Chapter 27: Who Shall Face Death

The musicians certainly knew how to play drums; they frequently performed for military formations and were no strangers to the rhythm of an advance. They carried small, light hand drums and waist drums typically used for dance and ceremony. Their thin skins made them ill-suited for the battlefield, yet these professionals collaborated, producing a heavy, resonant sound that mimicked the thunder of war drums.

"Thump... thump-thump... thump-thump-thump..."

The rhythm grew faster and more precise. It was the fifth watch of the night, and in the profound silence of the hour, the small drums sounded deafening.

"That’s it! Keep the rhythm! Keep the doors shut!" Liu Bei nodded, then slammed his elbow into the already dilapidated wooden window on the side of the house, bursting out into the night.

"Kill the bandits!"

Cries of battle erupted from a distance. They were not enemies, but the group of rough outlaws under Liu Bei’s command; they had heard the drums. However, while they shouted and clamored, they would never truly charge. They were not soldiers, nor had they ever trained in military maneuvers. Though they understood the concept of advancing to the beat of a drum, they lacked the discipline to charge upon hearing it. Only the battle-hardened, formally trained in military formation, responded with such instinct.

Liu Bei was gambling. He was betting that those raiding the camp were disciplined, elite troops. After all, a night raid at the fifth watch that silenced the sentries, moved with cautious precision, and fired with such accuracy upon hearing a sound—this was no ragtag militia or group of green recruits.

Liu Bei had already reached the back of the house, where he kept his horses. Gongsun Zan’s twenty white horses, along with the pack horses, were stabled there. Liu Bei quickly slashed the tethering ropes with his sword, releasing the herd. He grabbed a piece of broken wooden plank from the stable to use as a shield and swung himself onto the lead horse.

Horses naturally follow a leader. Without saddles or bridles, the herd would instinctively tail the lead. The lead horse happened to be the one Liu Bei had intended for Gongsun Zan—a mount that had once belonged to Cao Cao. Even among the many horses acquired since, that one remained the undisputed king. It belonged to Liu Bei, not Gongsun Zan, and it was jet-black. Liu Bei had initially contributed it as war funds, and since Gongsun Zan had promised the horse to whoever claimed the "first merit"—and Liu Bei had indeed routed the main force of Tanshihuai and personally beheaded seven centurions—fate had truly tied him to this beast.

Lacking a saddle and stirrups, Liu Bei had to grip the horse tightly, holding the makeshift shield in one hand and his sword in the other, steering entirely with his legs.

He possessed no real combat power in this state, yet he spurred the horse forward, making a point to circle the house first. Dozens of horses, freed from their tethers, followed the lead horse, and soon the thundering of hooves filled the air.

Inside, the war drums never ceased. With the sound of the galloping herd, the footsteps of the enemy could no longer be heard. Several enemies were creeping closer, bows in hand. They had been only ten paces from the musicians' house, but upon hearing the drum-backed charge, they hesitated, their movements becoming slow and cautious.

When Liu Bei circled out from behind the house on horseback, the enemies fired almost simultaneously before turning to flee, their reaction speed astonishing. "Cavalry! There’s cavalry!" they shouted as they retreated.

The arrows were fired in haste but were remarkably accurate, most aimed directly at Liu Bei’s face. Fortunately, he was prepared. The wooden board blocked the arrows, though one grazed his arm, leaving a shallow wound. He felt no pain.

The enemies were close enough that Liu Bei could clearly see their attire: uniform, light-brown tunics. Though they lacked armor or ribbons, their dress was identical. They were county soldiers—the elite among them. New recruits wore bright red, which faded to this light brown with wear. These were veterans. No wonder they were so cautious.

The archers did not scatter blindly but moved quickly toward the other side, likely to regroup. Most of the enemy remained near the empty houses in the camp. The shouts of Liu Bei’s outlaws were coming from that direction, though they remained hidden, using the houses as cover. They were successfully drawing the attention of the majority of the enemy.

"Form up! There's cavalry!" the archers shouted.

The enemy appeared to be consolidating, dark shadows merging in the mist. A small unit conducting a night raid that, upon hearing drums and seeing cavalry, did not panic but instead pulled back in an orderly fashion—this was certainly no amateur outfit.

However, their stealthy approach and cautious search of the camp betrayed their own insecurity. Since they were nervous, Liu Bei decided to bluff. The sound of dozens of horses running, combined with the steady beat of the drums, created the impression of a full cavalry assault. The more elite the unit, the more they would overthink this; only the ignorant are truly fearless.

Liu Bei circled again, but he did not charge directly at them. He kept the horses in a wide arc. He did not want the enemy to see that there were no riders behind him; distance was essential to maintain the illusion.

The enemy gathered, seemingly preparing to form a line against the cavalry. Liu Bei circled to a position sixty or seventy paces to their flank, raised his sword, and roared at the top of his lungs:

"Liu Xuande of Zhuo Commandery is here! Who dares to face death?!"

Yet, even as he shouted, his legs tightened, forcing his horse to slow down...

This was a performance intended only for the enemy's ears. The distance was perfect—close enough to see silhouettes in the mist, but too far to discern the truth. It mirrored the tactics used by the Xianbei cavalry against the convicted soldiers—circling to the flank, attempting an envelopment.

"Withdraw!"

No one came to face him. The enemy ordered a retreat. They did not scatter, but backed away slowly, firing a volley of arrows to suppress him. At this distance, in the mist, the arrows were meant only to stop the cavalry from accelerating, not to kill.

As they retreated, Liu Bei advanced. He raised his sword and roared again: "Come and face death!"

Then, with a gentle nudge, he crept forward. The enemy began to retreat with renewed haste.