Three Kingdoms: I am not Liu Bian

Chapter 85: Human life is worthless? No, even less than worthless!
The north wind blew ice chips across the plain. Dong Zhuo stroked the frost on the railings of the arrow tower, and the white air exhaled from his beard instantly condensed into ice beads.

The 60,000 Yellow Turban soldiers spread across the snowy plain like an ant colony. The outlines of wooden shields and spears rose and fell under the gray sky. Zhang Bao stood behind the formation on a skinny horse, his fingers tightly gripping the reins under his iron armor.

This was the fourth consecutive day that he had stormed the camp. The corpses of those who had charged in the previous three days had been used to fill the trenches. The ground was littered with frozen blue broken limbs, which were creaking under the feet of the following Yellow Turban Army.

The bodies of several people who were lying on the snow and frozen to death were twisted and deformed by the chaotic footsteps. The broken flesh mixed with the snow mud, and the bright red blood spread in the cracks, emitting a pungent fishy smell.

"General Di Gong has issued an order! Anyone who breaks through the fence will be rewarded with three dou of millet!"

The roars of the Yellow Turban warriors pierced through the wind and snow. The sound of the Adam's apples of the front-row Yellow Turban soldiers swallowing saliva could be clearly heard. They held wooden shields on their heads, pointed their spears diagonally forward, their arms trembling slightly, and their eyes showed both desire for reward and fear of an unknown fate.

Dong Zhuo stood on the arrow tower, looking at the more than 20 crossbows being carried onto the platform. The corners of his mouth curled up, revealing his sharp white teeth, and a bloodthirsty smile appeared on his face.

This batch of crossbows were hastily made by the army. The production process was quite complicated and was only completed today.

He ordered people to cut down trees and soak them in the river for several days. They were then bent into a bow shape and dried by roasting it over fire. As for arrows, they were long spears, called "feather spears".

"put!"

Dong Zhuo roared, and twenty hastily made crossbows vibrated violently. Feather spears buzzed off the strings and shot out across the sky like thunder.

Several Yellow Turban soldiers in the front row watched a black shadow approaching rapidly. Before they could see the sharp blade of the feather spear, the Yellow Turban soldiers holding wooden shields were swept by the force of the feather spear and thrown backwards. The spear pierced four or five people in a row. The intestines hanging on the spear were still twitching, and the steaming organs slid into the snow. Blood slid down the spear, like gorgeous plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

It would have been a pleasant death if they had died from the feather spears. However, the Yellow Turban soldiers whose abdomens were pierced but who had not died had twisted bodies, faces full of fear and pain, mouths opened to let out silent screams, blood oozing from the corners of their mouths, and wailing miserably.

Such a tragic death really shocked the Yellow Turban Army, and many people stayed away from it, but Zhang Bao didn't care.

The casualties caused by a round of feather spears were less than a hundred people, and he had an army of 60,000. In his eyes, this loss was not worth mentioning at all, so he ordered the Yellow Turban strongman to come forward to supervise the battle. The Yellow Turban strongman was merciless and killed several people who stopped moving forward with his sword, and ordered the soldiers to continue moving forward.

Of course, the commander Zhang Bao and his personal guards retreated two hundred steps.

This is not because General Digong is afraid of death, but because he shoulders the great cause of the Yellow Emperor and must remain useful.

Hey, as for the so-called equality of all under heaven?

Only these bunch of people take it seriously!
"No retreat!"

The roar of the Yellow Turban warriors mixed with the friction of their leather armor. They chopped down the retreating soldiers with one sword. One soldier with half of his face cut off was still crawling, his exposed gums biting into the snow, and the blood trail he left was quickly trampled into mud by the subsequent charging footsteps.

Under the coercion of the Yellow Turban strongmen who were supervising the battle, the Yellow Turban army in the rear had to continue charging by stepping on the corpses of their companions. The crackling sound of wooden shields breaking and the muffled sound of flesh and bones being penetrated were intertwined, and the snow in front of the trench gradually turned dark red.

"Fill the ditch! Fill it quickly!"

With shouts, the crowd immediately divided into several small teams, carrying sacks filled with hay and sand and rushed towards the trench.

