Tang Dynasty: Starting with 3,000 elite cavalry, a bloody battle to retake the city.

"Raise the troops! Prepare for war!"

The order spread swiftly, like a wildfire, igniting every inch of the ruined streets and alleys.

At this moment, Han Ye was no longer just the commander of the reinforcements; he was the only backbone of Dingzhou, a ray of light hanging over a desperate situation!

The common people spontaneously poured out of the ruins to clear away the corpses and carry away the arrows; the remnants of the Tang army and three thousand masked iron cavalry quickly assembled, their swords still sheathed and their horses still saddled.

More than four thousand people were the last backbone of this city!

Han Ye stood atop the highest point of the city wall, his voice piercing the night wind and clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"No reinforcements."

"Behind me is home."

"The enemy is before me."

"If we back down, our families will be destroyed and we will die."

"The only option is to fight to the death!"

As soon as he finished speaking, all was silent.

Immediately—

"Fight to the death!"

"Fight to the death!!"

"Fight to the death!!!"

The roar resounded through the sky, filled with tragedy, determination, and an unyielding spirit!

The night was deeper.

Zhong Fang quietly entered a dilapidated house and gently woke his son, Zhong An.

Before the boy was fully awake, his father had already stuffed a blood-stained farewell letter and a secret token into his hands.

"Listen," Zhongfang's voice was hoarse, "if the city falls, you must leave immediately and deliver these to Chang'an... not a single word can be missing."

The boy's eyes widened, his lips trembling: "Father...and you?"

Zhong Fang did not answer.

He silently donned his armor, drew his sword, and headed towards the city wall.

His back view was resolute, as firm as iron.

The night was as dark as ink, pressing heavily on the city walls of Dingzhou.

Zhongfang's eyes were bloodshot, as if his soul had been burned away. His voice was hoarse, yet every word was as firm as iron: "My son, this letter... must be delivered to Chang'an personally! His Majesty must see it! Do you understand?!"

"The fate of Dingzhou rests in your hands!"

The boy stared blankly at his father, his eyes instantly welling up with blood. He gritted his teeth and nodded fiercely, "Father! I will definitely bring back reinforcements! Even if I have to crawl, I will crawl back to Chang'an!"

Zhongfang finally smiled, a smile that contained tears, relief, and farewell.

He gently patted his son's shoulder, his voice as low as the wind: "Let's go."

At a command, warhorses neighed, tearing through the night.

The boy's figure disappeared at the end of the long street, and the sound of horses' hooves faded into the distance, like a kite with a broken string flying towards the unreachable Chang'an.

Can--

Dingzhou is thousands of miles away from Chang'an, separated by mountains and rivers!

At dawn tomorrow, the Turkic army will arrive like locusts, their iron hooves trampling the city!

Reinforcements? Will they be able to come?

No.

Zhongfang never had any hope.

He just... wanted his son to leave alive.

He just wanted this final letter, soaked in blood and bone, to be delivered to the gates of Chang'an, even if he had only one breath left!

……

I didn't sleep all night.

The lights in Dingzhou remained on all night, as if the entire city was waiting to die with its eyes open.

Tomorrow's battle is not about offense or defense, it's about life and death.

This is the final battle.

Who among the soldiers and civilians in the entire city could close their eyes?

Han Ye's three thousand Tiger Leopard Iron Cavalry, all wearing ghost masks and covered in black armor, stood atop the city wall, resembling ghost soldiers guarding the border.

They stood motionless, their very breath carrying a murderous intent.

More than a thousand remnants of the Dingzhou army were also on rotation for defense.

Some people rest, while others keep watch.

The wine jars rolled back and forth on the city wall.

A young soldier tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of strong liquor, muttering, "Alas... I haven't... even gotten married yet... If I'm gone tomorrow, there won't even be anyone to cry for me on the road to the underworld."

A burst of laughter immediately erupted from the side.

"With your ugly appearance, you think you can get married? Any girl would run away at the sight of you!"

The man wasn't annoyed. He grinned and said, "I was married before, with a wife and kids... Unfortunately, last month, they were all beheaded by those Turkic bastards."

The laughter stopped abruptly.

A gust of wind blew, carrying with it the smell of blood mixed with the aroma of alcohol.

Another man raised his wine bowl: "Captain, tomorrow is the decisive battle, aren't we going to give the brothers something to celebrate? Let's have some wine to bolster our courage!"

"Yes! I've hidden ten jars of strong liquor; I'll go get them right now!"

So, amidst the flickering torches, the soldiers drank freely, shouted in their drunkenness, and laughed and cried.

They were talking about the dreams they hadn't finished in their lives—

Some want to go back to their hometown to farm, some want to see their babies born, some want to eat their mother's roujiamo (Chinese hamburger) again...

There are too many regrets, and too many things I can't bear to part with.

But even as they were making a ruckus, the rows of tiger-and-leopard cavalry remained as silent as stone, their eyes behind their masks as cold as ice.

An old soldier from Dingzhou couldn't help but say, "Brother, you're going to die tomorrow, why are you still so tense? Come down for a drink, let's go crazy one last time, shall we?"

