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

"kill--!!"

A thunderous shout rang out!

Li Shimin, fully armed and ready, led the main force of the Tang Dynasty in a fierce charge!

His longsword cleaved through the wall of men, his warhorse trampled the severed limbs, leaving a trail of blood and mountains of corpses in his wake!

Seeing that Gongsun Zan was about to be surrounded and killed, Li Shimin's eyes flashed and he suddenly changed direction!

"Follow me—break through the formation!!"

The Tang cavalry, like a flood breaking through a dam, tore a bloody gash in the flank of the Turkic army!

Amidst the flashing blades, Li Shimin's eyes locked onto Gongsun Zan, his gaze bloodshot, and he roared, "Run—run now!!"

"drive!!"

Gongsun Zan gritted his teeth and lashed out with his whip!

The white horse neighed and carried the unconscious Han Ye, breaking through the encirclement like an arrow released from a bow!

Two thousand surviving members of the White Horse Cavalry followed closely behind, fighting their way out of the mountains of corpses and seas of blood!

As they swept past the Tang army's ranks, Li Jing stared in silence, Cheng Yaojin gripped his iron axe tightly, and Changsun Wuji murmured, "...Ghost-faced General."

That legendary, elusive, cold-blooded nemesis has finally appeared in the world today.

But who could have imagined it would turn out like this—

He was dressed in tattered, blood-stained clothes, his face covered in blood, and his breathing was so faint that it was almost imperceptible.

The tragedy was so horrific that it was truly moving.

Even a glimpse from afar makes my heart clench.

And just as the procession sped past—

Li Yingge suddenly stopped in her tracks, her pupils shrinking sharply!

She stared intently at the unconscious man's limp hand—

A small black mole is clearly visible in the palm of the hand.

Time seemed to stand still.

Her mind exploded!

That day... he was writing poetry in the courtyard, sunlight streaming onto the paper. She quietly stood behind him watching him hold his pen, and had curiously glanced at his palm—

She remembered it then.

Han Ye has a mole on his palm.

The exact same position.

Exactly the same shape.

"It's him...it really is him..."

Li Yingge's lips trembled, and her fingertips were icy cold.

Her beautiful eyes were unfocused, and her heart was in turmoil.

She used to try every possible way to test him, just to confirm her suspicions.

But at this moment, for the first time, she actually hoped—

I was wrong.

If the Ghost-Faced General really is Han Ye...

That man was already at the point of exhaustion.

He was barely breathing, his life hanging by a thread.

She dared not think any further.

I felt as if a huge rock was pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

If it really is him... would he still be alive?

Han Ye had no idea of ​​the turmoil in Li Yingge's heart. At this moment, his consciousness had long since drifted away like floating clouds. He only vaguely remembered that it was the White Horse Cavalry who had pulled him back from the brink of hell.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his voice as soft as the wind: "Why...why don't you guys obey orders..."

Gongsun Zan stood silently, raindrops sliding down his armor, reflecting his cold and stern features.

After a long silence, he suddenly looked up, and spoke each word with a resounding, forceful tone, as clear and powerful as a knife or axe splitting stone:

"The White Horse Cavalry, bound by righteousness, will follow you to the death! Heaven bears witness, the white horse is our oath!"

"General, you want us to abandon you to your death? Absolutely not!"

Han Ye was stunned, his eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he had seen through the blood mist and seen the Tiger and Leopard Iron Cavalry that had long been buried in the years—the same eyes, the same loyalty, the same determination to die rather than retreat!

It looks exactly like it...

It really looks just like it...

This White Horse Cavalry is exactly the same as the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry of yesteryear!

But so what?

He has done everything in his power to hold off the Turkic hordes for Li Shimin for so long.

Let them handle the rest of the game.

With this thought in mind, he could no longer hold on. His eyelids felt heavy as mountains, and his consciousness, like a candle flame about to go out, slowly sank into darkness.

The moment he fell, war drums roared behind him, and the sounds of battle shook the heavens.

"Ghost-faced General, leave the rest to me."

Li Shimin stood amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, his eyes blazing as he stared directly at the surging Turkic army.

He suddenly drew his sword and roared to the sky:

"All troops, attack! Leave no one alive, slaughter the enemy!"

"kill--!"

"kill--!"

On the banks of the Wei River, the world seemed to change color.

When the White Horse Cavalry broke through the encirclement with Han Ye covered in blood, the Turkic army went completely mad! They roared and turned their horses around like wild beasts, rushing towards the black figure with all their might—vowing to tear the "Ghost-Faced General" to pieces!

But how could Li Shimin let them have their way?

The Tang army surged forward like a tidal wave, their swords flashing against the rain, and waves of blood staining the riverbanks red.

Arrows pierced the air, warhorses neighed mournfully, and the earth trembled beneath their iron hooves.

The torrential rain poured down, washing away the severed limbs and remains, but it couldn't wash away the thick, unyielding stench of blood in the air.

"Kill them! Don't let a single one escape!"

"Charge! Slaughter all the Turkic dogs!"

Li Shimin's eyes were bloodshot, and he wielded his spear like a dragon, each strike bringing forth a spray of blood.

He had lost count of how many people he had killed; his arms were already numb, but he had never taken a single step back.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the path where the white horse cavalry had departed.

A gentle smile suddenly appeared at the corner of her lips.

"Ghost-faced General...you must live."

"I can't owe you another life..."

He murmured softly, as if making a promise, or perhaps a confession.

The spear in his hand pierced the chest of a Turkic centurion once again, and blood splattered on his face, mingling with the rain and trickling down.

This battle lasted for an unknown period of time.

Half a day? A day? Or perhaps longer?

Time is distorted in the midst of battle, and memories are blurred in exhaustion.

until--

The final scream abruptly ended.

