the tent, Guo Tu watched the exchange, his calculating eyes darting between the speakers. Seizing a quiet moment, he silently shuffled over to the side of the room where the bandaged General Ji Ling was resting.
"General..." Guo Tu whispered, leaning in close. He began to quietly interrogate the wounded commander, picking apart every detail of the night's engagement, analyzing Sun Jian's tactical movements and the layout of the riverbanks.
Ji Ling, exhausted and in pain, answered his questions one by one, oblivious to the advisor's internal machinations. Guo Tu lowered his head, a cold, sharp smile forming on his lips as a sinister plan took shape in his mind.
"Fine! We shall follow the Chief Clerk's counsel," Yuan Shu's defeated voice echoed across the tent. "Order the men to prepare. We retreat tomorrow morning."
"My Lord," a sharp, confident voice interrupted.
Guo Tu stepped out from the shadows, smoothing his robes as he walked to the center of the pavilion, bowing with immense theatrical flair.
"I have a strategy," Guo Tu smiled, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "A plan that will not only halt our retreat but ensure Sun Jian's head rolls at your Excellency's feet!"