Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Ink-black clouds hung heavy over the city walls, and a fierce wind whipped up gravel, making the soldiers' armor clang. After five days of unsuccessful assaults, the Yuan army suddenly saw the "Liang" battle flag, which had been fluttering on the top of Chang'an City, suddenly fall, replaced by a pale banner of surrender. Yan Liang's yellow horse jumped up in shock, nearly dropping his wind-splashing blade: "That old scoundrel Li Ru, is finally surrendering?"

Yuan Tan stroked his beard and laughed, his brocade robe rustling in the wind. "I thought the Xiliang army had some backbone!" He took the petition for peace and war from his attendant. The ink on the yellowed silk was still wet, and Li Ru's handwriting was still neat and elegant, but it was filled with the lamentations of "cut off food and grass" and "loose morale".

Yuan Tan frowned as he flipped through the documents, then suddenly sneered: "It's just a delaying tactic! You've been holding the city for five days, and now you want to surrender it?" Xin Ping approached, waving his folding fan, a cunning look in his eyes: "My lord, you're wise! It's obvious that you see our army is unstoppable and are just trying to buy time."

"Pass the order!" Yan Liang shouted, shaking the flags in the hands of his personal guards violently. "Tell old Li Ru that if you don't open the city and surrender immediately, when the city is captured, no one will be spared!" The Yuan army suddenly erupted in deafening laughter, and obscene words were blown to the top of the city wall by the strong wind.

A chill wind whipped snowflakes against the city walls. Li Ru stumbled, clinging to the parapet. His gilded feather fan clattered to the ground. His gray beard danced in the wind. As he gazed at the array of Yuan's troops below, bloodshot eyes welled up in his cloudy eyes. "Are you really...really not going to negotiate peace?" His hoarse voice was ripped to shreds by the wind.

Amid the panicked footsteps of the soldiers fleeing from the city walls, Li Ru suddenly grabbed a lieutenant's arm, his knuckles turning white from the force: "Heaven has doomed me!"

Yan Liang's personal guards witnessed this scene vividly. As they rode back to camp to report, Li Ru's pounding on the wall, his flushed complexion, and his mournful cry of "God has doomed me," all served as irrefutable evidence of the Xiliang army's impasse. And, hidden from their view, deep within the tower, Li Ru leisurely adjusted his sleeves, the curl of his lips colder than the ice on the wall.

Yan Liang listened to his personal soldiers vividly describe Li Ru's "panic," stroking his beard and laughing so hard that ice chips fell from his armor. Xin Ping shook his wine cup, and the amber wine rippled in the candlelight: "That old man has been pretending to be a tough guy for five days, and now he's finally panicking! The city must be out of food and supplies, and they can't even get enough arrows!"

"If he hadn't turned Wei Yan away that day, breaking the spirit of Xiliang..." Yan Liang gulped down a bowl of strong liquor, the spicy liquid dripping down his beard, "How could our army have seized the initiative so easily? Tomorrow the snow stops, and it will be time to capture Chang'an!" He slammed the table, shaking the sheepskin map on it so much that it jumped. The candlelight cast a flickering light on his angular profile.

Yuan Tan hurriedly stood up to pour wine, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping the scattered snow: "General, you are a brave man. If this battle is successful, I will definitely write to my father, detailing your achievements!" Before he finished speaking, his personal guards suddenly shouted from outside the tent: "General! The snow is getting heavier!"

Yan Liang lifted the curtain and looked out, only to see heavy snow falling, covering the camp's flags and armor in an instant. He reached out to catch the snowflakes, letting the chill seep into his palm: "Just in time! This snow will not only freeze the moat, but also crush the enemy's fighting spirit." As he turned, his eyes swept over the drunken Xin Ping and Yuan Tan, and a determined smile curved his lips. "Tonight, we will gather our strength and conquer Chang'an tomorrow!"

