Chapter 24: A Desperate Escape

Poetry is a vessel for the catharsis of human emotion. This poem, "Crossing the Frontier" by Wang Changling, uses simple, unadorned language to sketch the tragic grandeur of the border battlefields, while voicing the common people’s yearning for a peaceful life. These four lines echoed the deepest sentiments of every soldier in the Qin army.

These verses were easily understood. After Chen Ying chanted them in a booming voice, the Tang soldiers followed suit, roaring in unison: "The moon of Qin, the pass of Han, the long march of ten thousand miles, yet none return. If only the Flying General of Longcheng were here, he would not let the Hu cavalry cross the Yin Mountains."

From the moment they received orders to reinforce Lingzhou, every soldier of the Right Guard had prepared themselves for the prospect of being wrapped in a horse hide upon their death. Yet, having secured victory after victory, their momentum was unstoppable. As they roared these lines, it was as if a surge of adrenaline had been injected into their very veins.

"If only the Flying General of Longcheng were here, he would not let the Hu cavalry cross the Yin Mountains!" As the soldiers sang, they slowly converged behind Chen Ying, forming a semi-circular formation resembling a new moon.

Anyone familiar with military tactics could see at a glance that this was a crescent formation taking shape. The only difference was that Luo Shixin and Zhang Shigui had placed their most elite warriors at the two tips of the crescent. The cavalry at the very center guarded Chen Ying, their hooked sickle-spears gleaming with lethal brilliance.

The hooked sickle-spear did not belong to this era, but because of Chen Ying, it had begun to taste blood on the battlefield. Its debut was as striking as it was formidable.

"The moon of Qin, the pass of Han, the long march of ten thousand miles, yet none return!"

The sound of the song drifted out from within Lingzhou City, and the west gate slowly creaked open. Leading the way were over two hundred snow sledges equipped with side panels. Behind them, the main force of the Tang infantry poured out like a rising tide.

Gazing at Chen Ying’s command banner, which snapped and fluttered in the wind, Sili Fushe felt his lips go dry, and hesitation took root in his heart.

"Should we fight to the death?" Instinctively, Sili Fushe glanced toward Yiwuzhenmo. He desperately wanted to rally Yiwuzhenmo’s troops for a final stand against Chen Ying, but Yiwuzhenmo was already slowly retreating.

Retreat was inevitable, for a massive cavalry force had appeared to the south of Lingzhou. Numbering roughly six or seven thousand, Sili Fushe could see clearly that these were the former subordinates who had surrendered to the Tang at Boguli City. At their head was none other than Yuguni.

"Traitor!" Sili Fushe’s eyes turned bloodshot, and he roared frantically, "Charge! Charge! Trample them into the dirt!"

However, when the order was given, the Turkic soldiers did not attack; instead, they retreated in unison.

If the setback at Hongshan Fort had been a mere frustration for Bulugen, the fall of Boguli City had shattered their morale. Yet, watching nearly ten thousand Tuojie cavalrymen get decimated in a single engagement by fewer than nine hundred Tang horsemen had instilled a fear of the Tang army deep into the very marrow of Bulugen and his men.

The entire Turkic force, over thirty thousand strong, stood devoid of all fighting spirit.

In truth, when Chen Ying first led his troops north to Lingzhou, Yuguni had seen that Boguli City was guarded by only two Tang regiments—a mere six hundred men. Realizing the Tang forces were few, he had betrayed the Turks and defected to the Tang, though he remained deeply anxious about the future of his tribe.

For the Turks, defecting or rebelling was a simple calculation: if the profit was sufficient, one could defect; if the profit was sufficient, one could rebel. Initially, Yuguni had found the "sorcery" of the Tang army unfathomable, but through probing conversations, he realized these "sorcerers" held very low status, were treated with contempt by common soldiers, and lived miserable lives. Thus, he grew deeply skeptical of the Tang army’s magic.

He had marched from Boguli City to Lingzhou with a contingency plan: if the Tang were defeated, he would kill the Tang soldiers he had brought with him and offer their heads to the Turks as a token of his renewed loyalty.

