Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The north wind rustled like a knife, rattling the icy ridges on the Tongguan city walls. At three quarters past three in the morning, the night still darkening into a deep black, the female guards led by Dong Bai and Ma Yunlu, like crimson dragons, galloped across the snow to escort Li Ru. These female guards were carefully selected and fiercely courageous. Though clad in light soft armor and jingling belts at their waists, their eyes could not conceal their sharp gaze. The scimitars slung at the side of their saddles gleamed coldly in the cold night, proving that they were no ordinary women.

Upon arriving at Tongguan, Li Ru didn't rush to the Black Mountain camp. He first rested briefly in the warm tent prepared by the garrison commander. The table was soon filled with steaming mutton soup and freshly baked Hu pancakes. He slowly stirred the broth with a silver spoon, savoring it with warm rice wine, each sip revealing a leisurely and carefree demeanor. After his hearty meal, he washed the dust from his journey in a copper basin, meticulously combed his hair, and meticulously adjusted his moon-white brocade robe, the cloud patterns embroidered on the wide sleeves appearing and disappearing with his movements.

When the morning light pierced through the clouds and the sky brightened, Li Ru, escorted by two women, rode in a richly decorated carriage and leisurely headed towards the Black Mountain Army's encampment. The carriage's wheels creaked as they rolled over the snow. The female guards on either side stood tall and straight like pine trees, their red cloaks fluttering in the wind like flowing flames.

At this moment, the atmosphere in the Black Mountain military camp was tense and ready to explode. Du Xiong and other generals had already been pacing back and forth in the main tent, occasionally peeking through the curtains. "Why haven't they arrived yet? According to the distance, they should have arrived long ago!" Du Xiong clutched the sword at his waist, his anxiety almost overflowing from his eyes. "Are they delaying on purpose to intimidate us?"

The old strategist frowned, twisted his beard and whispered: "The man from Chang'an is so patient, he should not be underestimated..."

Zhang Yan, however, sat upright on a tiger-skin chair, leisurely playing with the broken blade at his waist, a smile on his lips: "What's the rush? We are refugees whose lives are worthless. Now that a great figure from Chang'an has condescended to meet us, why not wait a while?" He turned and ordered his men: "Go, prepare the best wine and food, and pick a few skilled people to clean up the camp. When distinguished guests come, we must let them respect the demeanor of our Black Mountain Army!" After saying this, he tilted his head back and took a big gulp of the liquor. The spicy liquor dripped down his beard, splashing tiny drops of water on the cold ground.

A bitter north wind whipped snowflakes through the Black Mountain military camp. Suddenly, a soldier stumbled into the tent and shouted, "General! The envoys from Chang'an have arrived!" Before he could finish his words, Zhang Yan abruptly stood up, his tiger-skin chair scraping against the ground. Du Xiong and the others simultaneously unsheathed their ring-handled swords, their cold light causing the firelight in the tent to flicker.

"Hurry up and welcome them in!" Zhang Yan's broken blade knocked against the table, knocking off half a bowl of cold wine. The soldier scratched his red, frozen ears, looking embarrassed: "But...but they stopped less than a mile away from the camp, and they were still hesitating and saying..."

"Just say what you want to say!" Du Xiong's roar caused the snow on the top of the tent to fall.

The soldier swallowed his saliva and said: "From a distance, I saw that although those people were wearing bright clothes and armor, they looked... looked like women!"

帐内瞬间炸开锅。&34;女子？&34;年轻将领猛地拍案而起，&34;长安这是拿妇道人家消遣我们？&34;杜雄更是气得青筋暴起：&34;莫非以为我黑山军无人，竟派一群妇人来谈判？&34;

The old strategist suddenly raised his hand to signal silence, his fingers like dry branches rubbing his chin: "Everyone, wait a minute." He looked out at the snow outside the tent, his eyes gleaming, "Since they are using female soldiers as guards, the visitors must be female relatives of special status. Ma Chao has always valued friendship. If they were not extremely important figures, why would he send his family members into danger?"

Zhang Yan's pupils suddenly contracted, and he spun the broken blade in his palm. "Sir, are you saying... that the person coming here might be Ma Chao's closest relative?"

