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墨書 Inktalez
The speed of the Sentinel dispatched by the Zhao Army is too fast; at this rate, they will reach Gao Ping's territory in just a few days. Of course, this possibility is minimal, as the Qin Army's vanguard has already arrived here. Given the circumstances, a defensive counterattack is urgently needed.
Lu Ziran and Sun Thirteen hurried back to Gao Ping County to inform Wang He that the Zhao Army has arrived and immediate action is required. They decided to send Generals Meng Wu and Li Xin to lead an expedition with one hundred fifty cavalrymen guided by locals to Old Horse Ridge. This location is advantageous for both offense and defense; as long as the Zhao Army has not yet established a foothold, they can seize it in one swift move. Along the way, they will search for Zhao Army outposts and eliminate them on the spot to prevent any news of the Qin Army's movements from leaking.
Meng Wu received the orders, and with Li Xin, they assembled their troops and set off immediately. Their progress was smooth, successfully ambushing five Zhao Army Sentinels and killing twenty-seven enemies without any casualties on their side. This completely cut off the Zhao Army's reconnaissance efforts, temporarily concealing the Qin Army's movements. The Mountain God Temple was chosen as the forward command post, allowing them to remain hidden in the snowy mountains.
On this day, the Qin Army assault team led by Meng Wu and Li Xin finally arrived at the foot of Old Horse Ridge as scheduled. Fortunately, according to reports from the Sentinels, no large forces of the Zhao Army were detected in the vicinity. At that moment, a cloud-like sunset painted the western sky red.
The Ancient People say: Look southeast in the morning, look northwest in the evening.
At this moment, the evening glow in the northwest sky suggested that there would be no rain or snow tonight or tomorrow. However, clouds began to gather gradually, making it undeniable that snowfall was likely during the night.
Meng Wu looked up at the thick clouds encroaching upon the evening glow in the northwest and discussed with Li Xin to set up camp on site. They planned to prepare food at dawn and set off at Bunny Hour. Once morning came and if the snow had stopped, they would directly ascend to occupy Old Horse Ridge's summit.
Before the steaming buns could be taken off the stove, snow indeed began to fall from the now gray sky. The snowflakes were small but dense, landing on the soldiers' armor with a rustling sound.
Standing outside his tent, Meng Wu caught a whiff of food carried by the wind, which pricked at his heart. He looked up at a sky he would never forget and fell into memories of the past...
It was also under a sky of similar color, with familiar scents of food wafting through—not from his own camp but from nearby enemy encampments. Even though they were separated by several miles, he could almost smell it through the rising smoke.
The besieged Qin Army had held their ground for twenty-seven days; they were on the brink of collapse due to running out of ammunition and supplies. They had attempted breakout after breakout over a dozen times; like a barrel tightly sealed, those trying to escape were left bloodied and battered. If they continued to hold out any longer, starving soldiers would resort to slaughtering their horses!
Horses have always been considered legs for soldiers; this principle holds true everywhere. If they relied solely on their two legs to escape, even if they managed to break out, they would not get far. The enemy's cavalry would soon catch up with them, leading to a one-sided massacre. For this reason, Meng Wu had always refused to allow his soldiers to kill their horses because that was their last glimmer of hope! What sense does it make to sever one's own legs while trying to escape!?
He decided to take a desperate gamble, launching a final charge while the enemy was having dinner. Whether he could break through or not, dying in battle was better than starving to death here! He left a short sword for each of the Wounded Soldiers who could not break out with the army, allowing them to choose between suicide or surrender. After all, they were once brothers-in-arms, and he couldn't bring himself to carry out a massacre.
Hearing the cries and roars from the tent where the Wounded Soldiers were housed, Meng Wu suddenly realized that his heart had turned to ice. Looking up at the lifeless sky, the falling snowflakes instantly transformed into a scene drenched in blood.
Whether through subsequent suicides or seeking help, the eyes of those remaining were stained blood-red by their brothers' blood. His powerless fists suddenly filled with strength; his brothers had merely gone ahead, waiting on the road to the Bridge of Helplessness!
Just as the food in the enemy camp was being served, figures of Qin Army soldiers suddenly emerged from the white steam. At that moment, no one shouted for blood; they poured all their strength into their arms. What followed were flashes of Cold Light as sharp blades swung, splattering freshly cooked rice mixed with blood everywhere.
Hearing someone let out a painful wail snapped the stunned Allied Forces soldiers back to reality. They hurriedly grabbed their weapons and rushed toward the source of the fighting.
Some Qin Army soldiers, clearly famished, jumped off their horses when they saw steam rising from the pot of rice. Ignoring the heat, they stuffed their mouths with the cooked rice but were shot down by arrows flying through the air.
The Qin Army's suicidal charge unfolded under increasing pressure, with galloping horses carrying everyone's hopes as they fought to break through. But this was already a desperate situation; the cries for battle rose and fell like waves until they eventually faded into silence.
When Meng Wu, drenched in blood, discarded his half-broken spear and drew his Sword, he realized he had actually broken free from the hopeless encirclement. However, most of his men had been left behind in the enemy camp and would never come out again. When he turned back to count those who had escaped with him, only one hundred and one remained. Ultimately, only seventeen would make it back to the Qin State's main camp.
A force of four thousand men marching between heaven and earth was a magnificent sight. Yet just like that, it was gone—like a dream of romance and beauty from last night. Remembering that final struggle, he could still hear the fierce clashes of weapons and horses in his ears.
One familiar face after another had turned to dust, leaving behind only sighs that brought tears to those who survived. Hearing footsteps approaching from behind, Meng Wu quickly lowered his head to wipe away his tears.
Li Xin handed Meng Wu two buns and then began to eat heartily himself. Looking up at Old Horse Ridge hidden in the snow mist, he asked, "General Meng! If we take this hill tomorrow, we won't push further, right?"
Meng Wu took a bite of his bun against the wind and snow and glanced at the dark silhouette of the mountain nearby. If there were tens of thousands behind him at this moment, this would be an ideal forward command post. But with only over a hundred people under his command, holding their position and waiting for reinforcements was the best strategy. He nodded in agreement; this mountain would serve as their defensive point for this operation.
Li Xin gazed at the location and let out a long sigh.
Meng Wu looked at the person standing beside him and curiously asked, "We have already reached the foot of the mountain, and there are no signs of the Zhao Army here. This is a great opportunity; why does Li Brother sigh?"
Li Xin shook his head with a smile and pointed towards Old Horse Ridge. "Alas! Thankfully, there is still snow at this time!" After saying that, he turned to leave.
Hearing this, Meng Wu felt even more puzzled. Holding the mountaintop and waiting for reinforcements meant believing that the army would arrive soon. It was just a matter of holding on for a few days; what did the presence of snow have to do with it? Just as he turned around to clarify, he saw Li Xin shaking the bun he held in his left hand.
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