The night is as dark as ink and the north wind is biting.
The city wall of Jingbian Military Town stood in the darkness like a scarred, silent giant, enduring the baptism of war.
On the top of the city wall, the light of the torches flickered, illuminating the tired but determined faces.
Zhong Dahu stood behind the battlement, his bronze face covered with marks of cold wind and blood.
Only those eyes still flashed with unquestionable determination in the darkness.
Zhong Meng, Shi Yong and Xi Sheng came to say their final goodbyes.
"Brother Zhong, why don't you consider it again? I'll cover your retreat!" Shi Yong asked.
Zhong Dahu looked at his sons Zhong Meng, Shi Yong, and Xi Sheng, and said in a hoarse but resolute voice, "No need to say anything more! I've made up my mind!"
"Jingbian Military Town is my root. I have guarded it for more than ten years, from a small soldier to the position I am today!"
"Lord Zhao trusts me and uses me, and Sima Han has entrusted this line of defense to me. How can I, Zhong Dahu, abandon the city and flee?"
"Leave immediately! Don't delay, or you'll be discovered by the Tartars!"
"Father!" Zhong Menghu had tears in his eyes and wanted to argue.
"Shut up!"
Zhong Dahu interrupted harshly, slapping his son's shoulder so hard that Zhong Meng stumbled. "Remember! You are my son! Don't cry like a woman!"
"Keep my brothers alive and kill as many Tartars as possible, and that will be your filial duty to me!"
"Work hard in the future and don't embarrass me!"
He turned to Shi Yong and Xi Sheng, clasped his fists and bowed deeply: "Brother Shi, Brother Xi, my son and these five hundred brothers are in your care!"
"Retreat to Shuozhou and tell Han Sima that I, Zhong Dahu, did not embarrass him!"
"When I go over there, I will definitely become brothers with Zhao Muyun!"
Shi Yong and Xi Sheng's eyes were hot and their throats were choked with sobs. They knew that any words would be pale at this moment.
They also clasped their fists and bowed respectfully in return: "Brother Zhong (Captain), take care! We will definitely live up to your trust!"
At midnight, a crack quietly opened at the south gate of Jingbian Military Town.
Shi Yong and Xi Sheng, along with Zhong Meng and more than a thousand wounded but resolute soldiers, quietly blended into the night.
They retreated rapidly towards Wuzhou City along the path they had explored in advance.
On the top of the city wall, Zhong Dahu watched their figures disappear into the darkness, then slowly turned around.
There were only less than 500 wounded soldiers and veterans left by his side who were willing to stay with him and live and die with him.
Many people supported each other, leaning their weapons on the ground, but the same fire burned in their eyes.
“Brothers!”
Zhong Dahu's voice spread in the night wind. It was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. "Are you afraid of death?"
"Don't be afraid!"
A sparse but unusually firm response.
"good!"
Zhong Dahu grinned, revealing his white teeth. He looked rather ferocious in the firelight. "We are all men! There are no cowards among the men of Jingbian Military Town!"
"Tomorrow we'll show those Tartars that we, the Jingbian Military Town, are spineless!"
"Even if I die, I'll take someone with me!"
"Kill one and you'll break even, kill two and you'll make a profit!"
The soldiers roared in response, their morale surprisingly rallying in the desperate situation.
…
The next day, dawn.
The Tartar camp was filled with horns and drums of war!
As Wuliangha said, he dispatched nearly 20,000 troops to attack the city.
The black mass of Tatars swarmed towards Jingbian Military Town like locusts.
The final decisive battle breaks out in an instant!
Arrows poured down like a rainstorm, and the huge battering ram, pushed by the fierce Tatars, hit the city gate that had already been unable to bear the weight!
Ladders were erected like a jungle, and the fearless leather-armored Tartars climbed up while howling!
"Shoot arrows! Throw logs and rocks!"
Zhong Dahu's hoarse roar echoed on the city walls.
The remaining defenders burst out with their last fighting strength, throwing the few remaining arrows, bricks, stones, and dismantled beams and wood down madly!
The screams, collisions, and shouts were deafening!
People fell every moment, and the city wall turned into a bloody meat grinder.
Zhong Dahu waved the Embroidered Spring Sword awarded by Zhao Muyun at the graduation ceremony of the first military training class.
He would rush to wherever a gap was opened, and with a flash of his sword, a Tartar would be chopped off the city wall!
His body was covered with wounds and his battle robe was soaked with blood, but he was completely unaware.
The battle lasted for two hours from early morning. The defenders' resistance became weaker and weaker. Their arrows and logs had long been exhausted, and a brutal hand-to-hand combat began.
The city walls were breached in many places, and the Tatars continued to pour onto the city walls.
There were fewer and fewer veterans around Zhong Dahu, and he himself was stabbed several times, bleeding profusely, but he still fought to the death!
"Hour! The north gate...the north gate was knocked open!" A personal soldier came running to report, covered in blood.
Zhong Dahu heard this, and a final glint of sternness flashed in his eyes: "Brothers! Follow me down the city! Block the city gate! Kill!"
He took the last few dozen remaining soldiers and staggered down the city wall, rushing towards the open north gate!
There, a tide of Di soldiers were pouring in!
"Kill!" Zhong Dahu let out the last roar of his life, and pounced into the enemy group like a wounded lion!
The sword flashed and blood splattered!
He and his last brothers used their bodies to form a final barrier, blocking the city gate and engaging in the most brutal hand-to-hand combat with the influx of Tatars!
Brothers fell one after another, and the space around Zhong Dahu became smaller and smaller.
He didn't know how many times he had been stabbed all over his body, his vision had begun to blur, and he was only able to hold on by his willpower.
In a trance, he seemed to see the soldier who was patrolling on the city wall that year, and saw the figure of his son Zhong Meng leaving in tears.
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