Chapter 303: Close the Gate, Close the Gate

As the horse moved, its body shuddered. Blood shot violently from the spot where the arrow had struck. Galloping like this, the horse's blood flow accelerated throughout its body; any wound would cause blood to gush out faster, and it could no longer pick up speed.

The two archers both revealed cold sneers. They drew their bows and nocked arrows, then loosed them at the household guards and able-bodied commoners behind Wang Zhaojing.

Everyone had the courage to face death, but with arrows whistling toward them, they could not simply ignore them and charge forward. They all dodged, and their speed slowed at once.

From horseback, Wang Zhaojing could see even more clearly the men inside the outer city gate tunnel shouting as they struggled to lift the gate bar. The roars from outside grew even wilder.

"Eldest Brother, brothers..." Wang Zhaojing did not know why he shouted these two words. He roared them out, flipped his wrist, and fiercely stabbed his long sword into the horse's rump.

The already flagging mount, stung by the intense pain, charged forward with a wild neigh, heedless of everything, straight ahead!

The two archers had not expected the man's horse to keep charging forward after being struck by an arrow. After a moment of shock, they hurriedly drew their bows and nocked arrows, shooting together at Wang Zhaojing.

Wang Zhaojing pressed his upper body flat against the horse's back, one hand yanking the reins, the other simply using his sword to slash the horse's rump. Spurred by the pain, his mount ran faster and faster. Blood seemed to spray from the arrow wound in the horse's neck; it was clearly not long for this world.

With a "swish," Wang Zhaojing jerked his face aside. A searing, burning pain flared on his cheekbone — likely grazed by an arrow flying past. Wang Zhaojing could not afford to care about any of this. He now held his sword in a forward grip; the two archers were right before his eyes.

The horse charged too fast. After loosing their arrows, the two archers had no time to dodge. One man leaped aside; the other turned in panic. Wang Zhaojing raised his long sword and brought it cleaving down. Half the turning man's neck was split open, killing him instantly. The other archer lay prone on the ground. He scrambled up, but before he could act, two long spears had already pierced through his body.

Wang Zhaojing's mount continued its mad charge forward, crashing directly into the gate tunnel. The massive gate bar was nearly lifted. The thick city gates shuddered repeatedly from the pounding outside. Through the gate, everyone was roaring with excitement.

"A horse!" Someone spotted the charging, frenzied horse and screamed shrilly. The excited roars turned into terrified shouts. The men lifting the gate bar all let go; some went to grab their weapons.

But it was already too late. The horse, driven wild, could not brake its speed. Neighing, it simply crashed straight into them. The three men in front had not even raised their weapons before the horse plowed into them. Two were sent flying directly. The man in the middle was slammed heavily against the gate; who knew how many bones in his upper body were shattered. Foaming blood at the mouth, he could not survive. The horse, too, collapsed limply.

In the very instant the horse crashed forward, Wang Zhaojing, his feet leaving the stirrups, threw himself from the horse's back. His long sword already hurled aside, he seized a man as he pounced. The two of them, carried by the immense momentum, tumbled and rolled across the ground.

The horse slammed into the city gate. The men lifting the gate bar scattered in all directions to dodge. The just-raised gate bar crashed heavily back into its slot. Someone outside bellowed: "What's going on? Open the gate, hurry and open the gate!"

The men who had dodged scrambled to their feet one after another. Before they could act, Wang Zhaojing, drenched in blood, also stood up. The man he had tackled had several large holes gouged in his chest by a dagger. Wang Zhaojing did not pause after rising. With a furious roar, he lunged at the nearest man. That man had just raised his blade when Wang Zhaojing stabbed his dagger into his neck. Wang Zhaojing grabbed the corpse and shoved it violently forward, retreated two steps, picked up his narrow-bladed long sword, and then charged again!

"Kill him, quickly! Open the gate!" The men in the gate tunnel roared repeatedly. The two leaders, one wielding a pudao and the other a goose-quill saber, strode forward to meet him. Wang Zhaojing, narrow-bladed long sword in one hand and dagger in the other, charged recklessly to meet them. Just as the two sides closed in, Wang Zhaojing's body suddenly crouched and curled low, then explosively straightened and lunged forward. His entire body was like a bow, and the sword in his hand was the arrow!

The man with the pudao had not expected Wang Zhaojing to burst forth with such speed. His thrust with the pudao struck empty air. He could only watch helplessly as the opponent's long sword aimed for his throat. He barely had time to turn his head before his throat was slit open.

The other man's goose-quill saber had already chopped down. Wang Zhaojing met it with his dagger. The large saber against the short dagger — the dagger was simply knocked flying. Yet after this chop, the saber needed a split second to be withdrawn. That split second was all Wang Zhaojing needed. Pivoting on his left foot, his right foot pushing off the ground, he swung his long sword upward in a rising slash. The chest of the man wielding the goose-quill saber was ripped open with a foot-long bloody gash. He collapsed to his knees and fell dead.

No one had expected Wang Zhaojing to be so fierce and valiant. The men who had just encircled him with weapons instinctively retreated a step. Wang Zhaojing let out a long breath, bent down to pick up his dagger, and raised his head to look at the enemies before him. Sixteen enemies remained, armed with pudao, goose-quill sabers, and short axes.

Wang Zhaojing subconsciously licked his lips. Salty and metallic — whose blood it was, he did not know. He felt no disgust. At this moment, all he wanted was to kill the enemy!

"Third and Fourth, go stop him! The rest of you, follow me and open the gate!" A man barked out. Two men wielding pudao immediately stepped forward. The others turned to lift the gate bar.

