Late Han Dynasty: Did the Yellow Emperor truly descend?

"alright,"

Li Sheng said in a low voice.

"Everyone is here. Liu Wu, take your men up that hill, take control of the high ground, spread out on the flanks, and have the archers find their firing positions."

Liu Wu nodded, waved his hand, and led sixty elite soldiers, crouching low, silently toward the small hill that was about ten feet high.

The hilltop was covered with wild grass and shrubs, enough to hide people. They quickly climbed to the top, spread out in the grass, and pointed their crossbows at the foot of the hill.

Li Sheng led his eighty swordsmen, shieldmen, and spearmen into the dense reeds at the foot of the hill.

The reeds are taller than a person, making them a perfect hiding place.

Li Sheng parted the reeds and led his men deeper into the forest, finding a secluded spot where they could see the ferry crossing but were not easily spotted.

"Right here. Form ranks, everyone crouch down, no one is allowed to show their faces."

Swordsmen and shieldmen led the way, followed by spearmen, the eighty men quickly spreading out in the reeds. Shields were planted diagonally in the mud, spears lay flat on the ground, and everyone was crouching, their figures obscured by the reed stalks. From the outside, it was just a patch of reeds swaying in the wind, nothing else could be seen.

Li Sheng squatted at the front of the formation, gently parting the reeds in front of him with the tip of his knife, and staring at the direction of the ferry crossing through the gaps.

His line of sight intersected with Liu Wu's on the hilltop; one looked down at the ferry crossing from above, while the other peered at the riverbank from the reeds. Once the enemy stepped into the ferry, they would be exposed to fire from both sides simultaneously.

Everything is ready.

The sky gradually brightened.

The east was tinged with the pale light of dawn, followed by a rosy glow. The sun peeked over the horizon, turning the whole world golden.

Li Sheng lay prone behind a large rock, peering north through gaps in the grass.

In the distance, a dark line can be vaguely seen.

The black lines are getting wider and denser.

The enemy did indeed arrive.

His heart pounded nervously, his face expressionless.

"Pass down the order: no one is to move rashly. No one is to fire an arrow without my command."

The messengers around him relayed the message one by one.

The black line is getting closer and closer.

Li Sheng finally saw it clearly.

Leading the way was a group of ragged refugees, emaciated and sallow-faced, their steps faltering. They carried wooden sticks, pitchforks, and machetes, some even empty-handed. Their eyes held a deathly stillness, like a group of walking corpses.

He had seen that look before, back in Siyang Township, from those villagers who couldn't make a living.

Later, he gave them some food to save their lives, and they entrusted their lives to him. Isn't this another kind of "turning beans into soldiers"?

Of course, rather than gaining this "supernatural power," Li Sheng would much rather that the people of the world not suffer...

Li Sheng and his men kept a close eye on the group of "bandits." The group moved in a scattered manner, with some stopping to cough and then being helped by those around them to continue forward. It was more like a migration than a march.

Behind them are the real bandits.

There were about five or six hundred people, much stronger than the refugees ahead. They wore haphazard leather armor, some also clad in iron armor, which gleamed darkly in the morning light. Their weapons were more formal, wielding ring-pommel swords and spears, with archers interspersed among them, quivers hanging from their waists. Several oxcarts could be vaguely seen, piled high with provisions and supplies, and some people were riding horses! Further on, there were even more people, a dark mass, too dense to see clearly.

It's funny, none of Li Sheng's soldiers had horses to ride.

Horses were extremely valuable at that time; a top-quality horse could be worth as much as a luxury sports car in later generations.

Li Sheng narrowed his eyes, his gaze lingering on the horsemen for a moment.

These people are not ordinary bandits.

He carefully examined the various flags and gradually came to a conclusion.

Although this group all used the Yellow Turban banner, they were actually divided into two categories.

Those refugees at the very front were people who couldn't survive the famine and were swept along by the tide. They had no fighting spirit; they were just following the crowd to get a bite to eat. They were cannon fodder, but also scouts. Walking at the front, they trampled the traps set by the government troops, risking their lives to pave a safe path for the bandits behind them.

Those in the middle, wielding weapons and wearing leather or even iron armor, were the real bandits. Most of these were displaced wandering knights, conscripted laborers who had escaped conscription, or outlaws who had previously made a living through violence. Their uprising under the banner of the Yellow Turbans was merely a ploy to plunder, steal grain, money, and women; they had no belief that Heaven was dead.

As the enemy drew ever closer, Li Sheng's heart calmed down.

Despite their large and numerous numbers, in a real fight, only the five or six hundred in the center would be truly capable fighters. The refugees on the outer perimeter would crumble at the first sign of trouble, and once their morale collapsed, they would scatter and flee.

The problem now is that there are just too many of them.

Li Sheng estimated that there were at least seven or eight hundred refugees just leading the way. There were many more behind them, but he couldn't see them clearly. Including the seven or eight hundred people behind them, there were at least two or three thousand people.

On his side, including Liu Wu from Qiuding, there were about a hundred people in total.

Chen Yuan's forces on the south bank numbered nearly two thousand, but they were separated by a river, and it would take time for them to arrive.

During this period, Li Sheng and his team faced an enemy ten times their size.

The reed marshes were eerily quiet.

No one spoke; even breathing was suppressed to a minimum. The eighty men crouched in the reeds, their bodies hunched over, like stones. Some had sweaty palms, and their hands gripping the hilts of their knives trembled slightly, but no one moved.

Liu Wu remained motionless atop the hill.

The scouts were getting closer and closer.

Li Sheng peered through the gaps in the reeds, intently watching their footsteps—one step, two steps, three steps…

If these refugees were to wander into the reeds and discover them, then everything would be over.

But the refugees' exploration was not thorough; they simply walked along the riverbank, never getting closer to the reeds than twenty paces. Li Sheng could clearly see the expressions on their faces: numb, hungry, and bewildered, like walking corpses.

However, some people glanced towards the reed beds.

Everyone's heart skipped a beat.

But the person only glanced at it blankly, then turned away and continued walking.

They didn't find it.

The refugees walked on, heading towards the south bank. They were looking for shallow water there to cross the river and find a way to survive.

Just as they breathed a sigh of relief.

An unexpected change occurred.

The group of real bandits in the middle suddenly stopped.

The bandit leaders at the front whispered among themselves, and one of them turned and shouted to the people behind them.

Then, the bandits on horseback also reined in their horses.

The horse snorted impatiently and circled in place. The rider straightened up, shading his eyes with his hand, and looked towards the reeds.

Li Sheng's heart leaped into his throat.

What did he discover?

In the reed marshes, everyone's breath caught in their throats. The air seemed to have been sucked out, and even the wind had stopped.