Great Tang Idyll - Volume 4 Chapter 235

As soon as Wang Juan’s order was given, the three thousand light cavalry dispersed and swept out like the wind.

Of the six thousand men of the eight Tubo battalions used as bait, only the foremost battalion remained unharmed. The other seven battalions all suffered harassment attacks. The light cavalry took the upwind position; after releasing a volley of crossbow bolts, regardless of how the enemy reacted, they spurred their horses and left, returning after a while. Each time, they took the lives of thirty to fifty men.

The seven Tubo battalions were beaten beyond endurance, and at the same time felt suffocated with grievance. They recognized the arrows being fired—those were from their own logistics below the mountain. Their own arrows were killing their own men; the feeling was unbearable.

Each battalion only had seven hundred fifty men. Watching their numbers slowly being worn down, they had no way to respond. The light cavalry truly came and went like the wind. If they tried to run from here back to the main camp, their men would likely be completely gone.

Each battalion sent what little cavalry they had left to report the situation and hoped reinforcements could arrive quickly. By the end, the battalions simply stopped running, forming defensive formations, which was somewhat effective. In each round of attack, fewer men died.

Kemu Kehu soon received the news. Although it pained him to have sent six thousand men to be slaughtered, if he did not do so, and the three thousand Tang cavalry escaped, it would only become more troublesome. Eliminating three thousand was still three thousand eliminated.

After hearing that all seven battalions had been attacked, Kemu Kehu finally breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared that the Tang would endure and not act.

“Order all cavalry to depart and kill. Tell the messengers to inform Sangqiqi to move even faster. This time I am not only targeting those three thousand— even the Tang main force on the mountain must leave a portion behind for me. Hmph! Calculating against those unprepared with those prepared—let me see how much trouble that little girl can stir up.”

The messenger quickly delivered the order. Kemu Kehu put on his armor, preparing to personally meet this girl Wang Juan. Although he felt putting a little girl on such a high pedestal was disgraceful.

The troops departed. 

Kemu Kehu’s forces gathered four thousand light cavalry and rushed forward, intending to strike the Tang once their horses and arrows were depleted.

Kemu Kehu’s force had only five thousand men. The other five thousand had already been dispatched elsewhere—he intended to deal the Tang a heavy blow.

The officer beside Kemu Kehu, serving the role of staff officer, saw that the entire force had been deployed and said with concern: “General, that girl Juanjuan is not ordinary. Should we not coordinate with the other two divisions to jointly encircle? Or send a messenger to ask the two thousand men on the mountain who were reorganized after Tata Neitu’s defeat to cooperate?”

“No need. Do you want all sixty-seven thousand Tubo troops to move at once to catch one little girl and deal with her ten thousand troops? The other two divisions will not move with me—doing so would give me the greatest credit, so why would they agree? The two thousand men on the mountain cannot be used. They have already been frightened out of their wits. They may deliver grain, but nothing more. That little girl doesn’t know the depth of things. Does she really think that circling Tata Neitu a few times makes her invincible? Give her ten years, and she might become a great general—but I will not give her that chance.” Kemu Kehu rejected the suggestion. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered others, but as he reasoned, no one would cooperate—they might even wait to watch him return empty-handed.

The officer beside him stopped speaking. He could only hope the general’s strategy would succeed, though he could not say why—he simply felt something was wrong. If that Juanjuan girl were truly as formidable as rumored, would she not realize that the six thousand were bait?

The Tang light cavalry paid no attention to how others thought. They simply obeyed General Wang’s orders and carried them out with utmost seriousness. Even if it consumed horse strength greatly and arrows in large quantities, they persisted in harassment. Even if each volley killed only ten men, shooting as soon as the enemy entered range and giving them no chance to counterattack.

By the time Kemu Kehu’s four thousand light cavalry arrived, the seven battalions had already lost half their men—two thousand six to seven hundred were gone.

As soon as the four thousand cavalry arrived, a bright eagle cry resounded across the sky. The Tang light cavalry immediately began contracting their formation and united with the squad under Wang Juan and Zhang Xiaobao, then fled north. However, their speed was noticeably slower than before; white vapor continuously sprayed from their horses’ nostrils.

The four thousand cavalry, arriving with purpose, did not care about their own injured men. They spurred their horses in pursuit, readying their bows, waiting only to enter range to shoot.

But this distance was not ordinary. The Tang horses were still running forward, and with the wind against the Tubo, they had to pursue extremely closely.

The Tubo did not have the range. The Tang did. They turned back repeatedly to shoot without even aiming—just fire. This made the Tubo fully experience how agonizing it was to be the pursuer in a light cavalry chase.

After losing more than three hundred cavalrymen, the Tubo finally managed to reach shooting range by relying on their horse strength. Just as they were about to release arrows, numerous ropes suddenly sprang up in the middle of the field, shooting up from underground.

The fleeing Tang cavalry all threw items from their pouches onto the ground—triangular wooden spikes, made while resting in the forest.

