bloody battle
A howling wind whipped up a cloud of yellow sand, plunging the world into darkness. The sand and gravel scraped against his armor like blades, producing a teeth-grinding sound. Su Jing squinted, his eyes stinging from the sandstorm, his fingers pressed tightly against the map. The parchment scroll trembled violently in the wind, the rivers and mountains marked on it already blurred by the sand.
"Your Majesty!" The strategist stumbled into the tent, his beard covered in sand. "Our food supplies can only last for another half month at most..." The moment the tent flap was lifted, a gust of wind swept in sand and dust, nearly extinguishing the flickering oil lamp on the table. The strategist hesitated and said, "Your Majesty, the sandstorm is too strong. The soldiers can barely open their eyes. If we continue, we're afraid we'll all be trapped in this storm."
Su Jing remained silent, his gaze still fixed on the map.
In late autumn, yellow sand filled the sky. Since Su Jing ordered the pursuit, they had been searching for three days without success. What was worse, due to the strong sandstorm, their compass was constantly being interfered with, and they had almost lost their way in the desert.
The oil lamp on the table flickered on and off. Chu Yiran looked at the bloodshot eyes of Su Jing, pursed his lips, and turned his face away.
For three days, the two had not exchanged a single word. Chu Yiran knew Su Jing's temperament; he wouldn't turn back until he hit a brick wall.
"Report—!" The scout scrambled into the tent, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. "There's a canyon twenty miles to the northeast! The stream isn't frozen yet; we can station troops there!"
"Good!" Su Jing slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "The entire army shall immediately advance into the canyon and quickly station troops there."
By the time they reached the canyon, it was already dusk. Steep rock walls on both sides of the canyon blocked most of the wind and sand, and the water source at the bottom of the valley was crystal clear. The soldiers licked their chapped lips and excitedly rushed towards the water source.
Chu Yiran leaned against the rock wall and unfastened his wrist armor, revealing the skin and flesh chafed by the reins. The wind and sand swept in and took the opportunity to penetrate his skin and flesh, causing him to frown subconsciously.
Suddenly, his hand was gently grasped, and a cool ointment was applied to his wrist. Su Jing bent down and blew on the wound, her movements very gentle as she applied the medicine.
"No need to trouble Your Majesty." Chu Yiran withdrew his hand and stood up to leave.
"Do we really have to do this?" Su Jing asked wearily.
“Ah Ran,” Su Jing pulled him back to his side, “Now that we’ve found a water source, once the sandstorm subsides, perhaps we can find traces of the Helian clan.”
Chu Yiran's eyes remained icy: "Su Jing, are you still going to be so stubborn?"
The atmosphere fell into an awkward silence again. Su Jing remained silent for a while, then gripped his hand tightly: "How about this, you cast a divination, and whether it's auspicious or inauspicious will be determined by fate, how about that? If it's an inauspicious divination, I will immediately order a return to Yanjing; if it's an auspicious divination, give me five more days. If I still can't find the Helian clan within five days, I will listen to you and withdraw my troops."
Chu Yiran was silent for a moment, then finally nodded: "Okay, you said it yourself."
Chu Yiran instructed his men to prepare the necessary items. The divination platform was set up deep inside the cave. He washed his hands and burned incense, the smoke swirling in the cave.
Outside the cave, a fierce wind howled, causing the candlelight to flicker. Su Jing reached out to straighten the incense burner, his sleeve lightly brushing against the table.
"Qian represents Heaven, Kun represents Earth..." Chu Yiran tossed out the tortoise shell. The shell spun on the stone platform, finally settling in place after a moment. He incredulously stroked the patterns on the shell, "...Auspicious?"
Before Chu Yiran could react, Su Jing had already rushed out of the cave, holding the tortoise shell high: "Heaven blesses Nansu! The Imperial Advisor himself divined that this battle will be won!"
