Dream of the Red Chamber: After being exiled, I went on a killing spree in Liaodong.

As Jia Yi traveled, the devastated villages, charred ruins, and the unseeing corpses of the dead felt like red-hot needles piercing his eyes. The further north he went, the stronger the stench of blood became—clearly not ordinary banditry, but something orchestrated by a powerful force.

"Once I tear your head out," his knuckles turned white, his voice so cold it could freeze, "I'll chop off both your hands and soak them in liquor!"

Dust billowed ahead as a squad of assassins galloped toward the next village. As their horses thundered, several riders suddenly emerged from the woods in the distance—scouts sent by the Prince of Zhongshun's private army!

"The fish has taken the bait!"

The leader of the assassins smirked and barked, "Turn around, stick to plan! To the hideout!"

Before the words were even finished, everyone reined in their horses, turned around, and rode away in a cloud of dust.

"This idea's a pain, brothers, let's get out of here!"

One person roared wildly, his voice like tearing silk.

The pursuing cavalrymen immediately reacted: "Quick! Report to the Marquis, we're following them!"

Hooves thundered, dust billowed, and the two groups of men and horses charged straight into the depths of the dense forest, one after the other.

When the news reached Jia Yi, he had already mounted his horse, a cold glint in his eyes: "Chase them! Don't let a single one escape!"

He led the light cavalry and sped away, followed closely by Wu Sheng, who led the infantry in a frantic race.

Meanwhile, Zhang Huai was leisurely drinking tea in the camp, completely unaware that the blade of death was already hanging over his head.

"The place where we'll hide our troops is just ahead."

One of the assassins wiped his sweat, grinned, and said, "Brothers, the job's done. We can go now."

They were inherently suicide warriors—living only for this day, leaving no name behind after death.

But just as they approached the camp gate, the sirens suddenly went off!

"Who is it?"

Torches flickered wildly in the woods. The private soldiers of Prince Zhongshun were shocked to see a large number of cavalry charging in. They stared wide-eyed: Are they crazy? They dare to ride their horses and force their way through this terrain?

"Reporting to the General! Enemy attack!"

"Fire! Leave no one alive!"

In an instant, the bowstring snapped, and a rain of arrows poured down, the sound of them piercing the air painfully sharp.

"Don't kill us!"

Before falling from their horses, the suicide squad roared in unison, their voices both mournful and absurd: "We're brothers who've been to brothels together!"

"Who the hell are you? I've never even seen your face before!"

"Do you own this brothel? That's utter nonsense!"

The private soldiers were completely bewildered, utterly astonished. These men were still spouting nonsense on their deathbeds—had they lost their minds?

Upon hearing the news, Zhang Huai rushed over, his face ashen: "Who escaped? Did anyone get away?"

"Reporting to the general, they've all been taken down; not a single one escaped!"

He let out a deep breath, his eyes growing increasingly grave: "Pack your things immediately and retreat into the forest! This place has been exposed!"

The wind hasn't stopped, but the fire is about to break.

Just then, Jia Yi led his cavalry close by, dismounted, and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

He squinted as he surveyed the camp ahead: the tents were neatly arranged, the weapons were laid out in an orderly fashion, and the patrol routes resembled military discipline—what were they, bandits? They were clearly an elite private army!

"Something's not right," he whispered. "This isn't a den of thieves, it's a military camp."

He immediately issued an order: "Summon Wu Sheng immediately and speed up the march! Without infantry to encircle them, these small fry will scatter as soon as they charge, causing harm to the people along the way!"

Half an hour later, Wu Sheng led the main force to arrive, everyone panting heavily.

"Rest for half an hour," Jia Yi gestured, "Conserve your energy before slaughtering these corrupt officials in bandit's clothing!"

The soldiers sat on the ground, trying to recover their strength as quickly as possible.

When the time came, everyone's eyes were on the head coach.

The forest was too dense, rendering the warhorse useless, so Jia Yi abandoned his horse and walked. But his steps were light and agile, his breath long and steady—the Lingbo Weibu (a martial arts technique) had long been ingrained in his bones and blood; tonight, no one could escape his grasp.