Inside the tent, the aroma of wine mixed with the stench of blood filled the air amidst the snowstorm. Suddenly, a personal guard stumbled into the tent, the wind and snow carrying a chilling chill in their faces: "Report! Smoke is rising from Chang'an!" Before he had finished speaking, Xin Ping was already laughing so hard that he was bent over backwards. The wine spilled from the jade cup in his hand, leaving dark stains on the tiger-skin rug: "It's just a last-ditch struggle!" He staggered to his feet, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping off the sheepskin map on the table. "Ma Chao is thousands of miles away. This smoke is nothing more than an old man's spirit-calling banner!"

Yan Liang's laughter shook the ice off his armor. He grabbed the wine jar and drank it, the acrid liquid dripping down his beard: "Tomorrow when we capture the city, ask this old man whose help he is asking for with the signal smoke?" In his drunken state, he slammed the wine jar against the pillar, sending shards flying and causing the candle flame to flicker.

Yuan Tan stumbled, holding onto the table, his eyes bloodshot, unaware that his crown was askew. "Good! Good!" He clapped his hands and laughed wildly, his brocade sash hanging loosely in front of his wine-stained collar. "Tomorrow, when the city is captured, I will hold a banquet in the palace and use Li Ru's blood to toast all the heroes!"

Outside the tent, the howling wind and snow tore the three men's wild laughter to shreds. In the distance, the smoke from the top of Chang'an City, wrapped in thick black smoke, rose straight into the sky. Beneath the leaden sky, it twisted like a ferocious beast, quietly waiting for its prey to fall into its trap.

Snowflakes rustled against Zhang Yan's helmet. His nails dug deep into his palms, his gaze fixed on Chang'an City, piercing the night sky. Because of the ambush, he dared not light a fire in the freezing weather. The chill seeped through the cracks in his armor, seeping into his bones, yet he felt a burning sensation. His lieutenant beside him couldn't help but speak: "General, it's already the fifth day. Could Li Ru be..." Before he could finish his words, Zhang Yan spun around, his eyes bloodshot. "Shut up! Any more nonsense will be punished by military law!" He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and paced back and forth, each step pounding heavily on the frozen ground. After days of eating cold, dry rations, enduring hunger and cold, and suppressing the restless spirit of the troops, every moment of waiting felt like a dull knife scraping his heart.

Elsewhere, Wei Yan leaned against his horse, repeatedly wiping his black iron knife, the blade reflecting his tense face. The ten thousand cavalrymen were silent, yet suppressing the restlessness that could erupt at any moment. "General, why don't you act now?" the guard whispered. Wei Yan suddenly looked up, staring at the distant city wall, his Adam's apple rolling up and down: "Wait! Li Ru, that old fox, must wait until the safest time." He stroked the lines on the blade and muttered to himself: "Hold on a little longer, hold on a little longer..." The cold wind blew snowflakes against his face, but he was completely unaware, his mind filled with hatred and desire for Yuan's army.

Outside Tongguan, Gao Ming and Du Xiong huddled behind a dead tree, their teeth chattering uncontrollably. Du Xiong cursed under his breath, "This awful weather! If we wait any longer, we'll freeze to death." Gao Ming stared intently at Tongguan, his fists clenched until white. "Shut up! Success or failure depends on this one move. One mistake, and the whole army will be wiped out!" He dared not take his eyes off the distant pass. Every second of waiting felt like a year. Cold sweat mixed with snow trickled down his back, but it was nothing compared to the burning anxiety in his heart.

As the curtain of snow suddenly ripped open a crimson rift as the blazing smoke rose to the sky, Zhang Yan's frozen fingers suddenly clenched their grip on his sword's hilt. Five days spent huddled in the cold cave, gnawing on rations frozen to stone, his fury had boiled into a scalding molten iron. At the signal, his cloudy eyes instantly gleamed. He kicked aside the low table beside him and roared, sending snow cascading down the cave ceiling. "Five days of waiting! I'm almost breaking my teeth!" Like dormant wolves, their lair breached, the twenty thousand Black Mountain troops seized their rusted weapons and bolted through the snow, their breath forming a sinister cloud of mist in the night.