Everyone stopped what they were doing, their eyes all turning to Su Jing. Who didn't know Chu Yiran's divination skills? In an instant, cheers echoed throughout the canyon. That night, the soldiers sang their homeland's battle songs around the fire, their recent gloom completely dispelled.
"With the Imperial Advisor divining, I can finally rest easy!"
"What's there to worry about? We've all followed His Majesty all the way from Jinling!"
"Once this battle is over, I can go home, just in time for my son's one-month celebration!"
...
Outside the tent, the soldiers' chatter drifted over, but Chu Yiran's heart grew heavier.
His divinations have never been wrong over the years... Could it be that he's just overthinking things? Perhaps he should listen to Su Jing and continue searching?
At this moment, Su Jing lifted the curtain and entered. Seeing Chu Yiran's worried expression, she stepped forward and placed the dry rations in his hands, gently putting her arm around his shoulder: "Alright, Yiran, even if we can't find the Helian clan, we will definitely go home in five days. I promise you."
Chu Yiran, as if grasping at the last straw, stared at Su Jing: "It's a promise, if we still can't find it, we'll definitely go back in five days!"
Su Jing swallowed hard: "Definitely."
——
The embers of the campfire had not yet completely died down, and the air still held the joy of last night's songs and the aroma of baked bread. After a rare moment of relaxation, the soldiers were all immersed in the deepest slumber before dawn.
However, the sky did not brighten as usual.
The next morning, they were not awakened by sunlight, but by a suffocating, almost stagnant darkness and a howling wind. Outside the tents, the familiar morning scenery of the canyon was no longer there, but a sandstorm that made it impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face. The sky was as dark as night, and the wind whipped up sand and gravel, pounding the tents and rock walls with a terrifying roar.
"What's going on?!"
"Sandstorm! Another sandstorm is coming!"
"Wait... there's a sound in the wind..."
...
Panic spread like wildfire throughout the camp, and then—
"Woo-woo-woo-woo-"
The deep, penetrating sound of the bull horn pierced through the howling wind and suddenly rang out from all directions. Amidst the rolling sand walls, countless ghostly figures emerged indistinctly.
"Enemy attack—! It's Northern Qi soldiers! We're surrounded!!"
The piercing alarm was instantly torn apart by the gale.
The Northern Qi soldiers seemed like ghosts emerging from a sandstorm hell, using the overwhelming sandstorm as perfect cover to silently complete their encirclement. They were clearly extremely adapted to this harsh weather; their faces were covered with sand-proof cloths, their eyes were as sharp as eagles, and they still moved swiftly in this environment.
"Su Jing, you've finally come. You haven't disappointed me, hahaha!" Helian Chong's maniacal laughter swept in with the wind, filled with mockery and cruelty. "This auspicious place will be your final resting place. Are you satisfied?! Kill them all—! Leave no one alive!"
The long-awaited battle in the northern desert began in the darkest hour of dawn, beneath the curtain of swirling sand, in a bloody frenzy.
"Shield formation! Front row, shields! Pikemen next, archers, fire volleys when the opportunity arises!" Su Jing's voice pierced through the chaos, clearly issuing the order. "Don't panic! Back against the rock wall, form a circular formation! No matter how many of them there are, they won't be able to swallow us whole!"
The emperor's composure acted like a stabilizing force, quickly restoring order to the panicked Southern Su elite troops. After all, they were a battle-hardened army; their survival instinct and rigorous training instantly overcame their initial panic. Heavy shields slammed into the sand, forming a makeshift barrier, and spears, like a forest, thrust out from the gaps in the shields, attempting to repel the surging Northern Qi cavalry.
In an instant, the entrance to the canyon was filled with the deafening sounds of battle. Weapons clashed violently, sparks flashing frequently in the dim sandstorm, and screams, roars, the neighing of horses, and the howling of the wind and sand intertwined.
Chu Yiran had also reached Su Jing's side, his sword flashing as he protected his flank. Before long, they blocked the first wave of attacks from Northern Qi.
