Chapter 541: Night Attack on Xingyang

It was a night at the end of summer, with the sky covered in dark purple clouds. No rain fell, and the ground was damp but not muddy. Twenty thousand cavalrymen moved silently, with only the faint clinking of stirrups against sabers occasionally heard. They were not allowed to talk to each other, go to relieve themselves outside the formation, or let their warhorses neigh—greater secrecy in marching meant a greater chance of success.

The distance from Huan Cui Valley to Xingyang County was about thirty li. The Anxi cavalry took a minor route, marching through gentle hills, passing by large fields of rice from time to time. They had to lead their horses over the ridges. In the distance, dark buildings marked the villages. From time to time, village dogs rushed out and barked furiously at them. The Anxi army did not stop in the villages but instead sped up. Lights were lit briefly before being extinguished again. The twenty thousand cavalrymen, like an iron dragon, filled the villagers who peeked at them with fear.

When they were still ten li away from Xingyang County, they entered another hilly area with dense forests, ideal for concealment. At this point, the Anxi cavalry slowly halted their march.

Li Guangbi spurred his horse up a small hill from where he could see the grain stores in Xingyang in the distance. Dozens of huge, dark structures stood on the plain, resembling dozens of giant soldiers lined up in the darkness, ready for action. The grain stores were about three li from the county town, surrounded by tall wooden fences. It was said that there were two thousand troops stationed there, directly under the command of the governor of Luoyang.

Li Guangbi’s gaze shifted west of the grain stores—there lay the target of his mission: Ji Guangchen’s camp. The camp was pitch black, with only two lanterns hanging at the entrance. Three tall watchtowers could be seen. Li Guangbi quickly assessed the situation. The clouds had dissipated, and a bright moon illuminated the land, which was very unfavorable for him. He could see the large camp from seven li away. On the other hand, even if they could use the terrain for cover, his twenty thousand cavalry would still be detected by the watchtowers from three li away. Over a distance of three li, if Ji Guangchen’s troops were well-trained, they could mount a hasty resistance.

Although these troops were from the Guanzhong army and had average combat capabilities, Li Guangbi still couldn’t afford to be careless. At that moment, he saw several dark figures rushing toward the camp. He knew they must be the scouts he had sent out and immediately ordered, “Bring the scouts here.”

A moment later, the scout team was brought before Li Guangbi. They bowed and said, “Saluting, General!”

“Speak! What’s the situation on the enemy side?”

“Reporting to the general, the three of us sneaked fifty paces into the enemy camp and found it unguarded; the enemy had no idea we were there.”
“How many watchtowers are there? And are there any soldiers patrolling near the camp?”
“Reporting to the general, there are six watchtowers in total—one at each of the north and south gates, and one at each corner. As for the patrolling soldiers, we noticed them as well, but they mainly patrol the northern area and rarely come to the south.”
Li Guangbi nodded, his sharp gaze fixed on the three tall watchtowers in the darkness. Under the bright moonlight, the three towers were clearly visible. Just as he had feared, these towers would be crucial to the success or failure of his mission. After a moment of contemplation, he slowly ordered, “Send in the Feiyi Battalion!”
The Feiyi Battalion was also one of the scout battalions. Under Li Guangbi’s command, there were three special military units, totaling 1,500 men: the scouts, the Hutu troops, and the Feiyi Battalion. Among them, the scout battalion had 500 men, the Hutu battalion 800 men, and the Feiyi battalion 200 men.
The scout battalion was mainly responsible for gathering intelligence and scouting the surroundings, covering a wide range of areas. The Hutu and Feiyi battalions were special units. The Hutu battalion was essentially an army of heavy-armed warriors—tall and strong, they relied on heavy armor charges to break through dense enemy formations.
The Feiyi Battalion evolved from the scout battalion and could be considered the elite among scouts. Light as swallows and swift in movement, they were skilled in ambushes and had precise archery skills. They were primarily used for assassinations and surprise attacks. Li Guangbi intended to rely on the Feiyi Battalion to capture the three watchtowers.
As soon as his order was given, a group of about thirty men in black uniforms silently rushed into the darkness and soon disappeared.
……
Ji Guangchen was a very conventional commander. This could be seen from the way he set up his camp—the camp fences, ditches, sentries, drawbridges, and so on, were all perfectly standard. The main camp had six watchtowers, as discovered by the scouts: one at each corner and one at each of the two gates. Each watchtower was four zhang tall, built on massive wooden frames. There were two soldiers per tower, working in three shifts a day, round the clock.
The sentries mainly relied on sight. During the day, their vision could reach up to ten li away; at night, if the moonlight was good, it could reach three li. These watchtowers were the most vital aids for the camp’s defense. Therefore, it wasn’t easy to launch a surprise attack on the camp while the enemy was asleep—unless the weather was unfavorable, with no moonlight or stars, or during heavy rain or snow, otherwise, the ambush would be detected by the sentries first.

