Chapter Ninety-Five: This Battle Cannot Be Fought

“From the very beginning, you intended to make us believe that your force heading south was merely a ragtag group of just over two thousand, split into five small detachments. But don’t you think that the more you act this way, the more you reveal your true intentions?” Qin Cheng gazed at Yi Xue’er, composed and unhurried.

His words were simple, his tone calm, almost to the point of appearing insipid. Yet as Yi Xue’er listened, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“From the outset, you did not hesitate to sacrifice four hundred elite riders as bait, letting us taste victory. Then you surrounded but refrained from attacking Yangzigou and Xiaohuacheng, withdrawing before my main force could arrive. You made no move to retaliate, but instead began raiding nearby villages and towns. Wasn’t all this to make us believe you had only two thousand cavalry, incapable of facing my army head-on and thus forced into harassment? Later, your feigned assault on my camp was meant to show your supposed rage and desire for revenge, wasn’t it? You calculated that my troops would not act rashly, and that the string of provocations would eventually become intolerable, so when you disappeared for nearly ten days, we assumed you’d retreated and pulled our army back. Then you gathered your forces to strike hard at Yangzigou, making us believe, once and for all, that you had only two thousand cavalry, thoroughly enraging all my Han troops and luring us into the trap you’d set long before.

You plotted so meticulously, advancing step by step, sparing no cost and laying down bait. In truth, you nearly achieved your goal—for by the end, nearly every officer and soldier in my ranks felt just as you’d intended: furious and determined to capture you at any cost.”

Qin Cheng’s voice remained even, as if he spoke of the most mundane matter.

Here, he paused deliberately. The Han generals who had previously complained about Qin Cheng, realizing now how accurately he had described the situation, flushed red and lowered their heads in shame—especially Ma Dashan and his like, who felt utterly disgraced and remorseful, unable to lift their heads. At this moment, Qin Cheng’s gaze, whether intentional or not, fell upon them, making Ma Dashan and the others wish they could crawl into a hole and hide.

Seeing their embarrassment, Qin Cheng sneered inwardly. Now do you understand who leads the cavalry? You dared question my orders before!

“It was a clever stratagem. Even if Sun Wu of Ghost Valley were alive today, he could do no better. But unfortunately…” Qin Cheng paused and did not continue.

Yi Xue’er understood his meaning. She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, a wry smile touching her lips. Days of hardship had etched fatigue upon her face, yet her smile carried a touch of desolate grace.

“Unfortunately, you were the one I encountered, wasn’t it? If not for you, Qin Cheng, my plan would never have failed. By now, I’d likely be savoring tea in the governor’s mansion of Qiansang City. What I find most curious is how, with no background or connections, you possess a mind as keen as Sun Wu himself.”

Perhaps because Qin Cheng’s analysis had contained a measure of praise, or because he’d resolved the knot in her heart, Yi Xue’er spoke these words with remarkable calm, even a hint of playful irony.

Hearing such praise from Yi Xue’er, the eyes of Ma Dashan and the others turned to Qin Cheng. Reflecting on his recent deeds—exposing Yi Xue’er’s nearly flawless tactics, leading newly formed light cavalry on a thousand-mile ride through uncharted desert to claim an unprecedented victory—they could not help but think that even Sun Wu reborn could do no better.

With such thoughts, their gazes toward Qin Cheng grew fervent.

Some words, when spoken by an enemy, are far more convincing than when uttered oneself.

“If I said it is simply talent, would you believe me?” Qin Cheng replied with a half-smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Heaven has placed me here for a purpose; Heaven seeks the end of the Xiongnu. Would you believe that?”

At these words, everyone present was stunned. None had expected Qin Cheng to voice such a thing with such ease, as if it were the most natural statement in the world.

All eyes converged upon him.

He remained as casual as ever, showing no discomfort at his bold proclamation.

As for Yi Xue’er, her hand had moved to her sword hilt. She leaned forward slightly, poised as if ready to charge. The Xiongnu cavalry behind her, including the Left Wise Prince, glared at Qin Cheng with undisguised fury, gripping their weapons tightly.

Seeing the Xiongnu’s response, the Han cavalry were not to be outdone. Though they would not draw swords without orders from Qin Cheng or Li Guang, their murderous intent was unmistakable.

A great battle was on the verge of eruption.

Because of one phrase, both sides stood ready for bloodshed. Whether Qin Cheng felt more pride or more concern at this moment was anyone’s guess.

