Jinting Han people

Before Liu Xian gave the order, right behind him, beneath the walls of Yi'an, tens of thousands of Han soldiers were hiding inside the barbican awaiting command.

They had been waiting for a long time. Before the incessant sounds of battle raged outside the city walls, the soldiers had already quietly gathered here as the Jin army arrayed themselves before the palisade. The weather was cold; it had rained just yesterday, and now the ground was frozen solid. A gust of wind made the soldiers feel as if they were being frozen solid, but in order to be ready for battle at any moment, they dared not remove their heavy armor while waiting.

However, after observing the battlefield situation for a while, Liu Xian knew early on that it wasn't their turn to participate yet. So he arranged for the civilians in the city to help them build fires to keep warm and prepared hot egg drop soup for lunch. While the Jin soldiers at the front were exhausted and the Jin soldiers in the rear were freezing, the Han soldiers in the city were well-fed and watered. This was the true meaning of waiting in comfort for the enemy to tire themselves out.

The laborers inside the city cautiously observed the Han soldiers. Although they had witnessed the discipline of the Han army before, this was their first time experiencing warfare so closely, and frankly, it was very different from what they had imagined. In their minds, a royal army consisted either of people dressed in magnificent armor and exuding an imposing aura, or of ugly and ferocious appearances—only such people could be considered powerful. But these Han soldiers were mostly dressed very simply, carrying ring-pommel swords or bows and arrows, looking like ordinary people, yet showing no signs of killing intent.

This inevitably caused resentment among the city's inhabitants. As they boiled water, they listened to the deafening shouts of battle outside, and couldn't help but worry about their future. What would they do if they lost? However, some disagreed. For example, the refugee general Che Yu comforted the crowd, saying, "You only judge by appearances. You must know that in battle, remaining completely calm and collected is the highest level of composure. What's the use of comparing looks? Only by killing many people can one achieve such composure!"

After saying this, a group of men went to deliver food to the Han army. One of them was carrying a basin of hot water when he accidentally spilled some on the ground. The hot water hissed and startled a nearby horse with an empty saddle. The horse struggled and broke free of its reins, thrashing about as if about to run. The man was terrified, but the surrounding soldiers remained calm. A young man grabbed the horse's mane, twisted its head sharply, and quickly brought the horse back to its feet, making it as docile as a kitten.

This man was none other than Mao Bao. He smiled at the laborers, then turned around and gathered the reins, retying them. His skillful movements amazed the people nearby, who immediately changed their attitude and whispered in admiration, "Even a random young man in the Han King's army has such abilities. Victory will be a piece of cake!"

Mao Bao heard all this and couldn't help but smile again. The common people had seen too little war, so they were uneasy. But most of the Han soldiers had come from mountains of corpses and seas of blood; they were already used to it.

Experience had taught the Han soldiers that death was always terrifying, but panic was even more terrifying. When people became accustomed to facing death and prepared for it with a calm attitude, death was not so difficult to deal with. Therefore, they were neither excited nor complacent; they simply waited calmly in the city. Of course, part of their confidence stemmed from the soldiers' belief that their commander had already made the best choice for them.

In contrast, the Han army officers were more tense. Because they could not stop thinking and still needed to make their own judgments in the battle, some of them paced back and forth with their hands behind their backs, their eyes revealing a hint of impatience.

Mao Bao, however, remained much calmer. Back in his camp, he drank soup with his men. But he didn't rush to drink; instead, he warmed his hands with the residual heat of the soup before slowly sipping. He told his men, "Check your boots carefully. Replace any that are worn out. Don't let them break down and prevent His Highness from being unable to run when he goes into battle."

This is Mao Bao's experience from several years of combat: the most important equipment on the battlefield isn't actually armor or helmet, but a good pair of boots. On the battlefield, arrows and stones fly, swords clash, and injuries are inevitable. However, as long as the injury isn't fatal and the legs can still move, one can regroup and fight again. But once the boots are broken, and one's feet are cut or frostbitten on the battlefield, the fate of someone with nowhere to go is the most tragic.

Although he was young, he was already a veteran. Coupled with his great courage and superb martial arts skills, he was highly respected and supported by his subordinates. The soldiers privately said that with his experience and abilities, and being so young, he would surely become a pillar of the nation, a high-ranking official.

