Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Yan Yan's knuckles, gripping the spear, suddenly turned white, and the scar beneath his black armor throbbed. Amidst the smoke and dust, the snow-riding white horse charged left and right, its rider's silver spear whirling, tearing Zhang Yi's spear array apart like thin paper. Memories gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake. The bloody scene outside Chang'an a few years ago flooded before his eyes—the same white horse, the same silver armor, Ma Chao charging single-handedly into the vast enemy, the sparks from Liu Dan's being sent flying still burning in his eyes.

"Report... Report to the General!" the messenger's roar interrupted his thoughts. "General Zhang Yi has retreated to the second line of chevaux de frise!" Yan Yan let out a low, animal-like growl, slamming his spear against the commander's desk, rattling the bronze command arrows. Back then, Young Master Liu Fan and Second Young Master Liu Dan, known as Yizhou's foremost general, had attacked Chang'an together, but Second Young Master Liu Dan couldn't hold out for more than ten rounds against Ma Chao's spear. Despite Young Master Liu Fan's strategic prowess and Second Young Master Liu Dan's valor, they were utterly defeated by Ma Chao, with both young masters dead and the rest captured. Only then did Ma Chao show mercy and release them. On the day they returned to Yizhou with their two cold corpses, the image of their old master Liu Yan coughing up blood overlapped with the image of the white-horse warrior before them.

The mountain breeze carried the scent of blood. Yan Yan watched the general wipe the blood from his mouth, his pupils constricting. That carefree gesture was exactly the same as the contempt Ma Chao had shown when he speared Liu Dan.

Yan Yan's black armor trembled violently in the twilight, and the command flag in his hand was twisted and deformed. "General Zhang Yi!" He grabbed the shoulder pads of his deputy beside him, and the bronze armor made a sharp sound. "Immediately lead three battalions of sword and shield soldiers and five teams of crossbowmen to support Zhang Yi! We must trap this cavalry on the north slope!"

The deputy general stared at the vein bulging on his commander's forehead, about to clasp his fists in acceptance, when Yan Yan suddenly lowered his voice and rasped, "That white horse... Look at that white horse!" His gaze fixed on the dusty depths, as if burning through the snow-white. A mountain breeze, carrying the stench of blood, shattered Yan Yan's whispers, "But Ma Chao is dead... If it were really him, Zhang Yi wouldn't have lasted more than ten rounds..."

Even so, Yan Yan's hand gripping his spear broke into a cold sweat. On the battlefield, Zhang Yi's spear shadow tangled with the silver light of the White Horse Warrior. This stalemate only made him doubtful. If it was really Ma Chao, how could he fight so effectively against a mere Zhang Yi?

"Quick!" Yan Yan suddenly shouted, shocking the deputy general to stagger back. "No matter whether it is a human or a ghost, use a crossbow to shoot that white horse into a hedgehog!" He looked at the cavalry rushing like a black tide, his Adam's apple rolling up and down, and the old scar under the black armor throbbing.

Before he finished speaking, a long neighing of a war horse was heard in the distance. The white horse warrior had already shot Zhang Yi's deputy general away with a spear. Under the blood-red setting sun, the blood drops dripping from the silver spear actually formed a dark red bead chain.

Zhang Yi led the sword and shield soldiers and rushed forward like a black torrent, with the broadsword in his hand raised high: "Don't panic, General Zhang Yi, Zhang Yi is here to help you!" Before he finished speaking, the sword and shield soldiers in the front row had formed a shield wall, and the crossbowmen behind him drew their bows together, and the sound of breaking through the air tore through the smoke.

Ma Chao's pale face was hidden beneath his silver helmet, his spear gleaming with a cold gleam. Facing a pincer attack from two fierce Shu generals, his attacks, though less ferocious than before, remained as precise as a venomous snake. Zhang Yi's spear stabbed him in the ribs, while Zhang Yi's broadsword, with immense force, slashed at his neck. He gently gripped the horse's belly, sidestepping, his spear sweeping across, forcing both men backward.

As the shield wall of the sword and shield soldiers closed, the cavalry's momentum slowed. Ma Chao, knowing a prolonged battle wouldn't be advantageous, feinted his spear, deflecting Zhang Yi's broadsword. His white horse suddenly reared, the gravel kicked up by its front hooves blinding everyone. When the smoke and dust cleared, he had already retreated back into the formation like an arrow, his silver spear arcing through the air.