Wang Zhaojing bent his body, his long sword pointing forward. The two men advancing toward him instantly froze in their movements. Wang Zhaojing raised his left hand and hurled it violently. The dagger flew from his hand and stabbed directly into the eye socket of the man on the left. That man collapsed with a shriek. Wang Zhaojing roared and charged forward with his sword.

Seeing his comrade die, the other man also bellowed madly and thrust his pudao straight at him. Wang Zhaojing shifted his body aside. Long sword and pudao clashed and glanced off each other. He stepped forward, his wrist twisting, just about to strike — when his foot slipped on a pool of blood. His entire body lost balance, and he began to fall toward the ground.

The man's face twisted into a savage, excited grin. He raised his pudao to chop down, but his motion was only half-complete when a long spear stabbed over. Taking advantage of the wide-open gap in the man's chest and abdomen, the spear plunged directly into his chest. The household guards from behind had arrived!

"Get up on the wall! Take back the windlass and drop the iron portcullis!" Wang Zhaojing roared. Immediately, some militia members ran toward the top of the wall. The household guards, wielding their long spears, had already charged forward.

But at that very moment, the gate bar crashed to the ground with a boom. The heavy city gates slowly began to swing inward. The men who had been moving the gate bar were all howling and laughing madly. Wang Zhaojing could already see the refugees outside, howling just as wildly — or perhaps they were not refugees, every face twisted with savage excitement.

In that instant, Wang Zhaojing's mind went blank. But then he immediately picked up the pudao that had just fallen and charged forward with a frenzied roar. Right into the gap between the opening gates, he stabbed recklessly. The household guards had already rushed to the front, but when they saw the gates opening, their movements also paused for a moment. Seeing Wang Zhaojing advance, they too charged forward with furious shouts. The men in the gate tunnel offered little resistance; all were stabbed to death. Even as they died, they still shouted: "Just wait to be hacked to pieces!"

The foremost man outside, holding a sharpened wooden stave, had just stepped forward when the chopping pudao cleaved off half his neck. His corpse could not even fall backward — someone behind pushed it forward, trying to squeeze in after it. Wang Zhaojing retreated half a step to let the corpse pass, then jabbed wildly forward with his pudao without a care. Two more men were stabbed and killed. Sharpened wooden staves also thrust inward, some even striking Wang Zhaojing's body, but they were blocked by the chainmail he wore.

"Rebel scum! Rebel scum!" Years of tempering his body and experiencing countless bloody battles meant that even in this berserk state, Wang Zhaojing's combat prowess and lethality were beyond what the refugees outside, even their able-bodied core members, could match. He bellowed as he hacked and killed.

But there were too many people outside. Even with the drawbridge limiting their numbers, several hundred people were still crammed between the outer city gate and the drawbridge. They pushed inward with desperate effort, and the gate was slowly forced open wider.

Wang Zhaojing's pudao slashed left and killed right. His voice hoarse, he shouted: "Close the gate! Close the gate!"

On both sides, the household guards and militia who had already cleared out the enemy strained with all their might to push the gates from the inside, trying to shut them. Both sides shouted and roared in a contest of strength, fighting to the death without yielding an inch at the opening gap.

The refugees outside were more numerous. The refugees outside were more frenzied. More men had not yet arrived inside the outer gate tunnel. Wang Zhaojing fought on, and the household guards behind him followed up, stabbing wildly with their long spears. Corpse after corpse collapsed in front of the gate, yet the gap was still being forced wider and wider.

The gate had been opened wide enough for four men to stand side by side. Wang Zhaojing still held his ground with his pudao, refusing to retreat. Behind him, several household guards gritted their teeth and continued stabbing with their long spears. Yet everyone felt despair. The gate was being forced open wider and wider; they could no longer hold it.

"Mommy!" Someone could not hold on any longer. No longer pushing against the gate from behind, he turned and fled, wailing.

"Hold fast! If we can't hold, Xuzhou City is finished! I..." Wang Zhaojing shouted, but his breath caught, and he broke into violent coughing. His movements slowed by half a beat, and a sharpened wooden stave slammed heavily into his chest. The tip of the stave was blocked by his chainmail, but even so, the blow sent Wang Zhaojing stumbling backward. The refugees surged forward to follow up, but were forced back by the household guards behind him. The gate was pushed open a little wider!

"Young Master Wang, let's go! We'll protect everyone and leave through the East Gate. There's still time!" Someone shouted while continuing to stab.

At this moment, Wang Zhaojing felt that even breathing was painful. All strength had drained from his body. He opened his mouth to speak but could not utter a word. Yet he still gritted his teeth, forced himself to stand, and picked up the pudao again.

"Kill! Kill!" His voice was utterly hoarse; without listening carefully, it was hard to make out.

He had been holding himself taut the entire time. Now, having paused, he immediately felt he could not hold on. Wang Zhaojing stood and stepped forward, but his feet stumbled. He hurriedly used the blade to prop up his body.

The howls, shouts, and mad roars outside still shook the heavens and earth. Were the refugees about to pour in?

He had said he would focus on his studies and pursue the imperial examinations, distancing himself from the bloodshed of the jianghu, walking the path of civil service. He had gradually drifted apart from his sworn brothers who had shared life and death with him. Had he chosen the right path?

Wang Zhaojing felt they truly could not hold. Countless wild thoughts filled his mind. No, something was off. The shouts and cries from outside the city were not right. The city gate was slowly closing. Had they held?