"My heart beats fast for you. To gallop with you across the vast grasslands, your majestic presence captivates me. I'd give up everything for you, without regret. On the grasslands lie my beloved brother, on the grasslands lies my beloved pasture. If you love your sister, then spur your horse on!"
As dawn broke, crimson clouds gathered on the horizon. Streaks of morning light pierced through, painting the vast land in a golden hue.
Beneath the golden dawn, a beautiful maiden with long braids sang a grassland love song, a blood-stained crescent moon saber resting by her side.
Her melodious song seemed to pause the ongoing battle, its beauty momentarily drowning out the sounds of desperate combat. Time itself appeared to stand still.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
"Capture the chieftain alive! Capture the chieftain alive!"
The stillness lasted only an instant. Soon, the shouts of the Xia army echoed once more before Wuming Valley, their cries chilling the heart.
The song abruptly ceased.
Murong Huiying, kneeling on the ground, slowly picked up the blood-stained crescent moon saber.
"Eldest Aunt!"
Su Heba, the banner bearer of the Huolie Camp, along with the remaining seven or eight warriors of the Huolie Camp, knelt on one knee around Murong Huiying, their swords plunged into the earth to support their wounded bodies.
Su Heba and the other seven or eight Huolie Camp warriors were prepared to die for their lord.
"Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!"
Just then, as Murong Huiying prepared to take her own life, and as Su Heba and the others braced for their final moments, the sound of thunder suddenly boomed from the distance. The thunderous roar shook the heavens, accompanied by the sight of rolling dust clouds on the horizon, a truly fierce and awe-inspiring spectacle.
The attacking Xia army halted in their tracks in astonishment. Murong Huiying and her companions turned their bewildered gazes towards the valley entrance.
"Hu Cavalry!" someone in the Xia army shouted, striking terror into the hearts of the soldiers, their faces draining of color and their bodies trembling.
The colossal sound, seemingly originating from the horizon, was not thunder, but the thunderous pounding of hooves as cavalry charged across the land.
The approaching Yan cavalry numbered over a thousand, while the Xia army besieging Wuming Valley had only a little over five hundred men remaining. Against cavalry on open ground, infantry needed at least a tenfold advantage to stand a chance.
"White Tiger Battalion, charge! Kill!"
A tall, imposing young Yan general, clad in a black cape and mounted on a strong steed, led the charge, brandishing his saber and roaring at the top of his lungs.
The young Yan general galloped forward, the wind whipping his black cape almost straight behind him, his black armor gleaming in the morning light.
In the dawn's embrace, a formidable warrior, a powerful warhorse, and a galloping charge; his valiant and agile posture, all these elements combined to make the Yan general appear like a divine being.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
"Victory! Victory! Victory!"
Over a thousand fierce cavalry, following their commander, surged forward like a storm, closing in on the bewildered Xia army.
"Eldest Aunt, ha ha, ha ha! It's our Great Yan cavalry! Our Great Yan cavalry! We are saved! Eldest Aunt is saved! I wonder which unit it is?" Su Heba cried with joy, kneeling before Murong Huiying and shouting excitedly.
The remaining warriors of the Huolie Camp were also moved to tears of relief. Some, their strength failing, fainted.
Murong Huiying shot Su Heba and the others a glance, then smiled wordlessly.
A white tiger banner stood tall in the morning light. Did they not know which unit it was? It was Zhou Fugui and his White Tiger Battalion, arriving in the nick of time to save Murong Huiying and her companions.
Murong Huiying seemed to already see the Yan general leading the charge, envisioning Zhou Fugui's heroic and stern face.
"My Tan Shihuai Khan," Murong Huiying thought with joy in her heart, tears welling in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on Zhou Fugui.
A hero emerges at a critical moment, only then can they be called a hero. Heroes always have to turn the tide of events, otherwise, they cannot be called heroes.
Zhou Fugui was a hero. At least, in Murong Huiying's heart at this very moment, he was a colossal hero, comparable to the great Xianbei hero, Tan Shihuai.
At this moment, Murong Huiying was filled with nothing but joy. Joy that they had escaped certain death, joy that Zhou Fugui was alive, joy that Zhou Fugui and his White Tiger Battalion had not surrendered but were still fighting valiantly against the enemy.
And Zhou Fugui's appearance was so dramatic... a hero saving a beauty, naturally, the beauty would admire, even fall in love with the hero.
"Splash!"
Zhou Fugui, the commander of the White Tiger Battalion, rode his horse through a shallow pond between the two armies, sending water splashing all over him. Without wiping it off, he drew his modified Moon-Chasing Bow and fired three arrows in quick succession, like lightning bolts, felling three Xia soldiers.
The Xia army panicked, their formation falling into disarray.
"Kill!"
Zhou Fugui led over a thousand White Tiger Battalion cavalry, sweeping towards the Xia army like a gust of wind. Zhou Fugui was the first to charge into the enemy ranks, his saber cleaving down two Xia soldiers, blood and gore spraying everywhere.
