Chapter 294: Zhang Jiani

At the same time, Zhang Jiani hadn't expected Pang Wenguang to target her first. She clenched her lips, brows slightly furrowed, fixed her gaze on the great knife in his hands, gritted her teeth, and coldly said: "You have no right to fight my husband, Pang Wenguang—die!"

Before her words ended, she struck with lightning speed, her short sword flashing like a streak of white light straight toward Pang Wenguang's face—this thrust was swift, brutal, precise, its tip aimed squarely at his life.

Pang Wenguang hadn't anticipated such swift action from this frail woman; his face flashed with shock, and he hastily raised his great knife to block. A deafening clang rang out as their weapons clashed—Zhang Jiani was thrown back several steps by the recoil, barely keeping her footing.

Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo's expressions changed—they hadn't expected Zhang Jiani to fall behind after just the first exchange.

"Clearly a woman—let your husband come die instead!" Pang Wenguang, seeing his advantage, swung another blade at Zhang Jiani.

"Enough talk—" Zhang Jiani couldn't dodge in time; her voice cut off abruptly!

"Jiani!" Jiang Mingyu cried out in alarm, stepping forward—only for Tukesiluo to grip his arm and whisper: "Brother, watch. I've got this."

He knew his wife too well—if he intervened now, she'd fly into an even fiercer rage. Only by letting her fight her fill could Tukesiluo find his opening...

Jiang Mingyu, stunned, could only wait. He trusted Tukesiluo's judgment—yet prayed Zhang Jiani wouldn't be harmed.

The battle between them had now reached a stalemate. Though at a disadvantage, Zhang Jiani still held on, teetering on the edge of life and death. Pang Wenguang showed no mercy, seeking only a swift end.

Tukesiluo, standing aside watching, made no move to assist. He knew his wife too well—intervening now would only make her rage uncontrollably. Only after she'd vented her fury could he act...

Jiang Mingyu watched them clash again, his heart tightening with worry. Was this woman truly reckless—or did she have a hidden advantage? He could only hope Tukesiluo wouldn't let Zhang Jiani suffer too badly...

Their second clash was fiercer than the first.

Pang Wenguang swung his blade in a sweeping arc, its edge blazing, cutting through the air like a storm. Zhang Jiani danced lightly, her form elusive—but still, she was shoved back several steps, her face growing paler.

Her sword techniques began to falter; her speed slowed. Pang Wenguang's eyes gleamed—he pressed forward with a flurry of strikes, forcing Zhang Jiani into retreat.

At that moment, Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo both rose, gripping their weapon hilts tightly.

Just as Zhang Jiani was about to collapse, she rolled with the momentum, sliding between Pang Wenguang's legs, flipping over to land several zhang away.

"Close call!" Jiang Mingyu exhaled inwardly. Though battered, Zhang Jiani had survived.

Pang Wenguang sneered, striding toward Zhang Jiani. His killing intent was stronger now.

Zhang Jiani's face was deathly pale, yet she stood firm, proud and unyielding. She knew—this was the fight for life or death.

Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo clenched their fists silently. They both realized: Zhang Jiani's odds were grim.

Seeing Pang Wenguang's ferocity, the soldiers on the city wall erupted in cheers.

"Good! Good! Good!" Their shouts rose in waves, boosting morale, rallying behind their city's strongest commander.

The deputy commander, Yu Feng, left in charge, leapt up in excitement, roaring: "Beat the drums! Rally for our great Commander Pang!" The thunderous beat of war drums erupted, overwhelming and grand.

The drumming seemed to swell Pang Wenguang's spirit. His eyes blazed, his chest swelled, radiating an aura of dominating might—like a beast ruling the heavens.

He pointed at the slender woman before him, sneering, eyes brimming with mockery: "A mere woman dares challenge me? This blade today will send you to your grave!"

Before his words ended, he leapt into the air, hurling his long blade with a piercing whistle—so fast the eye could not track it. The blade, razor-sharp, aimed straight for Zhang Jiani's chest.