After inspecting the area again and seeing that his men were all ready and there were no oversights, Mao Bao leaned against his mount and closed his eyes for a while. Just when everyone thought he had fallen asleep, the bugle and drums sounded from the wall. He immediately opened his eyes, nimbly mounted his horse, and then sternly shouted at his men, "We are the vanguard, follow me!"

So, the moment the gates of the barbican slowly opened, he took the lead, the first to emerge from the cracks in the gates of Yi'an City. He was then surprised to find that the Jin army's formation before him was a complete mess. The Jin soldiers under Zhu Si, who had just rotated out, were already exhausted, and their formation was completely loose, blocking the advance of Wang You's troops. Wang You's soldiers were forced to retreat to the west, but the battle line of the palisade was too narrow, and there was no way to avoid it. In the end, the two armies became entangled and intertwined, like a clump of willow catkins stuck to a tree trunk, impossible to cut or untangle.

In that instant, their actions were interrupted, the cause being the sudden sound of the Han army's bugles. Startled by the abrupt drumbeats from the north, the Jin soldiers paused briefly. Initially bewildered, they didn't understand what was happening, then belatedly tried to piece together their thoughts, discerning the source of the bugles, the change in the situation, and their own location. Then they saw the Han army's city gates wide open, and Han soldiers surging forth like a tide.

Having fought for so many years, this was the first time Mao Bao had encountered such a situation. It wasn't because of the chaos, but because he realized that, at least within the palisade, the outcome was already clear. With just one easy charge, these Jin soldiers would retreat from the palisade like an avalanche. The enemy's fatigue and weakness were already written on their faces, so there was no need for any hesitation.

In fact, it wasn't just him; all the Han soldiers who followed him into battle, as well as the Jin soldiers who were changing formations, realized this. The timing of Liu Xian's attack was beyond perfect; it was as if, at the moment the two armies met, a flash of inspiration struck everyone, and they all realized which side would emerge victorious.

After this brief pause, Mao Bao was naturally the first to react. Even someone as composed as him could hardly contain his excitement. He glanced behind him, shouted, drew his sword, and without giving any further detailed orders, spurred his horse forward, charging towards the vanguard of the Jin army. No further communication was needed; his trusted cavalry and soldiers in the rear understood their commander's intentions perfectly. Filled with the excitement and elation of victory, they charged forward with all their might. And it wasn't just Mao Bao's unit; the Han army charging from the rear moved almost without pause, rushing out like a whirlwind. The hundreds of banners they carried, black with crimson "Han" characters embroidered on them, fluttered in the westerly wind, their light like fire, appearing like a fiery tide rushing towards them in the dim sky.

The Han army's footsteps kicked up dry grass and dust, creating a thunderous rumble on the ground. The hooves of the horses in front were like arrows released from a bow, and the footsteps behind rose and fell like drumbeats, truly incredibly fast. In contrast to the Han army's conserved strength, Zhu Si's troops were already exhausted. The Jin soldiers were so tired that they could barely walk, let alone fight. Seeing the Han army charging towards them with such speed, they had no desire to fight them anymore. All other thoughts in their minds were swept away, leaving only the word "escape."

Before the two armies even made contact, in an instant, the vanguard of the Jin army, like a dam breached by a flood or a snow-capped mountain collapsing under a deafening roar, was reduced to dust like brittle tiles amidst a series of despairing explosions.

Wang You, behind the lines, still tried to struggle, but amidst the noise and chaos, his military orders were rendered useless and could not be transmitted. He could only watch helplessly as the Jin army's rout surged forward, surrounding and charging towards him. For an army, the collapse of friendly forces is far more terrifying than an enemy assault. When facing an enemy assault, even if the forces are weaker, they can still fight back with their swords. But when faced with the collapse of friendly forces, can they still raise their swords against them? That's simply impossible. Even killing a few hundred wouldn't stop the tide; in the end, they would only be swept away and shattered like sand.

Under the first wave of attack from the Han army, all the Jin troops inside the palisade collapsed. The Jin soldiers offered no resistance whatsoever; their only resistance was to race their comrades to see who could run the fastest. Some, driven to desperation, even brandished their swords at passing knights, attempting to snatch horses from them. Those who obtained horses didn't bother to adjust their saddles and bridles, mounting their mounts and galloping south. Most of those without horses stumbled and staggered along with the surging tide of people. Between the palisade walls, dust filled the air, filled with the fleeing Jin soldiers, armor and weapons discarded.