Once the first ranks of Tubo horses stepped on those wooden spikes, they could no longer run. Though not as strong as iron spikes, they were not bad. Those caught by ropes around their horses’ legs were flung off or crushed underneath, with no chance to evade.

Half of the Tubo cavalry was taken down instantly. The remaining half could no longer give chase; they had to carefully maneuver their horses step-by-step like navigating a maze.

Then volleys of spears suddenly flew from the forest, accompanied by shouts of killing.

Shuiyun cried excitedly in the sky. It cleverly did not fly down to attempt any ambush, lest it be hit by arrows. It perhaps knew that it had completed a major task—delivering the message that allowed the four thousand here to prepare.

The remaining Tubo cavalrymen knew they were finished. Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan thought the same. They did not turn back to continue attacking, but dismounted to rest, preparing for the next battle.

At this moment, Sangqiqi was leading five thousand light infantry, running desperately. He had received the order to depart early, bypass the main battlefield, and advance from the east toward the villages where the Tang had once hidden, hoping to ambush the Tang when they retreated toward their main force.

He ran until nearly out of breath, but did not dare rest. Speed was essential. If he failed to arrive in time due to laziness, he would not deserve to live.

The eastern location was indeed good—he saw no Tang scouts and found no corpses of his own men killed in this area.

Sangqiqi believed he was about to achieve great merit. Yet he did not know that had he run east instead of north, he would have found the four thousand retreating Tang logistics—among them more than a thousand local civilians. With his five thousand, he could have easily taken the four thousand who had little combat power.

After Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan rested and regained much of their strength, most of the four thousand pursuing cavalry had been dealt with. Only the slowest riders escaped to report back.

For every man lost, they replaced him. They took all usable horses. Of the four thousand horses that had pursued them, only a bit more than seven hundred could still be used. The rest were finished.

Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan cut horse meat, filled the prepared water bladders in a nearby river, and collected many Tubo bows and arrows to distribute to those without.

After finishing their tasks, Sangqiqi’s troops arrived at the village and rested briefly, preparing for a sneak attack.

But Wang Juan did not give him the chance to rest. She led her men toward the village.

When Shuiyun first spotted this group, she and Xiaobao had been terrified—they thought this group was chasing the logistics retreat.

Kemu Kehu, leading his five thousand, moved quickly and reached the location of the eight battalions. Of the eight battalions—six thousand men—only three thousand were still able to fight. Two thousand six hundred had died, and the rest were severely wounded. The losses were devastating.

Kemu Kehu would be lying if he said he did not feel pain. But he thought that if his cavalry destroyed the Tang cavalry and he and Sangqiqi together crushed the remaining Tang, then these losses could be compensated. He believed that once they captured Tang light cavalry, he could interrogate them about the main force’s location.

After gathering the remnants of the eight battalions, Kemu Kehu continued leading them forward. He ordered everyone to run, to move faster, to prevent the Tang main force from sensing danger and fleeing early.

But what he received was not news of victory from the cavalry—it was more than a hundred fleeing survivors.

After questioning them, Kemu Kehu ground his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. 

The Tang main force had appeared, and together with the light cavalry had wiped out his own cavalry battalion. They had used horse-tripping ropes. Was this something prepared long ago, or something specifically planned for his cavalry this time?

Kemu Kehu was now like Tata Neitu before—uncertain. If it were the former, he could immediately lead troops to attack. If it were the latter… should he pursue? It was truly agonizing not to be able to guess the enemy commander’s next move on the battlefield.

“Pursue. No matter what, I must see the Tang main force with my own eyes. I especially want to see what that little girl looks like. I need to understand.” Kemu Kehu made up his mind. 

The troops began running again. After half an hour, he saw the corpses of men and horses, all killed by spears. The blood pooled together, flowed over the hoof-prints, and ran into the eastern river.

The Tubo men felt chills in their hearts at the sight. How ruthless must a nine-year-old girl be? It was clear the men on the ground had been finished off afterward, and the horses as well. Not a single survivor left.

In a wider area, someone had even arranged objects to form marks in the earth, guiding the blood to create characters—Tubo characters.

“Tubo engineered the sabotage of the Yangtze dike, causing the deaths of one thousand six hundred fifty-five civilians of Wangjiang, Shuzhou. Here today I ask you, Tubo—do you still dare?”

Seeing these words, the Tubo generals could not speak. 

They finally understood why the Zhang family had sent such a killing god—it was to avenge the civilians of Wangjiang County in Shuzhou murdered by Tubo spies.

How extremely vengeful. Something that happened so far away, yet they had chased their way into Tubo territory? Vengeance for every slight.

Ruthless—truly ruthless. Now they understood the ferocity of the Zhang and Wang families of Sanshui County. They would remember this name.

Kemu Kehu could no longer describe how he felt. Was it fear? Or rage?

