Chapter 470: Night Battle

Yang Guangdi crouched on the ground, his legs somewhat numb. The body of Da Huo had long since stopped twitching, but a trace of warmth still lingered. His palm slowly slid from the top of Da Huo's head all the way down, feeling the familiar sensation of mane bristles rubbing against his palm, not stopping until he reached the saddle.

A familiar sharp whistle sounded in the distance. Yang Guangdi pressed his body low and turned his head to look east. A speck of firelight had appeared on the horizon, flickering in the pitch-black night, strikingly conspicuous.

A moment later, a beast's howl rang out, echoing long across the snowy plain.

Yang Guangdi had clashed with the Qing army many times and could tell that this animal-like cry was actually a Qing army contact signal. In the silent night, it was hard to judge the distance, but it was closer than the whistling arrow just now.

Yang Guangdi gripped the cavalry bow in his hand and groped around nearby. He found no bow stand, nor did he touch any arrows.

After pausing a moment, Yang Guangdi slowly felt his way to Da Huo's neck. There was an exposed arrow tail. He first applied a little force, and the arrow shaft withdrew a section. Da Huo's body showed no sign of movement. Yang Guangdi listened carefully for a moment, then pulled outward with force again. The arrow shaft rubbed against the muscle, making a hissing sound, until the diamond-shaped arrowhead pulled free from the flesh.

There were two arrows in the neck, but one had already been snapped off. Yang Guangdi felt his way along, pulling another arrow from the horse's rump. Yang Guangdi inspected carefully, practically stroking every part of Da Huo's body with his hands, but the side pressed against the ground could not be turned over, so he did not know how many arrows Da Huo had actually taken.

Holding the two arrows in his hand, Yang Guangdi felt the thickness of the shafts and knew that only one of them was an Armor-Piercing Awl; the other was a Light Arrow with an ordinary diamond-shaped head.

In the pitch-black wilderness to the east, the faint neighing of horses could be heard. Yang Guangdi lay down, pressed himself against Da Huo's neck, covered his face with the mane, and after staying there a moment, stood up and advanced quickly in the direction of the neighing.

His feet made a soft crunching sound in the snow. Yang Guangdi trudged through the snow with difficulty. His eyes gradually adjusted to the nighttime light, and with the reflection off the white snow, he could barely make out the terrain.

Yang Guangdi walked as fast as he could. The wind and snow stung his face with a dull pain. The firelight in the distance flickered unceasingly, making the eastern skyline flicker between light and dark. Yang Guangdi stopped walking and realized another point of light had appeared, further to the east.

He did not know how far Da Huo had carried him, but he could still roughly judge the direction. Da Huo had run west by southwest. The Anqing Cavalry was likely to the southeast, not too far from the current position of the firelight.

The Qing army was tracking the Anqing Cavalry. Chen Rulie would never light a fire at night, so these firelights were very likely lit by those Qing scouts, used to indicate direction for the Qing troops pursuing at night. The animal sounds just now were for making contact.

That is to say, the Anqing Cavalry had very likely already been tracked by the Qing troops from earlier, and follow-up Qing forces were rushing to attack. Judging by the position of the horse neighs just now, it should not be far from here. The firelight marked the direction of the engagement. Yang Guangdi could walk south alone and avoid the night battle, but traveling on foot all alone like that, if he encountered Qing cavalry after daybreak, he would have no means to fight back. Heading toward the firelight might lead him into battle, but it might also allow him to assemble with the main force.

Yang Guangdi headed east without hesitation, advancing cautiously. Occasionally he entered plowed fields, falling down and immediately getting back up. In such pitch-black wilderness, the cavalry's advance speed would not be much faster than his walking pace.

The distance to the firelight gradually decreased, and he could now clearly see that what was burning were wheat-straw stacks and thatched huts, roughly at the edge of a village. The roaring flames illuminated the low, gloomy clouds in the sky.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded ahead. The piercing cry came from the east, howling closer. Yang Guangdi hurriedly crouched down. The sharp whistle stopped; it must have been a whistling arrow that landed in the snow, probably about a hundred paces from him. This kind of whistling arrow was generally used for simple communication at night, but its sound was sharper than those of the Anqing Battalion, clearly belonging to the Qing army.

A clear wolf howl came from ahead to the left, followed by the dense sound of trampling snow gradually approaching. Yang Guangdi pressed his body down, hiding silently in the pitch-black snowfield.

Unfamiliar accents came from a hundred paces away. These men were definitely Qing troops. Yang Guangdi quickly estimated their position. The Qing troops were certain to head toward the firelight. He immediately got up and hurried forward.

The Qing troops carried no torches; the firelight ahead was their direction. Other than one man issuing orders, no other clamor could be heard. Yang Guangdi could tell from the sound of trampling snow that the Qing force was not large, this group numbering roughly a few dozen men, yet their movement in the dark was still very disciplined.

The new firelight was likely indicating a position. The Tartars' forward scouts were closely tailing the Anqing Cavalry, using firelight to mark the target. Those howls were for mutual contact. This newly arrived group of Tartars would join the attack on the Anqing Cavalry.

According to Yang Guangdi's guess, the total number of Qing troops participating in the encirclement would not be large either. These Tartars were all elite troops drawn from various units. Small in scale but very strong in combat power, they were dispersed in different directions searching. Once the Anqing Cavalry's position was confirmed, they used firelight to fix the attack location, used beast sounds and whistling arrows for communication, and coordinated multiple squads to converge and attack from different directions.

At that moment, the wind direction shifted slightly. From the direction of the firelight came the faint sound of shouting and clashing combat. Yang Guangdi knew the standard of the Anqing Cavalry; their individual combat ability was far inferior to the Jurchen Slaves, and this disparity was even greater in night combat. If this squad of Qing troops arrived, the Anqing Cavalry's situation would certainly become even more dire.