Wei Yan was picking at frozen dried meat with the tip of his knife when his black iron blade suddenly clanged against the stirrup. He looked up at the plume of smoke piercing the snow, a bloody grin forming on his cracked lips. Five days and nights of constant battle, the sweat in his armor had long since frozen to ice, yet now it felt as hot as if he were being roasted over a fire. "Watch out, boys!" He swung his sword to cut the reins, and the black horses reared up with a neigh. "This fire should reach the Yuan army's camp!" Ten thousand Xiliang cavalrymen simultaneously tore at the leather ropes at their throats. Their suppressed roars, mingling with the clatter of horses' hooves, transformed into thunder that shook the earth.

Outside Tongguan, Gao Ming's nails dug deep into Du Xiong's palm. Clad in their disguised Yuan army armor, their backs were already drenched in cold sweat. As the smoke of war pierced the sky, Du Xiong nearly collapsed to the ground, only to be grabbed by Gao Ming's collar: "Pretend!" He stumbled forward, his cries hoarse from five sleepless nights: "Help! The Xiliang army... they're killing like crazy!" His howls, mingled with the wind and snow, concealed the ecstasy of finally having his chance, and the chilling glint of his sword about to be unsheathed.

Gao Ming tumbled and crawled to the foot of Tongguan City, his face stained with blood and snow, and his cries were hoarse with five sleepless nights: "General! Open the gate quickly! The Xiliang army... is chasing us from behind!" The flickering torches on the top of the city wall illuminated the "fleeing" "remnants" behind him, stumbling in all directions, their weapons still stained with icicles.

Guarding General Li Ping leaned forward, frowning as he stared at the crooked Yuan army badge on Gao Ming's chest. "Which battalion are you from? Why is there no flag?" Du Xiong had barely finished his words when he suddenly collapsed beside the trench, muttering, "General Yan...we've been defeated, and the army is gone..." The soup he'd deliberately dyed dark red flowed down the corners of his mouth, leaving hideous marks on the snow.

The tower erupted in chaos. Seeing the "defeated soldiers" growing weaker and weaker, several soldiers pleaded, "Sir, if you don't open the gate, these brothers will freeze to death!" Li Ping hesitated for a moment before finally giving the order. Amid the creaking sound of the drawbridge slowly rising, Gao Ming and Du Xiong exchanged a glance, their palms soaked with cold sweat, their hidden tiger-head short blades.

The gate had barely opened half a meter when Gao Ming suddenly charged. His tiger-headed blade sliced ​​through the throats of two guards as Du Xiong swung a rope around the capstan. Elite soldiers ambushed among the "remnant" rushed in, stabbing the unsuspecting Yuan troops in the heart with their steel blades. Li Ping, realizing he'd been tricked, was about to sound the alarm when Gao Ming, stepping over corpses, lunged at him with his blade against his throat: "Can you help me with the pass?"

In an instant, the sound of killing erupted in Tongguan. The "wounded soldiers" who had been paralyzed rushed forward like hungry tigers, dividing and surrounding the panicked Yuan army.

A cold wind, wrapped in a bloody mist, swept through the arrow tower, the capstan gears still creaking in a dying groan. Ice clung to Gao Ming's tiger-head blade, and every swing numbed his arm. Du Xiong, his cloak soaked in blood, now clutched the neck of the last Yuan soldier, until the light in his pupils was completely extinguished.

In the inner city below the city wall, corpses lay scattered across the gutter, clogging the drains. Warm blood, mixed with slush, flowed over the ankles, forming dark red icicles in the cracks between the bricks and stones. The shouts of killing gradually faded, leaving only the sporadic clash of weapons and the dying sobs of the wounded.

Gao Ming climbed the city wall, stepping on a ground littered with broken halberds and scattered arrows. He reached out and tore down the blood-stained black flag of the Yuan army, unaware of the scratches his frozen fingers had received on the flagpole. The scarlet banner with the word "Liang" slowly rose, its corners rustling in the morning breeze, blowing the dried blood into fine red foam. As the banner fluttered, it heralded the change of ownership of Tongguan once again.