The iron cavalry remained motionless, coldly uttering only two words: "No need."

He paused, then his voice was deep and thunderous: "To die for one's country, how can there be weariness? This is honor."

boom!

One sentence sent a chill down everyone's spine.

The captain suddenly stood up, his eyes red-rimmed, and laughed loudly, "Hahaha! Well said! To die for the country is a blessing for us soldiers! What's so tiring about!"

"Yes! To die for one's country is a worthy death!"

"Whoever survives tomorrow, remember this—collect your brother's body! Carry the coffin back to his hometown!"

"Count me in! Whoever survives, makes the move!"

Everyone raised their bowls and swore an oath by drinking blood.

Just then, Xiahou Dun—the leader of the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry—slowly rose to his feet.

He walked over step by step, took off his mask, and revealed a face that looked as if it had been carved by a knife.

After a moment of silence, he snatched a wine bowl, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp, the wine dripping down his beard.

Then, he said in a deep voice, "I also remember one thing—the living collect the bodies of the dead and carry them home."

The entire room fell silent.

The next moment, cheers erupted.

At that moment, the soldiers of the Tang Dynasty were no different from the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry; they shared only one name: defenders of the city.

"Tap! Tap! Tap!"

Footsteps sounded.

Han Ye and Zhong Fang climbed the city wall side by side.

In the firelight, the two figures cast extremely long shadows.

All the soldiers turned around in unison, clasped their hands in salute, and shouted, "General! Sir!"

Han Ye was the backbone of the army, and Zhong Fang was the magistrate of the city.

Today, they are the last ray of light in Dingzhou.

But they came up not to supervise the battle, nor to boost morale.

They couldn't sleep either.

Han Ye always wore a mask and never took it off.

As soon as he appeared, he chuckled, his voice tinged with mockery: "Who just said they weren't married? Step forward and let me see which idiot it is!"

Everyone was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter.

A young boy stepped forward timidly, scratching his head, his face flushed: "General...it's me..."

Han Ye squinted and sized him up.

He had delicate features and a dirty face, but it couldn't hide his youthful spirit.

He was only seventeen or eighteen years old, still a child.

"What's your name? How old are you?"

The boy suddenly straightened his back, his spine taut like a spear, and said in a clear voice, "General, my name is Liu Chi, and I am sixteen years old!"

"sixteen……"

Han Ye repeated in a low voice, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes trembling, and a faint redness appeared in his eyes.

At only sixteen years old, he had to go to the battlefield and risk his life.

But what about him? He's only eighteen!

He raised his hand and patted Liu Chi's shoulder heavily, the force steady, and a smile appeared on his lips: "Come back alive."

"As long as you survive, I'll arrange your wedding! A grand dowry, I won't skimp on it!"

"really?!"

Liu Chi's eyes lit up, and he almost jumped up, grinning from ear to ear: "Hahaha! General, do you mean it? Just for that promise, I, Liu Chi, will risk my life to come back alive! My mother is waiting to hold her grandson, hahaha—"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding soldiers burst into laughter. The clanging of their armor carried a hint of heroic spirit even in the cold wind.

Han Ye shook his head and chuckled, then turned and led Zhong Fang to the other side of the city wall, gazing into the distance.

Over there, torches spread across the ground like a galaxy, and the camps stretched endlessly, turning half of the night sky crimson.

He knew that it was the central command tent of Khagan Jieli.

It was a place where the Turkic army was stationed.

Even knowing the enemy leader is there, what can you do?

A night raid? Ha—

The Turkic camp was densely packed with scouts and soldiers, its defenses as solid as an iron barrel, leaving no room for any opportunity to exploit.

Retreat? Absolutely not!

Dingzhou and Youzhou were both vital passages to the northern border of the Tang Dynasty. If they retreated and the border walls fell, the nomadic cavalry would sweep south, resulting in widespread suffering and death!

Now, with a powerful enemy pressing in front and no reinforcements coming from behind, they are like a knife nailed to the city wall, unable to advance or retreat, and can only endure it!

"General..."

Zhong Fang suddenly turned to look at Han Ye, his tone amused: "Seeing how concerned you are about Liu Chi's marriage makes me curious—has the General himself married?"

Upon hearing this, Han Ye paused in his tracks.

Wife?

His pupils contracted slightly, and that day flashed through his mind like lightning—

In the main hall of the Han family mansion, red candles burned brightly, and the marriage certificate lay open on the table.

He tore it to shreds, the scraps flying like snowflakes, landing silently.

That name... Li Yingge, the Divine Warrior, his former fiancée.

Now, it's all been wiped clean.

He lowered his eyes, his voice as cold as a still pool: "No."

I, Han Ye, have no wife, no concubine, no marriage contract.

"Oh?!" Zhong Fang raised an eyebrow, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

This masked general was actually all alone?

Although I have never seen his true face, I know from his fierce aura that he is no ordinary person.

Such a person, yet he's never married? That's quite rare!

Han Ye was silent for a moment, then suddenly said in a low voice, "There was one before... but I was afraid of implicating her, so I tore up the marriage certificate myself, and that was the end of it."

Zhong Fang was suddenly jolted, realizing what was happening.