"That's right!" The old counselor's voice suddenly rose. "If it's really Ma Chao's family who are here in person, it shows how much Chang'an values ​​our army! Besides, it's really against etiquette for women to enter the camp rashly..."

"Good!" Zhang Yan suddenly laughed, causing sparks to fly from the brazier in the tent. "Pass the order down, all troops, assemble! Du Xiong, follow me with ten personal guards to greet our distinguished guests with the highest standards!" He strode out of the tent. The clanging of armor mixed with the wind and snow startled crows from a distant dead tree.

A chill wind whipped fine snow across Zhang Yan's mottled iron neck guard. He squinted his eyes, gazing at the red-lacquered, gilded carriage in the distance, amidst billowing banners. Four dark warhorses formed a wall, five hundred female guards stood with halberds in hand. On either side of the carriage stood a valiant female general, their red capes rustling in the wind, subduing the blizzard.

The old strategist's fingers clutched Zhang Yan's sleeves tightly, his voice trembling: "General, the regulations of this chariot..." Before he finished speaking, Zhang Yan strode forward, the clanging of armor startling the crows roosting in the dead trees. He knelt on one knee, his broken blade across the snow: "Zhang Yan of the Black Mountain Army, bringing with him 300,000 women and children, risking his life to surrender! I beg your pardon for this rash invitation! May I ask your name?"

The sound of horse hooves approached from afar. The woman on the red-maned horse on the left suddenly removed her helmet, revealing her black hair cascading down like a waterfall. Her eyes and brows held a heroic spirit that rivaled that of any man. "I am Ma Yunlu, sister of the Prince of Liang!" The female general on the snow-blue horse on the right simultaneously unveiled her cloak, the kirin pattern on her black armor gleaming with a cold light. "Granddaughter of Grand Tutor Dong, Ma Chao's fiancée—Dong Bai!"

The snowy plain was instantly silent. Du Xiong's hand gripping the hilt of his sword trembled slightly, and the old strategist's beard quivered violently in the cold wind. Zhang Yan looked up suddenly, his eyes reflecting the two cold weapons and the faint golden embroidery between the gaps in the carriage curtains. He suddenly laughed so hard that icicles fell from his head: "So it's you two distinguished guests in person! I, Zhang, am so blind that I kept you waiting in the wind and snow!" He knocked his head heavily, his forehead covered with snow. "Please follow me into the camp!"

As Zhang Yan led the way, his eyes kept glancing at the carriage adorned with dragons and phoenixes. Ma Yunlu and Dong Bai stood on either side, their silver spears and meteor hammers gleaming coldly in the snow. How could such a display be reserved for ordinary figures? His throat moved slightly, and he wondered, "Could it be Ma Teng himself?" But the words reached his lips, but he swallowed them back. Chang'an's strength was uncertain, and a rash attempt could lead to unexpected consequences.

The snow crunched under his boots. Approaching the main tent, Zhang Yan leaned over to greet him, his gaze fixed on the carriage curtain. With the tinkling of bells and pendants, a thin, elderly man slowly emerged from the carriage. His pale face shrouded in the shadow of his sable fur coat, yet his every move exuded an indescribable dignity. Zhang Yan's pupils constricted—this figure, frail as a withered twig, was a stark contrast to the legendary Ma Teng, the fierce general known to dominate Western Liang!

Seeing this, the old strategist quietly tugged at the corner of Zhang Yan's clothes. Zhang Yan suppressed his doubts, put on a smile, and clasped his fists: "Your Excellency has come from afar. Please come into the tent and rest!" He caught a glimpse of Dong Bai's hand on the hilt of his sword, then glanced at the flashing hidden weapon at Ma Yunlu's waist, and suddenly realized that this seemingly frail old man might be the key figure who truly controlled the lifeblood of Chang'an.

Sparks from the brazier leaped onto the tent ceiling, casting distorted shadows across the cowhide tent. The thin old man lifted his wide sleeves and, without even glancing at the others, ascended the main seat. His brocade robe scraped against the tiger-skin mat with a subtle rustling sound. Dong Bai and Ma Yunlu simultaneously drew their swords and advanced. Their black armor and silver spears shone in the firelight, like two gate gods calming the restless atmosphere within the tent.

