His cavalry was almost wiped out yesterday, his infantry couldn't catch up, and his archers couldn't keep up. He could only watch helplessly as the enemy tore him apart like a pack of wolves.
This is just the beginning.
For an entire day, Wu Shangzhi's three thousand light cavalry were divided into several teams and took turns harassing the enemy.
Sometimes they would make a commotion from the east, sometimes they would set fires from the west, sometimes they would launch an arrow attack from the south, and sometimes they would make a show of force from the north.
Yang Chaojun was exhausted from running around, and his soldiers were not getting any rest. They were under high tension and would panic at the slightest disturbance.
In the afternoon, another cavalry unit raided the temporary stables and grain storage area behind the camp. Although the defenders fought back desperately, dozens of warhorses were startled and scattered, and some of the already scarce grain was burned.
As night fell, the disturbances subsided.
But no one in the camp could sleep peacefully.
Everyone strained their ears, on tenterhooks, fearing that the swift-moving Grim Reapers might emerge from the darkness once more.
Yang Chao inspected the camp and saw only despair in everyone's eyes. The groans of the wounded were especially clear in the night, and news of the lack of supplies had already spread, causing morale to waver.
"General, this can't go on."
Yang Hong looked exhausted. "The enemy isn't engaging us in direct combat; they're just harassing us relentlessly. Our troops aren't getting any rest, our supplies are running low, and our morale is on the verge of collapse. Let's retreat as we came!"
"Retreat the same way?"
Yang Chao smiled wryly, "We haven't heard anything from my uncle. And the enemy is all cavalry, and it seems they've just increased their numbers. Given our current situation, how many of us can make it back?"
Yang Hong was speechless.
Three thousand cavalrymen were already a headache for them; if more cavalrymen came, they would be unable to move an inch.
Yang Chao gazed at the pitch-black night outside the camp, as if he could see those ghostly cavalrymen lurking somewhere.
"If we still haven't heard from our uncle after one more night, we'll have no choice but to retreat back to Jiannan via the mountain roads."
"Send another capable scout, at all costs, to contact the commander-in-chief in the south!"
Yang Chao gritted his teeth and said, "In addition, starting tomorrow, we will shrink our camp, strengthen nighttime vigilance, and set up more antler traps. Food and fodder will be centrally allocated, and the wounded... should be housed in caves as much as possible."
However, Wu Shangzhi will not give him time.
Early the next morning, countless cavalrymen appeared around Yang Chaojun, clearly twice as many as the day before.
Moreover, a large number of soldiers appeared on the mountain roads of Qishan.
Yang Chao stood on a high slope, looking at the dilapidated camp in the morning light and the cavalry figures on the distant plains, and felt a chill in his heart.
He knew he had missed the best opportunity to retreat.
At this moment, he was even more unaware that his uncle Yang Yan, whom he had been unable to contact, had already left Wannian with an army of 30,000.
Yang Yan made what he considered the most rational and advantageous choice for the Yang family, but in doing so, he completely abandoned Yang Chao's troops in a desperate situation.
What fate awaits Yang Chao is unknown.
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