Su Jing's eyes sharpened, and he said to his personal guards, "Quickly set off signal smoke! Get the nearby reinforcements over here!"
"Yes!" The guard quickly untied the specially made bamboo tube from his back and pulled the fuse hard.
laugh--!
A column of crimson smoke suddenly shot up, carrying a pungent sulfurous smell, attempting to tear through the dim yellow sand curtain.
However, the striking crimson that was originally bright enough to illuminate dozens of miles under a clear sky was now swallowed up by the raging sandstorm, just like blood dripping into ink. It was instantly swallowed up and blurred. After rising only a dozen meters, it could no longer be seen and completely disappeared into the chaotic sandstorm.
The guard frowned deeply: "Your Majesty, this won't do. The sandstorm is too intense. Our signal smoke won't even last for half an incense stick's time. We might not be able to see the reinforcements!"
Su Jing gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white from gripping the sword hilt so tightly: "Never mind that! Bundle all the remaining signal smoke together and light them!"
The guards hurriedly bundled more than a dozen signal smokes together and ignited them with a tinderbox. The moment the sparks flew, thick smoke billowed up, three times brighter than when a single smoker was lit. The crimson smoke column struggled to rise in the sandstorm, briefly tearing open a dim yellow gap, but it didn't last long, and only scattered smoke dust remained in the air.
On the sand dune not far away, Helian Chong's lips curled into a cruel sneer.
He was in no hurry to launch a full-scale attack.
Relying on their familiarity with the terrain and the cover of the sandstorm, the Northern Qi army did not engage the Southern Su army in direct combat. Like a cunning pack of wolves, they constantly roamed and harassed the enemy from the perimeter. Arrows rained down from unexpected angles, specifically targeting weak points in the formation and soldiers attempting to fetch water. The Southern Su archers, however, suffered from obstructed vision, rendering their counterattacks largely ineffective.
Even more devastating was the fact that the South Soviet soldiers' stamina was being rapidly depleted by the relentless harassment and the harsh environment. Gale-force winds whipped up sand, making their nostrils bloodshot, their eyes difficult to open, and every breath incredibly difficult. Their heavy armor felt like hot irons in the sandstorm, the sand beneath their feet was soft and offered little foothold, and each swing of their weapons required several times the usual effort.
Helian Chong's laughter rang out again, filled with mockery and smugness of complete control: "Su Jing! Stop wasting your energy! Within a hundred miles, all you see is yellow sand and vultures waiting to collect your corpses!"
The Northern Qi soldiers' offensive intensified abruptly with his words, like a tightening noose. Beset by internal and external pressures, the Southern Su soldiers' circular formation began to crack.
The yellow sand still filled the sky, the stench of blood was so thick it was impossible to dispel, and time lost its meaning in the midst of the battle. Chu Yiran's sword blade was already chipped, and each time he raised it felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn't remember how many enemies he had killed; he only felt a crimson blur before his eyes, and all he could hear was the sound of the wind, the slamming of swords into flesh, and his own heavy breathing.
Just as his strength was nearly exhausted and his steps began to falter, the warm body pressed against his back paused slightly. Then, he heard Su Jing's hoarse, almost broken voice, filled with unprecedented exhaustion and a barely perceptible sob, mingling with the wind and sand as it reached his ears: "A-Ran... this time... it seems I really was wrong..."
Su Jingge, having just delivered the slash, reversed his grip and plunged the sword into the enemy's throat, continuing in a low voice, "I should... listen to you..."
Chu Yiran bit his tongue sharply, the sharp pain momentarily clearing his muddled consciousness. He didn't even turn around, but squeezed out two words through gritted teeth, filled with anger at Chu Yiran's disappointment, yet also with a complex and indescribable emotion: "Idiot!"