Just as the Dao grows by a foot while the demons grow by a foot as well, to deal with the watchtowers, special troops were needed—such as the Fei Yi Battalion sent by Li Guangbi. Thirty men were divided into three groups, each assigned to one watchtower. Ji Guangchen’s main camp was about three li wide from east to west, so the watchtowers were spaced about one li apart. The three Fei Yi squads of the Anxi Army approached the watchtowers from the south, east, and west. If any of these squads were detected, it would trigger an alarm in the camp.

Among the three watchtowers, the one in the middle was the hardest to deal with. Not only did it have two sentries on top, but there were also ten gatekeepers at the entrance. If either of them noticed them, their mission would fail.

Fewer, but better—only five men were sent to deal with the watchtower at the southern gate. These five were the finest members of the Fei Yi Battalion, led by their battalion commander, Zhu Qian, who also came from Anxi’s top scout battalion. His crossbow shots were always accurate; from a hundred paces away, he could almost always kill with a single arrow, his skill nearly matching that of their commander, Li Qingan.

The five Fei Yi soldiers moved slowly toward the camp like ghosts. They were extremely cautious, using every available cover. They rushed through a drainage ditch carved by rainwater, which was about five feet deep and three feet wide, leading straight to the moat outside the camp. It was this moat that allowed the five men to approach the camp quickly. They stopped when about sixty paces away from the camp—going any further would likely result in them being discovered.

Zhu Qian narrowed his eyes to observe the sentries and the soldiers behind the gate. In fact, he had been observing while running. He had noticed something unusual—seemingly, there were no soldiers behind the gate. After watching carefully for a while, he finally figured it out: it wasn’t that there were no ten soldiers, but rather that the gatekeepers were curled up in corners, asleep.

It wasn’t surprising—even their commander hadn’t realized the danger was approaching, let alone these soldiers. But such a thing would never happen in the Anxi Army. If a soldier slept on duty, he would face execution.

Zhu Qian observed for a while longer. He saw two soldiers get up to relieve themselves and then return to sleep quickly. Inside the gate, it was completely quiet; not a single figure was in sight.

Then his gaze shifted to the watchtower. There were two men on it—one seemed asleep, his hand resting on the wooden railing, while the other slumped listlessly against a pillar. Above them was an iron bell that he would ring to sound the alarm in case of danger.

At this moment, Zhu Qian felt somewhat troubled. It was no problem to eliminate one of them from a distance, but the issue was the one who was asleep—what if he were awakened? After pondering for a while, a bold idea came to him. He whispered to one of his highly skilled archers, “Can you shoot through his throat from fifty paces away?” The archer nodded. “Good, you shoot first; I’ll take care of the second one.” The two picked up their crossbows. Their arrows were specially designed—small and portable, yet extremely powerful, capable of firing a five-inch-long iron arrow 250 paces away. These arrows were also unique, only half the length of regular arrows, with bleeding grooves at the tip filled with a deadly poison from India. Just a tiny amount of this white powder could be fatal upon entering the body. Almost simultaneously, a glimmer of light appeared on both sides, indicating that both teams had succeeded. Only the watchtower at the south gate remained. The two aimed their arrows at the soldiers on the tower. With a soft click, a poisoned arrow shot like lightning at the sentinel, who happened to yawn and hadn’t reacted in time. The arrow pierced his throat, and he clutched it in pain, unable to shout. He flailed his hands before slowly collapsing. Meanwhile, Zhu Qian’s arrow remained motionless; he stood like a statue, squinting at the exposed hand. His two companions silently rushed forward. If the sleeping sentinel hadn’t awakened, they would have climbed the tower to kill him. As expected, the sleeping sentinel panicked and stood up, reaching for a hammer. In that instant, Zhu Qian’s arrow was fired. The sentinel, in a state of panic, dropped the hammer several times. Just as he managed to grab it again, a poisoned arrow struck, piercing his left neck. He dropped the hammer, covered his neck, uttered a few choked cries, and collapsed on the wooden platform. At that moment, two winged soldiers leaped over the moat—more agile than monkeys—they quickly climbed the tower and took the place of the two dead soldiers, becoming the new sentinels.

It worked. Zhu Qian took out another arrow from his leather pouch; this time he used a bow, nocked the arrow, and hid in the ditch. The other two soldiers surrounded him with black cloth. With a soft “click,” a flame appeared in his hand, lighting the fuse, which then began to burn with a hissing sound. Zhu Qian drew his bow and shot into the sky—a bright streak of fire crossed the horizon silently, like a meteor streaking across the beautiful night sky.

Li Guangbi had been watching the situation at the main camp. He saw a bright light cross the sky, a signal of success. A faint smile appeared on Li Guangbi’s lips. He immediately turned around and ordered, “Set off!”

The warhorses had thick cotton cloth wrapped around their hooves. Twenty thousand cavalry drew their swords and charged with their spears, like a mighty torrent filled with murderous intent, rushing toward the main camp miles away.