Chapter Twenty-Three: A Great Victory Over the Wuwan

Huang Zhong let out a cold snort and pronounced each word deliberately, “By order of the lord: whosoever offends the Great Han, no matter how distant, shall be punished. Kill them all.”

At his command, the soldiers, heedless of the pleas for mercy from the Wuhuan men, struck without hesitation. With one swing of their blades, all those kneeling were sent to meet their fate.

“Everyone, clear the battlefield,” Huang Zhong ordered, seeing that nearly all the Wuhuan had been slain, save for two commanders and a handful of cavalry who managed to escape.

This time, since the Wuhuan had not utilized their horses in battle, almost every mount remained unscathed—a total of twenty-five thousand horses, an extraordinary haul.

Meanwhile, Subul and Wudan fled on horseback, galloping for twenty li before stopping, relieved to find no pursuers behind them.

Subul surveyed his remaining followers—not even three hundred, most of whom had been on guard duty and thus avoided the poisoned provisions. Yet even they were in poor shape: broken legs, shattered arms, and fewer than a hundred were whole.

Subul thought back to the pride with which he had led thirty thousand cavalry to raid Youzhou, then looked at the devastation before him. Tears streamed down his face. “King Qiulijü, I have failed you. I have failed the thirty thousand brothers who trusted me.”

“Brother Subul, what do we do now?” Wudan, who never had much resolve to begin with, was utterly lost and relied entirely on Subul’s guidance.

“We should head for Yuyang, to Qiulitü’s camp. At least there we might find shelter,” Subul decided. Qiulitü was the nephew of King Qiulijü and the main commander of the assault on Yuyang.

“Alright, Brother Subul, let’s hurry,” Wudan urged.

“Yes, let’s go.” And with that, they prepared to ride out.

Suddenly, a thunderous voice erupted, “Hahaha, you won’t have any chance to return!”

Startled, Subul and his men looked toward the sound and saw a burly warrior, tiger-headed and with whiskered cheeks, charging ahead of a thousand cavalry. “My fate is sealed,” Subul thought in despair. With barely three hundred wounded men on his side, and the enemy not only outnumbering them but fresh and well-rested, resistance seemed futile.

Still, Subul summoned his strength and shouted, “Who are you?”

“I am Zhang Fei, styled Yide, a native of Yan, and a captain under Liu Yao, the Governor of Youzhou!” Zhang Fei declared, then thrust his spear at Subul.

Subul refused to surrender and raised his mace to parry, but the next moment, Zhang Fei’s force sent the weapon flying aside. “What power! How can the Han army produce such a warrior?” Subul wondered in shock.

Zhang Fei pressed his advantage, using his spear to drive the mace aside and then swung down at Subul’s head. Subul tried to block, but with no strength left, his weapon was knocked away. Zhang Fei spun his spear and swept Subul from his horse. Blood spurted from Subul’s mouth, and he lay powerless.

“Bind him!” Zhang Fei shouted to his men. Two foot soldiers quickly produced a long hemp rope from nowhere and expertly tied Subul. Their practiced hands made it clear they were well-used to such tasks.

“So weak, brought down in two blows—how dull,” Zhang Fei grumbled in disappointment.

Wudan, though strong, was in no shape to resist, and was soon bound by several soldiers.

“Sir, what about these dozens of prisoners?” a cavalry captain asked.

“The lord’s command: leave none alive,” Zhang Fei replied, his voice brimming with murderous intent.

“Yes, sir.” The soldiers drew their blades, ending the lives of the remaining Wuhuan captives.

“You Han people, all you know are tricks and schemes! If you have the guts, fight our Wuhuan warriors one-on-one!” Wudan, bound tightly, cursed furiously.

Zhang Fei was not a man of patience. He strode over and slapped Wudan hard across the face. Zhang Fei’s strength was terrifying; Wudan’s mouth swelled like a pig’s head. “If not for the lord’s order to spare you two, old Zhang would have poked a dozen holes through you already!” Zhang Fei cursed. “Someone, gag them both!”

Two soldiers stuffed scraps of cloth into Subul and Wudan’s mouths.

Zhang Fei watched their muffled attempts to speak, nodded in satisfaction, and laughed heartily. “Take them both, we’re heading back!”

When Zhang Fei and Huang Zhong regrouped and returned to Ji County, they found Liu Yao and Tian Feng already waiting at the city gate.

“Lord, Zhang Fei has returned.” “Lord, how can we trouble you to wait here?” The contrasting greetings made it clear who was Zhang Fei and who was Huang Zhong.

“Haha, why not? You two are the heroes of this battle. It’s only right I welcome you,” Liu Yao replied with a broad smile.

“Thank you, lord,” Zhang Fei and Huang Zhong both said, moved.

“Come, let’s head into the city,” Liu Yao said, taking them by the arm.

“Yes, sir.”

In the council chamber of the Governor’s mansion, Liu Yao sat in the chief seat, with Ju Shou, Tian Feng, Zhang Fei, Huang Zhong, and Shi Ah standing below.

“Alright, let’s each report our situation. Hansheng, you go first,” Liu Yao said casually.

“Reporting, lord: This time, I slew more than twenty-eight thousand enemies. Most of the rest escaped. Our own forces suffered 1,235 lightly wounded, 20 seriously wounded who will never return to battle, and 58 fallen soldiers,” Huang Zhong reported.

“Oh, this is a resounding victory!” Liu Yao exclaimed, his face alight with excitement. Then, recalling the fallen, he sighed, “Double the pensions for those seriously wounded and killed.”

“Thank you, lord,” Huang Zhong said, deeply moved. As a commoner himself, he cared most for the rank-and-file soldiers.

“And what about the spoils?”

“Lord, thanks to your strategy, the Wuhuan never mounted their horses. Aside from those wounded by stray arrows or frightened off, we recovered twenty-five thousand mounts. As for other weapons and equipment, they’re hardly worth mentioning.”

“So many? That will be more than enough for expanding our cavalry,” Liu Yao said, thrilled. It was far more than he had expected.

“Yide, how about your side? You look eager to speak,” Liu Yao teased, seeing Zhang Fei fidget impatiently.

“Reporting, lord, it was really dull. Only about three hundred Wuhuan made it to my side, and Hansheng had already killed them all,” Zhang Fei said, his face full of envy. Then, excited, he continued, “But I did capture their two leaders!”

“Haha, don’t worry, your merit won’t be forgotten,” Liu Yao laughed. “Bring the two leaders up.”

Soon, Liu Yao’s guards brought up Subul and Wudan, still tightly bound, and removed the cloths from their mouths.

“What are your names?” Liu Yao asked, towering above them.

“Hmph, Wuhuan warriors never yield. Don’t expect to get anything from us,” Wudan replied disdainfully.

“No matter. I never expected to get information from you,” Liu Yao said coolly. “Guards, lock them up in the dungeon. Make sure they’re fed—don’t let them starve. They still have their uses.”

“Yes, sir.” The guards gagged them once again and dragged them away.

“Alright, Yide, Hansheng, your merits are noted. Go rest, and after a day’s recovery, accompany me to Yuyang. Yuanhao, you come too to help strategize.”

“Yes, lord.”

“Thank you, lord,” the two replied, full of excitement—for joining the army, after all, meant aspiring to titles and rank.