Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The news of Yuan Tan's capture cast a pall over Yecheng. Faced with Xiliang's exorbitant peace terms, Yuan Shao torn between rage and deliberation. Ultimately, the Hebei overlord opted for a temporary compromise, agreeing to spare the lives of his son and his generals in exchange for the entire Zhen family and their wealth. However, compromise did not mean weakness—he immediately ordered Zhang He and Wen Chou to lead 100,000 elite troops to Tongguan, encamping overnight. The imminent arrival of the massive army hung like a sword over Xiliang's head, silently declaring that while Yuan Shao might swallow his anger, his authority as the overlord of Hebei would not be trampled upon. Any slight misstep would result in the wrath of thunder.

Meanwhile, the turmoil quietly put the previously bubbling plot of enthroning Yuan Shao on hold. Yuan Shao knew that with news of his eldest son's capture now widespread, pressing ahead with the enthronement would inevitably invite criticism. The ambitious plans his advisors had whispered about were temporarily shelved. In the Yecheng meeting hall, the once-royal rhetoric of claiming supremacy was replaced by cautious deliberations over the details of peace talks and military deployments. Everyone understood that until Yuan Tan's safe return, Yuan Shao's entire focus would be on this calculated, scheming, and maneuvering "deal."

On the walls of Chang'an, the gilded eaves shone coldly in the snow. Li Ru leaned against the vermilion railing, his fingertips slowly stroking his bone folding fan. He listened to his spies report that Yuan Shao had stationed troops at Tongguan. Suddenly, he threw back his head and burst into laughter, startling the white pigeons under the eaves into a fluttering frenzy. "A hundred thousand troops? That's just Yuan Shao's bluff." He turned and looked toward the dungeon where Yuan Tan was imprisoned, a sinister glint in his eyes, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue. "As long as Yuan Tan is in my control, that old man will be obedient."

In the twelfth lunar month of Chang'an, leaden clouds hung low, and fine snow, shrouded in icy shards, pelted the blue bricks of the city walls. Ma Teng, draped in a dark cloak, his hands clasped tightly against the battlements, his cloudy old eyes fixed on the northern skyline. The cold wind whipped his graying beard, but beneath his armor, he remained motionless, a trance still reminiscent of the fierce general who once dominated Xiliang. Li Ru half-leaned in the shadow of the arrow tower, his bone fan unconsciously tapping against his palm, each gentle sound startling the frozen sparrows perched on the eaves.

Thirty-seven days had passed since Ma Chao arrived to aid Beidi County, and no reports had been received. This was why these two men remained on the city walls in such cold weather. A new map was laid out daily in the meeting hall, and cinnabar-marked arrows were repeatedly traced and erased across the Lingzhou area.

The snowstorm intensified, and Ma Teng suddenly raised his hand to shield his eyes from the snow. On the distant horizon, a speck of crimson pierced the chaos—a military flag! The simultaneous sound of Li Ru and Wei Yan's footsteps broke through the thin ice. When the frost-covered messenger dismounted, the blood-stained wax-sealed military report still warm in his arms, the entire watchtower seemed to freeze. As Ma Teng trembled and tore off the wax seal, Li Ru caught a glimpse of something glinting in the old general's eyes, a glint in his eye—he couldn't tell if it was snow or tears.

In Chang'an in December, snow and wind swept through the Liang Palace, accompanied by the crisp ringing of bronze bells. When the cry of "Battle report!" pierced through the thick red gates, Cai Wenji, sewing winter clothes for Ma Chao, was so startled that her embroidery needle pierced her fingertip, and blood dripped onto the unfinished arrow sleeve. In the parade grounds, the generals threw down their weapons, and the clanking of armor clashed in a continuous rhythm. Even the chefs in the back kitchen, clutching their greasy aprons, huddled in the corners of the corridors, watching.

The copper furnace in the conference hall crackled. Ma Teng's withered fingers tore open the tattered cover, his eyes sweeping across the parchment scroll like lightning. "Good! Good!" An old roar suddenly erupted, shaking the dust from the beams. "The danger to the north has been averted!" He slammed the military report onto the map, sending the obsidian chess piece marking the enemy army flying. "Chao'er beheaded Aguda, King of Youguli, and slaughtered two Wanhu! He captured six Qianfu captains alive! He recovered 50,000 cattle and sheep, and 3,000 war horses!"

