Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

By late September and early October, the cold winds outside the Great Wall had already brought a biting chill. The temperature plummeted with the strong cold front that arrived at the beginning of the month. With the exception of the Jiangdong region, most areas remained noticeably cooler. Jicheng, amidst this austere climate, seemed even more desolate. Gongsun Zan clutched the blood-stained reins, the frosty wind slicing through his face, causing it to sting. He gazed at the thick smoke rising from the Wuhuan camp outside the city, his fighting spirit as fierce as the wind.

A thin layer of frost coated the silver armor of the White Horse Volunteers, gleaming coldly in the dim light. Stretched before their saddles was the head of a Wuhuan general, a ferocious visage frozen beneath a wolfskin helmet. This was the culmination of last night's surprise attack. On this night of plummeting temperatures, Gongsun Zan personally led his light cavalry, their hooves crushing not only the frozen ground but also the Wuhuan defenses. The general's throat had been slashed in his sleep by a sharp blade, his tent ablaze. Amidst the chaos, Gongsun Zan, like a ghost, darted through the chaos, finally returning in triumph with the head.

At this moment, a scout covered in blood broke open the gate and shouted loudly: "My lord! The right general (Gongsun Xu) was ambushed at the west gate, and the caltrops pierced his horse. He...he broke through to protect the people..." Before he finished speaking, the stretcher was carried into the tent. Gongsun Xu's black armor was soaked in dark red, and the broken arrow was deeply embedded in his shoulder blade. In his coma, he was still clutching a half-broken "Gongsun" military flag. The flag was shaking in the cold wind, as if telling of the cruelty of the battle.

"Open the city gates!" Gongsun Zan shouted, his voice hoarse from the wind. Over five thousand white horsemen charged like arrows from a bow, treading through the morning frost. Their iron hooves crushed the frost and snow, making a crisp sound like the beating of war drums, shattering the fear bred by the Wuhuan soldiers at the sudden death of their leader.

Tadun's roar pierced the wind. The Wuhuan Chanyu wore a black bearskin cloak, which seemed especially heavy even in the chill wind. He wielded a nine-foot mace, its spikes gleaming coldly and menacingly. Upon catching sight of Gongsun Zan, Tadun burst into laughter, his voice filled with anger and resentment. "Gongsun Bogui! Your brother and Yan Gang are both half dead. Today is the burial place of your Youzhou army!"

Gongsun Zan responded with an icy "Kill!" The White Horse Volunteers instantly accelerated, charging towards the Wuhuan formation. Gongsun Zan led the charge, his broken sword transformed into a streak of silver light, and he was the first to cut down the oncoming Wuhuan knights. Blood splattered onto the frosted snow, instantly emitting a blinding crimson before being frozen by the frost.

The Wuhuan cavalry formed a spear array with their long spears, attempting to trap the White Horse Volunteers. The cold wind howled, rustling the flags and slightly shaking the spear array. Gongsun Zan shouted, his horse leaping high, his spear piercing the faces of two Wuhuan soldiers. His mount suddenly cried out, tripped by a Wuhuan trip wire. Gongsun Zan used the momentum to roll, sweeping his spear across, severing the ankles of three Wuhuan soldiers simultaneously. Their screams of pain were particularly poignant in the cold battlefield.

In the melee, Tadun seized his opportunity and charged forward. His mace, packing immense force and accompanied by a whirring sound, struck Gongsun Zan in the face. Gongsun Zan dodged, his spear thrusting at Tadun's ribs. Tadun reacted with remarkable speed, sweeping his mace. Gongsun Zan rolled out of the way, but his spear, like a venomous snake, slashed Tadun's thigh, leaving a deep wound visible to the bone. Blood gushed out, dripping onto the frozen ground, instantly losing its warmth.

Seeing the Chanyu wounded, the Wuhuan soldiers immediately fell into disarray. The sky was gloomy, with signs of impending rain and snow, adding to the grim atmosphere. The White Horse Volunteers seized the opportunity to launch a general attack, their cries of battle resounding through the sky, intertwining with the sound of the wind. Gongsun Zan wiped the blood from his mouth and gazed upon the crumbling Wuhuan formation, his eyes ablaze with the desire for revenge. He brandished his spear and shouted, "Men of Youzhou, today it's either them or us!"

