Chapter 162: Nightfall and Iron Flick

The warehouse was like a giant labyrinth, with row upon row of storehouses standing close together. The surroundings were deathly quiet, with only the occasional sound of human voices, barking dogs, and the shifting of cargo.

The steward stopped before one of the warehouses and bowed. "Young Master, we have arrived."

Wang Yang took out a string of coins and smiled. "Steward Liu, you have worked hard. We will go in ourselves."

Although the steward had long expected a tip, he still received the money in a panic. "Young Master, how can you say that! You are shaming this lowly one!!!"

The poker-faced man felt an even deeper disgust for Wang Yang upon witnessing this scene.

The warehouse was vast. As soon as they stepped inside, a musty, decaying odor rushed toward them. Crates of goods were stacked into many square formations, crisscrossing the space.

Because it was too dark, the poker-faced man could not see how far these formations stretched. Only the moonlight filtering through the skylights and the lantern in Wang Yang's hand provided a sliver of light to the immediate area. Most of the space remained submerged in darkness, revealing only the silhouettes of small mountains.

"Where is the grain?" the poker-faced man asked.

"Up ahead. That is it." Wang Yang pointed.

The poker-faced man narrowed his eyes and walked closer. Seeing the grain bags stacked over a man's height, a golden short sword slid from his sleeve and sliced through one of the bags. The contents poured out like a flowing stream...

It was not grain.

It was sand and dirt.

*Puff! *

The lantern was extinguished instantly!

Darkness surged in like a tide, drowning the surroundings in an instant!

Realizing something was wrong, the poker-faced man listened for the sound to determine the position. His figure moved like a flying bird, lunging fiercely toward the direction where Wang Yang had retreated!

He was only one step away from grabbing Wang Yang!

At that moment, a gust of fierce wind struck!

A cold glint shot toward his eyes, flashing with a brilliant, snowy light!

The poker-faced man dodged to the side!

Before he could catch his breath, the snowy blade struck again!

The sound vibrated, shattering the wind, while the shadows fell like cold stars.

The frosty edge shimmered with a ghostly cold light in the darkness, swift as a spark, fast as thunder! Every move was lethal, every step perilous, forcing the poker-faced man to retreat seven steps without even a chance to counterattack!

On the seventh step, the opponent's speed slowed. Seizing the opportunity, the poker-faced man focused his energy, swung his sword upward, and deflected the blade!

But the blade merely lifted slightly before plummeting straight down like a whip!

It was heavy and powerful!

The poker-faced man blocked with his sword, his arm numbed by the vibration, and he retreated another three steps!

By now, he had retreated past the boundary of the skylight. Gasping for breath, his muscles taut, he gripped his sword hilt and stared fixedly at the opposite side, not knowing what terrifying figure would emerge from that darkness.

Moonlight poured through the skylight like a silver ribbon, isolating this area from the darkness. A figure emerged slowly within the water-like moonlight.

Clad in black like ink, with a face as cold as ice, she held a black-lacquered long *shuo* (horse lance) in her hand!

"It's you!" the poker-faced man exclaimed.

"No wonder, no wonder your sword style was so heavy! What you wield is not a sword, but a horse lance! 'Crushing Jade and Collapsing Clouds'—to practice it to such a level, what relation are you to Chen Tianfu?"

The *shuo*, also known as the horse lance, was the premier long weapon for mounted combat during the medieval era.

A lance eighteen feet long could be called a *shuo*. The *shuo* was longer than a spear, difficult to master and forge; without a family tradition of the technique, it was not easily perfected.

A fine horse lance was extremely difficult to craft, requiring a core of *Zhe* wood, wrapped in thin bamboo strips, reinforced with hemp and silk, and then lacquered and dried. This method was known as "accumulated bamboo wood shaft," requiring meticulous and exquisite craftsmanship. Once completed, the shaft alone could shatter bricks and break stones just by gripping it.

Even superior horse lances required repeated cycles of lacquering, drying, and wrapping. Sometimes, the shaft alone took a long time to craft. Thus, unless one was from a noble clan or a military family, obtaining a quality lance was difficult.

Furthermore, because they were too long to carry conveniently, they were used exclusively by the military in battle formations or as playthings for noble sons; they were not passed down in the *jianghu*.