Before he had finished speaking, the hall erupted in thunderous cheers. Ma Chao's mother, supporting Ma Yunlu, stumbled forward, her eyes red as she grabbed the military report. Li Ru fluttered his folding fan, a calculating glint in his eyes. Wei Yan excitedly pounded his colleagues' shoulders, the clashing of armor mingling with laughter and insults. Ma Teng gazed at the etched handwriting on the parchment, a flush rising to his aged cheeks. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed heartily: "God bless Xiliang! Pass the order down; all the city shall hang lanterns for three days!" The wind and snow battered the carved window frames, but it couldn't hide the joy and warmth that filled the room.

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The cold wind of December was like a knife, slicing through the vast skyline of Xiliang. Ma Chao stood on the command platform, his black cloak rustling in the snow. His command flag pointed at two scarlet marks on the map: Zhangye and Wuwei, like two wounds so deep they could be seen to the bone.

"Xu Shu, listen to my command!" He threw the first arrow, and the cold iron splashed with icy shards as it hit the ground. "You, Zhang Liao, and Xu Huang will immediately lead 30,000 elite troops to support Zhangye! Pang De can't hold his own alone, so you must join forces with him as soon as possible to wipe out the invading enemy!" Xu Shu knelt on one knee to accept the arrow. Beside him, Zhang Liao stood with his sword in hand, his eyes as sharp as torches. Xu Huang gripped his long axe tightly, and the axe blade reflected a cold light.

Before he finished speaking, the second command arrow shot out: "I will personally lead 50,000 cavalry to attack Wuwei!" Ma Chao's voice was filled with ice, which made the blood of the soldiers in the audience boil. "Kebi Neng personally led the main force of the Xianbei to occupy Wuwei, burning, killing, looting and committing all kinds of atrocities! That is the foundation of our Xiliang and the home of thousands of people!" He suddenly drew out his sword, pointing the blade directly to the north, "This time I must kill Kebi Neng and let the Xianbei know that the land of Xiliang cannot be trampled upon!"

Military orders were as heavy as a mountain, and the sound of horse hooves echoed. Thirty thousand troops rushed towards Zhangye like arrows from a bow. The rising snow mist had barely dissipated, but fifty thousand cavalrymen had already rolled up thousands of piles of snow as they galloped towards Wuwei. Ma Chao's silver armor gleamed in the snow, like a cold sword unsheathed, vowing to cleave the bitter winter and drive the invaders from the land of Xiliang.

Across the northwest, a fierce wind whipped up sand and snow, churning the heavens and earth into chaos. Ma Chao's silver armor was frosted, his spear brittle from the cold, yet he remained pointed steadily in the direction of Wuwei. Fifty thousand cavalrymen crushed the glacier, the snow mist kicked up by their hooves condensing into a shimmering rime behind them, like a winding silver dragon slicing through the snowy plains.

"General! Scouts report that scattered Xianbei soldiers have been spotted outside Wuwei County!" The guards' cries were shredded by the wind. Ma Chao jerked the reins, and his horse reared up, its front hooves kicking up chunks of snow that fell in a flurry. He squinted at the horizon, where thick smoke could be seen rising—another Xianbei raiding the village.

"Pass my orders!" Ma Chao's voice was shrouded in frost. "All troops, accelerate! Attack on the enemy!" The battle flags fluttered, the large banner with the character "马" ripping through the snow. The generals' palms, gripping their weapons, were covered in sweat, a white mist rising from them in the bitter cold. They had seen too many burned villages and witnessed the desperate cries of women and children being abducted. The blood scabs on the Xianbei cavalry's scimitars had long since turned into an undying rage within them.

Captain Wang Hu roared at the top of his lungs, "Kill all these beasts!" His iron spear flashed in the wind, and the cavalry behind him responded in unison. The shouts and cries of killing shook the snow from the pine branches. The wind and snow grew stronger, but it couldn't extinguish the blazing fire in the soldiers' eyes. For these men who grew up on the land of Xiliang, every charge was a defense of their homeland; every wound was a reminder of the blood debt owed to the foreigners. This time, they vowed to drive the invaders out of Xiliang once and for all!

