Chapter 143: Retreat to Jiangnan?

In the miasmal southern lands, the hot, humid air like thick mist tightly enveloped everything.

The sky was shrouded by heavy clouds; sunlight struggled through gaps, casting a few dim, yellowish rays.

Around lay dense, deep forest; tall trees blocked sky and sun, branches intertwining as if weaving an impenetrable net.

Wei Qing-led Han Army faced the rebel army cobbled together by Sang Hongyang, Jin Ridi, and allied southern clans in this perilous, unknown miasmal region.

Han Army soldiers gripped their weapons, eyes showing vigilance and resolve; despite the hot, humid environment making them sweat profusely and the miasma occasionally attacking their bodies, they remained upright, ready for battle.

Though neatly arrayed, their morale was somewhat low.

Wei Qing gazed solemnly at the rebel camp.

On the rebel side, the troops likewise wore grave faces; in this unfamiliar, dangerous setting, neither side dared slacken, and a great battle loomed.

Sang Hongyang wore a splendid robe, rode a finely adorned steed, and bore a faint, triumphant sneer.

Beside him, Jin Ridi cast a fierce gaze, occasionally sweeping over the Han Army.

The leaders of the southern clans, weapons in hand, gathered together, whispering.

They had, relying on their familiarity with the local terrain and secretly prepared forces, faced the Han Army for days, steadily holding the advantage.

With a piercing bugle call tearing the sky, the great battle finally erupted.

The rebels struck first, using their known terrain to surge out from the forest on all sides.

A portion of the rebels swiftly flanked the Han Army's wings via hidden paths, concealed beneath dense vegetation, virtually undetectable to outsiders.

Seeing this, Han Army soldiers hurriedly turned to block; the clash of weapons instantly rang across the battlefield.

Meanwhile, the southern clans' warriors, relying on agile bodies, nimbly moved through the woods, loosing arrow after arrow at the Han Army.

They skillfully used trees as cover, constantly shifting position, making it hard for the Han Army to aim a counterstrike.

Sang Hongyang and Jin Ridi, however, commanded from the rear, their faces brimming with confidence, victory already in hand.

Seeing this, Wei Qing quickly adjusted tactics.

He directed the Han Army to form a tight square to resist the rebel assault.

Soldiers swiftly closed ranks, spearmen behind shield-bearers, forming a solid defensive line.

Yet the rebel offensive surged like waves, wave after wave.

In the hot, humid environment, Han Army soldiers gradually felt their strength wane.

The miasma continually corroded their bodies, causing dizziness and greatly reducing their combat power.

The rebels, however, were like fish in water, having lived on this land for years and long adapted to the environment.

On the battlefield, the mire gave both sides great difficulty in movement.

The Han Army's warhorses often sank into the mire, making it hard to unleash the power of a charge.

The rebels, however, skillfully avoided these hazardous zones and continued to attack the Han Army.

In the fierce fighting, though the Han Army stubbornly resisted, the rebels' terrain advantage gradually turned the situation against them.

Wei Qing watched the battlefield, his heart burning with anxiety.

If he did not quickly devise a counter, the Han Army would very likely lose this battle.

This great battle determined whether the rebellion could be smoothly suppressed, whether the southern development could continue, and the fate of the Great Han.

He dared not slacken in the slightest.

And just as the imperial army was falling into passivity,

Woo—woo—woo!

Suddenly, from the distant mountains and forests, came waves of bugle calls.

Both Wei Qing's and Sang Hongyang's forces froze, involuntarily turning their gaze toward the distance.

Hai Lu-led mountain forest warriors, like ghosts, slipped through behind the rebels, precisely cutting their supply line.

Yue Zhao then led expert mounted archers together with the newly dispatched Han cavalry under Zhao Chongguo, fighting in concert; they galloped across the enemy formation, spears and arrows falling like rain, shattering the rebel ranks into disarray.

On the battlefield, cries of battle and wails intertwined; the rebels began to retreat steadily, soldiers discarding helmets and armor, fleeing in all directions.

The situation instantly reversed.

Seeing this, Wei Qing also shouted loudly, leading his men in a desperate counterattack.

Seeing this, Sang Hongyang opposite was panic-stricken, but he feigned composure, hastily summoning Jin Ridi and the various clan chiefs.

He rode his horse, pacing back and forth before the crowd, shouting: 'Don't panic, everyone! Though we have met a setback, we still have a chance to win.'

'I suggest we retreat to defend the south bank of the Great River, carve out a fiefdom. The river is a natural barrier, easy to defend, hard to attack; the Han Army lacks a strong navy and cannot cross the Great River.'

'Moreover, since ancient times the south has been rife with miasma; once Central Plains dynasties' armies penetrate deep, they easily fall ill and cannot sustain war. We have long operated in this south, know the environment, and with these advantages will surely stand firm and plan a great enterprise!'

Jin Ridi furrowed his brow, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, asking: 'Thus, can this really work?'

A clan leader also showed worry: '…Can this keep us safe?'

Sang Hongyang's eyes firm, he raised his voice: 'Of course! The peril of the Great River is a natural barrier. If we hold the south bank, how could the Han Army easily cross? In this south, miasma is our ally, able to weaken the Han Army's strength. As long as we stand united, we will surely hold this land, and when the time is ripe, we can make a comeback!'

Everyone listening to Sang Hongyang's analysis saw their formerly despondent expressions gradually change.

Jin Ridi clenched his fists, fighting spirit rekindled on his face: 'Good! Then as you say, we will retreat to defend the south bank of the Great River.'

The clan leaders also nodded, one shouting loudly: 'Exactly! We know this place; even if the Han Army comes, they won't get anything good!'

Hearing this, the rebel troops' formerly low morale also rose somewhat.

They began to regroup, under Sang Hongyang's command, slowly retreating toward the south bank of the Yangtze, hoping to rely on the river's natural barrier and the south's special environment to continue opposing the Han Army.

Under the overcast sky, the rolling river surged; Sang Hongyang, anxious as burning, continually urged the rebels to hasten.

Just as the rebels were about to withdraw to the south bank of the Great River, the situation suddenly changed.

At that moment, countless warships suddenly appeared on the distant river, their prow flags fluttering, bearing the character 'Han'.

They were the newly built imperial navy led by Dongfang Shuo and others, coming in mighty force to outflank.

These warships were tall and sturdy, riding the wind and breaking waves on the river, possessing extraordinary vigor.

The oars moved in unison, sending up layers of spray, like an iron giant dragon lunging straight at the rebel army.

Seeing this, Sang Hongyang's face turned deathly pale; he stared wide-eyed in terror, muttering, "How is this possible……Where did they get a navy……"

Jin Ridi was also shocked, gripping the long sword in his hand, veins bulging on the back of his hand, as he watched the Han Army warship gradually approach, a feeling of despair welled up in his heart.

The Han Army navy swiftly closed in, war drums beating, battle cries shaking the heavens.

Han Army arrows rained down like rain upon the rebel army.

The rebel army's formation collapsed instantly, soldiers fleeing in all directions, wails unceasing.