Who is it!

Who dares to set an ambush in a narrow valley less than a hundred li from Wan Commandery!

At this moment, the sky was about to brighten yet not bright, the time when people and horses were weary. This sudden change instantly threw everyone into disorder, and many low-ranking soldiers even turned back and scattered.

Watching the rolling logs and rocks tumbling down all around, Tan Rong secretly gnashed his teeth in regret.

These common soldiers could be recruited again, but famine was near, and grain was more precious than gold—he absolutely could not abandon even a single stone’s worth.

“This place is hard to fight back from, retreat at full speed! Guard the rear! Whoever dares flee in battle, kill without mercy!”

Tan Rong made a prompt decision, sending an adjutant straight to the rear to hold the line, while he himself led the vanguard to break out first.

As long as he could get out of the valley, he could return to the city and mobilize the city garrison to counterattack and encircle. Even if these bandits robbed the grain, they would not escape alive.

“Hyah!”

A troop of several hundred galloped madly. Just as the valley mouth came into view, the vanguard suddenly caught an ominous scent drifting in the air.

“…Kerosene—it’s kerosene!”

Tan Rong was instantly struck with horror.

While charging, he suddenly turned his gaze toward the steep part of the valley. His eyes nearly split open.

“Vile wretch!”

In the faint morning light, two groups of dark figures stood in wait.

Among them, the three leading figures—one had fluttering robes, a graceful scholar’s bearing; another, dressed in red, held a heavy bow drawn to the full, the arrowhead blazing fiercely, the bowstring curved like a crescent moon.

And between them stood one man, broad-backed and narrow-waisted, towering like a great mountain at the summit, a red headband at his brow whipping wildly in the rushing wind.

There was nothing in his hands, yet he slowly raised his arm, assuming the posture of drawing bow and nocking arrow.

His chin lifted slightly, his gaze lofty and cold; behind the blade-cut black hair, those dark pupils were deep and bottomless.

Thin lips curved into a faint, indifferent arc.

“Pa!”

His five fingers, that had drawn the invisible bowstring, released.

Beside him, the flaming arrow shot downward in an instant.

A great fire licked the ground upward; at the boundary between night and dawn, a wall of flame suddenly rose at the valley mouth, blocking Tan Rong and the others’ path!

“Ahhhh——!”

“Back! Retreat quickly!!”

The gorge was deep, with only two ways—forward or back. Once the fire started, it spread in an instant. The hundreds of soldiers at the front line were immediately trapped in the sea of flames, with no way out.

Their wailing cries as the fire consumed them mixed with the stench of burning flesh and ash, swirling, echoing through the valley.

Pei Zhaoye stood on the mountain top, silently watching the slaughter he had caused.

“They’re already in complete chaos. Before the fire spreads here—Gu Bing’an, Danzhu, take everyone and seize the grain.”

Danzhu answered straightforwardly.

Gu Bing’an, however, did not move, his brows tightly furrowed:

“Where is the Mountain Lord going?”

“Didn’t you see?”

Pei Zhaoye lowered his eyes and said, “The Wuhuan horses are indeed extraordinary, they can even cross through such a great fire.”

Everyone followed his gaze downward.

Sure enough, Tan Rong and the few remaining generals, each mounted on Wuhuan steeds, were riding close along the rock wall where the flames were weakest. After testing the path, they directly leapt across the fire.

“Mountain Lord, you must not.”

Gu Bing’an pointed toward the north, his expression grave:

“Such a large fire is likely to draw the city’s attention. The main camp isn’t far from here—if they send troops to reinforce, we will not be able to withstand them…”

“I know.”

Pei Zhaoye turned and walked down the mountain.

“That’s why I’ll go alone.”

Gu Bing’an’s eyes slowly widened, struck speechless by his words.

“Mountain Lord! Tan Rong is routed and fleeing—we have already won a great victory. Stop while it’s good, don’t pursue a desperate enemy, Mountain Lord…”

Qiu Er also followed behind to persuade him:

“The Second Chief speaks reason. Even though Tan Rong secretly colluded with Jiacao Canal and caused the stronghold to lose many brothers, our roots weren’t hurt. We can plan slowly later. Why must the Mountain Lord be so eager for quick success?”

