Chapter 14

The night was deep, the dew heavy, and the fire in the room nearly out.

The house, long neglected due to years of war, could no longer withstand the cold as the fire faded; everyone inside felt the chill and pressed closer toward the pile of firewood.

These dozen Hu Ren had retreated from the battlefield.

Li Shuang learned from them that Er Zhu Rong had won.

He won easily!

The Qihu soldiers under Er Zhu Rong, trained for years by him, were disciplined and fiercely formidable.

After Wan Ziqizhen led his troops in pursuit, Er Zhu Rong ambushed him; his cavalry was slaughtered by more than half.

After drinking a few sips of mutton soup, they gradually recovered, freed from the battlefield’s carnage, and now seemed lively and alert.

Yu Fukan looked at this group of Hu Ren who had just failed in rebellion yet laughed and chatted freely, and asked curiously:

“You followed Wan Ziqizhen in rebellion—now you’ve failed. Aren’t you worried about your future?”

The Hu Ren burst into laughter; some even mocked Yu Fukan for being too timid.

“We’re not worthless Han people—would the court dare kill us?”

At these words, Lou Ang, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, subtly twitched his eyebrows, his face darkening with anger.

Yu Fukan frowned, listened to the Hu Ren’s words, and sighed.

“With discipline so utterly collapsed, how can the realm not descend into chaos?”

“Why do you speak like a Han?”

Someone complained, utterly unconcerned.

“We followed Wan Ziqizhen in rebellion—what crime is it, killing a few one-coin Han? When I served as a Feathered Forest soldier in Luoyang, I burned Zhang Yi’s mansion, beat him to the brink of death, and killed his son—yet the court still dared not touch me! Are the lives of these one-coin Hans worth more than Zhang Yi’s?”

Yu Fukan remained silent.

Seeing Yu Fukan’s silence, the man grew displeased and accused:

“You southerners have read too many Han books—you’ve become just like them. I’ll show you just how worthless these Han are.”

With that, he and a few others stepped outside.

The quiet night suddenly erupted in noise.

These Hu Ren had seized several Han refugees outside—men and women, all half-naked.

“What are you doing?”

Yu Fukan feigned confusion, but the Hu Ren inside laughed.

The Hu Ren inside caged the captured Han refugees like dogs, forcing them to crawl on the ground, whimpering; if they crawled too slowly, they were whipped. Some even stripped the women’s clothes, intending to force them to perform publicly with the men…

The cries and pleas only made the Hu Ren laugh louder.

“Enough!”

Yu Fukan shouted, filling the room with a chilling aura.

The dozen Hu Ren sensed the shift, felt something was wrong, and rose at once, clustering together, hands gripping their swords.

The Han refugees, who had been crouching on the floor, seized the moment and fled.

“What are you trying to do!”

The Hu Ren glared at Yu Fukan, warning him.

At this moment, Lou Ang, who had said nothing until now, rose with his spear in hand.

But his attention was not on Yu Fukan or the dozen Hu Ren—he looked toward Li Shuang in the corner.

“What do you make of tonight’s affair?”

“A bit troublesome.”

Li Shuang’s reply made Lou Ang laugh.

When he finished laughing, he raised his hand and thrust his spear forward.

A flash of cold light came first, then the spear shot forth like a dragon.

The Hu Ren at the front had no time to react—his neck opened into a bloody hole.

In the midst of laughter, he took a life.

“I am Gao Ang of the Bohai Gao clan—when you meet the King of Hell, don’t forget my name!”

Gao Ang withdrew his spear, stared at the fallen Hu Ren, and spoke coldly.

No sooner had he spoken than the Hu Ren’s body crashed to the ground.

The other Hu Ren, seeing this, surged with bloodlust and roared.

“Kill!”

The dozen Hu Ren charged at Gao Ang—he held his spear across his body, let out a deep roar like the toll of an ancient temple bell, and with arms thick as old tree trunks, blocked them all.

In the stalemate, arrows flew from the side.

Gao Ang looked at the archer and praised:

“Excellent aim—who are you, brother?”

“Yang Kan of the Tai’an Yang clan!”

Yang Kan’s ever-present box had already been opened—inside lay a golden-threaded hard bow.

The string sang, the arrow flew, and the Hu Ren fell with each shot.

…

Hou Jing, who had been sharpening his blade outside, heard the commotion inside and immediately burst in with his sword drawn.

Swinging two long blades, he charged like a madman, shouting:

“Dog Hu Ren—die, old man!”

But by the time Hou Jing entered, the battle was nearly over.

Dozens of Hu Ren lay on the ground, most already silent.

Seeing this, Hou Jing quickly dropped his blades and rushed to Li Shuang’s side, concerned.

“My lord, are you unharmed? Your servant arrived too late!”

Li Shuang pushed Hou Jing aside.

“What could possibly happen to me?”

Li Shuang walked to a Hu Ren still barely alive, wiped his crossblade on the man’s body, then sheathed his sword.

“Judging by your gear, you’re no ordinary soldier—speak: what’s your connection to Wan Ziqizhen?”

The dying Hu Ren glared hatefully at the four men in the room and cursed:

“We are the personal attendants of Mu Zi. We were sent to scout. Don’t rejoice—thousand iron cavalry are coming behind us, and they’ll cut off your heads!”

Li Shuang looked up at Yang Kan and Gao Ang.

“I told you it’d be troublesome.”

Yang Kan smiled faintly; Gao Ang shrugged indifferently.

Hou Jing, however, looked worried.

“Er Zhu’s useless fools let Wan Ziqizhen escape. Even defeated, he still has hundreds of cavalry. We’re outnumbered—shouldn’t we retreat for now?”

“We can leave, but these refugees can’t run far.”

Li Shuang chuckled, looking at Yang Kan and Gao Ang.

“Brothers, what do you say?”

If they left, Wan Ziqizhen’s routed troops would arrive, see the dead attendants, and in fury slaughter the nearby refugees.

Li Shuang’s meaning was clear: they had acted together, so the trouble must be solved together.

Gao Ang wiped his spearhead and said proudly:

“I don’t work with nameless men—state your name first!”

“Li Shuang, originally from Guanzhong.”

Gao Ang paused thoughtfully, then asked:

“The bandit Li Shuang who defeated Wo Hu?”

“Not to hide it, brother—I now serve the court.”

Gao Ang knew full well what Li Shuang had done these past days—he burst out laughing.

“Interesting. So—what’s your plan?”

“To kill Wan Ziqizhen, we need more than just us—we need the Han refugees outside!”

Yang Kan shook his head, unconvinced.

“Those outside are already terrified of the Hu Ren—they won’t be of any use.”

Li Shuang smiled.

“Not necessarily.”

Yang Kan raised an eyebrow and asked:

“How do you intend to do it?”

“Capture the leader to capture the bandits!”