"superior!"

With a flick of his arm, he swooped down like a hawk swooping down on the forest.

The thousands of soldiers crouched low and stealthily made their way towards the private army camp where they were packing supplies.

The branches and leaves blocked out the sky, the moonlight shattered into silver flakes and fell, and the blade gleamed coldly in the shadows.

Sudden--

"Wha...who is it?"

One of the private soldiers turned around abruptly, his pupils contracting, his voice caught in his throat.

Before he could finish speaking, a cold glint flashed across his neck.

With a flick of Jia Yi's Green Dragon Crescent Blade, the man's head flew off, blood spurting into the sky. The body swayed twice before collapsing to the ground, dying instantly!

It wasn't until thousands of corpses lay scattered all over the camp, their limbs and flesh mixed with mud covering the ground, that the private soldiers suddenly realized—an enemy had invaded!

"Enemy attack!!! Enemy attack!!!"

The drums and gongs blared, the alarms blared, and the entire camp shook and hummed. Torches flickered wildly, and people fled in panic; the once tranquil forest was instantly transformed into a hellish battlefield.

"kill--!"

With a long roar, Jia Yi leaped out like a tiger released from its cage, his feet moving swiftly with the light-footed steps of Lingbo Weibu, his figure as fast as a ghost, leaving only a blur.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of private soldiers had blood streaming from their throats and holes in their chests. They didn't even have time to scream before they fell down in unison, as swiftly and cleanly as cutting grass.

[Ding! The host has launched a charge against 40,000 private soldiers, activating a hidden troop type—10,000 Qin crossbowmen!]

As soon as the system notification sounded, the forest in the distance suddenly split open, revealing a dark array of crossbows. Arrows rained down, blotting out the sun and tearing through the night sky, instantly ploughing the enemy ranks into waves of blood.

"Pfft—Crack—"

The sounds of blades piercing bone and armor breaking echoed across the battlefield, leaving only a bloody symphony.

Niu Dahao's legs were trembling as he went into battle for the first time. He had thought the battlefield would be a place of passionate excitement and boundless heroism, but what he saw before him was nothing but gruesome scenes of ruptured intestines and rolling heads.

To make matters worse, they were sandwiched right next to the Tang Dynasty's Mo Dao (陌刀) troops.

So they watched helplessly as the heavily armored assassins crushed the enemy like bulldozers—their swords flashed, men and horses were shattered, and their armor was torn apart like paper. The scene was so violent that it made one's scalp tingle.

"Damn it! We're still too late!" Zhang Huai roared, his face contorted in rage.

"General, what do we do now?" the guard asked in a trembling voice.

"What do we do?" He sneered, gun in hand. "Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

Entrusted with such an important task by King Zhongshun, Zhang Huai was certainly no ordinary man. While it might not be an exaggeration to say he could withstand ten men, it was certainly true that he could take on ten men single-handedly.

He led the charge, followed closely by the remaining troops, their momentum surged.

But as soon as they stepped out of the camp gate, everyone's pupils constricted—

What came towards them was an elite army in full heavy armor, arrayed in a solemn formation!

"Where the hell did this come from?" Zhang Huai was shocked.

The elite soldiers they had trained for years were seen as lambs to the slaughter in the eyes of the enemy, to be slaughtered as easily as cutting melons and vegetables. Every strike was precise and ruthless, leaving no room for resistance.

"Why didn't Your Highness send out a single word about the deployment of an army of this caliber?!" His eyes were bloodshot, and he was filled with resentment.

If he had known there was such a powerful enemy nearby, he would have led his men to retreat into the deep mountains and forests long ago. Why would he have stubbornly resisted and been sent to his death?

But he didn't know that at that moment, King Chungshun was lying on the bed groaning in pain, clutching his crippled lower body, covered in cold sweat. He had no mind to care about the situation at the front.

"Retreat! Retreat immediately!" Zhang Huai gritted his teeth, his voice filled with despair.