Chapter 71

The Left General, due to his reckless arrogance, had led two thousand cavalry to near annihilation. He himself was struck in the chest by an arrow but, fortunately, it missed his heart and lungs, allowing him to survive.
However, after this incident, he was no different from a dead man.
The entire army was somewhat panicked. Yan Yiming did her best to stabilize morale while discussing strategies to defeat the enemy with the Right General.
The Right General strongly agreed with Yan Yiming’s earlier proposal to cut off the Mongol reinforcements and attack from the rear. Engaging the Mongol army head-on was the most foolish choice. It was wiser to avoid their main force, temporarily reduce their momentum, and find a weak point to exploit.
The two reached a consensus, with the only difference being their predictions regarding the route the Mongol reinforcements would take.
Or rather, their predictions differed from the correct route Little A had revealed.
Yan Yiming had initially agreed with the Right General. The route they had identified was the shortest between the two locations. On the battlefield, every second counted, so logically, this route seemed the most likely.
However, Little A had pointed to another, more winding path. Yan Yiming had considered this possibility before, which was why she had hesitated and ultimately asked Little A for the precise answer.
Now, she was immensely grateful, as both she and the Right General had initially leaned toward the first route.
Yan Yiming insisted on choosing the latter route. The Right General was deeply puzzled as to why Yan Yiming had changed her mind overnight and was so resolute about it. Yan Yiming traced her finger along the path on the map and explained, “The Mongol forces have only exchanged their cavalry units, and the cavalry has outpaced the follow-up troops. If we can cut off their reinforcements, we can seize the initiative. The Khan would not overlook this potential risk. Although this route is the shortest, it is easily anticipated and surrounded by vast grasslands. If ambushed, the consequences would be disastrous. Currently, the Mongol army is not in urgent need of supplies, so they can afford to slow down and choose a safer route to ensure absolute security.”
The Right General was swayed by Yan Yiming's reasoning.
It made sense, or rather, it made a great deal of sense.
But what if the Mongol forces were simple-minded and hadn't considered all that? Or what if they outsmarted themselves?
Two paths represented a gamble, and for a moment, the Right General was uncertain which to choose.
Yan Yiming observed the general's hesitation and said plainly, “General Chen, rest assured. If my choice proves wrong and the Emperor blames us, I will not involve you in the consequences.”
Yan Yiming's straightforwardness made the Right General somewhat embarrassed. The battle was fought by both of them, how could one person bear the blame if things went awry? Especially since Yan Yiming was still a young man.
Enough of that. The Right General slammed the table and declared, “Old Chen has lived for decades, how could I let a youngster take responsibility for me? Right or wrong, today I'll follow your lead!”
Yan Yiming was slightly surprised, not expecting the Right General to show such courage. A faint smile appeared on her usually expressionless face as he said, “Then let us hope for success. If General Chen trusts me, please entrust this ambush to me.”
“Of course, I trust you,” General Chen laughed heartily. “I have faith in General Shao's judgment. Then Old Chen will guard the camp and await Commandant Yan's triumphant return.”
The standoff between the two armies was extremely tense, but Yan Yiming felt unusually relaxed at that moment. After further discussions with General Chen, she carefully calculated the estimated arrival time of the Mongol reinforcements.
Another day passed with no movement from either side. That night, ten thousand elite soldiers followed Yan Yiming on a forced march of over a hundred li, arriving at the Mongols' essential route by dawn and setting up an ambush.
Infantry was not as fierce as cavalry, especially infantry tasked with transporting supplies.
At dawn, the sky was dim and unclear. That day, it seemed as if heaven was aiding Yan Yiming, a thick, gray fog enveloped the grassland, making everything appear hazy and surreal. Everyone held their breath in anticipation, and even the horses remained silent.
The soldiers beside Yan Yiming were worried: what if the Mongol forces did not come this way? Yet, within half an hour, the sound of hooves and wheels gradually reached their ears. Faint torches flickered in the distant fog, illuminating the still-dark dawn.
Everyone suddenly became alert. Yan Yiming tightened her grip on his long blade as the sounds of carts and horses drew nearer.
Abruptly, a sharp whistle pierced the morning tranquility. The Mongol warhorses neighed in panic as if startled, and the Mongol troops, caught off guard, frantically scanned their surroundings.
In an instant, the Xia army, which should not have been there, attacked from all directions. The most elite and valiant cavalry immediately scattered the disoriented Mongol troops. The sound of blades slicing through flesh, mixed with agonizing screams, echoed across the grassland.
The goal of this battle was to cut off the Mongol army’s main supply line rather than to kill. Flames engulfed the heavily laden supply carts, and the panicked horses, now on fire, ran amok, further breaking the Mongol ranks.
This was the most one-sided battle in Yan Yiming’s memory. The Mongol army showed no intention of fighting back; tens of thousands of infantrymen either fled or surrendered within moments. Their once-proud battle flags lay trampled on the grassland.
