Taking a deep breath, he resolved that today, he would show these utterly arrogant Yan people that Qian also had sons who dared to march north!
There was no need to observe any longer, nor to make any more elaborate plans. The enemy had too many flaws. This camp was practically a sieve. When faced with a sieve, there’s no need for excessive thought—just tear it apart. For this northern expedition, he had one thousand of his own personal guard cavalry, plus another thousand he had begged his uncles to support him with. Before setting out, his own father had allocated another thousand elite cavalry to him.
With three thousand cavalry, if he couldn’t even overrun this military camp, then he, Zhong Tianlang, might as well find a block of tofu and bash his head against it!
Perhaps the people in this camp never imagined that one day, the Qian State army would dare to march north, deep into their territory, to launch an assault against them.
Zhong Tianlang shook his head and said softly, "Zheng Fan, I originally thought you were someone of consequence. I didn’t expect you to be nothing more than an arrogant barbarian. You’ve truly disappointed me."
According to Yan State military regulations, only the personal guard units of a Zongbing officer could fly their own banners, which were typically surname flags.
Therefore, only the Yan Black Dragon banner flew over Apricot Blossom Fort; there was no "Deng" surname flag.
At the entrance of Apricot Blossom Fort, there was a small wooden sign with "Apricot Blossom Fort" written on it. Months of wind and rain had blurred the characters, and no one had bothered to repaint it.
Since returning earlier today, Deng Ziliang had remained in his main tent and had not emerged.
He wasn’t drinking. Deng Ziliang disliked alcohol, making him an anomaly among military men.
However, just because Deng Ziliang himself didn’t drink didn’t mean he forbade his men from doing so. The Jingnan Army’s discipline was strict, it was true, but these unit commanders weren’t overly constrained by it.
Seething with frustration, Deng Ziliang picked up a book on military strategy and sat reading by the charcoal brazier. Perhaps because they knew their commanding officer had returned in a rage, the soldiers in Apricot Blossom Fort, after receiving their wine rations, deliberately moved a little further away from the main tent to drink. They also didn’t dare to be as boisterous as usual.
There was wine, but the amount allocated to each man wasn’t enough to get them drunk; it was merely a token gesture. Meat, however, they could eat to their heart’s content.
This was a tradition in Apricot Blossom Fort: the day after every victory was a day of celebration for the entire army.
This was the essence of leading troops: treat your soldiers well, and they will be willing to die for you on the battlefield.
He was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the book.
Deng Ziliang tossed the book on military strategy aside and rubbed his temples.
Just then, the flap of the main tent was lifted, and a large man walked in.
"Young Master, is something bothering you?"
To address Deng Ziliang as "Young Master" meant this large man was also from the Deng Family, one of their own.
Deng Ziliang shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood to recount what had happened at the General Mansion earlier that day. However, he did plan to write a letter home tonight to report the matter. The family would have to decide how to respond.
"Give the order: moderate feasting."
"Don’t worry, Young Master. I’ve already made my rounds. These lads know their limits."
Deng Ziliang nodded and reached for the teacup beside him, but he suddenly noticed the water in the cup was rippling.
This was immediately followed by the thunderous sound of galloping hooves!
Deng Ziliang stood up immediately.
Although Zheng Fan didn’t believe in the concept of a lifelong nemesis, Deng Ziliang’s reaction at this moment was identical to Zheng Fan’s when he had been ambushed and asked for directions:
"He... how dare he?!"
Deng Ziliang’s first thought was: It couldn’t really be that reckless fool Zheng Fan, could it?!
The large man lifted the tent flap again, only to see dozens of riders on the eastern side of the camp. They had already thrown grappling hooks that caught onto the palisade and were now accelerating to pull it sideways. Follow current novᴇls on NoveI[F]ire.net
The palisade, not deeply embedded in the earth, was instantly pulled down.
Immediately, the cavalry behind them charged in without slowing down in the slightest!
The military camp was thrown into chaos.
"Young Master, we’re under attack!"
Deng Ziliang, however, had already pushed him aside. Still in his armor, he stepped out directly, bow in hand.
The next moment, he nocked an arrow, drew his bow, and loosed. Ahead, a Qian State cavalryman was struck in the face and tumbled from his horse.
Deng Ziliang felt no joy, instead shouting to the large man beside him, "Relay my order: all units are to break out on their own!"
Deng Ziliang didn’t order a rally. At this stage, it was impossible to gather the troops anyway. In a night raid, once the attackers gained the initiative, the defenders would find it extremely difficult to re-establish formations. It was better to boldly fight their way out individually.
Cavalry warfare wasn’t about holding or losing a single city or piece of land. As long as he could regroup his forces, he could strike back!
Just then, a cavalryman charged out from behind the main tent, his long spear thrusting directly at Deng Ziliang.
Deng Ziliang retreated two steps, dodging the swift strike. Then, he quickly nocked another arrow, drew, and shot the cavalryman in the back.
The arrow, infused with his vital energy, possessed terrifying power and pierced straight through the enemy’s armor. The cavalryman fell from his horse.
Deng Ziliang strode forward quickly and glanced at the armor on the fallen man, his brow furrowing slightly.
This isn’t Yan Army armor...
These are... Qian State men!
These Qian State people... they actually dared to march north? And they even snuck right up to my doorstep?