“We won.” Wu Shangzhi nodded emphatically. “A resounding victory.”
The soldier smiled, but as he smiled, tears streamed down his face: "Then...that's good...my parents...can rest in peace now..."
He closed his eyes and never opened them again.
Wu Shangzhi stood in the camp, looking at the wounded soldiers all over the place, his heart heavy.
He won the battle, but at a great cost.
Two thousand casualties is a heavy blow for an army of fifteen thousand.
Countless men from Hedong and Guanzhong died in battle in the distant Western Regions.
Fortunately, they defeated Wuhan, severely wounded him, and forced him to flee westward toward his intended destination.
"General," Guo Luo quietly appeared behind him, "the statistics are complete. Our army has lost over a thousand warhorses, used up half of its arrows, and exhausted all its thunderbolts..."
After a long silence, Wu Shangzhi asked, "What about Loulan?"
"They are willing to provide food and supplies, but they require us to station troops for protection."
“I can agree to that,” Wu Shangzhi said. “In addition, send someone back to Yumen Pass to report the victory, and at the same time request reinforcements and supplies. The war in the Western Regions… is not over yet.”
"yes."
After Guo Luo withdrew, Wu Shangzhi walked out of the camp alone.
The desert night is bitterly cold.
The starry sky is dazzling, and the Milky Way is like a ribbon.
He recalled what Zhao Muyun had told him before the expedition: "Xiao Wu, the war in the Western Regions is not only to relieve the siege of Loulan, but also to open up trade routes, intimidate other countries, and let the dragon flag of the Great Yin fly all over the north and south of Tianshan."
The evacuation of Loulan is a good start.
But the road ahead is still long.
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