"Enemy general, don't run!" Zhang Yi roared, urging his horse to pursue, the wind from his blade swirling up dust. The white horse's hooves flew, and in a blink of an eye, it disappeared into the cavalry formation. Ma Chao sat upright on his horse, holding the command flag high in one hand. The five thousand cavalrymen immediately moved as if they were their own arms, splitting into three groups and beginning to encircle the enemy. Scimitars and spears intertwined in a deadly vortex, throwing the sword and shield soldiers, who had just stabilized their position, to the ground. Zhang Yi stared at the silver armor faintly visible in the blood mist, and his sword in his hand almost clenched with water - the white horses were too fast, the cavalry too fierce, this was no longer Zhang Lu's weak force in the past!

Yan Yan's knuckles gripped the commander's flag, nearly digging into the pole. Cold sweat trickled down his spine beneath his black armor. The silver-armored figure in the dust, poking Zhang Yi's broadsword with his spear and swinging Zhang Yi's spear tassel, was an exact replica of the powerful Ma Chao he remembered from those days outside Chang'an—even the curl of his white horse's mane as it raised its hooves felt like a nightmare etched deep within his eyes.

"General! Over half of Zhang Yi's troops have been killed!" The scout's blood-stained roar pierced the roar of the war drums. Yan Yan looked out at the battlefield, seeing five thousand cavalrymen, under the command of the White Horse Warrior, transformed into a rolling meat grinder. The sword and shield formations were repeatedly cut into pieces. The defense line barely held by Zhang Yi and Zhang Yi was collapsing at a visible rate. The mountain wind carried the pungent smell of blood, mixed with the dying cries of the soldiers.

"Send a message to Wu Yi! Sound the horn to retreat immediately!" Yan Yan suddenly tore off the laces of his cloak, and his golden armor gleamed coldly under the blood-red setting sun. "Central troops, listen up! Follow me to form the Crane Wing Formation!" He suddenly drew the sword from his waist, pointing the blade directly at the snow-capped white horse. "Today, no matter what, we must trap this evil star in the formation!"

The blast of the horn ripped through the smoke like a tear of blood, and Wu Yi's raised banner froze in mid-air. Soldiers on the ladders below the city walls struggled to climb, their faces flushed purple from the kerosene poured on the walls. "What the hell is that old bastard Yan Yan doing?!" He kicked the battering ram beside him, rattling his bronze armor. "Another half hour and we'll have the city broken!"

The deputy general clutched his cloak tightly, his knuckles bruised by the armor, bleeding: "General! Military orders cannot be disobeyed!" Before he finished speaking, a roar like a landslide suddenly came from the distance. Wu Yi turned his head and saw a black mass of cavalry emerging from the smoke and dust in the northwest.

"Retreat!" Wu Yi roared hoarsely, slamming his command flag into the ground. The attackers retreated like a tide, their ladders abandoned and swaying in the moat, reflecting the fading sun in the sky. It seemed as if this seemingly certain victory in the siege had been shattered.

As Yang Bai smashed open the vermilion lacquer gate of the Tianshi Temple, blood still seeped from the cracks in his armor. "My Lord! The Yan Yan army... has suddenly retreated!" Before he could finish his words, Yang Chou stumbled and grasped the doorframe, his bloody fingers leaving long marks on the blue bricks. "A cavalry force has arrived from the northwest, scattering the Yizhou army!"

Zhang Lu's hand, clutching the tiger talisman, trembled violently, the wet ink on the desk smeared by the corner of his sleeve. He quickly rushed up to the terrace, a mountain breeze swirling gunpowder smoke in his face. Down the northern slope, five thousand cavalrymen charged back and forth like a raging black tide, each charge tearing scarlet gashes through the Yizhou army. The white horse at the forefront, treading on the snow, was particularly striking. Its rider, with his silver spear whirling, forced the two fierce generals, Zhang Yi and Zhang Yi, to retreat repeatedly.

"Is this... is this really my Hanzhong cavalry?" Zhang Lu muttered to himself, his voice trembling unconsciously. The cavalrymen he remembered, so lax in their training, their formations so crooked, had ever possessed such a thunderous force? Even more frightening was the white-horse commander—he controlled his horse with ease, his spear moves unpredictable.

