Chapter 81

Watching Wu Sangui stand there dumbfounded, originally Bai Lang wanted to leave the city but no one dared let him out, so Wu Sangui hurried in, and after hearing Bai Lang say that, of course he was stunned… "Elder Brother Chang, I need to leave the city to take a Cao Gu. A Tartar's head can be exchanged for reward money; I'm in great hardship, truly have no money, so I go to the Tartars to borrow a head." Bai Lang repeated it again, indicating Wu Sangui to quickly order the gate opened.

Wu Sangui stared at Bai Lang for a long time, he touched his own face, looked left and right, then looked at Bai Lang again, finally tugged his hair, "You few follow Bai Shaobao! Huh? Not so many? Just need a guide? Fine, open the city gate! Take care, Bai Shaobao!" Wu Sangui decided to return and muster troops, sending someone with soldiers out to see if they could bring Bai Lang back—if the Crown Prince's Young Protector had trouble in his place, it would be hard to explain.

But for now they could only let Bai Lang out, hoping the troops he sent would be clever enough to lead this Bai Shaobao onto a crossroads, rather than actually clash with the Jianzhou Tartars. "That Bai Jianwei…" Wu Sangui sighed as he saw Bai Lang off and headed back.

Bai Lang's horse was swift; the fewer people, the faster the movement. With an army of several thousand, they could never reach Jinzhou City in just over an hour. Interestingly, along the way he saw no Tartars; a few small towns guarding Ningyuan kept their gates shut, and although there seemed to be activity on both sides, no one blocked Bai Lang's path.

As he neared Jinzhou City, Bai Lang saw the few night scouts ordered by Wu Sangui to follow him were already very nervous. "You all wait here; watch the battle from the high ground, one person is enough." Having said that, Bai Lang rode his horse alone, lifting the weapons he carried on his mount, and leisurely galloped toward Jinzhou City.

The Tartars outside the city had light cavalry and had already spotted Bai Lang's party, but they couldn't figure out what this Ming general in exquisite mountain-pattern armor was up to. Could he be coming to surrender? Seeing him with only a few cavalry, it didn't look like an assault—especially since the Ming army wouldn't dare attack a Qing city. A few of the light cavalry rode over, trying to find out what was happening.

When they got closer, they saw the Ming general actually brandishing weapons—a stance with a spear in his left hand and a sword in his right—something they'd never seen before. The light cavalry let out a howl, drew their horse bows, and prepared to shoot the Ming general—such a reckless person would be handing them credit for free, and with that exquisite mountain-pattern armor, the general might even be a high official.

Arrows were useless against Bai Lang; his martial skill now let him freely control his weapons, mastering both the mounted spear and long sword. He casually used his left‑hand iron spear to knock away arrows aimed at his warhorse, and he didn't even bother to block arrows that struck him.

The mountain-pattern armor was one of the finest armors of the age, perfectly shielding against arrows from horse bows—breaking such armor required a heavy, armor‑piercing arrow fired from a foot bow after dismounting, and it had to hit within thirty paces. Bai Lang met the charging cavalry head‑on, while the riders split left and right, each swinging their weapons to strike. Occasionally they also hurled flying axes and other thrown weapons.

Bai Lang ignored them entirely; as flying axes and thrown swords struck him, he merely shifted his body, and the weapons instantly bounced off the ground. At that point the Tartar horsemen realized they were outmatched, but it was too late to turn their horses and flee; they gritted their teeth and charged, hoping to knock the seemingly out‑of‑place Ming general from his horse.

Harvest, it's just a harvest—Bai Lang was holding the ends of his iron spear and long Pu Dao just as one would grip a normal weapon handle, then swung and thrust, dispatching those horsemen. The iron spear, like a string of gourds, lifted two horsemen onto its tip, and the Pu Dao was even smoother; a single swing sent a head and half a body flying.

After slaying those horsemen, Bai Lang signaled the distant watching riders to come and collect the heads; he himself continued to ride slowly toward Jinzhou City—soldiers on the city walls must have seen the scene, and now it was up to how many Cao Gu Bai Lang could take. "By the way, do these soldiers carry money? You came out with me on this hard errand, let's each add one to make five, leave a share for me!"

Jinzhou City left its gates open, and a swarm of Qing soldiers poured out. Bai Lang laughed heartily and charged straight in—only for his horse to be hit by two arrows and nearly collapse. "Loss incurred!" he muttered, leapt off his warhorse into the air, pointed his toe and slipped into the formation to slash. His weapon had the advantage of length and weight, and he himself need not worry about defense—the enemy formation lacked heavy firearms, and even heavy arrows might not wound him; his swift movements made it extremely hard to aim at his face.

Both the iron spear and Pu Dao have long blades suited for slicing, and Bai Lang now wielded the iron spear as a large double‑edged sword. The Qing soldiers before him appeared to be elite troops on standby; to don armor and join battle in such a short time meant they likely rotated on duty regularly. These Qing soldiers wore at least cotton armor reinforced with chainmail; although Bai Lang's weapons were sharp, cutting through their armor still wore them down.

Thus, after he hacked down a line of Qing soldiers, both the iron spear and Pu Dao seemed to need re‑sharpening; they no longer cut as smoothly as at first. Yet in just a few breaths he had already slain over twenty Qing soldiers without a single wound. Only then did the remaining Qing troops have time to react, and they were frightened—Bai Lang's killing speed was so fast they couldn't keep up.

At that moment they scattered in a clamor, and the cannons on the city wall? They hadn't been loaded yet, and a solid shot hitting Bai Lang was practically impossible. Bai Lang casually tossed his sword‑spear aside, preparing to enter the city for Cao Gu. "We can't go through the city gate tunnel; if something blocks that end and fires, we'd be doomed. So scaling the wall is best!"

When it's time to act, Bai Lang smashed his fist into the wall; the fist sank in instantly, deep enough for his purpose. He climbed the wall swiftly, "Because this wall‑climbing technique was actually taught to me by a man named De Lei Ke." After a few punches, Bai Lang reached the top of the wall; the defenders hadn't even finished preparations, and those on the wall didn't even know he had climbed up. The Tartars who had been watching from the wall were now busy reorganizing the scattered troops below, so Bai Lang easily scaled to the top. He even had time to glance left and right, and the Tartars he ran into hadn't recognized him yet, blinking as they stared.