Chapter Nineteen: Slaying the Marquis of Left Bone
As soon as Qin Cheng entered the Eagle’s Mouth, he turned back to check on the few brothers from his Eighteenth Squad who had been following him all along. As expected, only three remained. But with his keen senses, Qin Cheng suddenly noticed something—Wu Daliang was nowhere to be seen.
Dong Chu quickly explained to him that Wu Daliang had been struck down by an arrow some twenty paces outside the Eagle’s Mouth, his fate uncertain.
“You saw this and yet said nothing?” Qin Cheng seized Dong Chu by the collar, nearly roaring. Wu Daliang had just saved his life on the battlefield, and Qin Cheng already regarded him as a brother bound by life and death. How could he not be furious upon hearing this?
“The Xiongnu were pressing hard, and besides, we were at the critical moment of entering the Eagle’s Mouth. Even if I’d told you, you couldn’t have turned back to save him—otherwise, we all would have died together!” Dong Chu’s voice softened, his confidence clearly shaken.
“Fool!” Qin Cheng cursed, unwilling to waste another word.
“Qin Cheng, this day you have protected the army’s banner and followed me in slaying the enemy, rendering great service. Truly, you are a fine son of Han!” Li Guang, unaware of the quarrel between Qin Cheng and Dong Chu, took the opportunity to praise Qin Cheng; especially in a moment of defeat, commending those who had earned merit could help lift the troops’ spirits.
“General,” Qin Cheng turned and cupped his fists, his voice cold and grave. “I have a request, though it may be unreasonable.”
“Oh? Speak freely,” Li Guang replied.
“One of my squad’s soldiers is trapped outside the Eagle’s Mouth, his fate unknown. I wish to borrow a warhorse to ride out and rescue him.” Qin Cheng’s tone was resolute.
“Let’s go together and survey the situation. If it’s feasible, not only will I lend you a warhorse, I will ride alongside you myself!” Li Guang declared, slapping Qin Cheng heavily on the shoulder.
“Yes, sir!”
Qin Cheng and Li Guang led a group to the rocky outcrop at the Eagle’s Mouth and looked out. Immediately, Qin Cheng spotted Wu Daliang, twenty paces outside the pass.
Wu Daliang had an iron arrow lodged in his back, piercing his armor—likely shot through a joint. But the arrow struck only his left shoulder and did not appear fatal. He was lying on the ground, struggling to move.
A hundred paces behind Wu Daliang, Xiongnu cavalry had gathered. Yet, because the Eagle’s Mouth was exceptionally narrow, blocked by war chariots, and with several hundred Han archers loosing arrows from the nearby heights, the Xiongnu cavalry, having suffered losses, realized they could not break through the constricted pass. Still, unwilling to retreat, they clustered out of bowshot, watching and waiting.
“These treacherous Han! To have chosen such a perilous terrain—despicable!” At the head of the Xiongnu ranks, a leader with a noble bearing gritted his teeth. “Zuogudu Hou, have you any means to break through this line?”
“Your Highness, the pass is too narrow, and the Han have archers hidden in the gorge. I fear we cannot break through quickly,” Zuogudu Hou replied.
Had Li Guang overheard this exchange, he would have been shocked. He had assumed it was Xiongnu raiders from Duoke attacking them from the flank. Little did he expect it was the Left Wise King himself, commanding in person!
Originally stationed to the north, the Left Wise King had now appeared here—moving faster than Li Guang had ever anticipated. Li Guang’s plan to defeat the Xiongnu at Shangdu and then join Li Xi in striking the Left Wise King was now in ruins.
Had he known the Left Wise King’s true identity, all his doubts would have been dispelled. Why did the Xiongnu first send a small detachment to harry the Han? To delay them until the main force of four thousand arrived! And why did the main force abandon their usual tactics and confront Li Guang head-on? They were buying time for the Left Wise King, so they could crush Li Guang together!
The Xiongnu coveted the broad, open ground at Gourd Valley, ideal for cavalry maneuvers.
The Left Wise King’s strategy was a true masterstroke, catching the Han completely off guard and yielding excellent results. Had the Han not fought with desperate valor—especially the two thousand cavalry who refused to retreat—Li Guang’s army would have been annihilated in Gourd Valley.
Defeating Li Guang would avenge the siege of Mayi and set off a chain of events greatly advantageous to the Xiongnu. This, above all, explained why the Xiongnu cavalry were willing to pay any price—and it matched Qin Cheng’s earlier analysis with Le Yi exactly.
“Intolerable!” The Left Wise King thundered. His painstakingly wrought plan was on the verge of success, only to falter at the final moment—how could he not be enraged? “Zuogudu Hou, I don’t care what means you use. Take this pass! My Xiongnu warriors will enter Qiansang City today, no matter what!”
“Yes, Your Highness!” Zuogudu Hou had no choice but to obey.
“Chiliarch!” Zuogudu Hou bellowed over his shoulder, “Bring your men and charge with me! Slay Li Guang and bathe Qiansang City in blood!”
“Yes, sir!”
Just then, as Zuogudu Hou was assembling his cavalry and preparing to charge, a Xiongnu centurion pointed toward the Eagle’s Mouth. “Zuogudu Hou, look!”
Zuogudu Hou turned and his face turned ashen.
