Chapter 703: Herding Horses in the Yin Mountains

Nuozhen Shui City was located at the northern foot of the Yin Mountains and got its name from being near Nuozhen Shui. Like Hei City, it had originally been a watchtower for the Tang army, but by now it was abandoned and in ruins, serving no purpose. Not far from Nuozhen Shui City lay a mountainous pasture spanning dozens of miles. Due to years of erosion, the mountains were quite flat, allowing cavalry to ride swiftly across the Yin Mountains.

By now, it was gradually getting dark. The night wind howled in the mountains, echoing with eerie cries. On the gentle hills about ten miles away from Nuozhen Shui City, a massive Tang army had appeared. One hundred thousand Tang cavalry had caught up with Shi Siming’s forces. Li Qing’an led the army, staring coldly at the large campsite ten miles away.

Nuozhen Shui divided the campsite into two. To the west was the camp of the Puguo tribe. Under the cold moonlight, various tents could be faintly seen—dense and endless. The lights were sparse and scattered. To the east of Nuozhen Shui lay what was clearly a military camp, with orderly tents and well-arranged lights. Judging by its scale, it must have housed at least one hundred thousand soldiers.

“General, Shi Siming’s camp should be on the far right. In the middle is Puguo Yao’s camp. It’s completely dark now; they must have left. To the left are the thirty thousand soldiers of the Puguo tribe. Their forces are now only fifty thousand, and they lack fortifications or ditches. I suggest attacking Shi Siming’s forces first.”

Lei Wanchun briefly explained the enemy’s deployment. They had learned about the enemy’s forces from captured Turkic scouts. Now, it was one hundred thousand against fifty thousand—the Tang army had a clear advantage. A cruel smirk appeared on Li Qing’an’s lips. In this battle, he intended to turn the Yin Mountains into a graveyard for the Turks.

“Good. Send the caravan to attack Shi Siming’s camp!”

Li Qing’an gave the order. A convoy of seventy wagons carrying salt and tea began to move slowly toward the enemy camp. The wagons were covered with oilcloth, and each was accompanied by two Turkic cavalrymen. There were no drivers; the cavalrymen drove the wagons.

This was indeed a caravan carrying salt and tea, but the wagons, their contents, and the Turkic men accompanying them were no longer part of the original caravan. As the convoy descended the gentle slope, it accelerated. Several miles behind them was the Tang army’s seventy thousand troops—a long black line at least ten miles long, advancing slowly, like a scroll unrolling a magnificent sea of people.

Seventy thousand cavalry, stretching from earth to sky—such a magnificent force seemed capable of flattening even the Yin Mountains. These were seventy thousand cavalry, with another thirty thousand already under Li Sheng’s command, having circled around to the enemy’s rear, allowing the Tang forces to attack from both sides.

Inside Shi Siming’s camp, it remained quiet; most soldiers had fallen asleep. The tents stood one after another, without fences or ditches. On one hand, Shi Siming’s retreat to the north had been disastrous, as he hadn’t been able to take most of his supplies with him. On the other hand, this place was over a thousand miles away from the Tang Dynasty, so no one would have thought the Tang forces would pursue them, let alone Li Qing’an’s army.

What they feared were threats from within. Shi Siming had deployed more than a thousand sentries mainly on the left to guard against possible ambushes by the Puguo forces. On the front, facing the Yin Mountains, there were only a hundred or so sentries.

They received word that the convoy carrying salt and tea had returned. This convoy was crucial for both Shi Siming and the Puguo tribe; otherwise, they wouldn’t have waited here specifically. Their supplies of salt and tea were almost exhausted. Without tea, they could endure, but without salt, they would lose strength, and the long journey would become a severe test for them.

Even Shi Siming came out upon hearing the news. At that time, the salt and tea carts were still several miles away. They had only heard reports from the scouts. In the darkness of night, they could already hear the sound of horse hooves and cart wheels—probably a mile or two away. Although there was some moonlight, the huge shadows of the Yin Mountains made it difficult to see clearly. After a while, a soldier pointed ahead and shouted, “They’re coming!”

Dozens of small black dots appeared about a mile away. Shi Siming was stunned. The convoy should have been in columns, but instead, it formed a long, sparse row. He immediately ordered, “Send someone to investigate!”