However, the archers behind the wooden fences and the deer barricades had already taken precautions. Arrows rained down like locusts, sacks fell to the ground one after another, and the Yellow Turban soldiers carrying them collapsed in droves. However, some were quick-witted and simply pushed their companions' bodies into the trench. The frozen bodies stuck between the wooden spikes, which proved more effective than sand.

After two hours of fighting, the Yellow Turban Army, armed with axes and hoes, finally cleared the first layer of the stakes on the fourth day and came to the first layer of wooden fence. They chopped the wooden fence, which was as thick as a bowl, with axes in their hands. Amidst the flying wood chips, a long spear suddenly pierced out from the gap in the wooden fence.

When Hua Xiong's gun tip poked out from the gap in the wooden fence, it pierced into the throat of a one-eyed man. With a slight shake of his wrist, the gun blade made a gurgling sound in the trachea, and when it was pulled back, it brought out a piece of peach-pink larynx.

"Aim carefully and stab me like I did!"

Hua Xiong spat a mouthful of blood and phlegm on the ground, but the blood was not his, but the blood that had just splashed into his mouth.

The good family boys also followed suit, and the tips of their spears pierced out from the gaps like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, stabbing the Yellow Turban Army approaching the wooden fence into blood gourds. But the most deadly thing was the humming sound of the vibrating bowstrings behind the fence.

At a distance of twenty or thirty steps or even very close, facing such a dense military formation, the crossbowmen did not even need to aim. With the bowstring fully pulled, even an ordinary nine-bucket bow could easily penetrate the armor and kill the few Yellow Turban warriors wearing leather armor, not to mention that most of the Yellow Turban soldiers were only wearing linen clothes.

Some people tried to use their companions' bodies as shields, but the defenders on the arrow tower picked up the pottery jars and poured boiling water on their heads.

The hot water produced a strange white mist in front of the wooden fence, and the exposed skin was instantly burned red. The Yellow Turban Army staggered back, covering their faces and wailing, and was shot through the back by the second wave of arrows.

In panic, some people fell into the trench and were pierced in the abdomen by wooden spikes as thick as bowls at the bottom of the trench. Looking at their intestines and internal organs hanging on the spikes, they could only wail weakly until they bled to death.

And this was only the first level of wooden fence built by Dong Zhuo!
Even ordinary garrison camps would have at least two layers of wooden fences. A camp built for defensive purposes like Dong Zhuo's had four layers, and behind each layer of wooden fences was a stake and a trench.

For four consecutive days, Zhang Bao left thousands of corpses outside Dong Zhuo's camp, but only touched the outermost fence of Dong Zhuo's camp.

At the same time, the sound of war drums was heard three miles away. It was the war drums beaten by the Yellow Turban Army stationed outside Xindu City, a warning to Zhang Bao.

"Ming Jin, withdraw your troops!"

Seeing that the offensive in front had failed and that troops from Xindu City had been sent to harass his rear army, Zhang Bao sighed, his face full of fatigue and frustration, and ordered the Yellow Turban strongmen to sound the retreat signal.

Even if Zhang Bao was dull, he had already realized the seriousness of the problem. Whether he chose to attack the city or the camp outside the city, he would face a surprise attack from behind.

If he left too few troops behind, he would not be able to stop the surprise attack from the rear. If he left too many troops behind, the offensive momentum in the front would be insufficient.

After returning to the camp, Zhang Bao was at a loss as to what to do after thinking about the loss of more than 7,000 men in just four days of attack. He also heard that the imperial army had dealt a heavy blow to the Black Mountain Yellow Turbans, so he had no choice but to ask his brother Zhang Jue for help.

(2226 words)
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PS: "Book of the Later Han, Volume 56, Biography of Zhang, Wang, Zhong, and Chen, Chapter 46": Lingling was wet, and the wooden city walls were impossible to defend. The county was in a state of panic. The official Bai sent his family to seek refuge. Qiu was furious and said, "The prefect has been given the tiger seal of the state and appointed to a state. How could he care for his wife and children and undermine the prestige of the state? Anyone who says so will be beheaded!" He then gathered all the old and weak officials in the palace and ordered them to join in the defense of the city. They strung large wooden bows and used feather spears as arrows. They fired their arrows from a trigger, shooting over a thousand steps away, killing and wounding many.

(End of this chapter)