They had chosen the safest route, yet they never expected the Xia army to anticipate their movements and lie in wait.
From the very beginning, the Mongol army was utterly defeated.
With fewer than a thousand casualties on their side, the Xia army had killed thousands of the enemy. Tens of thousands fled, while over twenty thousand surrendered. The soldiers around Yan Yiming were now filled with admiration and excitement, eager to return to camp and secure another brilliant victory.
Yan Yiming felt the same way.
Even before the real battle had begun, they had crippled the Mongol army’s rear support, dealing a heavy blow to their morale. Now was the perfect time to launch a fierce assault.
The entire army sped back to camp, faster and more urgently than when they had set out.
General Chen was pacing anxiously in the camp. When a soldier rushed in, breathless, to report Yan Yiming’s triumphant return, he roared with approval and dashed out to greet them personally.
For the first time after a battle, Yan Yiming appeared completely clean, as if she had not fought at all. But when General Chen saw the young commandant escorting the captured Mongol supplies, he understood, it was not that there had been no battle, but that the victory had been too easily won.
General Chen was convinced. He was grateful he had listened to Yan Yiming’s advice; otherwise, they would not have achieved such an effortless first victory.
Now that Yan Yiming had returned to camp, the Mongol Khan must have already received the news of his rear army’s annihilation. It was time for them to launch their full-scale assault!
This initial victory ignited the soldiers’ fighting spirit, sweeping away their previous anxiety and uncertainty. A war they had once believed the Mongols would dominate was now being led by the Xia army’s rising momentum.
On the Mongol side, the Khan was furious upon hearing the devastating news. But before he could reorganize his forces, the Xia army had already launched their attack.
What was meant to be an offensive had turned into a hasty defense. Despite their overwhelming numerical advantage, the Mongols had lost their initial ferocity.
This was the first time Yan Yiming had faced the Mongol army head-on. With forty thousand cavalry against hundreds of thousands of Mongol soldiers, she fought his way through a river of blood.
Although the Mongol Khan had lost the initiative at the outset, he soon realized that the Xia army’s actual strength was only forty to fifty thousand troops.
This realization only fueled his rage. Had he known the Xia army was so outnumbered, he would not have delayed, giving them the chance to strike first and inflict such losses before the real battle had even begun.
Since the backup was cut off, they had to end this quickly. The Mongol army had no intention of engaging Yan Yiming in a protracted war of attrition. To annihilate the Xia forces in one fell swoop, they resorted to overwhelming numbers and targeted aggression.
Watching the Mongol soldiers fall one by one, Yan Yiming knew their casualties in this battle must be devastating, but the losses on the Xia side were equally unbearable to witness.
After a night of relentless travel and nearly twenty hours without sleep, Yan Yiming's energy was fading fast. Her warhorse was struck by a spear, let out a mournful cry, and threw her hard to the ground before galloping away. Gritting her teeth against the pain from the fall, Yan Yiming dodged another thrusting spear but was still wounded in the abdomen. The searing pain nearly brought tears to her eyes.
In that critical moment, a young officer she usually got along with saved her. But in the blink of an eye, the Mongol army closed in again, and the officer could no longer protect Yan Yiming, forced to fight for his life.
Yan Yiming clenched her jaw, her waist wound sending tremors of pain through her body. Little A, panicking, quickly shut off her pain receptors, allowing Yan Yiming a moment of clarity. She rolled aside to evade another Mongol soldier, then gritted her teeth, grabbed a horse, and swung herself back into the saddle.
Little A probably wouldn't let her die so easily, and now that she couldn't feel the pain, a cold glint flashed in Yan Yiming's eyes. To the astonishment of the approaching Mongol soldiers, she raised her long blade once more.
Perhaps it was her terrifying aura of bloodlust, or perhaps it was her fierce determination despite her injuries, but a few soldiers felt a surge of fear. In their carelessness, her blade pierced one man's chest, then twisted, churning up a gruesome spray of blood and foam. The others shuddered at the sight of the gaping, ghastly wound in his chest, and none dared approach the slender young warrior again.
Injured yet more intimidating than before, Yan Yiming swung her blade, claiming several more lives. Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, she resembled a god of slaughter. But then an arrow whistled through the air, halting her movement. Sensing an attack from behind, she turned in desperation, but it was too late.
A blade sliced through her armor, carving a horrifying gash from her shoulder down to her waist. Little A screamed, struggling to maintain Yan Yiming's last shred of consciousness. To the horror of all onlookers, Yan Yiming did not fall. Instead, she killed her assailant and spurred her horse, breaking free from the encircling soldiers.
Perhaps moved by her sheer ferocity, even the enemy allowed her to escape.
Though she felt no pain, her injuries were severe, and she had lost too much blood. Yan Yiming tumbled heavily from her horse. The last thing she heard was Little A's frantic, repeated cries before everything went silent.