Chapter Twenty: A Fierce Battle with Kou Qianzhi

"Orders received!"

Upon hearing Huang Chao's command, Zhu Wen and Meng Kai responded in unison, each leading their respective cavalry units as they roared out from the center of the grand formation. The infantry parted like waves, opening orderly passages for the horsemen to exit, only to close the formation instantly once the cavalry had passed.

Yet, an inescapable weariness clung to their expressions. Unable to break the stalemate and having endured a bitter day of fighting, the soldiers of the rebel army were physically and mentally exhausted from this rearguard action to retreat to their base camp.

The crossbowmen pulled their triggers in unison, unleashing a volley that hissed through the air like a swarm of locusts, forcing the Taining Army cavalry to pull back. Seizing this gap, Meng Kai and Zhu Wen led their riders to charge at the enemy like starving wolves.

The cavalry units had formed columns to exit the main formation, but as they charged, they shifted into a horizontal line. The rhythmic thundering of hooves and the billowing dust obscured the very sky.

The Taining cavalry had clashed with Huang Chao’s forces before and had not appeared particularly formidable. However, with Kou Qianzhi present, the situation was entirely different. Moments after the rebel cavalry burst forth under the cover of their crossbow screen, the Taining riders swarmed back like an angry hive, possessing the momentum of a tidal wave.

"Brothers, follow me into the charge!" Kou Qianzhi let out a thunderous roar, a clap of lightning that made the very grass tremble on the ground.

In the eyes of the Taining cavalry, a brilliant light, sharp as the sun and stars, ignited.

The *Art of War* by Wu Qi states: "On the field of battle, where the dead lie, those who fight to the death shall live, and those who seek to survive shall die!"

As a supreme cavalry commander, Kou Qianzhi possessed such charisma; simply by appearing on the battlefield and charging into the fray, he could drive his men to a state of extreme fervor, their morale soaring like a rainbow piercing the sun, treating life and death as nothing.

Kou Qianzhi drew his iron-backed bow and loosed an arrow, bringing down a rebel rider. The Taining lancers shouted, digging their heels into their stirrups, and charged with their lances leveled. The sound of clashing weapons erupted, and in an instant, several rebels were unhorsed by the Taining spears. The saber and bow cavalry of the Taining forces followed, slaughtering their way through.

Amidst the mounted archers, a young warrior clad in armor as red as fire, with skin fairer than snow, stood out.

*Swish! Swish! Swish!*

He held a repeating crossbow, sweeping it in a fan-like motion and striking down several rebels in quick succession. The heavy bolts pierced armor and even shields, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

"There are plenty who play at horse archery, but I’ve never seen a crossbow cavalryman like this, let alone one using a repeater. It’s truly an eye-opener," Meng Kai remarked.

"That fellow is likely 'Vermilion Bird' Mi Zhicheng of the Star-Cloud Twenty-Eight Riders, known for having the finest crossbow skills in the Northern Frontier," Zhu Wen replied.

"So he's a Northern barbarian brat," Meng Kai laughed. "No wonder he’s so pampered and pretty; his face is even fairer than yours, Junior Brother."

It was well known that after the back-and-forth skirmishing with the Tibetans, the Northern Frontier was filled with various barbarian tribes.

Zhu Wen was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond. He knew his senior brother meant no harm; he was just blunt and outspoken.

Kou Qianzhi blew his horn in rapid, varying rhythms, clearly issuing commands to his cavalry. Under his orders, the entire Taining force moved with the precision of a limb responding to a brain.

Seeing the enemy's surging momentum, Zhu Wen felt a sudden surge of irritation. He gripped his Daxia Longque saber, the blade shimmering with a crimson light under the sun, and lunged toward Kou Qianzhi.

As for why he didn't target the "Azure Dragon" or "Black Tortoise"—who were also melee fighters—Zhu Wen believed that while his martial arts might not yet match those of his senior brother Meng Kai, after being mentored by Huang Chao and Wang Xianzhi, he should be hard to match among his generation. A seasoned veteran like Kou Qianzhi was exactly the target he needed to challenge.

"Well met!"

Kou Qianzhi laughed heartily, hooking the horn back onto his belt. He pulled the reins, and his blade, *Moon in the Well*, swept forward, its radiance blinding.

In that moment, Zhu Wen felt as if a blade aura had detached itself from the weapon, carrying an icy brilliance as it struck toward his face. This was, of course, merely an illusion born of Kou Qianzhi’s overwhelming presence. If one could truly wound people from a distance with blade aura so easily, would they not be no different from the legendary sword immortals?

The horses crossed, the blades clashed, and a monstrous force erupted from Kou Qianzhi’s weapon, shaking Zhu Wen to his core—he truly possessed god-given strength!

As a legendary blade, *Moon in the Well* was inferior to Zhu Wen’s *Daxia Longque*. Yet, upon the first exchange, Zhu Wen realized he was at a disadvantage. It was clear that Kou Qianzhi’s martial foundation was far superior to his own.

