A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Old Zhou kicked over the desk.

The wooden table crashed to the ground, spilling blood from the copper bowl. Just as Han Dashan was about to draw his sword, Zhou Laodao pointed at his nose and cursed him.

"What happened to the planned ambush on Wei Zhao?"

"And now?"

"We've been ambushed!"

His eyes were frighteningly red, and the tip of his knife swept around the tent.

Where is Liu Suanren?

As soon as he said that, the tent fell silent.

Han Dashan drew his sword and slashed at the pillar.

"Find Liu Suan for me! I want him alive or dead!"

Old Zhou laughed.

"Looking for it? You're only starting to look for it now?"

He took a step forward, and the Red Blade Army's personal guards followed him into the tent, their blades raised in unison.

"Fatty Han, haven't you seen it clearly yet? Liu Jingshuang is blocking the north entrance, Huo Qingluan is suppressing the south entrance, and Wei Zhao is arrayed on the west side. The east side is a mountain wall. Our million soldiers are crammed into this broken valley. Horses can't turn around, carts can't be pushed out, and we even have to step on our own people's feet to piss."

He touched Han Dashan's chest with the tip of his knife.

"You're still looking for Liu Suan?"

"You should think about how you're going to survive first."

Han Dashan's eyelid twitched.

He wanted to curse back, and he wanted to chop Old Zhou to pieces with a sword.

But the shouts of battle, the neighing of horses, and the cries of messengers outside the tent pierced his ears, turning the little fire in his mind into a smoldering ember.

You can't hit Zhou Laodao.

Not at least not now.

The Red Blade Army was in front, the Black Mountain Army was in the middle, and the Iron Ridge Army was on the side.

If a real fight breaks out inside the tent, the million-strong allied army outside will crush themselves without Wei Zhao even lifting a finger.

But if we don't fight, how can we control the situation?

Han Dashan suddenly realized that Liu Suan had run away too fast. So fast that he didn't even have a single person left to speak up for him.

Old Zhou grabbed Han Dashan by the collar of his coat and dragged him into the tent.

"Gentlemen."

He looked up at the crowd, his voice hoarse and cold.

"This man has ruined us to this extent, what use is he?"

Han Dashan gritted his teeth.

"Nonsense! Black Wind Ridge was a scheme devised by Liu, not by me!"

Old Zhou slapped him across the face.

"Who invited Liu?"

Han Dashan's mouth was split open, and his eyes flashed with a fierce light.

"You agreed! You've all acknowledged me as your leader! Now you want to pin the blame on me?"

"Yes."

Zhou Laodao actually nodded.

"I'm going to pin this on you."

He looked at Qin Lie.

"Tie him up, offer him to Wei Zhao, and we'll save our lives."

No one spoke inside the tent.

The sound of the cup hitting the ground was clear and jarring.

That's incredibly shameless.

But it's too much like a way to make a living.

Xu Zhongmou suddenly smiled.

"What Prince Zhou said... is not entirely undisputed."

Han Dashan suddenly looked at him.

"Xu Zhongmou! You smiling dog!"

Xu Zhongmou was not angry. Instead, he took half a step back and drew his sword.

The blade points outwards, not towards Old Zhou's knife.

The meaning is very clear.

In the Jingxiang Qinglong Camp, stood Zhou Laodao.

Xue Feng was the second to draw his sword.

"The White Deer Army does not want to be buried with the Black Mountain Army."

Sun Qing gritted his teeth and stood over there as well.

"Haidong Army...is willing to surrender."

Feng Wanjun cursed and drew his sword, standing behind Zhou Laodao.

"The Baiyue army too."

Ma Chengyi took one last look at Han Dashan.

Han Dashan's face was covered in blood, and his eyes looked like he wanted to devour someone.

Ma Chengyi suddenly found it funny.

Yesterday, during the blood oath ceremony, this fat man was sitting in the main seat, shouting for all the kings to jointly kill him.

Today, someone held a knife to his neck and became a gift offered to Wei Zhao.

He drew his sword.

"The righteous army of Hedong followed the trend of the times."

The five rebel kings stood behind Zhou Laodao one after another.

Qin Lie didn't move.

Old Zhou looked at him.

"Qin Lie, what about you?"

Qin Lie looked at Han Dashan, then glanced outside the tent.

He knew better than anyone that kidnapping Han Dashan might not guarantee Wei Zhao's life.

A person like Wei Zhao, who is willing to accept surrendered soldiers, does not mean he is willing to keep the rebel king.

But if they aren't tied up, everyone in the valley will die.