South of the Yangtze, there were three masters of the *shuo*.

First was the "Liu Clan *Shuo*" of Liu Shilong from the Hedong Liu clan; second was the "Panlong *Shuo*" of Zhou Panlong, Marquis of Chunyuan; third was the "Chen Clan *Shuo*" of the Imperial Guard cavalry general Chen Tianfu.

Chen Qingshan had practiced the *shuo* since childhood, inheriting her father's true techniques. She originally had her own horse lance, but after Chen Tianfu's death, she drifted through the *jianghu* and could not carry such a long weapon, so she was forced to abandon the *shuo* and use a sword.

The black-lacquered iron-wrapped *shuo* she held now, named "Nightfall Iron Flick," was a superior horse lance Wang Yang had requested from the Prince of Badong. At the time, Wang Yang had offered the strategy for the Ever-Normal Granaries and took the opportunity to make two requests. The second was to ask the Prince of Badong to gift him a fine lance.

Standing there with the *shuo*, Chen Qingshan said only one thing: "Discard the sword."

Her voice was like falling ice shards in the silent warehouse, leaving no room for negotiation.

The poker-faced man did not hesitate; he leaped and sprinted toward the main gate! Chen Qingshan flicked her wrist, and the long lance traced a black lightning bolt through the moonlight, cutting off his path in the blink of an eye!

As if he had anticipated this, the poker-faced man feinted and suddenly doubled back like a cunning fox, attempting to escape from the other side!

But the long lance swung around, arriving in an instant, blocking his path once more!

The poker-faced man lunged left and right, leaping back and forth like a crafty fox, attempting to break through the blockade of the lance net!

But Chen Qingshan's lance was like a torrential downpour of ink, a rolling thunderbolt. The force of the lance shaft kicked up dust, trapping the poker-faced man firmly in a corner!

The horse lance was energy-consuming. Seeing that Chen Qingshan held the upper hand but could not secure a victory, Wang Yang came up with a plan. He emerged from behind a wooden crate behind Chen Qingshan and shouted, "Wuqian! Will you not admit defeat yet?"

The dark-skinned man was startled and rushed out, blocking Wang Yang with his saber.

The poker-faced man, feeling exhausted, saw Wang Yang and seemed to find a final sliver of hope. He let out a roar and leaped toward Wang Yang!

Chen Qingshan seized the moment and flicked her wrist!

The horizontal lance invaded the sky, its cold edge shimmering in the moonlight. The shaft struck the poker-faced man's chest with a *thud*, knocking him straight to the ground!

Blood spilled from the poker-faced man's mouth, and several of his ribs were likely broken. As he struggled to stand, Chen Qingshan's lance tip rested against his throat.

The dark-skinned man ran over and kicked away the short sword in the poker-faced man's hand.

Only then did Wang Yang walk over, smiling. "Xiao Shan, you've worked hard!"

Chen Qingshan had been a cold-eyed swordswoman with her lance, but upon hearing Wang Yang speak, her composure instantly shattered. She wanted to touch her sword hilt, but realized she wasn't carrying a sword, and the horse lance was too unwieldy to use for anything else. She could only glare at Wang Yang, pouting.

The poker-faced man's perpetually stiff face now revealed a smile, though his mouth was full of blood, and his features were too rigid; in the moonlight, he looked quite ghastly.

"Crushing Jade and Collapsing Clouds... hehe, how formidable... This move could be used with a sword, but a short sword won't work. That day, you used a three-foot-six-inch sword; if you could have unleashed seven-tenths of the essence of 'Crushing Jade and Collapsing Clouds,' I wouldn't have won so quickly. But your sword style is too heavy; it doesn't feel right."

Wang Yang said, "Wuqian, I am now—"

Wuqian seemed not to hear Wang Yang, continuing to look at Chen Qingshan. "Actually, your sword style is too heavy; you are completely copying the horse lance. Your path was wrong from the very beginning. If you hadn't had the advantage of the weapon tonight, you wouldn't have beaten me."

Chen Qingshan looked at Wang Yang, as if needing his permission to answer Wuqian.

Wang Yang was left between laughter and tears. "Speak, speak."