Facing this life-or-death strike, Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo's hearts tightened. Zhang Jiani's face was ashen—they assumed she had reached her limit.

Jiang Mingyu turned to Tukesiluo, face grave: "Be ready—if she can't hold, move in immediately!"

But no sooner had he spoken than Tukesiluo smiled calmly: "Your Majesty, rest assured—I'll act when the time comes."

Jiang Mingyu was stunned. Was Pang Wenguang's strike truly not unstoppable? Why was Tukesiluo so calm? Was there some hidden strategy in this duel?

As Jiang Mingyu struggled to understand, the murderous Pang Wenguang reached Zhang Jiani. He raised his blade high, ready to deliver the fatal blow—when suddenly, a cold smile flickered across Zhang Jiani's lips.

Jiang Mingyu's vision blurred—he sensed the battle's tide was not as grim as it seemed...

Pang Wenguang's blade slashed down with terrifying speed, its edge cutting the air—about to strike Zhang Jiani's shoulder.

At the last instant, Zhang Jiani's feet sank slightly, her waist twisted with elastic grace, evading the killing blow.

Her pale face and labored breath revealed how much energy this evasion cost her.

But Jiang Mingyu, watching closely, noticed her posture was now far smoother than before.

Pang Wenguang swung another massive horizontal slash—Zhang Jiani flicked her sleeve, using a swift grappling technique to neutralize the force. Her move was flawless, fluid as flowing clouds—no trace of earlier desperation.

Pang Wenguang was stunned—he never imagined Zhang Jiani, moments ago on the verge of collapse, still possessed such deep internal power!

At that moment, Jiang Mingyu suddenly recalled Tukesiluo's calm smile—there had been a hidden plan!

Zhang Jiani hadn't used her full strength. From the start, she'd feigned weakness to lure Pang Wenguang into complacency!

Now, the outcome was clear. Pang Wenguang's face twisted in shock; his strikes grew fiercer—but Zhang Jiani now held the upper hand, effortlessly dismantling every attack.

Finally, after a dazzling flourish of swordplay, Zhang Jiani lightly extended her blade—pointing it at Pang Wenguang's throat.

A soft *clang* rang out as her wrist flicked, the sword spinning—Pang Wenguang's face, still frozen in shock and disbelief, flew upward with a spray of blood, his head tumbling into the dust.

The soldiers on the wall and Deputy Commander Yu Feng gaped, eyes wide with disbelief.

How had that woman, so thoroughly dominated just moments ago, suddenly achieved overwhelming victory without warning? This sudden reversal was utterly unforeseen.

Zhang Jiani stood tall, her blood-splattered sword angled toward the sky, its cold gleam reflecting her expressionless face. Her deep eyes held only indifference as she whispered: "You lack even the right to fight my husband."

The cold, cruel tone sent shivers through the wall's defenders—no one dared meet the gaze of this beautiful, deadly swordswoman.

Meanwhile, Li Goudan and Fang Hang raised their blades and roared: "Attack!"—leading 150, 00 troops surging forward like a tidal wave, instantly surrounding Pang Wenguang's remaining 10, 00 men.

Jiang Mingyu raised his long sword, brows furrowed, and bellowed: "Pang Wenguang has committed atrocities, forcing you into conscription! Today, our army surrounds the city—Pang Wenguang is dead. Surrender, and you live!"

Pang Wenguang's soldiers exchanged glances, seeing despair in each other's eyes—without him, resistance meant certain death. The warriors finally dropped their weapons, slowly raising their hands in surrender.

Jiang Mingyu nodded in satisfaction, his expression softening slightly: "Good. Tukesiluo, guard them all. We'll decide their fate after the city falls."

He then looked up at the wall, sword pointing at Deputy Commander Yu Feng, and roared: "Now—do you still dare fight my army to the death?!"

Before his words ended, Li Goudan and Fang Hang gave the order—tens of thousands of archers raised their bows, arrows gleaming with lethal cold, aimed squarely at the trembling defenders on the wall.