A north wind howled through the valley, whistling a bloody mist. As Ma Chao, with his fifty thousand cavalry, reached Qingshi Valley, he saw from afar thick smoke obscuring the sun from the valley below. The wolf-head battle flag of the Xianbei cavalry loomed among the flames. Just as he was about to charge, he saw a glaring streak of crimson suddenly rise from the rubble. It was a crimson battle flag woven by the people of Wuwei, clutched tightly in the hands of an old man with a broken arm. Atop the flagpole was a half-broken, blood-stained Xianbei scimitar.

"General, look!" the guards exclaimed, their voices trembling with fear. In the valley, the elderly, women, and children, armed with farm tools, clashed with the Xianbei cavalry. A white-haired old woman plunged her spear into the belly of her warhorse, only to be trampled down by its iron hooves. A young man, wielding a sharpened bamboo spear, plunged it into the enemy's throat, only to be struck in the head by a scimitar. Behind them stood a fortress constructed of adobe and thorns, its walls covered with pottery jars and rolling logs, used to defend against foreign enemies. Every brick and stone was soaked with the memory of years of struggle.

Ma Chao's pupils suddenly contracted. He remembered that five years ago, when the military farming system was implemented, it was these people who reclaimed thousands of acres of fertile land in the desert; he remembered that every autumn harvest, the fragrance of new wheat would always waft over the fort. At this moment, these familiar faces were using their flesh and blood to protect this land watered with sweat. "Beat the drum!" His roar tore through the wind and snow, "Men of Xiliang, listen to my order - follow me to crush the bandits and protect my homeland!"

Fifty thousand cavalrymen emerged like silver dragons from the abyss, their hooves crushing the frost and snow. Ma Chao, his silver spear whirling, bore the brunt of the attack as he charged into the Xianbei ranks, blood splattering everywhere he went. When the common people caught sight of the familiar banner emblazoned with the Chinese character "马," hoarse cries pierced the smoke: "The General of the Cavalry has arrived! Kill!" An old man pointed a bloodstained finger at the enemy lines. Women and children picked up swords and continued the fight, joining the rushing Xiliang troops in a surging tide of fury, determined to completely engulf the invaders in a land steeped in loyalty and righteousness.

Horse hooves crushed frozen corpses. Ma Chao's spear sent the last Xianbei soldier flying. Scarlet blood splattered on the silver armor, instantly freezing into ice crystals. As the smoke and dust gradually cleared, the surviving civilians leaned on broken farm tools and gazed at the fluttering banner of the King of Liang. The familiar black-rimmed armor gleamed coldly in the wind and snow. A pottery bowl clanged to the ground, and a trembling finger pointed at the cavalry formation.

"It's the Liang prince's army! The Liang prince has come to rescue us!" hoarse cries pierced the deathly silence. A white-haired old woman slumped on the scorched earth, a swaddled child in her arms. A young man, his face bloodstained, clutched a half-broken spear, his knees slamming heavily on the frozen ground. Amidst the cascading sobs, Ma Chao dismounted, his boots crushing the scattered arrowheads, and strode toward the center of the crowd.

"Is this general sent by the King of Liang to exterminate the alien race?" The old man with the broken arm was hunched over, his stump wrapped in blood-stained linen, and a glimmer of hope ignited in his cloudy eyes. Ma Chao held the old man's trembling elbow firmly with both hands: "Old man, I am Ma Chao."

These words were like a huge rock dropped into a deep pool, and the crowd instantly erupted in overwhelming cries. "King of Liang! You are finally back!" Someone tore open his shirt to reveal his chest, which was wounded by a saber. "These damn Xianbei people, they robbed food, burned houses, and even newborn babies..." He burst into tears before he finished speaking. The old man turned around tremblingly, waving his skinny arms vigorously: "Don't cry! King of Liang has come from afar, and he will definitely avenge us!" His rough palm tightly grasped Ma Chao's hand, and turbid tears fell on the back of his clasped hands. "King of Liang, we Wuwei people have never let you down! We didn't leave a single grain of grain from the military farm for the beasts, and we defended the fort to the last man!"

Ma Chao looked at the wounded but still upright civilians before him, his throat suddenly tightening. He took off his cloak and draped it over the old man's shoulders, his chest heaving beneath his armor. "The blood of my fellow villagers will not be shed in vain! From today on, I will demand the blood debt of the Xianbei be paid with blood!" Behind him, the fifty thousand cavalrymen roared in unison, the sound waves blowing away the remaining snow from the roofs and startling the crows in the distant mountains and forests, causing them to scatter in all directions.