Chen Qingshan said, "I am indeed not skilled with the sword. Father said that to learn the sword, one needs spirit; to learn the *shuo*, one needs hard work. But no matter how well one practices the sword, it will always be suppressed by a long weapon. Just like a wandering knight or assassin will always be suppressed by a general."

The poker-faced man laughed and coughed, his body trembling like an old man nearing the end of his days. After laughing for a while, he choked up a mouthful of blood mixed with saliva. His voice was hoarse and low, like a broken bellows being pulled with difficulty.

"You're right. It's no longer the era of the sword, and certainly not the era of the wandering knight or assassin." He paused, then asked with difficulty, "However, if the sword technique reaches the pinnacle of subtlety, it might not truly be inferior to a long weapon. The Qu Cheng sword of Qingzhou, Lei Zigao of Huainan, Deng Yuanqi of Dangyang, Tao Ming of the Xing Shi Guan Tao, Yang Jing'an of the Northern Dynasty, Yang Luohan... in this vast world, how could there be no swordsmen capable of breaking a *shuo* with a sword? If I had three more years after this life-and-death battle, 'Crushing Jade and Collapsing Clouds' would not be able to trap me."

"Do you think you have three more years?" Wang Yang asked.

The poker-faced man ignored Wang Yang, continuing to speak to Chen Qingshan. "Actually, the sword is light and agile, while the *shuo* is fierce and powerful. At the very beginning, if I hadn't lost the initiative, I might not have had a chance to get close to you. Did you understand those last three moves? Do you know which school of swordsmanship that was?"

Chen Qingshan kept her face cold and said nothing.

The poker-faced man coughed a few times and asked with difficulty, "Do you know?"

Chen Qingshan remained silent.

The poker-faced man grew irritated, his voice turning shrill. "Do you know or not?"

Chen Qingshan turned her head away. "If you don't answer his questions, I won't answer yours."

The poker-faced man gasped for air, only then looking directly at Wang Yang.

Wang Yang was smiling.

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Note: ① *Book of Southern Qi, Biography of Shen Wenji*: "When the army returned, the Emperor heard of it and had the army commander and former general Chen Tianfu executed... Tianfu was skilled with the horse lance, and generals to this day model themselves after him."

The horse lance was the favorite weapon of cavalry generals in the medieval era. Pre-Qin and Western Han texts often used the term "mounted archery," linking riding and shooting. For example, Li Guang, titled the "Flying General," was strong with both horse and bow, shooting against Xiongnu archers, but we never see records of Li Guang charging into battle with cavalry, because there were no stirrups or high saddles at the time. Cavalry tactics were not about charging, but mobile mounted archery.

Existing evidence suggests stirrups appeared as early as the Eastern Han, but because the Wuliang Shrine murals—which prove the existence of stirrups in the Eastern Han—are rubbings rather than originals, they could have been altered or processed, so they cannot be considered definitive.

However, by the Jin Dynasty, single and double stirrups were already popular. Although the Eastern Han might not have had stirrups, high saddles already existed. Yang Hong's *Cavalry and Armored Cavalry Equipment* demonstrates the gradual elevation of saddles from the Warring States to the Eastern Han.

*Taiping Yulan* cites *Names of Officials of Wei*, which mentions "one high-bridge saddle with purple velvet trim," proving the use of "high saddles" at the end of the Eastern Han. Mr. Sun Ji believed that once saddles became high, mounting became difficult, necessitating a single stirrup for assistance, so the appearance of stirrups likely accompanied the high saddle.

I agree with this view. In addition to the single stirrup unearthed in the Wei-Jin tomb in Wuwei, the cavalry figurines unearthed in Ding Feng's tomb of the Wu Kingdom also have single stirrups. I believe that with further archaeological progress, more physical evidence will be unearthed, especially considering that cavalry charging tactics were already relatively mature in the late Eastern Han.

For example, Lü Bu, whose nickname also contains "Flying," was titled "Flying General." Unlike Li Guang, Lü Bu's tactics—"charging into the Yan formation with dozens of riders like Cheng Lian and Wei Yue, sometimes three or four times a day, beheading and returning"—could never have occurred with Li Guang.

The shift from "mounted archery" to "charging formations" reflects the innovation in cavalry tactics, and behind the tactical changes were improvements in horse equipment. Lü Bu must have had a high saddle; as for whether he had stirrups, we await further physical evidence.