The banks of the Wei River have finally fallen into deathly silence.

Apart from a few Tang soldiers returning to their camps, all that remained were mountains of corpses.

Broken armor and shattered blades lay embedded in the mud, warhorses lay fallen in pools of blood, and crows circled, cawing mournfully.

open.

silence.

A desolate chill, like frost.

This land, once teeming with rushing river water, is now a vast graveyard.

Li Shimin dragged his almost broken body back to the center of the battlefield step by step.

He was covered in wounds, his armor was shattered, and he staggered, yet he still stood tall.

Changsun Wuji rushed forward to support him, only to find that His Majesty's lips were pale and his voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible.

"Supporting aircraft...did we...win?"

Tears welled up in Changsun Wuji's eyes, and he knelt down, shouting loudly, his voice echoing across the land:

"Your Majesty! Victory! We have won! Victory for the Great Tang Dynasty—!"

"We...won!"

In that instant, it was as if a ray of light cleaved through the gloom.

Li Shimin's tense face finally relaxed, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly, revealing a smile that was almost exhausting.

Immediately afterwards, the entire battlefield erupted in cheers.

"We won! We won—!"

"Hahaha! You Turkic barbarians! Open your eyes and see! Our Great Tang has won!"

"Waaaaah... Brothers, we survived... We really survived..."

Some laughed wildly, some wept bitterly, some knelt and kowtowed, and some buried their heads in their hands and wept bitterly.

Great joy, great sorrow, profound enlightenment.

The string, stretched for too long, finally snapped.

At the edge of this place, where silence and clamor intertwined, Li Shimin gazed into the distance and murmured:

"General Ghost Face... you took the blame for me in this battle."

"I will remember this kindness for the rest of my life."

Laughter erupted like a tidal wave, then abruptly ceased.

People collapsed on the ground, some laughing wildly one second, others covering their faces and wailing the next.

Overjoyed, she wept.

Sorrow welled up within me.

We won—but this victory was built on mountains of corpses and seas of blood!

The fields were littered with the corpses of Han soldiers.

Broken armor and shattered blades were stuck in the soil, blood soaked the yellow sand, and when the wind blew, the air was filled with the stench of rust.

Standing amidst the pile of corpses, Li Shimin's throat felt as if it had been scorched by fire as he let out a hoarse laugh: "I... have won."

He staggered forward, his steps heavy as if he were dragging a thousand-pound iron chain.

He slowly knelt before the remains of the Tang soldiers, his voice as soft as a whisper: "Did you hear that? We...won."

Then he stood up again and walked step by step toward the edge of the battlefield.

There lay even more corpses—not soldiers, but refugees.

The elderly, children, and women lay piled upon each other in the dust, barely clothed, their deaths gruesome.

They were refugees who had come to escape, but were slaughtered by the chaotic army before they could even utter a cry of despair.

Li Shimin's eyes were red and his voice was hoarse: "My people... I have returned."

The Tang Dynasty... won.

You... can go home now.

No one answered.

The world was silent, save for the wind that made the banners flutter.

Li Yingge, Li Jing, and Cheng Yaojin all bowed their heads, their fists clenched until they turned white, and their eyes were red.

Li Shimin suddenly felt dizzy and his vision went black.

He forced himself to keep walking forward, with only one goal in mind—the direction where Qin Shubao had fallen.

He could no longer hold on when he was ten steps away.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, the emperor collapsed, crashing heavily onto the cold earth, just like his former valiant general.

"His Majesty!!"

Changsun Wuji and the others rushed forward with cries of alarm.

Li Shimin's eyes were bloodshot, and his consciousness was becoming somewhat blurred, yet he still roared out the order with all his might:

"Order—the entire army shall remain encamped for ten days! We shall wait for General Ghostface to return and reconnoiter the enemy's situation before making any further moves!"

"Send scouts back to Chang'an on horseback to report the victory!"

"And..." he gasped, his fingertips trembling slightly, "place Qin Shubao's body into the imperial coffin I brought. Not a single step must be mishandled!"

The orders fell one after another, each word dripping with blood.

With tears in his eyes, Changsun Wuji accepted the order and immediately assigned people to carry it out.

Li Shimin finally breathed a sigh of relief, lay on his back on the muddy ground, and looked at the blood-red setting sun on the horizon.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but tears streamed down his face.

Through his blurred vision, he seemed to see Qin Shubao stand up, gently lowering the blood-stained longsword in his hand.

Hey bro...did you see that?

We...we really won...

His eyes slowly closed, and the wind ruffled a corner of his battle robe, like a belated farewell.

-

Chang'an City.

For three days, dark clouds have been looming overhead, obscuring the sun.

After Li Shimin personally led his army away, the entire capital fell into a deathly silence.

The people remained silent, and the streets and alleys were quiet.

But they all knew in their hearts that the battle at the Wei River was no small matter.

That's a national war!

A life-or-death battle that we cannot afford to lose!

Three days have passed, and there's still no news from the front lines.

No one knew whether the emperor was alive or dead, and no one knew whether the Tang Dynasty could survive.

Fear spread like a poisonous fog.

On the city wall, Crown Prince Li Chengqian paced back and forth, his brow furrowed in a knot.

His father personally led the expedition, and he oversaw the administration of the country.

But he knew he was too inexperienced.

This empire is too heavy a burden, making it hard for him to breathe.

As the sun began to set, the sky grew increasingly overcast.

Rumors began to circulate: "If we lose this battle, Chang'an will surely fall, and the Tang Dynasty will perish!"

Li Chengqian's heart tightened upon hearing this, and he paused in his steps, suddenly remembering someone—

That boy who once drew his bow and shot an arrow from the city wall, breaking through the enemy's formation with a single shot!