IRBSC 89

Chapter 89

After having a meal, Xue Yuan went out to check on the soldiers providing relief to the disaster-stricken people.

These hungry disaster victims waited patiently in line to receive food, hope gleaming in their eyes. Rows upon rows of people filled the entire open space, the queue seemed endless, with a sea of heads as far as the eye could see.

Xue Yuan asked, “Have you arranged accommodations for the group of disaster victims following the food distribution  station?”

The officer in charge of distributing food to the soldiers replied, “We have already arranged accommodations for this group of disaster victims. However, they have been hungry for so long that all they can eat for now is thick vegetable porridge. The kitchen is currently preparing this porridge.”

Xue Yuan concisely replied, “Send someone to take me to the refugee settlement.”

The officer assigned a soldier to accompany him, and Xue Yuan entered the refugee settlement. He saw that many people had already received their rations and were gathered around, cooking their meals in clay pots.

These disaster victims had been relocated to Northern Xinjiang, but due to their large numbers, many of them were placed in makeshift shelters that couldn’t even be called houses. These shelters had leaky roofs and drafty walls. In the midst of his busy schedule, General Xue had only managed to construct temporary shelters to accommodate the disaster victims. However, in the harsh cold of Northern Xinjiang, these makeshift shelters were far from sufficient.

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The soldiers building the houses and the disaster victims were drawn by the cheers and turned to look. They gasped in awe, then joined in, applauding and cheering.

These soldiers stationed in Northern Xinjiang constantly faced the risk of locusts and nomadic threats. They witnessed the horrifying conditions of the disaster-stricken area and grappled with the crisis of dwindling food supplies. After eating thin porridge for a fortnight, their morale had been low, and they had been plagued by deep-seated anxiety. The food that Xue Yuan brought was a heavy blow to their anxiety, but it wasn’t enough. The soldiers and the numb disaster victims needed a thorough celebration to boost their spirits and ignite new hope.

A victory.

Northern Xinjiang needed a victory to uplift the people’s spirits.

After a moment of thought, Xue Yuan lazily carved the final floral pattern with his knife, then neatly sheathed it.

The officers standing around, enjoying the spectacle, continued to cheer with the soldiers. Some were even itching to join the excitement, throwing punches in the midst of the uproar.

They reveled in their own way, while Xue Yuan lowered his head to focus on carving the wood. However, at some point, the hand holding the knife involuntarily etched three characters into the wood.

When he finished the last stroke, Xue Yuan didn’t even know how the first stroke of the name had come to be.

He snapped out of his reverie, his thumb gently caressing the engraved characters. General Yang Hui, who had fought alongside him in Northern Xinjiang, approached, leaned down, and asked loudly, “Major General, what does this say?”

Xue Yuan’s fingertip happened to trace the middle character, and he smiled, enveloped in the wind, sand, and lingering memories. “Yuan.”

Gu Lian, Gu Yuanbai.

General Yang suddenly realized, “Isn’t this your name, Major General?”

“Indeed,” Xue Yuan chuckled. “Let’s call it fate.”

Xue Yuan, Xue Jiuyao.

It just felt right.

So right that even the heavens wouldn’t want to strike him down with lightning.

Xue Yuan’s mood lifted, and beside the three characters “Gu Yuanbai,” he added the three characters “Xue Jiuyao” in a flamboyant manner. He admired it for a while, and no matter how he looked at it, it was just right.

But the wood with these six characters carved on it was now unusable, perhaps even to be destroyed, and Xue Yuan frowned at the thought. He suddenly stood up, taking the wood and the knife, and strode purposefully into the military camp.

“Major General?” The calls from behind gradually faded into the distance.

At this moment, Xue Yuan’s heart was burning with youthful vigor, soaring to new heights. He entered his tent, picked up a large sword, strapped it to his waist, led his spirited horse, and raised his whip, exclaiming, “Let’s go!”

Like an arrow, his horse shot out from the camp, heading straight for the territory of the Khitan tribe.

The Khitan tribe nearest to the border was the one in Rilian. Xue Yuan stealthily approached, avoiding the sentries, and stopped his horse a hundred miles to the east of the Rilian tribe’s camp. The horse raised its hooves high and neighed, halting its rapid gallop.

Xue Yuan adjusted his robe, dismounted, and inserted the piece of wood with his and Gu Yuanbai’s names carved into it into the ground.

He covered the wood with thick soil and stood there for a moment, remembering the approximate location, and smiled.

The first rays of the sun rising in the east of the grasslands would be the first to bathe this piece of land.

Xue Yuan’s sentiment was hidden beneath the enemy’s feet. When this vast grassland belonged to Gu Yuanbai, the Emperor of Da Heng would personally discover this secret.

Neither wind nor sand could carry it away, and neither heavy rain nor storms could wash it away. If Gu Yuanbai didn’t accept Xue Yuan for a day, that wooden marker would stand tall and unwavering. Besides Xue Yuan and the heavens, no one else would know.

Xue Yuan mounted his horse, rode Gale, turned around, and galloped through the chilly wind.

As he crossed out of Rilian’s territory, he lowered his body and glanced back at the Khitan tribe’s camp, now tiny as ants in the distance.

Rilian.

You’re so close, if you don’t die, who will?

*

Rilian believed that it was time to launch an attack on the young general of Da Heng. Two days later, they began sending troops to test the waters, engaging in multiple skirmishes on the plains with the Da Heng soldiers patrolling and defending the border.