The Han army was all too familiar with this situation. It was like a hunter chasing his prey; he didn't need to go too fast or too slow, just follow behind, occasionally slashing to draw blood, keeping the fear driving the prey to its doom. Previously, however, they usually had to engage in a fierce battle, exhausting the enemy's strength. But now, the Han army seemed to be strolling leisurely; it was less like hunting and more like sheepdogs herding sheep.

It must be mentioned that the Jin army generals were rather extravagant, mostly dressed in brocade robes and embroidered hats, making them very easy to identify. This allowed the Han army to easily locate enemy officers during the pursuit, and then spur their horses forward to capture and kill them. In just a few quarters of an hour, they had captured eight or nine officers.

The Jin army's commander, Zhu Si, wasn't dressed extravagantly; after all, he was a shipwright from a humble background, so his attire was rather simple. However, to distinguish himself and to protect himself from arrows on the battlefield, he specially had an iron mask made to wear, and with more than ten guards around him, he was still very conspicuous.

His guards tried to escort him to escape through the palisade, but amidst the surging crowd, more than ten Han cavalrymen quickly caught up and began firing arrows at them. One arrow struck Zhu Si in the ankle, causing the old general to fall to the ground. Seeing this, the remaining guards abandoned him and scattered. Zhu Si wanted to commit suicide, but holding a short sword, he didn't even have the strength to kill himself. As a result, he was bound like a dumpling by the Han soldiers and taken into the city to report the victory to the King of Han.

Of course, even if a war involving tens of thousands of troops collapses, it's impossible to say that there's no resistance at all. When Mao Bao was leading his troops to pursue the fleeing army, he unexpectedly discovered a burly man standing still. He was wearing bright armor and an iron helmet, wielding a large sword that slashed left and right like a flash of light, looking quite imposing. Several Han soldiers approached him to fight, but they couldn't defeat him.

Mao Bao glanced at the man a few times, feeling he looked familiar. He then loosened the reins and looked closely, only to discover it was Li Yun. Li Yun had been slashed several times, but seemed oblivious to the pain, shouting, "If you have the guts, fight one-on-one! What kind of skill is a gang fight? Don't you have any real men in your Han army?"

As he spoke, he turned around and saw Mao Bao. He was taken aback at first, then delighted, and said with a smile, "I've run into you again, kid. You're quite good. Shall we have another match?" Mao Bao had no time to waste with him. Hearing this, he didn't say anything more and pulled two arrows from the horse's mane. This was his favorite place to hide arrows; he could draw his bow instantly without having to reach for the quiver at the back, often catching people off guard.

In a flash, Mao Bao swiftly drew his bow and nocked an arrow. To Li Yun's astonishment, the whistling arrow emitted a strange cry like a seagull, hurtling towards him and striking Li Yun's breastplate with lightning speed. The arrow pierced the armor perfectly, embedding itself three inches into Li Yun's heart. Li Yun stared incredulously at the still-vibrating fletching in his chest, then glanced at Mao Bao and slowly uttered three words: "Excellent archery!" He then threw down his broadsword and collapsed to the ground.

Mao Bao didn't bother to look at him any longer. After confirming that he was dead, he immediately spurred his mount and continued to pursue the fleeing army southward. The ground was littered with the corpses of Jin soldiers, their eyes wide open in disbelief. They probably couldn't understand why the tide of battle had turned so drastically in just half a day. This shock and sorrow were probably a hundred times more painful than death itself.

The battle within the fortified area was over; the entire process took less than a quarter of an hour, as smooth as the receding tide. However, Liu Xian remained vigilant. He descended the city wall, donned his steed, and swiftly rode westward to the dike. He planned to board a boat there and sail south to continue overseeing the overall situation. He knew that while the current victories were impressive, they were still within the Jin army's means of survival.

To completely crush the Jin army's ambition and force them to retreat in one decisive battle, the most crucial juncture is whether the Han army can maintain its momentum after breaking through the encirclement. Success in this battle would cripple the Jin army's last line of defense and solidify the unification of Jiangnan. (End of Chapter)