The shock of that single strike made Zhu Wen’s blood churn, reminding him of his clash with the grandmaster, "Heavenly Blade" Song Jue.

Though Kou Qianzhi’s martial arts were not on par with Song Jue’s, his strikes were fierce, carrying an indomitable momentum. As a renowned commander, he possessed a natural air of superiority; as Zhu Wen approached, he felt a crushing pressure that reached into his very lungs. The *Daxia Longque* rang out, its sharp sound like a sentient weapon resisting this silent suppression.

Zhu Wen summoned his courage, gave his absolute focus, and spurred his horse toward Kou Qianzhi once more.

The clanging of metal was ceaseless, sparks flying with every collision. Driven by the pride and ferocity inherent in his nature, Zhu Wen fought a desperate battle against the renowned commander. He was rebellious by nature, and even if he were not a match in skill, he refused to let Kou Qianzhi be the protagonist of this battlefield.

Moreover, he carried the heavy burden entrusted to him by Huang Chao: to hold back the Taining cavalry and cover the main army's retreat. How could he falter? How could he yield?

In a narrow pass, the brave shall prevail!

Yet, as Zhu Wen fought with bloodshot eyes, Kou Qianzhi’s war robe fluttered, the golden threads catching the sunlight, his expression remaining utterly composed.

"In success, do not be blindly joyful; in adversity, do not be anxious or discouraged; in peace, do not be extravagant; in danger, do not be fearful. One who has thunder in his chest but a face as calm as a lake can be appointed a Great General."

Such was the bearing of a master general.

The strikes of the *Moon in the Well* grew heavier with each passing moment. Despite his courage, Zhu Wen felt his own inadequacy in the face of the gap in skill. Kou Qianzhi was employing the "Ten Styles of Heaven-Defying," passed down from his ancestor Kou Zhong. Each strike was like a tiger descending the mountain, fast, vicious, and accurate, the killing intent so thick it made breathing difficult.

Zhu Wen was well-read, but he knew little of this blade technique. When Kou Qianzhi reached the tenth style, the intent of *Moon in the Well* suddenly expanded, weaving a net that descended upon him like a prison.

The blade’s light was as cold as ice, yet its momentum as swift as a spark. This strike sealed every avenue for evasion, cutting off all hope of survival. This was not a misjudgment by Zhu Wen, nor was Kou Qianzhi hiding his strength. Rather, the "Ten Styles of Heaven-Defying" required a progressive buildup, suppressing the opponent's movements until the final blade intent locked everything down. It was the family’s signature finishing move!

In an instant, Zhu Wen felt as if Mount Tai were pressing down upon him, a suffocating pressure enveloping him from all sides like a rising flood.

But Kou Qianzhi’s composure only ignited Zhu Wen’s pride, causing him to straighten his posture on horseback and resist with all his might. Deep down, however, he felt a flicker of doubt: could he survive this final blow?

In the depths of his mind, a pure white tiger phantom solidified. It had blood-red eyes and an expression mirroring Zhu Wen’s own.

"Hahaha, what is there to fear? If you have enough courage, then Kou Qianzhi is nothing but a weakling. Remember, fear neither life nor death!"

With the tiger’s laughter, a surge of raw, indomitable spirit flooded Zhu Wen’s limbs, banishing every trace of fear. He and the great commander locked eyes. Kou Qianzhi’s gaze remained calm, the composure of a master.

Yet, unlike other imperial generals, Zhu Wen could not sense hatred or malice toward them, the "rebels." He could only sense the heavy responsibility of a soldier.

"Don't you hurt my Junior Brother!"

Meng Kai’s keen intuition sensed Zhu Wen’s peril and he swung his horse to intervene. But he was over thirty yards away; if Zhu Wen couldn't withstand this strike, Meng Kai would not reach him in time.

The blades clashed again, a snakelike force twisting around, nearly dragging Zhu Wen from his horse. The blade intent felt almost physical, as if it could slice through skin.

With a loud *clang*, Zhu Wen was forced back several paces along with his horse, blood spurting from his nose and mouth. Driven by an instinctive desire to live, he ignored the churning in his chest and the searing pain, spurred his horse, and fled.

He felt a sense of bewilderment. When their eyes had met, he had sensed a profound, melancholic mist in Kou Qianzhi’s gaze—a look entirely inconsistent with the man’s heroic aura.

This strike, which should have been a killing blow, had lacked a certain desperate, "all-or-nothing" resolve at the very last moment. It was because the killing intent wasn't absolute that Zhu Wen had found a sliver of hope in the nick of time, escaping the prison of blade intent at the cost of internal injuries. Otherwise, he would have been slain right there.

But Kou Qianzhi was a stranger; he had no reason to go easy on him. He had spent years on the battlefield; he would never show mercy to an enemy. What, then, was the reason?