Yang Bai swallowed and pointed at the silver-armored figure in the dust. "My lord, who is this man..." His words trailed off. Suddenly, the White Horse warrior raised his spear, and the five thousand cavalry roared in unison, splitting Yan Yan's central formation like a giant black axe. Zhang Lu, gazing at this unprecedented display of military might, felt his Adam's apple rise and fall, ultimately fading into a sigh. "Whoever it is, this man saved Hanzhong today."

Zhang Lu slammed the carved railings of the Tianshi Temple, making the tiles rustle. "Pass the order down, there will be a huge reward after the battle! If we can recruit this man for our own use, why should we worry about the security of Hanzhong?!" A long-lost brilliance flashed in his eyes. Looking at the white horse warrior galloping in the smoke and dust, he seemed to have seen a rare treasure.

Yang Chou gripped the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist, his voice churning with unspoken arguments. He felt that the general, who had fought Zhang Yi and Zhang Yi for a long time without a clear winner, was not truly the legendary warrior he had been. But then he glanced back at the pile of Yizhou soldiers' corpses beneath the city wall, and recalled his own miserable state under the enemy's attack. He swallowed the words that were on his lips.

A mountain breeze swept across the eaves of the Tianshi Temple, carrying the distant cries of battle. Yang Chou watched the snow-capped white horse weaving through the enemy lines like a ghost, the cavalrymen maneuvering effortlessly under the command of their general. A complex wave of emotions welled up in his heart. Even though he felt resentful, he had to admit that it was this sudden "variable" that had pulled the Hanzhong defense line, which had been on the verge of collapse, back from the brink of death.

Yan Yan's black armor cloak rustled as he wielded his spear to deflect the incoming arrows, leading his central army forward like a black iron stream. Zhang Yi, bloody as a blanket, the nicks on his broadsword still dripping blood. Seeing the familiar black banner, his voice changed: "Old General! That...that White Horse bandit is truly formidable!"

Yan Yan's pupils constricted. Amidst the smoke and dust, the White Horse warrior was fighting two enemies alone. He deflected Zhang Yi's spear with his silver spear, dodging Zhang Yi's slashing broadsword with his sidestep. Though his movements were clumsy, they nonetheless contained the exquisite sophistication of the Western Liang Ma family spear. Memories surged back in his mind. The scene of Ma Chao charging single-handedly into the Yizhou army outside Chang'an overlapped with the image before him. His hand gripping the spear trembled slightly.

Yan Yan could hardly hold his spear, and his bronze wrist guard made a crackling sound when it hit the saddle: "Wei, Wei Hou Ma Chao... you... you are not in Chang'an..." His voice was torn apart by the howling mountain wind. He looked at the pale but still stern face hidden under the silver helmet, and still couldn't help trembling.

Ma Chao's white horse trotted closer, his silver spear flashing a cold light in the twilight. He threw his head back and laughed, his voice hoarse with the sound of long-term illness: "General Yan Yan, it's been a long time since we last met! I indeed had a narrow escape in Chang'an City, and I never expected to see you again on this battlefield today. Ma Chao is truly delighted!" His laughter sent a chill down the back of Yan Yan's neck, and the memory of the young master Liu Fan being thrown into the air overlapped with the scene before his eyes.

"Marquis Wei!" Yan Yan suddenly pulled off his helmet, his gray hair disheveled in the wind. "I don't know why you appeared in Hanzhong... We are sorry for the offense. Could you please..."

"Old General, are you afraid of fighting?" Ma Chao suddenly pointed his silver spear at his throat, but stopped three inches from his armor. "Although you were defeated by me back then, you are now a powerful force. Why don't you fight today?"

Yan Yan's forehead veins bulged, his clasped hands practically digging into his flesh. "I dare not offend the might of the Marquis! I only beg you to permit our retreat, and we'll discuss this another day..." Before he could finish his words, Zhang Yi and Zhang Yi's eyes widened behind him. A commander so fearless on ordinary days, now so servile before an enemy general? But looking at Ma Chao's snow-capped white steed, and recalling the rumors of those he had slaughtered to the point of abandoning their armor and weapons, the two men swallowed their doubts.

The mountain wind swept past, carrying the smell of blood. Ma Chao stared at Yan Yan for a moment, then suddenly put away his gun and laughed: "Forget it! For the old general's sake, I'll allow you to retreat! But the next time we meet..." His voice suddenly turned cold, "It won't be that easy!"