Chapter 197

Everyone blinked a few times before they could clearly see Bai Lang's appearance. He wore a right-lapel battle robe with red brocade lining, a bear-skin belt at his waist, and on his head a strange hat neither round nor square, higher at the back and lower at the front, with long pheasant feathers stuck in both ears. At first glance he looked like someone who had just stepped off a stage, but his face with drooping eyebrows and luxuriant beard was extraordinarily heroic, clearly not an actor—especially with those two iron spears flashing white in his hands.

Bai Lang ultimately couldn't gather a full set of horse armor; since he couldn't even get leather armor, he might as well not bother faking it with cloth and such—it's a shame he originally wanted to look like a fully equipped cavalryman.

Most of the people present were uneducated rubes; truly understanding Bai Lang's outfit would be rare—perhaps only two out of tens of thousands: one is the chief steward Zhan Huwei, who, not taking the civil service exams, had picked up miscellaneous knowledge and thus could recognize it; the other is the Qing commander Zhao Hui, who also had some learning as a martial man. This is the pheasant-feather crown of Han generals, plus the Han-style battle robe—such attire hasn't been seen for several hundred to nearly a thousand years. Especially that crown.

If this attire isn't that of an actor, then he must be a rebel; and this rebel's appearance... someone has already reported it to Zhao Hui: this is the very Bai Lang who called himself the Grand Protector of the Ming Crown Prince, the one who killed a bunch of officials, especially the senior minister Shaanxi Provincial Governor Zhong Yin. Who made Bai Lang brother so strikingly distinctive, such a flashy guy? But Zhao Hui's mind was turning over strange things like "the first warrior," "Batulu bravery title," and such, not knowing why.

If Zhong Yin could be resurrected, hearing Zhao Hui's thoughts would surely make him a kindred spirit, for he had thought the same before his death.

Not only have some senior officers on the Qing side realized he's a rebel, but at least the leaders of the Red Flower Society in the Hezhuo faction have also recognized him as a rebel—and moreover, the number-one rebel under heaven who has slain a string of Qing officials; this one man's exploits already exceed the combined achievements of the Red Flower Society's leaders over the past twenty years. So what is this rebel doing by walking over here? And what does he mean by asking, "Do you intend to seize the Four Western Garrisons south and north of the Tianshan for yourselves?"

Among the Red Flower Society's leaders there are clever people, and of course the chief steward is one of them; he has already taken Princess Xiangxiang across both sides' lines and entered the Hezhuo troops' formation. In just a few glances they realized this person's arrival probably wouldn't end peacefully—otherwise why would he bring up the Four Western Garrisons?

Bai Lang never liked to talk much; the tiger in his heart began to tremble slightly. "This chief steward resembles Zhan Huwei—quite pleasing to the eye... Even if they get lucky this time, if we meet on the battlefield I won't go out of my way to kill them." Speaking of which, that bunch of rebels over there seem to spend all day strolling around, sightseeing, like a group of homosexuals going out together." Bai Lang recalled a TV drama he had watched long ago.

He also laughed and shook his head, saying, "I, for the Han, defend the land and drive out the barbarians! Restore China!" His low voice rolled across the battlefield; then he clamped his legs, and the horse reared up, loosed its four hooves, and charged straight into the Hezhuo army. "Satisfying, satisfying—enemies all around! Just cut loose and kill! Hahahaha!" Bai Lang shouted loudly; his words rolled like thunder over the field, he spurred the horse to top speed and immediately began to ram the formation.

"No!" A sharp cry was quickly drowned out by the twang of bowstrings, as the front-line Hezhuo troops loosed arrows at Bai Lang. Meanwhile, the tiger in his heart began to leap and roar, and he finally revealed his true heroic bearing—a vigor and courage of a Han general that even the slave girl Huo Qingtong had never seen. Bai Lang casually deflected the incoming arrows with his two spears; he himself had no fear of these weak cavalry bows, but for the sake of his horse he still knocked them aside.

The Qing forces didn't seize the moment to charge; instead they watched from across the battlefield as this rebel broke through on a lone horse, and Zhao Hui even had the leisure to remark that the rebel was indeed a warrior, daring to charge alone. Seeing Bai Lang deflect the flying arrows without letting a single feather touch him, the Qing generals and soldiers widened their eyes—such skill is hardly found even in storybooks. And with just a chance of one or two arrows among thousands, Bai Lang had already plunged headfirst into the Hezhuo formation.

The Hezhuo cavalry also wielded spears and sabers, but before Bai Lang they were as insignificant as straw. He swept his left iron spear sideways, genuinely knocking those spears off course, and when his right spear swept out again, blood shot up to the sky—the few cavalrymen before him were cleaved clean through by his spear, rider and horse alike. Such ferocity frightened the troops on both sides, and Bai Lang simply charged straight in.

The spearhead, over two feet long, became like a horse‑cutting blade in Bai Lang's hands; this Junior Protector swung left and right, felling Hezhuo cavalry troop after troop with his spear, occasionally thrusting to lift a man onto the tip and fling him aside to disrupt the formation. All the sabers and spears swung at him from around were casually batted away, causing him no injury; instead, the powerful recoil sent the cavalrymen's weapons flying from their grasp, and some even lost balance and were thrown from their horses.

Bai Lang moved as if through an empty realm, simply cutting loose to slaughter; he roared forward, and the general's shout proved remarkably effective. A tiger‑infused roar made men and horses shy away; the warhorses repeatedly retreated or turned and fled, dragging their riders to easy death. The Hezhuo vanguard was thrown into utter chaos by Bai Lang, while the Qing forces, seeing an opening, sounded the advance and moved forward.

Bai Lang's speed and ferocity nearly broke the Hezhuo soldiers' morale—this man seemed like a demon; their blades could not wound him, while he easily cut down warrior after warrior, group after group that charged at him—and moreover, they died without intact corpses. He had already slain over a hundred by hand, yet showed no fatigue; instead he grew fiercer the longer he fought. Cuiyu Huangshan stared dumbfounded—she never imagined this man would raise his butcher's knife against her tribe, and be so strong—it was a pity she had earlier worried Bai Lang might be killed by random arrows.

The martial skill of this man before her was nothing like anything she had ever learned or that her master knew; it was entirely a battlefield killing technique, perhaps rough but with unimaginable power—every move, every stance aimed to kill as many as possible as fast as possible. The Qing forces were pressing in, and the Hezhuo vanguard was about to collapse. This man before her was ferocious beyond compare, and yet could not be harmed; in the blink of an eye he had slain over a hundred, and already hundreds and thousands of households had fallen at his hands.

Having lost part of their organizational capacity, the Hezhuo cavalry's morale plummeted; they turned their horses in panic, seeking only to escape beneath Bai Lang's spears—this was the prelude to a collapse like a mountain falling.

At first the Red Flower Society members wanted to go forward and hold the line, but the chief steward gave a glance—so the few leaders known for their cleverness immediately grabbed some of the others, quietly withdrawing without fanfare, and soon pulled out of the battle line. Since they were never part of the Hezhuo military organization to begin with, their quiet retreat attracted no special notice from the Hezhuo.