Su Jing seemed to chuckle lightly, but the laughter was quickly replaced by a cough. He suddenly exerted his strength, deflecting a cold arrow that came from the side for Chu Yiran. His tone suddenly became urgent and resolute: "In a moment... I'll lead my personal guards to charge to the left flank and tear open an opening... You see the opportunity, leave immediately! Don't look back!"
These words were like a sharp knife, instantly piercing through all of Chu Yiran's exhaustion and numbness. He almost roared it out, his voice hoarse from exhaustion, yet carrying an undeniable resolve: "No!"
He leaned back abruptly, using his last bit of strength to slam his head against Su Jing's back: "If we're going to die, let's die together!"
Su Jing's body stiffened, and he chuckled in a hoarse voice, "You're an idiot too..."
The encirclement by the Northern Qi was getting tighter and tighter, and the wind whipped up sand that lashed against their blood-stained armor with a dull thud.
Just then, a cunning arrow, like a venomous snake, shot out from the sand curtain and pierced Chu Yiran's abdomen with a "thud." The immense impact caused him to stagger, and excruciating pain instantly overwhelmed his already exhausted nerves.
"Ah Ran—!" Su Jing's cry of alarm was shrill and distorted. Just as he was about to rush over, he was tightly entangled by two Northern Qi soldiers who suddenly surged forward.
Chu Yiran's vision blurred, and warm blood quickly soaked through his clothes, flowing down his armor. He knelt on one knee, barely supporting himself with the longsword in his left hand. His vision began to blur, and the shouts of battle around him seemed to fade into the distance.
Immediately afterwards, a Northern Qi soldier raised his curved sword high, stepped forward, and the blade whistled as it slashed fiercely towards his neck—
The next second, a deafening clang rang out, and a heavy broadsword, as solid as a mountain, blocked the fatal blow.
Chu Yiran struggled to lift his head. Through the blurry sand and dust, he saw a tall figure blocking his way. The man's armor was stained with blood, his temples were gray, and his profile was as hard as iron, yet it carried the reassuring features that Chu Yiran had seen countless times since childhood.
The man used his sword to force the enemy back with one hand, and with the other hand he quickly reached back and steadily supported Chu Yiran's body, which was about to collapse. Just like when he was a child and fell due to exhaustion from practicing martial arts, his father would always reach out in time to support him firmly.
Chu Yiran coughed up a mouthful of blood, his consciousness already somewhat blurred. He almost thought he was hallucinating due to his severe injuries: "...Father?...Why are you here?"
“As children grow up, their temperaments tend to become more skewed… but…” He patted Chu Yiran’s uninjured left shoulder, his movements as steady and powerful as he remembered. His voice was hoarse from years of battle, yet it carried a strange warmth that could soothe all unease. “Do you really think your father would just watch you die here?”
"Hold on, Daddy will lead you out of here—"
"When you were little, you were naughty and hid in the armory to fall asleep. When your father found you, he carried you home in this same way..."
...
Chu Zhongling's words were intermittent, mixed with the sounds of parrying and fighting, yet they reached Chu Yiran's ears with exceptional clarity. Those simple, even somewhat clumsy words, each syllable seemed to carry a heavy weight, striking Chu Yiran's fading consciousness.
Chu Yiran wanted to say something, but the heavy darkness surged in like a tide, eventually drowning out all his senses. He completely lost consciousness and his body slumped against his father's shoulder.
Enveloped in endless darkness, he seemed to have returned to his childhood days in the Marquis's mansion—
Under the bright sunshine and amidst the chirping of cicadas, a tall man, holding a wooden sword, patiently corrected the child's clumsy movements, demonstrating each move step by step.
"Keep your wrist steady and your lower body grounded! Yes, that's it!"
...
Then, the scene shifts, and the father carries him on his shoulders, through a bustling market, to a dessert shop to buy freshly baked sweets.
There was no bloodshed on the battlefield, no scheming and plotting in my dream, only my father's broad back and hearty laughter, a sense of security that brought tears to my eyes.
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