Zhou Fugui showed no mercy, hacking at the Xia soldiers with the ferocity of a beast. His subordinate officers and men of the White Tiger Battalion, like Zhou Fugui, charged into the Xia ranks, galloping and slashing, ruthlessly harvesting the lives of the Xia soldiers.
The outcome was inevitable when over five hundred lightly defended Xia soldiers faced the charge of over a thousand iron cavalry. The Xia army crumbled instantly, the soldiers fleeing in terror and shouting wildly.
But how could human legs outrun horse hooves? The Xia soldiers were shot down or cut to pieces. The White Tiger Battalion cavalry pursued them like hunters. The Xia army collapsed, losing all ability to resist, and the area around Wuming Valley became the White Tiger Battalion's hunting ground.
What Murong Huiying found most strange was that Zhou Fugui, who had always been benevolent, seemed to have transformed into someone else. He issued no orders for surrender, only commanding the White Tiger Battalion to pursue and kill the Xia army, allowing no one to escape, and no one to live. Thus, the Xia soldiers who knelt to surrender were still slaughtered by the White Tiger Battalion.
...
"Brother Fugui, Brother Fugui, stop... stop... killing..." All over five hundred Xia soldiers were annihilated, all dying before Wuming Valley. Yet Zhou Fugui, as if driven mad, continued to hack at a already slain Xia general with his saber. Xu Mancang then exchanged a look with Dian Meng, and the two mighty warriors grabbed Zhou Fugui, restraining him.
"Let go of me!" Zhou Fugui, his eyes bloodshot, struggled with all his might.
"Brother Fugui, the man is already dead. Stop killing." Xu Mancang and Dian Meng were strong, but Zhou Fugui's strength was not insignificant. Under his desperate struggle, they could barely hold him. Xu Mancang, holding Zhou Fugui tightly, said, "The princess is still over there."
Hearing the word "princess," Zhou Fugui seemed to regain some clarity. He grunted, dropped his saber, and stopped struggling.
Seeing that Zhou Fugui had stopped struggling, Xu Mancang and Dian Meng released him.
Zhou Fugui mounted his horse and rode to Murong Huiying's side, looking at her coldly without a word.
Murong Huiying found this strange and remained silent, looking up at Zhou Fugui. Su Heba and the other Huolie Camp members, witnessing Zhou Fugui's rudeness, had wanted to scold him. But seeing him covered in blood and with a stern expression, they swallowed their words.
The Zhou Fugui after the fierce battle was indeed like a different person, emanating a chilling killing aura that made one's blood run cold.
Zhou Fugui stared at Murong Huiying for a long time, still without speaking, but he extended a hand.
Murong Huiying's warhorse was dead, and after fighting all night, she could no longer ride.
Murong Huiying's face lit up at the sight. With a sigh of relief, she placed her jade hand into Zhou Fugui's large one.
Zhou Fugui pulled hard, and Murong Huiying was lifted onto the saddle, sitting behind him.
"Go!"
Zhou Fugui waved his hand, giving a simple, decisive order, then spurred his horse and galloped away.
"Giddy up... giddy up... giddy up..."
The over fifteen hundred White Tiger Battalion cavalry briefly secured the battlefield and helped Su Heba and the other eight Huolie Camp members onto their horses before following Zhou Fugui's lead.
"My Tan Shihuai Khan..." Murong Huiying held Zhou Fugui's strong waist tightly, inhaling his potent masculine scent, her eyes closing slightly as she let out a contented moan.
In reality, Zhou Fugui had been campaigning for days, and his body odor was extremely strong, now mingled with blood, creating a pungent smell that was almost nauseating.
Yet, for some reason, Murong Huiying found the sweat and blood scent on Zhou Fugui incredibly refreshing, like the fragrance of blooming flowers, unlike her usual aversion to the scent of men.
"What kind of thing is Tan Shihuai Khan?" Zhou Fugui mused inwardly.
"Khan," Zhou Fugui understood the term, referring to a leader of northern nomadic tribes. But who was Tan Shihuai?
Tan Shihuai was a powerful ruler who dominated the grasslands, the son of Toulu Hou, a leader of the Xianbei tribes during the late Eastern Han Dynasty. Tan Shihuai was brave and strong, possessed great strategy, and campaigned far and wide. He established his royal court at Danhan Mountain, plundered the Eastern Han to the south, resisted the Dingling to the north, repelled the Fuyu to the east, and attacked the Wusun to the west. He completely occupied the former territory of the Xiongnu and even crossed eastward, attacking Wa (Japan), his dominion stretching over fourteen thousand li east to west and seven thousand li north to south, truly a super great kingdom.
Tan Shihuai was a heroic figure among the Xianbei, deeply revered and loved by his people.
"Why have you come to this?"
Zhou Fugui asked from his horse, his voice cold.
However, after asking for a long time, Zhou Fugui received no answer from Murong Huiying. He turned to look and saw that she had fallen asleep, clinging to him...
Zhou Fugui sighed. Without dismounting, he lifted Murong Huiying in front of him with one hand.
When asleep, it was easy to fall off a horse.
"My Tan Shihuai Khan..." Murong Huiying nestled in Zhou Fugui's arms, her eyes closed, lost in a sweet dream, still murmuring.