February 6th, Feihu Ridge, northern border of Weizhou.
The north wind was like a knife, whipping snowflakes that stung my face.
Tian Qing stood on the beacon tower at the ridge pass, squinting at the snowy plains to the north.
On the distant horizon, a dark mass of cavalry surged across the hills like a tide—the 30,000 iron cavalry of Wuzhu, the Left Wise King of the Northern Barbarians, were making a comeback.
"General, our scouts report that Wuzhu's vanguard of five thousand has reached within ten miles," Li Mao, the deputy general, reported in a low voice, his voice trembling slightly.
Li Mao was holding back his anger after his injury and defeat at Asakusa Beach last time.
Tian Qing didn't turn around, but asked, "Are all the villages ready?"
"The Seven Flying Fox Strongholds have ample arrows and rolling logs, and the flammable oil has been buried along both sides of the ridge path as you instructed. However..."
Li Mao hesitated, "We only have eight thousand defenders. Are we really going to face thirty thousand cavalry head-on?"
"Who said we should confront them head-on?" Tian Qing finally turned around.
The young governor's face was full of confidence.
He pointed to the winding ridge on the sand table and said, "Feihu Ridge is a strategically important place, so that one man can hold it against ten thousand. If Wuzhu wants to pass through here, he will have to pay with his life."
He paused, a cold glint in his eyes: "Besides, we're not guarding, we're waiting."
"Wait for what?"
Tian Qing looked southeast: "Wait for Governor Han Zhong to attack Youzhou, wait for the General to succeed in the Central Plains, and wait for Wuzhu to become impatient and his army to fall into disarray."
Li Mao suddenly realized: "That's why the general voluntarily abandoned the three forward outposts, luring the enemy deep into our territory..."
"It's not about luring the enemy, it's about inviting them into a trap."
Tian Qing sneered, "Wuzhu, that old fox, has been fighting us for two years. We've pretty much figured him out."
"The more vigilant you are, the more cautious he will be. If you reveal the slightest flaw, he will suspect a trap and dare not advance rashly."
He patted Li Mao on the shoulder: "Have the brothers retreat to the fourth village according to plan. Remember, retreat in a sorry state, leave behind some flags and gongs, and make it look like a complete rout."
"Understood, sir!"
An hour later, the Northern Di vanguard arrived at the Flying Fox Ridge Pass.
The leader was Wuzhu's eldest son, Ulun, who was twenty-six years old, exceptionally brave, but also impatient.
He stood before the mountain ridge, gazing at the abandoned banners of the Yin Army and the scattered grain sacks along the mountain path, a look of doubt flashing in his eyes.
"Prince, the Yin army has been routed. Should we pursue them?" the centurion asked.
Ulun sneered: "The Yin army is cunning and treacherous. Do they think I'm a three-year-old child with such an obvious trap?"
He waved his hand, "Order the entire army to set up camp where they are and wait for Father's army to arrive."
The three thousand cavalrymen set up camp on the spot and actually stopped pursuing.
When the news reached the four strongholds, Li Mao panicked: "General, they won't fall for it!"
Tian Qing laughed: "Not falling for it? Then let's add fuel to the fire."
That night, at midnight.
Suddenly, torches lit up the four villages of Feihu Ridge, and war drums resounded.
The gates of the stronghold swung open, and a troop of about a thousand Yin soldiers charged out, heading straight for the Northern Di camp.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
Chaos immediately broke out in the Northern Barbarian camp.
Ulun was startled awake from his sleep. He hurriedly put on his armor and mounted his horse, only to see the Yin army rush to within a hundred paces of the camp. Suddenly, they turned and ran, abandoning their armor and helmets as they fled.
"Chase them!" Ulun roared furiously. "A mere thousand men dare to raid our camp! Chase them! Leave no one alive!"
Three thousand cavalrymen poured out and chased after the fleeing Yin army soldiers into the mountains.
The mountain path became narrower and narrower, with steep cliffs on both sides.
Ulun chased after them for three miles, then suddenly reined in his horse: "Stop!"
He looked around, alarm bells ringing in his mind.
This terrain is too treacherous; what if there's an ambush...?
Just then, the fleeing Yin army suddenly stopped, turned around, and formed ranks.
The leading general lifted his helmet, revealing himself to be Tian Qing!
"Ulun brat, I've been waiting for you for a long time!" Tian Qing laughed.
Before he finished speaking, flames suddenly erupted on the cliffs on both sides.
Logs and boulders rained down like rain, and arrows flew like locusts.
Even more terrifying, a wall of fire suddenly burst into flames on the mountain road—the fire oil that had been buried beforehand had been ignited.
"We've fallen for their trap! Retreat! Retreat now!" Ulun shouted hoarsely.
But it was too late.
On the narrow mountain path, three thousand cavalrymen were crammed together, trampling each other.
The fire spread rapidly along the spilled oil, startling the warhorses, which ran wildly in all directions.
"Release the arrows!" Tian Qing gave the order.
Arrows rained down, covering the entire mountain path.
The Northern Di cavalry became easy targets, falling in droves.
With his personal guards fighting desperately to protect him, Ulun fought his way out and escaped back to the mountain pass.
A headcount revealed that more than half of the three thousand vanguard had been lost, and their warhorses were almost entirely wiped out.
"Tian Qing, you son of a bitch!" Ulun's eyes were bloodshot with rage.
But he didn't know that this was just the beginning.
......
On the eighth day of the second month, Wuzhu personally led the main force to Feihu Ridge.
When he saw the tragic state of his son's army, the Left Wise King of the Northern Barbarians turned ashen-faced.
“Father, I underestimated the enemy. Please punish me!” Ulun knelt down to beg for forgiveness.
Wuzhu remained silent for a long time before slowly saying, "Get up. It's not your fault; it's that the other side knows us too well."
He walked to the foot of the ridge and looked at the winding ridge road: "A year ago, I led an army of 100,000 south and was about to reach the enemy's capital. I never expected that Zhao Muyun and Li Jingang would join forces to cut off my retreat in Youzhou."
"Now, we've actually joined forces with Li Jingang to deal with Zhao Muyun!"
Ulen gritted his teeth: "Then this time..."
“This time is different.” A cold glint flashed in Wuzhu’s eyes. “Li Jingang promised to give us the land of Yanbei, so we must head south. Moreover…”
He lowered his voice, "Our scouts report that Han Zhong in Hedong is gathering troops to attack Youzhou, leaving Jinyang with few soldiers. As long as we break through Feihu Ridge, Hedong will be ours for the taking."
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