Northwest of Yingzhou, a barren land.
This place was known as Tongliao in later generations. There was no name for it, and no one had settled down there. But now, there were, and that was the tens of thousands of women and children under Li Jinzhong and Sun Wanrong.
This place was relatively high in the north and south, and low in the middle, shaped like a saddle. To the north were the rocky mountains and hills of the southern foothills of the Greater Khinganling Mountains. To the south were the shallow mountains and loess hills at the edge of the Liaoxi Mountains. The middle was the sandy alluvial plains of the Liao River Basin.
The place that Li Jinzhong had chosen was quite good. It could be defended by the mountains, and they could plant and graze in front of the mountains. They could also hunt in the mountains. And if something happened, they could retreat in any direction. It was a good buffer zone.
Their city was built in the most dangerous place in the rocky mountains in the north: Eagle's Mouth.
There were only a few trees on this mountain, and most of the places were bare rocky mountains. Behind them was a continuous mountain range, and in front of them was a towering mountain peak. There was only one dangerous path that led up the mountain. It was indeed like the sharp beak of an eagle, easy to defend and hard to attack.
The chief commander stationed here was Sun Wanrong's brother-in-law, Yi Yuanyu, and the deputy commander was Fei Mo. Because they had no experience in building a city, and it was inconvenient to build in the winter, and because there were only injured soldiers and the elderly and young in the tribe, the construction progress of the new city was very slow, even though they had captured some people to work as laborers.
The new city on Eagle's Mouth had not yet taken shape. The entire tribe still lived at the foot of the mountain, but most of the property and food they had captured were stored on the mountain.
Early in the morning, the half-grown children in the tribe began to herd the few sheep on the dry grassy slope facing the sun, while the women carried rattan baskets on their backs and went into the forest to pick pine nuts and other fruits. The elderly were also busy in the tribe, sewing leather clothes, raising livestock, or doing other kinds of work. Some of the able-bodied men and the captured laborers went up the mountain to continue building their City of Hope.
On the slope facing the sun, there were blue skies, white clouds, white snow, withered grass, a herd of goats, and a group of children herding goats.
The one walking in front was a boy with his hands in his sleeves and a whip under his ribs. He was about eight or nine years old, his hair was messy like a bird's nest, and his sleeves were shiny like ice. There were four or five children following behind him, both boys and girls, and they were all younger than him.
The boy proudly pointed at a female sheep with a big belly and said, "Lan Lan, come here. Look, that sheep is about to give birth. All the sheep I raise are fat, and in the tribe, my sheep love to give birth the most."
The group of little kids couldn't help but exclaim in admiration. The little girl named Lanlan said in admiration, "Big Brother Zhizhan is so awesome. What are you going to do when you grow up?"
Zhi Zhan raised his sleeves and slid the shiny sleeves under his nose, leaving a wet mark on his lips. "You're still herding sheep when you've grown up!"
"Herding sheep? Herding sheep for what?"
"To earn money to marry a wife!"
"Why would he marry a wife?"
"Let's have babies!"
"What's the point of having a baby?"
Zhi Zhan grew impatient. He glared at her and said, "What else can I do? Herding sheep!"
Lanlan mumbled, "What's the point of herding sheep? I don't like herding sheep."
Just as Zhi Zhan was about to speak, he suddenly tilted his head and paused. He listened intently for a moment before asking, "Lanlan, what sound do you hear?"
Lanlan was confused. "What sound?"
As soon as these words were spoken, the faint rumbling became clearer, and the two children looked down the hill at the snowy plain. They saw thousands upon thousands of men and horses, stretching as far as the eye could see, like a tide of grey ants, rapidly advancing, covering everything in sight.
The 'tide of ants' swept across the plains in front of them like a gust of wind, not stopping for even a moment for them.
Zhi Zhan's mouth was agape, and the whip under his ribs fell to the ground.
…
Drums and horns sounded, and the army was like a tide.
The Khitan warriors who had hurriedly organized to protect their tribesmen tried their best to fend off the attacks from the Turks, but the Turks outnumbered them ten to one. No matter how hard they tried, the waves of Turk cavalry closing in on them from all directions continued to press down on them, causing their defensive circle to shrink.
The enemy had come too suddenly. The mountain city had not been built yet, so it was not enough to fend off the enemy. The entire tribe was camped at the foot of the hill, unable to escape in time. With nowhere to retreat, they could only fight.
The entire mountain was filled with clashing cavalry, and the valley was filled with deafening battle cries. The plains were covered in corpses and blood. The Khitan, who were at a severe disadvantage in numbers, had their formation disrupted by the Turks. They were cut up and beaten up, and some had already abandoned their weapons and surrendered. If they did not surrender now, only death awaited them. It was impossible to change the situation.
Yi Yuanyu and Fei Mo had also been separated in the chaos. He could only lead his tribesmen to break out of the encirclement. The spear in Fei Mo's hand was already broken, and the saber he had pulled out was already bent. His back was drenched in sweat and he was panting for breath, but no matter which direction he charged in, there was only wave after wave of enemy cavalry that seemed endless.
Yang Fan and Gu Zhuting stood on a high slope, looking down at the chaotic slaughter before them.
The sky was like a dome, pure and blue, like a piece of translucent blue crystal.
The only white cloud in the sky was suspended alone, looking around at the vast expanse of land, silent and desolate.
And beneath this eternal tranquility was a battle scene of all colors, people shouting, horses neighing, blood flying.
On the slope, one could clearly see the Khitan cavalry who had been cut apart. They were like a school of startled fish, swimming around in panic and dodging. But the Turks were like water, embracing them no matter where they fled.
Those who killed and those who were killed were all foreigners, but as he stood on the slope and sorrowfully looked at all this, Yang Fan felt a kind of sorrow.
