Tens of thousands of troops, just as they had come, transformed into a black torrent of iron, carrying a chilling aura, and rapidly retreated towards the Northern Di royal court in the west.
Along the way, Wuzhu was extremely anxious, constantly sending out fast horses to urge him on, wishing he could sprout wings and fly back to the royal court.
The news of the defeat in Longyou and the loss of power in Hebei kept echoing in his mind, and his fear and murderous intent towards Zhao Muyun and the regime of the Little Prince of Jin grew day by day.
However, just as he was leading his army on a rapid march for several days and was about to enter the territory controlled by the royal court, another fast horse from the south, foaming at the mouth, brought news that almost made him fall off his horse.
"Report! Left Wise King! Urgent military intelligence! Xijing... Xijing has fallen to Zhao Muyun of the Hedong Army! The Left Chancellor Yang Yan of Fengchao has been completely annihilated and has fled alone to Jiannan!"
"What?! Xijing has been lost too?"
Wuzhu suddenly reined in his warhorse, and the powerful momentum caused the horse to rear up and let out a long neigh.
His face was filled with extreme shock and disbelief, and the veins on his hand gripping the reins bulged.
Xi'an!
That was a major town second only to the capital, and one of the symbols of the dynasty!
It changed hands just like that?
It still ended up in Zhao Muyun's hands?
He stood there for a moment, as if processing this earth-shattering news.
Immediately, an even more intense rage and a profound sense of crisis erupted in his chest like a volcano!
"drive!"
He said no more, his face turning ashen, and lashed his warhorse's rump with a whip. The horse, in pain, bolted away like an arrow.
"All troops, accelerate! Spare no effort! We must return to the royal court at the fastest speed!"
He turned and roared, his voice carrying a hint of panic that even he himself didn't realize.
He had only one thought at that moment:
We must immediately persuade Father Khan to launch a decisive southern expedition while Zhao Muyun has not yet fully assimilated Xijing and while he is fighting with Li Jingang!
We must not give this formidable opponent any more time to grow.
The Northern Barbarians' ambition to dominate must not be thwarted by a suddenly rising power.
The wolves of the grasslands must kill the dragon in its den before it takes flight!
......
The shouts of battle, cries of agony, and the clashing of weapons within Xijing City haunted Yang Yan like a nightmare, and even though he had escaped dozens of miles away, those sounds still followed him relentlessly.
Yang Long's resolute determination to die broke his heart!
He lay prone on his horse, with two loyal guards, Yang Meng and Yang Fen, protecting him on either side, as they fled south in haste along the rugged and difficult Ziwu Road mountain path.
The purple robes and jade belts that once symbolized supreme power have long since disappeared, replaced by ordinary soldier's uniforms stained with mud and blood.
His hair was disheveled, and his face was covered in a mixture of sweat, dust, and still-wet tear stains.
The former strategic brilliance and dominance have now turned into a deep-seated weariness and heart-wrenching regret.
The mountain wind whistled through the gaps in the forest, adding to the desolate feeling of being at the end of one's rope.
"Prime Minister, hang in there a little longer! Ziwu Pass is just ahead! Once we pass through the pass and enter Jiannan Circuit, we'll be safe!"
While cautiously observing what was behind him, Yang Meng encouraged Yang Yan in a hoarse voice.
His left arm was stabbed during the breakout from the Prime Minister's residence. It was only hastily bandaged, and blood continued to seep out, staining the bandage red.
Yang Yan struggled to lift his head, looking at the misty mountain path ahead, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Safety? Where is safety?
The foundation of Xijing collapsed in an instant; Yang Fan died on the battlefield; Yang Yi's fate was unknown; and he himself was like a stray dog...
All of this stems from that young man named Zhao Muyun!
Hatred gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake, but more than that, he felt a sense of powerlessness as if all was lost.
Just as the three men and their horses were exhausted, and the mounts were foaming at the mouth and almost completely worn out.
In the distance, the outline of the pass wall could be vaguely seen at the mountain pass, and the hope of survival was right in front of us.
However--
"Da da da... da da da da..."
From behind, the dull, thunderous sound of horses' hooves approached from afar, like a death knell, pounding on the already tense nerves of the three.
Dust billowed up, and even in the mountain paths and forests, the rolling yellow dragon could be seen rapidly approaching.
"Oh no! It's pursuers! They're so fast!"
Yang Fen turned around and looked back. His face turned ashen, and his voice trembled with despair.
Yang Yan's heart sank, his last glimmer of hope completely shattered.
He reined in his nearly collapsing warhorse, looked south towards the pass that seemed so close yet so far away, and sighed deeply, filled with the desolation of a hero's end: "Does Heaven intend to destroy me, Yang Wenyuan?"
There's always a way out, or perhaps fate wanted to play another trick on him.
Just then, from a more secluded, thorny hunter's path to the side, came a series of hurried footsteps and the sound of clashing weapons.
Yang Meng and Yang Fen immediately drew their swords and stood guard, protecting Yang Yan behind them.
A group of about a hundred men rushed out of the path, their helmets askew, their armor askew, their bodies covered in blood, and their faces filled with terror and exhaustion.
The young general at the head of the group, whose silver armor had long lost its luster, whose cloak was tattered and whose hair was disheveled, was none other than Yang Yi.
"uncle!"
Yang Yi was stunned when he saw Yang Yan in the road, then overjoyed and staggered over, "You...you're alright! That's great!"
His voice choked with emotion. Seeing Yang Yan safe and sound, all the fear and hard work of the past few days seemed to have been worthwhile.
"Yi'er!"
Yang Yan was also in tears, tightly gripping his nephew's arm, "You escaped too, that's wonderful!"
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