Suddenly, a deafening horn sounded in the distance, and a cloud of dust rose on the horizon that covered the sky - the reinforcements of the Wuhuan came like a tide, and the newly arrived cavalry unfurled a black banner in front of the formation, with the wolf head totem on it baring its fangs and claws in the wind.

"General! It's the elite cavalry of Zuo Xian Wang!" The roars of his personal guards were shredded by the wind. Gongsun Zan reined in his frightened warhorse, his long iron spear pointed diagonally toward the sky. As he watched Tadun retreat into a new formation, surrounded by his personal guards, a grim smile returned to the Chanyu's bloodstained face. The newly arrived Wuhuan cavalry quickly formed into a wedge formation, thousands of bone arrows nocked simultaneously, gleaming a cold, green light in the twilight.

"Form a shield formation!" Gongsun Zan had barely finished his words when a hail of arrows tore through the air. The remaining shields of the White Horse Volunteers clashed with a clashing sound, and sharp arrows pierced through their cowhide shields, sending soldiers screaming and falling. The Wuhuan reinforcements seized the opportunity to charge. The sound of horses' hooves rolled like thunder across the frozen ground, their iron hooves crushing the bodies of the previous soldiers, splashing dark red blood and mud.

Gongsun Zan slammed his iron spear into the ground, cracking the frozen earth within a few feet. He then charged forward, thrusting his spear forward to meet the attack. Like a silver dragon emerging from the abyss, the spear's shadow pierced three riders in a row, sending shreds of chainmail swirling in the wind. However, more Wuhuan cavalrymen flanked him, and his horse suddenly buckled—its legs entangled in the chain hammers hurled by the Wuhuan. With a roar, Gongsun Zan abandoned his horse and soared into the air, sweeping his spear across the air. He knocked a Wuhuan knight off his horse, but upon landing, he found himself surrounded by more than a dozen enemy cavalrymen.

"My Lord!" Yan Gang wielded his one arm, cutting a bloody path through the city. The remnants of the army struggled to gather behind him. Gongsun Zan swept his iron spear across, the blood on the tassel falling onto the frozen ground and forming ice chips. He looked at the few dozen remaining cavalrymen beside him. The new Wuhuan formation outside the city was as unshakable as a steel wall. The cold wind blew the bloody odor towards him. He watched Tadun holding his mace high in the distance, laughed a triumphant laugh, and finally plunged his iron spear into the ground: "Sound the horn to call back the troops!"

At the sound of the retreat horn, the White Horse Volunteers fought and retreated. Gongsun Zan held his iron spear upside down to cover the rear, the deep gouge on the spear shaft bearing the mark of the clash with the mace. He cast one last glance back at the corpse-strewn battlefield. The bonfires in the Wuhuan camp outside the city gradually lit up, like countless pairs of eerie ghostly eyes. The gates of Jicheng slowly closed behind him, and the iron spear shaft creaked in his grip—this life-or-death battle had just begun.

The resounding thud of the city gates slamming shut hadn't yet faded. Gongsun Zan had just stepped into the meeting room, his bloodstained cloak still dripping with icy water when a messenger stumbled into the tent, bamboo slips rustling in his arms. "General! Yan Liang and Wen Chou have razed the entire territory of Guangyang County! All the forts along the way have fallen!" Before he could finish his words, another scout blasted aside the felt curtain, his armor stained with frost and blood. "Zhang He and Gao Lan's troops are advancing westward along the southern slopes of the Yanshan Mountains. They haven't encountered any resistance in the counties they've passed through, and they've even...opened their granaries to provide food relief to the refugees!"

Gongsun Zan's grip on the spear suddenly tightened, leaving a pale, blue mark on his palm. Military reports, still lingering on the desk, piled high, each one burning his gaze—the illegible handwriting of the Guangyang prefect's final letter, the scribbled message that "Yuan's army did not harm a single person"—these images collided with memories of Yan Liang's looting.

"What a combination of kindness and force!" Gongsun Zan suddenly overturned the table, sending bamboo slips and wine cups shattering on the bluestone floor. He gazed at the map showing Yuan Shao's forces seeping into the heart of Youzhou like an ink blot, and recalled the details his scouts had reported the day before: every time Yuan's army captured a city, they carved a message "Protect the People" into the bricks; even the ruins of the burned-out camps were covered with wooden signs reading "Do Not Disturb Civilians."