The war chariots blocking the pass had been drawn aside, and a lone rider burst forth from the Eagle’s Mouth.
It was Qin Cheng, desperate to save his comrade.
Li Guang, at the urging of his officers, had finally stayed behind.
“Outrageous! To challenge the might of the Xiongnu single-handed—he must be tired of living!” Zuogudu Hou, mistaking Qin Cheng for a Han champion sent to provoke him, was infuriated. Without a thought for the hail of arrows, he spurred his horse forward.
Zuogudu Hou, already seething after being berated by the Left Wise King for failing to block the Han retreat, was not about to let this insult pass. Seeing Qin Cheng, he charged at once.
“Not good! The Xiongnu are charging!” The light infantry captain watching from the heights cried out. “Archers, ready!”
“Hold!” Li Guang commanded. “If you fire now, you’ll hit Qin Cheng!”
“What shall we do?” the captain asked anxiously.
Li Guang, watching Zuogudu Hou thunder toward Qin Cheng, was filled with worry. Yet, seeing the rest of the Xiongnu cavalry still twenty paces back, he relaxed slightly. If Qin Cheng could manage… then all would be well. But could he do it?
All the Han soldiers at the Eagle’s Mouth stared wide-eyed at Qin Cheng as he moved to confront Zuogudu Hou. This squad leader, risking everything to save his comrade, appeared larger than life in their eyes.
Qin Cheng urged his horse forward, racing twenty paces out of the pass, nearly upon Wu Daliang—when a burly Xiongnu came at him, swinging a long saber.
If he were to dismount at once to rescue Wu Daliang, he would surely be cut down by this Xiongnu before he could remount. Qin Cheng understood this at once.
Seeing the group of Xiongnu cavalry trailing behind, Qin Cheng gritted his teeth, raised his saber, and struck his horse’s rump—charging straight at the Xiongnu warrior!
“Whelp! Zuogudu Hou is here—give me your life!” Zuogudu Hou roared, spurring his horse directly at Qin Cheng.
As the distance between the two horses shrank, the ferocity in Qin Cheng’s eyes only deepened. When they were less than twenty paces apart, he suddenly shifted his saber from striking to stabbing, plunging it into his horse with all his might.
The warhorse shrieked in agony, then surged forward in a final, frenzied burst.
Guiding the reins, Qin Cheng drove his horse headlong at Zuogudu Hou’s mount.
Zuogudu Hou realized Qin Cheng’s intent too late—there was no time to dodge. On the battlefield, no one would expect such a reckless maneuver.
It is well known that a cavalryman deprived of his horse is less than an infantryman.
Yet Qin Cheng did exactly that.
Crash!
The two horses collided head-to-head, blood spraying. Zuogudu Hou swayed, but quickly regained his balance—his horsemanship was extraordinary, making him as steady mounted as any Han on foot.
Against any other Han cavalryman, Zuogudu Hou might have prevailed; but this time, he faced Qin Cheng—the man most feared for his utter disregard for life.
At the instant the horses collided, Qin Cheng, already prepared, leaped from his mount, using the tremendous momentum to soar over Zuogudu Hou’s head. Drawing his saber, he twisted in midair and brought it down upon Zuogudu Hou’s skull.
Zuogudu Hou, having just regained his balance, looked up to see a blade descending and hastily raised his own to block.
But Qin Cheng’s attack, fueled by the full force of his charge and his willingness to risk death, easily smashed through the defense. The saber slashed across Zuogudu Hou’s neck in a diagonal arc!
Blood gushed from the wound, and Zuogudu Hou’s unwilling head flew into the air like a ball.
Qin Cheng landed safely, dropping to one knee.
A long exhale.
The Xiongnu cavalry who had followed close behind saw their commander’s body collapse and were seized by terror. They yanked their horses to a halt, hooves pawing the air, barely stopping in time.
They had seen it all: the collision of horses, Qin Cheng’s leap and slash, and their commander’s head sailing away.
The death of a commander strikes terror into the enemy’s heart.
They all knew the prowess of their Zuogudu Hou—yet here he was, slain with a single stroke.
The Xiongnu cavalry fell into confusion, reining in their mounts, at a loss for what to do.
Qin Cheng, spattered with Zuogudu Hou’s blood, slowly stood.
Bathed in gore, blade shining, he stood before the Xiongnu like a demon king.
To them, Qin Cheng was no longer a man, but a fiend—a bloodthirsty monster.
After years of living by the sword, Qin Cheng’s murderous aura erupted without restraint.
He suddenly threw back his head and howled, his voice shaking the heavens.
“Come on!” Qin Cheng pointed his saber at the Xiongnu cavalry, roaring with soul-rending fury.
The warhorses neighed in terror. The Xiongnu, still ten paces away, spun their mounts in panic and fled as if they had seen a ghost.
“Hahaha… Cowards! Do you dare contend with me?” Qin Cheng’s laughter rang after the retreating Xiongnu. The seasoned marauders shuddered with dread—these men, so used to pillage and slaughter, were seized by an overwhelming fear.
They might not fear death, but they could not help but fear fear itself.
Qin Cheng stood tall, saber in hand, the setting sun casting his shadow long across the bloodstained road. Before him, hundreds of Xiongnu cavalry scattered in utter disarray.
A droplet of blood slid from the blade of his saber, falling to the courier road below.