It's not that they're heartless, but rather that they're deeply affectionate.

I would rather betray my own heart than betray her life than let my beloved be dragged into bloodshed!

As he gazed at Han Ye's figure, he suddenly felt that beneath that cold mask lay a city that had been burned to the ground.

"General..." Zhongfang sighed, "If you have a family, it's truly hard to sever those ties, and you can't bear to part with them..."

Han Ye chuckled softly, glancing sideways at him: "And your son? Shouldn't he be leaving the city by now?"

Zhong Fang's expression changed drastically!

With a thud, he knelt down, his forehead almost touching the ground: "General, please forgive me! It was my own doing, it has nothing to do with my son! I beg you... please don't hold a grudge against him!"

Han Ye almost burst out laughing.

As for?

He stepped forward, grabbed Zhong Fang with one hand, and said in a gentle but firm tone, "I don't blame you."

The things he took with him... were nothing more than wills left by ordinary people to their loved ones.

He paused, then lowered his voice: "Let him go."

At least, it leaves the people of Given State with something to look forward to.

Zhong Fang shuddered, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot.

The departure of their son, Chung-On, was not just about delivering a letter...

It is also the only continuation of the Zhong family bloodline!

Han Ye clearly knew everything, yet he chose to turn a blind eye and not investigate. This kindness and gratitude is as heavy as a thousand pounds!

"The decisive battle is tomorrow..." Zhong Fang gritted his teeth and stood firm, his voice like a drawn sword, "I, Zhong Fang, am willing to fight to the death with the general! Until we are both dead!"

Han Ye nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the depths of the night.

Zhong Fang hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice, filled with awe and pleading: "General... tomorrow's battle is uncertain..."

He looked up, staring directly at the cold, hard table:

"Could you... please remove your mask? Let those of us who follow you remember your face?"

Han Ye froze.

Take off the mask?

A night breeze blew by, and he slowly raised his hand.

With a soft "click," the demon mask loosened and slid off the cheek.

The moonlight shone down, illuminating a young yet aloof face—eyebrows like sharp blades, eyes like cold stars, a half-smile playing on his lips, as if concealing a myriad of joys and sorrows.

Zhong Fang's pupils contracted sharply as he stared intently at that face. Suddenly, he threw his head back and burst into laughter, the sound tearing through the long night.

"Hahaha! So...so it was his son! No wonder...no wonder he had such courage!"

As night deepened, three thousand armored soldiers stood solemnly atop the city walls of Dingzhou.

The wind whips the banners, making them flutter and rustle.

In the corner, young player Liu Chi had fallen into a deep sleep against the wall, a smile still on his lips.

In his dream, he saw himself alive—Han Ye personally draped a bright red wedding robe over him, amidst the deafening music and the throngs of guests.

But that joy lasted only a moment, and in the blink of an eye, bloodshed and carnage ensued.

At this moment, in the real Dingzhou, all was quiet.

Some fell into a deep sleep, seeking a moment of peace in their dreams; some closed their eyes and concentrated, contemplating life and death in the darkness; and still others sharpened their knives, the blades reflecting the cold moonlight, each sound like a death warrant.

Everyone knows it perfectly well—

Tomorrow's battle is not about victory or defeat, but a choice between life and death!

This battle will determine whether everyone in Dingzhou can continue to live!

Dingzhou's fate hangs by a thread, hanging on the brink of death!

……

The night was as dark as ink, so thick it was impossible to see through.

The Khan's camp, however, was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

The armored troops stood in imposing array, banners fluttered in the wind, and the army was encamped like a forest, their killing intent soaring to the heavens.

At that moment, however, horns suddenly sounded and war drums trembled slightly.

The entire army began to form ranks, the horses' hooves pounding, and the weapons clanging.

Jieli is leaving.

He never intended to stay in Dingzhou for long.

This city was never his target.

His true battlefield was on the banks of the Wei River—that vast plain was where he buried the dignity of the Tang Dynasty!

Although Dingzhou was not captured and a masked general appeared halfway and caused trouble, none of this could shake his iron-fisted plan!

"Huyan Zhuo!"

A roar ripped through the night sky, like a tiger unleashed from its cage.

Jieli's eyes were like knives, radiating a cold light.

"Khan!"

A burly figure knelt on one knee ahead, his armor clanking, his imposing presence like a mountain.

Jieli sneered, his voice carrying a cruelty that seemed to crush bones: "I'll leave you 50,000 elite troops, and within a day, we'll raze Dingzhou to the ground! After the city falls, we'll slaughter the entire population!"

He paused, then uttered each word with utmost seriousness: "If I fail... I'll bring you my head!"

Huyan Zhuo suddenly clasped his hands in a fist salute, the clanging of his armor like thunder: "Rest assured, Khan! It won't take a day, half a day will suffice! Half an hour to breach the city gates, an hour to slaughter every ant in the city!"

"Fine!" Jieli sneered. "I'll be waiting for you at the Wei River."

Before the words were even finished, the army had already set off!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Iron hooves pounded the ground, the earth trembled, and billowing dust billowed northward.

The entire main force of the Turks soared into the sky like a black dragon, heading straight for the Wei River!