Du Xiong's veins bulged, and he took a half step forward, about to explode: "This is clearly..." Zhang Yan grabbed his wrist with lightning speed, and the iron-like force made the ring-handled sword fall to the ground with a clang. The old strategist yanked Du Xiong's belt, his skinny fingers almost digging into his flesh: "Shut up!"

A burst of sparks erupted from the brazier, casting a sickly red on Li Ru's pale face. He held the ceramic wine cup between his fingers, slowly taking a sip. Suddenly, he slammed the cup down onto the table. The cup shattered, and the wine, mixed with the broken porcelain, splashed onto Du Xiong's boots.

"What kind of wine is so unpalatable?" Li Ru took out a handkerchief and wiped the corner of his mouth, his tone filled with three parts of contempt and seven parts of impatience. The sound of metal rubbing suddenly rang out in the tent, and several generals stood up with swords drawn. Du Xiong even shouted: "Don't be so presumptuous, old man!"

Zhang Yan suddenly crossed his arms to stop the group. The dull thud of armor colliding shook the air. He stared at the bamboo fold fan faintly visible in Li Ru's sleeve, his Adam's apple rolling as he swallowed his anger. "Now that our distinguished guest has entered the tent, I hope you will identify yourself."

Li Ru slowly smoothed the wrinkles on his sleeves and suddenly chuckled. The laughter echoed in the silent tent, startling the crows on the beams and sending them flying. "It was my negligence." He raised his eyes, a cold light flashing in them. "Li Ru of Xiliang, courtesy name Wenyou."

The air seemed to freeze in an instant. The parchment scroll in the old strategist's hands clattered to the ground, and Du Xiong's grip on the hilt of his sword trembled. Zhang Yan stared at the face hidden in the shadows, finally remembering the ruthless assassin who had wreaked havoc in Chang'an ten years ago. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end—it turned out that what Chang'an had sent wasn't an envoy, but a bloodless, soft knife.

Li Ru's fingertips caressed the rim of the shattered wine cup, and he looked at Zhang Yan's gray-tinged temples and chuckled softly: "Since you invited me here, you must have a reason. Besides, it's not easy for the general to come here in this heavy snow with hundreds of thousands of elderly, weak, women and children." Before he finished speaking, the wind and snow outside suddenly rushed into the tent, causing sparks to fly from the brazier.

Zhang Yan clenched the broken blade, his Adam's apple rolling under the iron neck guard. "I am Zhang Yan. I once joined my adoptive father Zhang Niujiao in the uprising. After the defeat, I led my troops into hiding in the Black Mountains." He paused deliberately, catching a glimpse of Li Ru casually picking his ears. He couldn't help but emphasize his tone, "I came here in the snow because of urgent military intelligence!"

"Oh?" Li Ru asked curiously, "Black Mountain is a thousand miles away from Chang'an, yet they got the news earlier than our scouts?" His drawn-out tone made Du Xiong's veins bulge.

Zhang Yan slammed the broken blade onto the frozen ground and said, "Yuan Shao's son Yuan Tan and general Yan Liang are leading an army of 50,000 from Youzhou and marching westward. Their target is Chang'an!" Before he finished speaking, Dong Bai and Ma Yunlu were startled.

The two women were about to speak when Li Ru's eyes signaled them to retreat. Li Ru's wide, dark sleeves hung low like a dark cloud. He stared at the scar between Zhang Yan's brows and suddenly chuckled, "Yuan Tan's 50,000-man army..." His words dragged out so long that the sentries outside the tent tightened their grip on their spears. "The Yuan family kid doesn't know how to die. Well, I have to thank General Zhang. I've already heard your news in Chang'an. Anything else?"

The tent fell into a dead silence, with only the howling of the wind and snow. Zhang Yan looked at the bottomless gloom in Li Ru's eyes and suddenly realized that this seemingly simple military intelligence report had already become a life-and-death game in which both sides tested each other's strength.