Both sides had their victories and losses, but because the Khitan tribe’s horses had not eaten their fill for days, they were now extremely weakened. The Da Heng soldiers on patrol, as per their commander’s orders, had not exerted their full strength, giving the impression of a tug-of-war between evenly matched forces.

However, even so, for the Khitan people who had always taken pride in their military achievements and cavalry, it was a humiliation.

After several encounters and skirmishes, Rilian had a good estimate of the situation and prepared to organize a large cavalry force to push into Da Heng’s territory in ten days. They split their forces into two groups, advancing from the east and west sides towards the Da Heng border.

In the Da Heng camp, General Xue led the charge from the west, sending Xue Yuan with three thousand cavalry and five thousand infantry to defend against external threats. Xue Yuan took command and led eight thousand troops to the enemy’s intended destination to deploy his formations.

The eight thousand soldiers stood in perfect formation, shaping the battle formation that Xue Yuan had designed. They were dressed in high-quality armor and wielded sharp weapons that gleamed with a cold light. After more than ten days of rest and recuperation, the soldiers had regained their vitality, and beneath their armor were robust bodies brimming with strength.

Da Heng’s bed crossbows were placed in all directions. These massive repeating crossbow weapons could unleash a barrage of arrows, creating a vast and dense arrow rain formation. Each bed crossbow had three to five soldiers operating it.

In Xue Yuan’s eyes, the outcome of this war was already clear.

The nomadic cavalry was formidable and fierce, but their horses were now extremely weak, unable to charge or run. Moreover, the weapons used by nomadic tribes were still basic, primarily consisting of bows, arrows, and blades. They had been isolated by the Great Wall, with no access to knowledge about weapon manufacturing. While they had been stagnating, Da Heng’s soldiers had already equipped themselves with crossbows.

How could the Khitan people win this?

Xue Yuan watched the approaching enemy cavalry in the distance, raised an eyebrow, and smiled deeply, instructing his soldiers to prepare for the confrontation.

*

Rilian personally led his troops on a detour to the east to confront Xue Yuan. Even before the large cavalry army had reached the city, they could see the soldiers below the walls prepared for battle.

A cruel desire for slaughter flickered in Rilian’s eyes. “Is that the general sent by the court?”

His deputy nodded. “It should be.”

Their ambitions were fueled by Da Heng’s supplies, and the fire in their eyes burned brightly. The entire tribe let out a thunderous roar, charging forward with shouts of battle, pushing all the way to the front of Xue Yuan.

With such a massive formation, it often had the effect of frightening inexperienced troops. The cavalry hadn’t even reached the enemy, but Rilian was already envisioning victory, laughing heartily.

However, in the next moment, his triumphant expression froze on his face. They had seen the face of the leader of Da Heng, a face that was all too familiar, incredibly familiar! The young general sent by the court was none other than Xue Yuan, the one who had bitten off a piece of his flesh!

It was Xue Yuan, the son of that old man, Xue Ping!

Rilian’s expression instantly twisted into a grimace.

Xue Yuan had already spotted Rilian. He flashed a bloodthirsty grin and shouted, “Fire!”

The archers moved with perfect coordination, executing their actions cleanly. They wielded the new crossbows manufactured by the engineering department and launched an arrow storm at the Khitan forces.

Countless arrows rained down from the sky, precisely aimed at the now bewildered enemy, their faces reflecting a mixture of shock and disbelief. In the midst of their terror, the soldiers released the devastating power of this mighty weapon.

Unfortunately, the Khitan riders had entered the range of Da Heng’s soldiers, but Da Heng’s soldiers were still beyond the reach of the Khitan archers.

They could only endure without retaliating.

The torrent of arrows, numbering in the millions, struck the Khitan soldiers and their mounts. The panicked horses scattered in all directions, causing chaos as people were thrown from their mounts, trampled to death by the fleeing horses. These horses, long deprived of adequate food, were on the brink of collapse. At this moment of panic, one startled horse triggered a chain reaction of panic among the others. Between the arrow storm and the stampeding horses, the Khitan casualties were already countless.

How absurd.

Rilian’s expression twisted with a touch of terror.

Before the Khitan forces could even get close to the Da Heng soldiers, Rilian’s tribesmen were already showing signs of collapse. He shouted, “Shield troops! Move forward! Counterattack with arrows!”

His deputy struggled to resist the onslaught of arrows, unable to take a step forward. He panicked, saying, “Chieftain, we can’t move!”

Usually, arrow storms came in waves, with intervals for counterattacks. But this time, for some inexplicable reason, Da Heng’s archers seemed to have been coordinated in such a way that the arrow storm showed no signs of abating, making it impossible for them to advance.

Shouldn’t there be an end to this?

The corpses of Khitan soldiers and horses killed by the arrows blocked the advance of the remaining tribesmen. Even Rilian couldn’t believe how fierce this arrow storm was. His personal guards had already lost more than a dozen men while trying to protect him. Rilian gritted his teeth, torn between death and the shame of being defeated by Da Heng. His face quivered with anger, and finally, he yelled, “Retreat!”

As they watched the Khitan forces flee in disarray, the speed of their mounted escape increasing, they shielded their faces, feeling a profound sense of disgrace and humiliation.

With heavy losses on the enemy’s side and no casualties among their own troops, Da Heng had won a resounding victory!

Those were the Khitans, the brutal and ruthless raiders who had repeatedly attacked the border. They were routed!

Had the Khitans always been this weak?