A group of cavalry rushed forward. At that moment, the speed of the carts increased, and Shi Siming felt the ground shaking, as if there were an earthquake. “Not good!” he realized that cavalry were launching a night attack. He shouted, “Order the troops to prepare for battle immediately!”

No sooner had he spoken than screams came from afar. The soldiers sent to investigate had been attacked. Soon, dozens of carts caught fire with a loud roar, and bright flames appeared. Shi Siming’s face turned pale with fear. To him, it wasn’t just flames—he saw an endless sea of darkness behind them. The ground trembled, as if thunder rumbled across the grasslands.

He turned his horse and galloped toward the back of the camp. At that moment, chaos also ensued inside the camp. The alarm bells rang loudly everywhere, and even the 30,000 troops of the Puguo tribe were disturbed. Ambushes in the open grasslands were difficult to carry out—cover was key, as the flat terrain offered no concealment.

The soldiers were in complete disarray. They put on their leather armor, grabbed their swords, and ignored their personal belongings as they rushed toward the stables in the west. The camp was a mess of pushing and shoving.

Seventy wagons were already dozens of steps away, with flames shooting into the sky. The warhorses ran wildly forward, their handlers long gone. The 70,000 Tang troops stopped hundreds of steps away. Many instinctively covered their ears, even stuffing cloth over their horses’ ears, waiting for that terrifying moment to arrive.

One wagon exploded first—a deafening blast sent flames soaring and black smoke filling the air. The wagon was shattered to pieces, with wood and debris flying into the sky. Several horses were torn to pieces, and one horse was even launched into the air, its flesh scattering everywhere.

The loud explosion could be heard miles away. All the Turkic soldiers were stunned, standing frozen in the camp, staring at the flames and smoke rising into the sky.

But this was only the beginning of the nightmare. Frightened by the explosions, the other horses became even more panicked. They charged into the camp amidst the raging fire. Hundreds of soldiers dared not stop them and fled in panic. The nightmare escalated as a series of devastating explosions rang out in Shi Siming’s camp. Flames shot high, tents flipped over, and corpses were flung into the air. Everywhere there were gruesome remains, with black smoke covering the camp.

While earlier many soldiers had been stunned, now tens of thousands of soldiers and warhorses were in a frenzy. The warhorses neighed wildly as they ran around the camp, while the soldiers were terrified. Some lay on the ground trembling, while others knelt and desperately prayed to the gods. For the Turks, who had never seen or heard of gunpowder explosions, this was like Thor himself descending upon them.

The entire camp was in chaos. Seventy consecutive explosions not only shattered Shi Siming’s and the Puguo army’s morale but also caused some confusion among the Tang troops. The warhorses were panicked, and the ranks became disordered. But soon, Li Qing’an gave the order to charge. Swinging his sword, he shouted loudly, “Kill!”

“Woo—woo—”

Deep horn blasts rose into the sky, one after another, wave after wave, filling the entire grassland with the sounds of this offensive charge.
One hundred thousand Tang cavalry launched their attack simultaneously—Li Sheng’s forces from the north and Li Qing’an’s forces from the south, encircling the enemy. The hundred thousand cavalry surged like a tidal wave, echoing like a magnificent epic across the grassland: strong horse hooves crushed tents, swords slashed through heads, blood sprayed everywhere, spears pierced chests, lifting the still-breathing Turkic soldiers high into the air. The sound of crossbows rang out as the Tang cavalry calmly retracted their weapons. A Turkic soldier fell to the ground screaming, an arrow embedded in his back.
It was a meat grinder in the Yinshan Mountains—a battlefield where one hundred thousand fierce Tang cavalry slaughtered fifty thousand Turks. The destruction brought by seventy wagons utterly shattered the Turkic people’s will to resist. Whether it was Shi Siming’s army or the Pugu tribe’s forces, they all fell amidst the screams of slaughter. Camps burned, turning even the sky red.
Horses galloped through streams of blood, splashing blood all over their limbs. Shi Siming was terrified. When the first thunderous explosion sounded, he knew the situation was lost—the Tang army had arrived. His only thought was to flee the camp and save his life. He no longer cared about the fate of those twenty thousand soldiers. He still had thirty thousand troops outside. Having left for just one afternoon, he was overjoyed that his decision had led him to a path to survival in this desperate situation.
Shi Siming reacted swiftly. The moment the Tang vanguard entered the camp, he led two hundred bodyguards to the far north of the camp. Before them lay the vast grassland. But his plan backfired—thirty thousand Tang cavalry attacked from behind, cutting off his escape route and any hope of survival.
At that moment, his desire to live was overwhelming. He sent his bodyguards away, as that would draw the Tang army’s attention, and he removed his golden armor, as it would make him stand out too much. He disguised himself as a common soldier, one who seemed to have just woken from sleep, disheveled and without armor.
It worked. Thousands of Tang cavalry chased after his bodyguards, clearly noticing their uniqueness and guessing that Shi Siming was among them.
But Shi Siming hadn’t lost his horse. Without a horse, he couldn’t travel far. He mixed among a group of soldiers fleeing west in panic. Suddenly, he spotted a gap in the Tang army’s defenses—the southwest corner, where no Tang soldiers seemed to have entered. Shi Siming shouted loudly, “Over there! We can escape that way!”