The sound of trampling snow was not far. Yang Guangdi observed carefully, even able to see blurry figures on the snowfield. His position was further west. Yang Guangdi stepped onto the edge of a plowed field, which was higher than the adjacent abandoned land, and the snow was deeper there too.

The snow blocked the firelight, leaving this patch of ground in complete darkness. Yang Guangdi stopped here, then forcefully stabbed the heads of both arrows into the dirt, burying the arrowheads completely. After doing this several times, he stuck the Light Arrow into the ground and nocked the heavy arrow onto the bowstring.

The crunching sound of trampling snow approached from ahead to the left. Yang Guangdi felt not a trace of nervousness. He raised his left hand slightly, the arrowhead aimed toward the firelight.

Wind and snow drifted before the firelight ahead. Yang Guangdi waited quietly. Finally, the first Qing soldier appeared before the firelight. The burning wheat-straw stack silhouetted his clear figure, presenting his side and back to Yang Guangdi.

Yang Guangdi raised his bow. The first man was usually a point man. A point man on a night march might be a Bright Armor Tartar, and from the silhouette of his figure at this moment, he could indeed tell the man was armored.

He had only just passed the archery assessment. One of the tests was shooting at a laterally moving target. Although he passed, the examiner told him his shots were far but not deep, meaning he still lacked power. With Yang Guangdi's archery skill, even using a heavy arrow, it would be very difficult to penetrate armor.

Yang Guangdi was on the dark western side, invisible from the Qing troops' position. He did not shoot. Ahead, the figures of the Qing soldiers filed past one after another.

A voice shouted something. Yang Guangdi exerted force with his thumb, using the firelight as his target. His index and middle fingers pressed against his thumb, hooking the Thumb Ring as he slowly drew the bow.

A Qing soldier behind walked into the aimed position. His figure was not so heavily built; he was probably not wearing White Armor. A Triangle Back Banner was stuck into his back. According to intelligence gained from interrogations, he might be a Squad Leader or a elite guard.

"Draw slow, release fast." Yang Guangdi murmured. His left arm stretched out perfectly straight, his right hand gradually tensed, the creaking of the Bamboo Fetus bow right by his ear.

His hand was trembling slightly. Yang Guangdi knew it was from excessive physical exertion. He straightened up forcefully, keeping the bowstring drawn.

The horse's head reached the aiming point. The Qing soldier's figure was about to block the firelight. Yang Guangdi suddenly released the Thumb Ring. The arrow flew swiftly toward the firelight. A miserable cry rang out ahead.

Yang Guangdi swiftly grabbed the Light Arrow. Without caring whether he had hit or not, he immediately turned and fled north.

Several startled cries came from the east side, followed by the continuous, unending twang of bowstrings. The sound of arrows slicing through the air surrounded him. Yang Guangdi hurried away with his head down. In the darkness, he could only hear horses neighing in that plowed field, and the sound of falling.

This group of Qing troops clearly had not expected to be ambushed here. Chaos reigned in this small area, unfamiliar accents shouting. Yang Guangdi hurried north through the darkness, already reaching the tail end of the Qing column.

He could hear horses passing not far away. The Qing troops were still loosing arrows toward that field from just moments ago. Yang Guangdi heard the sound of a bowstring about ten paces away.

Yang Guangdi stopped walking. Facing the direction of the firelight, he could again see several figures. Yang Guangdi shifted two steps, drew his bowstring, and aimed at the nearest Qing soldier. He suddenly paused, turned his bow toward the farthest figure, and with a twang, the Light Arrow left the string.

Another miserable cry, then amid angry shouts, arrows came flying back. Yang Guangdi now had only a small knife left on his person. He turned and headed in the direction the Qing troops had come from.

The whooshing sound of arrows cutting through the wind swept by near and far. Several more miserable cries rang out in succession. Horses neighed as they ran, interspersed with incomprehensible curses and shouts.

Yang Guangdi knew the Qing troops were attacking each other in the darkness. After this bout of chaotic fighting, this small squad's morale was thrown into disarray. Coupled with casualties, the wounded needing care, their combat effectiveness would plummet sharply, and it would delay them for a considerable amount of time. Yang Guangdi had at least helped the Anqing Cavalry a little.

Arrows were still flying behind him. Yang Guangdi's exhaustion vanished completely. He was so excited he wanted to shout out loud a few times.

But this Qing squad was not large in scale; they probably knew each other well and could identify one another just by shouting. Yang Guangdi only had a short time to withdraw. He first walked a stretch in the direction the Qing troops had come from, then advanced toward the northeast, to avoid entering the space between the firelight and the Qing troops and thus exposing his figure.

Yang Guangdi gradually moved away from that disordered Qing squad, walking until he reached the outskirts of a village. The villagers inside had probably all fled; only the sound of sporadic dog barking could be heard.

Amid the driving wind and snow, the faint sound of shouting and clashing combat could be heard. In the distance, whistling arrows still sounded; other Qing squads were likely rushing over. The distant firelight still flickered. Yang Guangdi stopped and observed carefully. It seemed another firelight had been added, indicating that Qing scouts were still tracking the Anqing Cavalry.

Yang Guangdi groped his way along the village outskirts. After a good while, he found a wheat-straw stack. Yang Guangdi hurried over to it, took out the Flint for that set of Lumi Guns, carefully nurtured a small flame, and then ignited the wheat-straw stack.

The fire gradually spread. Yang Guangdi put away the Flint, turned his head to look west toward the direction where Da Huo had fallen. He lingered in place for a moment, roughly judged the direction of Thirty-Li Post, then turned and continued walking east, vanishing into the pitch-black snowy plain.