The cold wind howled outside the tent, mocking the absurdity of the situation. At this moment, two of Yuan Shao's fierce generals were fighting violence with violence, while the other two were using hypocritical tactics to win over the people. This conspiracy was even more difficult to resist than the Wuhuan cavalry.

The candlelight flickered in the conference room, casting a flickering shadow on the maps covering the walls. Blood-soaked generals gathered in the tent, the clanging of armor mixed with heavy breathing like the muffled rhythm of war drums. "General! Zhang He and Gao Lan's ladders are only five days' journey from Jicheng!" The lieutenant suddenly ripped open his bloodstained sleeve, "If we don't support the defenders, the city will be in imminent danger!"

"No!" Yan Gang leaned on his spear with one arm, his broken body swaying in the candlelight. "The Wuhuan scouts gathered in the dense forest west of the city yesterday. Tadun could return at any time!" An argument instantly broke out in the tent. Some shouted for troops to be dispatched to support, while others shouted to hold on and wait for help. The sound of the voices almost blew off the cowhide roof of the tent.

Gongsun Zan leaned against a pillar, his fingertips repeatedly rubbing the notch on his spear shaft. It was the crack left by the collision with Tadun's mace, and now it felt as rough as sandpaper. When the argument reached its climax, he suddenly laughed, a laugh that shook the dust from the beams and stunned the generals into a momentary silence.

"Do you know," his voice seemed to be squeezed out from the deepest part of his chest, hoarse with the smell of rust, "yesterday when I was patrolling the city wall, a child stuffed half a cold wheat cake into my hand?" "The tip of the gun slowly passed over the dense enemy marks on the map," he said, "General, only when you are well fed can you kill all the bad guys."

The tent was so quiet that one could hear the soft thud of candle wax falling to the ground. Gongsun Zan suddenly straightened his back, his armor clanging with a crisp sound, and the thud of his spear barrel hitting the ground startled crows from under the eaves. "I, Gongsun Zan, joined the army at the age of fifteen. I've spent half my life in battle. I thought fame and honor were the most important things. But now..." He ripped open his shirt, revealing a crisscross of scars, old and new. The arrow wound from Jie Bridge hadn't healed, and the knife scars from the battle against Wuhuan had added to the scars. "These scars tell me that what we should truly defend was never the city itself—it's the light in the eyes of the people in this city!"

"General!" the deputy general knelt on one knee with red eyes, "I am willing to lead the death squad out of the city..."

"That's not necessary." Gongsun Zan raised his hand to interrupt, "Pass the order down. Open the city to meet the enemy at noon tomorrow." His eyes swept over every face, young or old, "If I die outside the city, you will defend the city to the death. When Yuan Shao comes, surrender and let Yuan Shao stop the Wuhuan invasion, but before that—" The spear blade suddenly pointed straight at the sky, making everyone's face look bloodshot, "I want everyone in the world to know that Gongsun Zan's spear, even if it breaks, must be stuck in the land of Youzhou!"

In the dead silence of the meeting hall, Gongsun Zan's oath struck the hearts of the generals like a hammer. Candlelight flickered in the reddened eyes of the generals. In the tense silence, only the sporadic sound of clappers from afar rattled their tense nerves.

"Report!" The gatekeeper stumbled into the tent, his chain mail clattering. "The... the young lady is back!"

These words resonated like thunder. Gongsun Zan's grip on his spear trembled, and the tip of the spear scraped against the blue brick floor with a sharp sound. All the generals turned their heads to look outside, only to see dusk, wind and snow, sweeping into the tent. A pure white figure scurried into the tent, treading on the scattered snow. Gongsun's pale face was still rimed with frost from the Great Wall, and the bloodstains on her black armor made it unclear whether she was a friend or foe.

Gongsun Zan's tense muscles suddenly relaxed. His iron spear clanged against the pillar, and his bloodstained fingers trembled as he placed them on his daughter's shoulder. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, dimming the glimmer of hope. "Rou'er, has your uncle-master sent any reinforcements?"