Over a thousand soldiers, like headless flies, saw any gap that might allow them to escape as their last hope. Stirred on by Shi Siming, they rushed toward the gap in the southwest corner. Shi Siming was the only one among them on horseback, standing out sharply. He realized he was too conspicuous, but he couldn’t bear to abandon his horse, so he hesitated as the crowd dragged him forward in their flight.

But after escaping just a few hundred steps, they realized something was wrong. It wasn’t that there were no people here, but rather that the troops on this side were not participating in the attack on the camp. Instead, thousands of troops stood in formation just a few dozen steps away.

At that moment, Shi Siming suddenly remembered something, and he was terrified. An unattacking Tang army formation could only mean one thing: this was the location of the Tang army’s commander-in-chief.

Was it Li Qing’an? That name came to his mind instinctively—the name that had filled him with fear his entire life, the person he feared the most. He felt he had no strength left, his courage gone. It was as if the moment from eight years ago, when they competed in archery at Yang Huahua’s birthday banquet, had returned before his eyes. In the light of the fire, he seemed to see a golden helmet shining. His heart nearly stopped beating as he stared blankly at the distant golden helmet, his mind in chaos, forgetting to flee. Suddenly, he snatched up his bow and arrow, loaded an arrow, and aimed at the distant golden helmet.

It seemed as if it were fate’s arrangement—the southwest corner was indeed where the Tang army’s commander-in-chief, Li Qing’an, was. Li Qing’an and Shi Siming met again. The fire illuminated Shi Siming’s figure, his sparse yellow hair standing out sharply. Li Qing’an also took up his bow and arrow. He recognized Shi Siming at a glance. Sixty steps away, a strong desire to conquer surged through his mind. He drew his bow too, an iron arrow gleaming with a metallic sheen, aimed at that sparsely haired head sixty steps away.

Eight years ago, they had competed in archery, a form known as “literary archery.” He had broken Shi Siming’s will with his final arrow. Today, they once again aimed their bows at each other, as if engaging in another competition. The difference was that this time it was called “martial archery,” and there was only one arrow.

Li Qing’an’s bodyguards finally reacted and rushed forward with shields. At that instant, Li Qing’an shot his iron arrow. Shi Siming’s hands trembled violently, just as they had when he couldn’t shoot his final arrow back then. He couldn’t shoot this arrow either. He felt his hands no longer belonged to him; he was just a bystander, with only the sound of drums ringing in his ears.

At his final moment of hesitation, he saw only a dark shadow passing through his pupils. Immediately afterward, his forehead erupted with severe pain, as if his brain were splitting open. An iron arrow pierced his skull. In his last moments, Shi Siming seemed to hear the final drum stop. He found himself in a magnificent palace where a feast was underway, filled with guests in splendid attire. Li Qingan stood across from him, wearing a triumphant smile, looking just as young as before. He was defeated by Li Qingan once again, and for the last time. Shi Siming fell off his horse with his face turned to the sky, his eyes lifeless. In April of the third year of Qingan’s reign, Shi Siming was killed by Li Qingan’s arrow in Nuozhen Shui City.