The options are terrible.

Even a bad option is still an option.

Qin Lie drew his sword, the tip pointing downwards.

"Tie them up first."

Han Dashan finally panicked.

"Are you all insane? Wei Zhao won't let you get away with this! You think he'll spare you if you hand me over? How long did it take him to kill Du Heng? A day! Less than a day!"

Old Zhou sneered.

"That's still better than waiting to die now."

The Black Mountain Army's personal guards wanted to rescue people.

The Red Blade Army and the Iron Ridge Army pressed forward simultaneously.

The tent was in chaos again.

The sound of clashing swords rang out. Han Dashan was pinned down by several veteran soldiers with red blades, his shoulder armor torn off, and his arms twisted behind his back. He struggled desperately, cursing all the while.

"Old Zhou! You'll die a horrible death!"

Old Zhou punched him in the stomach.

Han Dashan bent over in pain, his voice choked.

"Whether I live or die depends on whether you can survive tonight."

Outside the canyon.

Liu Jingshuang stood at the north entrance, listening to the increasingly chaotic shouts of battle in the valley, her brows furrowed.

The Wei family cavalry behind her had volunteered for battle three times.

Nobody's afraid.

These veterans have been holding back for too long. Golden City was besieged for a month, and Huainan fell in a single day. Now the Eight Princes' Alliance is right in front of them, and everyone wants to rush in and fight.

But Liu Jingshuang did not give the order.

Because Wei Zhao didn't move.

She knows him too well.

Wei Zhao did not not want to kill.

He was waiting.

Wait until those rebel kings in the valley bite their own bones, wait until the Black Mountain Army, the Red Blade Army, and the Iron Ridge Army are suspicious of each other, and wait until the so-called leader of the Eight Kings Alliance becomes a joke.

If the new Wu army were to charge in at this point, they could certainly win, but many people would die.

not worth.

Wei Zhao's most valuable possession right now isn't his sword, but the lives of the new army.

These people should be used to establish military merit and conquer the world; they shouldn't be wasted on the rebellious king's indiscriminate attacks before his death.

At the south entrance, Huo Qingluan did not rush forward.

She only allowed the shield formation to advance inch by inch, with crossbowmen taking turns, and torches illuminating the retreat route.

Someone asked her why she didn't attack.

Huo Qingluan only looked at the array diagram.

"The valley is in chaos."

"If we rush in, we will find their common enemy."

The garrison commander was stunned for a moment, a chill running down his spine.

Correct.

The reason the rebel kings are fighting each other now is because they have temporarily forgotten about the new martial arts.

Once the Xinwu army enters the valley, they may be forced to regroup.

Perhaps we should wait.

Wait until they've slaughtered their own people until their hands are sore.

The western camp.

When Liu Jingshuang rode up to Wei Zhao's side, it was already past midnight in the valley.

Under the moonlight, fires lit up one after another in Black Wind Ridge, and shouts of battle rose and fell.

Occasionally, fleeing soldiers would rush out, only to be driven back by crossbow bolts as soon as they reached the opening.

Liu Jingshuang looked at Wei Zhao.

"Your Majesty, why not attack?"

Wei Zhao, dressed in white, stood at the front of the formation, holding a command arrow in his hand, but hesitated to strike.

He gazed at Black Wind Ridge with a calm expression.

"What's the rush?"

Liu Jingshuang remained silent.

Wei Zhao pointed to the valley.

"Han Dashan wants to be the leader of the alliance, but Zhou Laodao is not convinced. Qin Lie wants to protect the Tieling Army, Xu Zhongmou wants to protect his reputation, and the other kings just want to live. Liu Suan has run away, so they have lost one person who can hold the mud together."

He smiled.

"If we attack now, they will all curse me."

"If I don't go in, they'll just keep hurling insults at each other."

Liu Jingshuang understood.

It's cold.

But she liked this kind of cold.

The stupidest thing to do on the battlefield is to rush in and share the pain of the enemy who have already begun to commit suicide.

Wei Zhao wanted victory, not just to show off his bravery.

He continued, "We'll go in and collect the bodies after they've finished killing themselves."

Another scream came from the valley.

Some people are shouting that the King of Han has been kidnapped, some are shouting that the Red Blade Army has rebelled, and some are shouting that the Tieling Army is not coming to the aid of the Black Mountain Army.

The sounds were all mixed together, making it impossible to tell who was who.

Wei Zhao did not move.

Liu Jingshuang did not try to persuade her further.

That night, the sounds of fighting never ceased within Black Wind Ridge.