An enemy general brandished a broadsword and roared as he charged toward Chen Qingwan.
Chen Qingwan sneered, dodged to the side, and thrust out her steel knife with lightning speed, striking the other party's throat.
The general's eyes widened, blood gushed from his mouth, and he collapsed to the ground.
"Kill! Fight for Datong!"
Chen Qingwan raised her steel knife high and shouted sharply.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
The Imperial Guards shouted in unison, their morale soaring, like a flood bursting its banks, completely overwhelming the enemy.
The night in Jingzhou should have been a time of singing, dancing, and revelry.
But now, the shouts of battle are deafening, and flames are shooting into the sky, reflecting on Zhang Qi's face, which is contorted with terror.
He lay in the rocking chair, enjoying the "special service" of the doctor removing the metal plate from his cheek.
The moment the metal piece was pulled out, the excruciating pain made him scream uncontrollably.
But the roar was quickly drowned out by a chaotic cacophony of shouts.
"Oh no! The Imperial Guards have stormed the city! Run!"
The servant's voice was as sharp as a broken gong, blasting in Zhang Qi's ears.
Zhang Qi suddenly fell off the rocking chair, clutching his bleeding cheek.
He stared incredulously at the servant who had brought the news.
"Bullshit! How could we possibly breach the city gates so quickly? My city gates are impregnable..."
Before he could finish speaking, the hall was already in chaos.
The maids and servants scattered like ants on a hot pan.
They knocked over tables and chairs, shattered porcelain, and let out piercing screams and cries.
Zhang Qi's confidants remained relatively calm.
He rushed to Zhang Qi's side, his face pale, and advised:
"My lord, the situation is hopeless. Let's escape quickly! As long as we're alive, we can always fight another day!"
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