I was living in the Five Dynasties period, just after crossing the Zhongdu Bridge.

The area around Danzhou is mostly loess gullies.

The road appears wide, but in reality, there are earthen plateaus several meters high on both sides, with a winding ancient path in the middle, shaped like a chicken intestine.

For large cavalry units, this terrain is a death trap. They cannot spread out their formation, cannot run fast, and once their two ends are blocked, they are trapped like turtles in a jar.

But for these hundred or so Khitan cavalrymen, this was an unavoidable path to making money.

The reason is nothing more than greed.

In the Khitan language, this so-called "grass rush" was actually a very common logistical supply method.

Historically, when nomadic cavalry marched south, they always relied on the enemy for provisions.

Wherever the army passed, the people were responsible for the food and supplies of the men and horses.

Thirty miles south of Danzhou City, such a tragedy unfolded.

More than a hundred cavalrymen were surrounding about three or four hundred ragged civilians.

Most of these people were villagers from nearby areas, and some were refugees who had just escaped the war and wanted to return home from the mountains.

Unfortunately, instead of the arrival of the mighty Han army, they ran into this pack of hungry wolves who hadn't had enough to eat.

Beside the procession, more than a dozen corpses lay scattered on the ground, most of them young men who dared to resist.

If a discerning person were here to carefully observe this arrogant and domineering cavalry, they would be able to discover the tricks of the trade.

These hundred or so people are actually just for show.

In the Liao military system, there were established rules for the teams responsible for gathering supplies and supplies.

As the saying goes, there is one righteous official, one assistant, and one scoundrel.

Each soldier in the regular army, clad in iron armor, riding a fine horse, and carrying a strong bow, was accompanied by an auxiliary soldier from the Xi tribe or the Bohai Kingdom, and a guard responsible for feeding the horses and cooking for the camp.

These three people make up a complete small team.

The current force looks to have over a hundred people and over a hundred horses, but the actual Khitan regulars in heavy armor number only fifty or sixty at most.

The remaining people were either Bohai people wearing leather armor or servants who simply wore cloth clothes.

As for the leader, he was dressed in a brocade robe, covered with iron armor, and had a gold-inlaid curved sword hanging at his waist. Judging from his demeanor, he should be a shrewd and composed man.

In the Khitan military system, "Xiangwen" means general, but in such a small guerrilla unit, it usually refers to a low-ranking officer, such as a centurion.

"Why are you crying?!"

A strange, off-key Chinese voice rang out.

A Liao soldier suddenly raised his hand and lashed the old man beside him with his leather whip.

The old man was already hunched over, carrying a bundle on his back. When the whip struck him, his skin was torn open and he fell to the ground with a scream.

A young child with his hair in a bun saw this and ran over crying, wanting to help his grandfather up.

The Khitan man, annoyed by what he heard, kicked the child in the chest again, sending him sprawling to the ground, unable to breathe for a long time.

The old man quickly got up, hugged the child, and examined him carefully, tears streaming down his face.

"The Liao emperor is gone, but we're not! As long as we still have our swords, this land is our pasture!"

He flicked the leather whip in his hand.

Although the Khitans were barbaric, they were fluent in a few words of Chinese.

They especially fluently learned those insulting Chinese phrases.

"What kind of look is that?"

The Khitan pointed at a man glaring at him and chuckled.

"You're not convinced? Your emperor, Shi Chonggui, has to kowtow and call our Great Liao emperor 'Grandpa'! If our Great Liao emperor is your emperor's grandpa, then we are your grandpas!"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding cavalrymen, who also had shaved heads, burst into laughter.

"Come on, call me 'Dad' and let me hear it."

The Khitan soldier seemed to find the game quite interesting, so he drew his scimitar from his waist, stepped forward, and held it to the old man's neck, pressing the blade down slightly to draw a line of blood.

"Come, call me father! If you call me father, this child will not be killed!"

Seeing that the old man remained silent, he continued, "What? Your emperor can be a puppet emperor, but you can't be your common people?"

The old man was so frightened that he could only kneel on the ground and kowtow desperately, unable to utter a word.

"Not calling?"

The Khitan soldier's face darkened, and he swung his scimitar down suddenly.

A flash of cold light, and a fine head rolled to the ground, the headless corpse still tightly clutching the child in its arms.

"That's unfilial! Aren't you Han Chinese the most valuing of filial piety?!"

"A son who doesn't recognize his father deserves to die!"

The Khitan soldier laughed loudly, placed his curved sword against the neck of the young boy, and pointed his whip at the man glaring at him.

"Kneel down and call me father."

Ever since Shi Jingtang ceded the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun and proclaimed himself emperor, it seems as if a piece of the backbone of the people of the Central Plains has been forcibly removed.

Although the Jin dynasty has fallen, this sense of humiliation seems to be etched into their very bones, becoming a source of amusement for the barbarians.

The man trembled all over, his eyes filled with humiliation, but he still managed to shout out.

"......father."

"Hahahaha!"

After laughing, the Khitan soldier was about to retract his scimitar, but when he had only retracted it halfway, he suddenly exerted force and was about to slash at the child's neck!

However, the knife ultimately failed to strike.

collapse!

The bowstring twanged like thunder!

An arrow flew through the air, its aim was poor, and it missed the Khitan soldier's throat, but it still pierced his thigh.

"what!"

The Khitan soldier let out a scream, and the knife in his hand clattered to the ground.

Immediately following was the thunderous sound of horses' hooves rolling in from afar.

"Han army?! Where did this Han army come from?"

Na Xiangwen's expression changed drastically. He pushed away the woman in his arms and drew the curved knife from his waist.

But this reaction was ultimately too slow.

If the two armies were to face each other head-on, Shen Lie's half-baked cavalry would be no match for these Khitans who had grown up on horseback.

But things are different now.

It was midday, and most of the Khitan soldiers had dismounted. Some were slaughtering chickens and sheep, while others were taking off their armor to cool off. Most of their warhorses were tied up under a few trees.

This was originally a standard procedure when raiding enemy strongholds, since no one would be fully armored when facing a group of unarmed civilians.

"kill!"

Shen Lie took the lead.

He lowered his body, letting his warhorse use its momentum to crash into the enemy ranks.

With a loud bang, a Xi tribe auxiliary soldier was sent flying by Shen Lie's warhorse, the sound of his ribs shattering clearly audible.

Shen Lie swung his sword and, taking advantage of the horse's speed, lifted the head of a Khitan man beside him into the air.

"Mount up! Hurry up and mount up!"

The man was still roaring, trying to organize a counterattack.

He was a veteran and knew that once he and his men were on horseback, these dozens of Han cavalrymen would be no match for them.

But he didn't get his chance.

"Stop them! Don't let them mount their horses!"

Because on the other side, Zhao Kuangyin also led his troops out to fight.

"Don't panic! Form formation! Form formation!"

Na Xiangwen tried to rally the panicked regular army.

But Zhao Kuangyin was already right in front of him!

He swung his baton in a wide arc and smashed it hard at a Khitan soldier who was trying to mount his horse.

"Screw your formation!"

Bang!

The Khitan soldier didn't even have time to scream before he died!