How could Pei Zhaoye not understand this reasoning?

Yet his steps down the mountain did not pause in the slightest.

His blood was boiling, the hatred with no place to vent crashing violently within him.

That despair, that fury, that killing intent that wanted to destroy everything—no one knew, no one could comprehend.

Tan Rong guarded the key territory of Wan Commandery. Although nominally just a general, he had several times repelled the Wuhuan troops who harassed the border and had once commanded an army of a hundred thousand.

The world was in turmoil, and Tan Rong could be put to heavy use by Emperor Mingzhao at any time. Pei Zhaoye did not have many chances to kill him.

He could not let him go.

He would repay blood with blood.

“This is an order. No one is to persuade me again. After the grain is secured, in the name of Princess Qinghe, send one hundred fifty thousand to Jiangzhou, and keep another one hundred fifty thousand awaiting my command. If I do not return, Danzhu will take my place.”

“Mountain Lord——!!”

Leaving behind the voices calling after him, Pei Zhaoye mounted his horse and galloped toward the direction where Tan Rong had fled.

As for Tan Rong’s group of a dozen or so men, they had barely escaped the sea of fire alive and were now racing at full speed toward Zhuo City within the borders of Wan Commandery.

Before they could even feel relief for having escaped death, another sound of hoofbeats rose from the dense forest behind.

“…Someone’s chasing us!”

The deputy general shouted.

All the generals were struck with panic, but Tan Rong focused his attention, listening carefully, turning back to look.

“Only one person—not enough to fear. Cao Sheng, stay behind and hold them off!”

“Yes!”

The deputy named Cao Sheng received the order, turned his horse around, and with a kick of his spear, charged toward the pursuing figure.

As they drew closer, he finally saw that it was an extremely young man.

His appearance lay between that of a youth and a grown man, yet his bearing was proud and sharp, his aura aggressive. The muscles beneath his robe bulged with power, as if storing the strength of a thousand catties.

Cao Sheng, a battle-hardened warrior, for some reason felt an inexplicable dread at that moment.

But with the military order upon him, he could not retreat. He gritted his teeth and let out a roar, swinging his blade to meet the enemy.

Chi——

Blood spurted like a fountain, drenching Pei Zhaoye in an instant.

The soldier who had been struck through and sent tumbling under his horse in one blow did not even earn a glance from Pei Zhaoye. His eyes, sharp as an eagle’s, locked upon the figure at the very front.

With one swift movement, Pei Zhaoye leapt and landed on Cao Sheng’s horse.

“General! Cao Sheng’s been cut down! General, the enemy’s no ordinary man!”

Cao Sheng was one of his strongest subordinates; Tan Rong could hardly believe his ears.

That man’s horse had been frail and thin, unable to catch up to them earlier, yet after changing mounts, he now advanced upon them with a terrifying, suffocating pressure.

…Who was it?

Who could it be?

A name was already taking shape in Tan Rong’s mind. He pulled on his reins and turned his horse.

“Kill!”

Blades clashed, sparks of cold light scattered.

Tan Rong held position at a distance—neither far nor near—watching the lone figure surrounded by eleven men, his hatred burning to the extreme.

This forest was only a few dozen li from Zhuo City—he was so close to escape.

Yet this man lingered like a haunting spirit, refusing to let go.

Like a ghost bound to his soul.

“Pei Zhaoye——”

He forced out the two words between his teeth.

“You are Pei Zhaoye, aren’t you?”

Those dark black eyes looked toward him calmly.

Alike.

Truly too alike.

The moment Tan Rong saw those eyes, he thought of his own grandfather.

Men’s looks mostly follow their mothers; this man likely was the same, and did not much resemble the Tan family.

Yet those eyes—cold and filled with killing intent—were extremely similar to those of Tan Rong’s grandfather, Tan Xun’s great-grandfather, Tan Zhuyun.

Even now, when mentioned, Tan Zhuyun remained a name known to all under Great Yong.