When he arrived outside Lingzhou and saw Sili Fushe ordering the Tuojie cavalry to attack, he prepared for both outcomes. If the Tang lost, he would turn on them; if they won, he would commit fully to their side.

The result was clear. Chen Ying had won, and he had won in a terrifying fashion. Nine hundred against nearly ten thousand—a ten-fold disadvantage—and he had routed the Tuojie cavalry in a mere fifteen minutes. Yuguni knew the Tuojie cavalry were poorly equipped, but in all their previous campaigns against the Sui, they had relied on these men; even against the elite Xiaoguo Army of the Sui, the Tuojie cavalry could hold their own at two-to-one odds and crush them at three-to-one.

Without comparison, there is no pain. The disparity was stark.

"To think such a powerful army exists in this world!" Yuguni suddenly remarked, "It seems the legends of our ancestors were true."

During the Xiongnu era, a legend had circulated among the northern tribes: the Han cavalry were so formidable that one Han soldier was worth five of the Hu, and without a five-fold numerical advantage, one dared not face them. Even with such odds, defeat was more common than victory.

Every battlefield has its unique conditions. The success of the nine hundred Tang horsemen was due to various factors, such as the debut of the hooked sickle-spear. In a cavalry charge, length was strength, and the twelve-foot spears decimated the curved blades of the Turks. But the soldiers and laborers did not care for technicalities—they only believed what their eyes had shown them.

At that moment, the Tang soldiers and laborers brought by Yuguni roared: "Long live the Great Tang! Long live the General!"

"Long live the Great Tang! Long live the General!"

Nearly ten thousand men—six or seven thousand surrendered Turks, two thousand Tang laborers, and six hundred Tang soldiers—shouted in unison: "Long live the Great Tang! Long live the General!"

Yuguni calculated in his heart: if nine hundred Tang cavalry had such power, what of nine thousand? Ninety thousand? Would they not be invincible? He did not doubt the Tang could raise such an army. He realized that even if the entire Turkic force pressed their advantage, the Turks would never act with a single mind, meaning their chances of victory were virtually zero.

"Kill the enemy! Help the Great Tang kill the enemy!" Yuguni whispered to his trusted lieutenants.

"Charge! Help our army kill the enemy!"

Nearly ten thousand infantry and cavalry surged forward with earth-shattering momentum.

Chen Ying was momentarily stunned. He could hardly process the scene. When had he ever received such overwhelming support? But after a brief moment of shock, he tightened his grip on his horse’s flanks and charged toward the Turkic main force.

The nine hundred Tang cavalry did not strike at Sili Fushe, but instead lunged straight at Yiwuzhenmo. Acting as the spearhead, Chen Ying led Yuguni’s forces in a massive, sweeping charge into the loosening Turkic ranks.

Seeing this, Yiwuzhenmo was furious. Had he known Chinese, he would surely have cursed, "Damn it!"

*I didn't attack you! Why are you singling me out? Do you think I'm easy to bully?*

Suddenly, the situation on the battlefield shifted. Yuguni and the surrendered Turkic cavalry, who had been at the rear, surged forward to the front.

Just as Chen Ying worried that Yuguni might falter, a cheer erupted across the field.

"Victory! We’ve won!"

Chen Ying realized that Yiwuzhenmo’s banner was gone.

It turned out that Yuguni, having marched north with the Tang, was desperate to atone. Fearing retribution for his earlier treachery, he knew that after this battle, his men would rather bury themselves in a pit than defy the Tang again. To live, he had to redeem himself.

Yuguni had surged forward, and seeing Yiwuzhenmo’s banner only a few hundred paces away, he sheathed his weapons, grabbed his lasso, and snared the standard. With a sharp turn of his horse and the momentum of the charge, he pulled the banner down.

Deprived of their leader’s standard, the Turks were gripped by panic. Believing Yiwuzhenmo was dead, their will to fight evaporated. Crying out in terror, they scattered and fled for their lives.