He was not an emperor, so he had never had the lofty resolve to sacrifice his own tribesmen for the sake of a great cause that would last for generations to come. It seemed like a good thing for the Turks to end the Khitan rebellion. But reality was not like this. His tribesmen had not died as a result.
The Khitans had rebelled against Zhou, but the ones besieging them were the Turks. Was the Imperial Court really that weak? Definitely not. The Imperial Court had stationed troops in the Western Regions, using the strength of a single country to resist the two powerful militaries of Tibet and the Turks, but they had not gained any advantage. Although Wang Xiaojie had seized the Four Garrisons of Anxi partly because of the internal strife in Tibet, it was enough to prove the strength of the Zhou army.
But in these battles, the Imperial Court had used veteran generals who had been guarding the borders for many years and had rich experience on the battlefield. In the eyes of the Khitan rebellion, perhaps the Imperial Court had thought that it would be too easy to quell. In order to seize the credit, it had sent Wu Youyi, Wu Yizong, and a few other incompetent generals who had only climbed up by clinging to the Wu Clan.
In the end, the Imperial Court had sacrificed so many soldiers, and in the end, it still had to seek help from the Turks.
Yang Fan had succeeded. He had won this war, but he was not happy, not happy at all.
As a soldier, he felt humiliated, but he also felt helpless.
The commanders of the armies in the north and south were both members of the Wu Clan, and the Empress had refused to relinquish power. If she had not used such drastic measures and allowed those two to blindly command, who knew how long the chaos in Hebei would have lasted. Under the constant destruction of the Khitans, the people of the north, who were already poorer than the people of the south, would have no way of surviving. The Imperial Court would have to sacrifice many young men to offset the foolishness of those two commanders and obtain victory in this war.
…
Fei Mo had gone berserk. The saber in his hand transformed into arcs of cold light. He spurred on his steed and led dozens of warriors across the plains like a gust of wind, desperately trying to break out of the encirclement. The whistling of the saber brought with it endless slaughter and death.
There were dozens of warriors following behind him. In addition to those who had been with him at the beginning, there were also some knights who were fighting for their own cause. Along the way, people kept falling off their horses, and people kept coming in to replace them. In the end, they forcefully opened up a path of blood, and just happened to rush towards the place where Yang Fan was standing.
At the bottom of the slope, there was a group of Turkic knights. In the middle of them was an old general with a long beard. He was the Arrowhead, Su Mumu. Seeing that the group of fish that had escaped the net were charging at him, Su Mumu waved his hand, and the knights behind him immediately sent out a group of men to form a triangular formation and charge at Fei Mo.
"Wuuu ~"
A long saber, wrapped in a chilling sound, slashed towards Fei Mo in the air.
Fei Mo was alarmed. He hurriedly urged his steed to take two steps to the side, avoiding the edge of the other party's attack. He then raised his curled saber, because the other party's second saber was already following him like a shadow, slashing at his head.
After a hundred battles, Fei Mo's strength was already exhausted, and this strike was hastily blocked. As the two blades collided, a "Keng" sound rang out. Fei Mo couldn't withstand it, and the blade in his hand was sent flying. His opponent flipped his wrist, and the third blade swept towards his neck like a waterfall.
Fei Mo had no time to dodge. He closed his eyes and muttered, "It's over!"
With a clang, his fatal strike was blocked. The Turkic knight didn't have the time to look carefully. When he saw that someone had raised a saber to block his attack, he thought that it was an enemy. Without even looking, he swung his saber back at the rider.
The rider seemed to be one with his horse, his horsemanship adept and his saber refined. The saber in his hand flashed back and forth, its ferocity infused with ingenious transformations. Dang dang dang! After several slashes, the Turkic rider felt his wrist jolt as the face of the saber struck him. His arm instantly went numb as if he had been electrocuted, and his saber flew out of his hand.
"Stop!"
By this time, Fei Mo's subordinates had also been killed or captured by the fresh Turkic army, leaving less than four people to put up a stubborn resistance. With Xiao Mumu's order, the Turks immediately retreated, allowing the four of them to retreat to Fei Mo's side with lingering fear.
"I said that if there's a chance, I'll let you go!" As Yang Fan spoke, he glanced at Xiao Mumu. Xiao Mumu immediately waved his hand, and the saber-wielding guards retreated a few more steps.
Fei Mo's body trembled. At this moment, only the outline of Yang Fan's face remained, so he shouldn't have been able to recognize him. But when he heard those words, he immediately knew who it was. He recognized Yang Fan's voice, and he was even more familiar with this promise.
Fei Mo asked in shock, "It's you? Why are you here? How did you … "
Fei Mo stood there in a daze. He couldn't understand why Yang Fan would appear here.
Yang Fan cut him off. "Do you think that this is a place to chat? You can leave now! "
The fighting on the plains was still ongoing. Fei Mo turned his head and glanced at his tribesmen who were still struggling for their lives.
Yang Fan said, "I can only let you go this time. If you want to kill your way back, you'll only be bringing your brothers to their deaths, and that won't help. If you're willing to leave, I can make the decision to let these people go! "
After a moment of hesitation, Fei Mo reluctantly nodded his head. With a fierce whistle, he urged his horse to gallop south. The four horsemen immediately followed, and the prisoners were also released. They mounted their horses and followed Fei Mo. Their long years of living in a difficult environment had taught them to make choices.
Xiao Mumu kicked his stirrups and slowly strolled to Yang Fan's side. With a faint smile, he said, "Releasing one person and throwing the entire army into chaos. Esteemed Envoy truly has good methods!"
Yang Fan faintly smiled. He first silently observed the chaotic battlefield, then turned his gaze to the motionless white cloud in the sky, thinking to himself, It's time for the heavens to change!
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