Zhu Wen had no time to ponder; his senior brother Meng Kai had already spurred his yellow horse, wielding his heavy axe to sweep across Kou Qianzhi.

"Junior Brother, cover me!" Meng Kai shouted to him. "It’s not your time to fall yet—but watch your injuries."

A warmth spread through Zhu Wen’s heart. Meng Kai was blunt, but his concern for others was always genuine.

The battle was far from over. The Star-Cloud Twenty-Eight Riders gathered like a pack of wolves. Zhu Wen had to join the other cavalry commanders to pin down the enemy. Meng Kai’s lieutenants, Ban Fanlang and Peng Baihu, as well as Zhu Wen’s second brother, Zhu Cun, were all locked in bitter combat.

Zhu Wen wiped the blood from his face, suppressed his pain, and spurred his horse back into the fray.

Meng Kai’s axe was already locked with Kou Qianzhi’s blade.

Zhu Wen’s actions were not blind; Meng Kai, through sheer instinct, had noticed the same thing. Kou Qianzhi was a peerless commander who could drive the Taining Army’s morale to its peak, but this required him to lead from the front. This created a contradiction: no one could fight and command perfectly at the same time. If they pinned down Kou Qianzhi, they could suppress the Taining cavalry’s edge. After all, aside from the Star-Cloud Twenty-Eight, the quality of the Taining troops was not truly exceptional.

Of course, this was not easy. Kou Qianzhi was a master; one mistake and he would be dead. Zhu Wen had just proven that.

However, Meng Kai, known as "The wine in the cup of the Five Lakes and Four Seas, leaning on the *Tai'a* sword on the battlefield," was Huang Chao’s lead disciple. People said he possessed the strength of ten thousand men; with such a spirit, what was there to fear?

His large axe, swinging with the force of a mountain-splitting storm, exerted immense pressure on Kou Qianzhi. The field was a chaotic mess. Several of the Star-Cloud Twenty-Eight Riders, fearing for their commander, tried to break away and attack Meng Kai from behind.

But Meng Kai was undeterred. Wielding his axe in a wide sweep, he relied on his fast horse, long reach, and innate strength to hold them at bay.

"Black Tortoise" Gao Siji spurred his white horse, thrusting his silver spear, but was sent reeling back, man and horse together, by Meng Kai’s thunderous roar.

Fighting for dozens of rounds without a hint of fear, his spirit only grew—he was truly the bravest in the three armies!

Arrows flew toward Meng Kai from every direction, but he swatted them aside with his axe, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. This was the intuition of a top-tier warrior—sensing the flow of energy to predict danger. It was how the greatest warriors survived the deadliest battlefields.

Zhu Wen knew that the axe technique Meng Kai used was the "Thirty-Six Tiangang Axes" passed down from the Duke of Lu, Cheng Yaojin. It was perfectly suited for mounted combat.

His senior brother was not a commander like Kou Qianzhi who could inspire an army, but a natural warrior. Once on horseback, he radiated a terrifying battle intent. Even facing the famous Kou Qianzhi and the lethal Star-Cloud Twenty-Eight Riders, Meng Kai felt no fear; he only grew stronger.

This battle could not be lost. If they collapsed, the enemy cavalry would ride down the rebel infantry, and the entire army would crumble on the open plains. Countless brothers would be buried in the wilderness.

For the sake of their cause, their ideals, and their glory—rather than retreat in defeat, they would die!

Meng Kai’s passion stirred Zhu Wen, who refused to be left behind. The internal injuries from his fight with Kou Qianzhi still burned, but he had no reason to retreat.

This was war. A meat grinder, the reality of purgatory. Only the most tenacious survived. To win, lives became as cheap as grass. Even if they exhausted their last strength, shed their last drop of blood, crawled in the mud, or fought with broken weapons and shattered armor, they had to fight to the last breath.

A surge of emotion washed away Zhu Wen’s pain. Gritting his teeth, he roared, "Those who block me die, those who yield may live!"

Killing intent erupted in his eyes. He felt himself becoming a beast. The tiger in his heart roared, demanding he never give up.

An oncoming Taining rider tried to block Zhu Wen’s *Daxia Longque*, but Zhu Wen smashed his blade aside and decapitated him in one stroke, the man’s head flying into the air!

The spray of blood painted a red curtain before Zhu Wen’s eyes, the thick, metallic scent fueling the beast within. His blade rang out, sharpening his intent. Spurring his horse, he charged back and forth, doing everything in his power to keep the enemy from interfering with Meng Kai.

He felt numb, acting on pure instinct. But in this field of bones, surrounded by blood and death, who was not the same? War was simply a matter of life and death; there was no other choice.

Yet, one thing was certain: if Meng Kai could successfully pin Kou Qianzhi, the substitute commander would never be able to command the Taining cavalry with the same fluid perfection.

And that was the key to the safe retreat of Huang Chao’s army.