Yet his expression betrayed nothing, his gaze steady on Yi Xue’er.

“Arrogant words will only hasten your death, nothing more,” Yi Xue’er said coldly, her posture unchanged.

She would not be provoked.

“That depends on the skill of my enemies,” Qin Cheng replied, his voice steady.

His hand never touched his sword.

“Are you mocking the Xiongnu?” Yi Xue’er narrowed her eyes, her face dark with menace. A killing aura radiated from her, her grip on her sword halfway through the draw. A mere breath more, and her blade would be unsheathed.

“Anyone who opposes the Han is overreaching. There’s no need for me to mock them; I need only make them realize their folly—or destroy them.” Qin Cheng raised his left hand, casually dusting his thumb against his fingernail, not sparing Yi Xue’er a glance.

Such domineering words, spoken in so mild a tone, were all the more chilling for their certainty.

“You’re courting death!” The shout came not from Yi Xue’er, but from the well-dressed man behind her—the Left Wise Prince. Having restrained himself for so long, he could no longer hold back.

“No one is to move!” Yi Xue’er snapped, her voice icy with anger, yet full of authority.

Her furious outcry seemed to vent all the frustration of her defeat. She was, in that moment, the very embodiment of wrath.

The Xiongnu cavalry froze, silent as the grave.

The Han cavalry looked on in astonishment.

Yi Xue’er fixed Qin Cheng with a cold glare. “Qin Cheng, General Qin! This battle, you have indeed won. But I care nothing for exchanging empty boasts. If you have the courage, let us meet again on the battlefield and prove ourselves in earnest!”

With that, she wheeled her horse around, never glancing back, and spurred away, leaving behind a single word: “Withdraw!”

The five thousand Xiongnu cavalry, following Yi Xue’er’s command, retreated north in good order, covering one another as they went.

Qin Cheng watched them go, saying nothing.

At this, Ma Dashan blurted out, “Shall we give chase?”

Qin Cheng turned his horse, his demeanor turning sharp as a blade. He cast a cold glance at Ma Dashan and said, “Withdraw!”

Meeting Qin Cheng’s eyes, Ma Dashan felt a chill run down his spine, as if he’d fallen into an icy abyss, facing a bottomless chasm. Shivering, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow and thought, What kind of terrifying gaze is this? What could have provoked such a look from Qin Cheng?

...

“Little sister, why did you order the retreat?” the Left Wise Prince asked unhappily, unable to hide his annoyance at being overruled in front of everyone.

Yi Xue’er sneered. “Qin Cheng tried to turn my own tactics against me, provoking us to attack and fall into his trap. Not a chance!”

“Oh?” The Left Wise Prince made a noncommittal sound.

“The Han cavalry in the vanguard were armored head to toe, their weapons sharp, even their horses clad in armor—something we’ve never seen before. The reason Ashina was defeated, I believe, is because of this. Who knows what other tricks the Han might have? If we attack rashly, they’ll be well-prepared, and our losses would be great.”

She sighed and looked to the northern sky.

“This battle is lost. Further struggle is meaningless.”

The Left Wise Prince pondered this, then suddenly asked, “What does it mean, ‘to fight fire with fire’?”

Yi Xue’er was silent.

...

The Xiongnu and Han armies withdrew, one after another. The Han forces did not return to Yangtou Town; Li Guang sent the local commander and his troops back to garrison, while he and Qin Cheng led the main force back to the camp at Qiansang.

By now, dusk was falling.

The battle had ended in an overwhelming victory for the Han of Shanggu. As they rode home, the Han cavalry were in high spirits. With Li Guang’s tacit approval, many soldiers even burst into song.

Today was New Year’s Eve.

Since giving the order to retreat, Qin Cheng had barely spoken, lost in his own thoughts. No one knew what weighed on his mind.

“Qin Lang, we could have charged the Xiongnu lines and, with the strength of our heavy cavalry, won even greater glory,” Li Guang ventured, breaking the silence at last. “Why didn’t we?”

Qin Cheng shook his head solemnly. “This was not a battle we should fight.”

“Why not?” Li Guang asked, curious, expecting some novel military analysis as was often Qin Cheng’s way. But Qin Cheng’s answer left him not only disappointed, but deeply moved, so much so that he was momentarily at a loss for words.

“Because today is New Year’s Eve,” Qin Cheng said quietly, looking up at the sky. “I want to bring as many brothers home safely for the new year as I can.”