Provocation—blatant provocation. Being questioned from above with the blood of their own men by a nine-year-old girl. This was the will of one person provoking an entire nation. No matter what he thought in his heart, no matter whether he answered “dare” or “not dare,” he would fall into disadvantage. There was no saving face.

“Pursue! I will tear her apart with my own hands! Pursue! Even if we die, I want to see how they intend to flee!” Kemu Kehu’s rage finally overwhelmed his fear. Being pointed at and threatened like this—he was still a general. If he could swallow such humiliation, was he still human?

The seven thousand Tubo soldiers thought the same. If they retreated now, or stopped moving, wouldn’t that be telling a nine-year-old girl they did not dare? If so, they might as well hang themselves. The shame and suffocation were beyond description.

The seven thousand men followed the tracks in a mad chase. 

But when they reached the front, they were stunned.

Sangqiqi’s five thousand men were being circled and shot by the seven thousand cavalry. It looked like more than a thousand had already fallen.

Kemu Kehu finally understood one thing—whether the Tang had prepared the horse-tripping traps long ago or specifically for him.

Half of his bait had been devoured. The four thousand light cavalry were essentially annihilated. The force Sangqiqi was supposed to use for ambush had been discovered and surrounded. This could not have happened by accident. It must have been calculated by the enemy.

At this moment, the surrounding Tang troops suddenly paused. A squad came out of the formation—with two extremely adorable-looking children at its head. When they reached a certain distance, the little girl on the horse shouted in newly learned Tubo language:

“Kemu Kehu, is that right? Today I killed your soldiers to avenge the civilians of Wangjiang. I ask you personally—Tubo, do you still dare or not? Speak. Do you dare or not?”

With a puff, two streams of blood spurted from Kemu Kehu’s nose. His body swayed and fell to the side. His vision went completely black.

When the Tubo soldiers heard these words, their eyes nearly burst open. This was far too humiliating.

If they had as rich a vocabulary as Zhang Xiaobao, they would have certainly screamed “I f** your mother!*” at the top of their lungs and then charged forward to fight.

They did not curse like that, but each shouted in their own language and charged forward as if they did not want their lives.

“Retreat. I don’t believe I can’t wear them down slowly.” When Wang Juan saw them charging, she turned her horse and ran.

The Tubo soldiers did not care whether the enemy was fast or slow. They chased desperately. As a result, without Kemu Kehu’s command, the seven thousand who came later and the remaining two thousand five hundred who had been surrounded and shot earlier while exhausted were together shot to death by the seven thousand cavalry under Wang Juan’s command.

The method was simple: run to the upwind position, then have the cavalry charge. When reaching the area where ordinary bows had killing power, shoot arrows using the wind and inertia, giving the enemy no chance to counterattack.

Without Kemu Kehu’s command, the Tubo simply chased with all their might, intending to keep the Tang army from escaping.

By the time the Tubo chased for more than thirty li, already exhausted and with many killed, Kemu Kehu—who had been supported and settled down—finally woke. 

Seeing the situation before him, he immediately ordered the troops to shrink in, hide inside the village, form a defensive line, and forbid any sortie.

This battle lasted all the way into the night. The Tubo soldiers were reduced to a little more than six thousand. The Tang army’s arrows were used up, and their horses were piled up; only then did they withdraw.

Kemu Kehu entered a villager’s house, his expression vacant. Twenty thousand men had been step-by-step calculated against, slaughtered until only a little more than six thousand remained. Finished—he himself was finished.

He clearly had not been careless and had made arrangements—how had he still been outmaneuvered by a little girl? Was she a reincarnated war god?

On such an adorable and obedient-looking face, from such rosy little lips, how could such infuriating words come out? How could her hands be so vicious?

Not only Kemu Kehu could not understand—those Tubo soldiers who had escaped death would, in their sleep, dream of a smiling little child who personally walked among them with a knife, looking at each brother one by one. 

Each time she chopped one down, she would smile and ask, “Do you dare or not?”

Countless men were frightened awake.

Just when the Tubo thought the night would pass without incident, at the second quarter of the Chou hour, more than ten men ran down from the mountain and finally found Kemu Kehu. They reported to him, who still could not sleep:

The more than two thousand four hundred men reorganized on the mountain had been completely wiped out by a night attack from the Tang main force. His own group had been deliberately spared and were told that the main force was here. They were to bring General Kemu Kehu a message—ask you Tubo once more: do you still dare or not?

Kemu Kehu fainted again. Perhaps because he had experienced it once already, he woke faster this time. The first thing he did upon waking was kill the men who had come down from the mountain.

Unable to sleep from anger, Kemu Kehu patrolled the temporary camp. At the sixth quarter of the Chou hour, the sound of hooves came, and countless fire arrows flew into the village.

A night raid.

The Tubo soldiers had to drag their exhausted bodies up to defend. The enemy killed several dozen, burned a row of houses, and withdrew again.

The Tubo soldiers prepared to sleep again, but at Yin hour the Tang came again—fire arrows in the sky, then another retreat.

Again and again, Wang Juan let her men rest in turns while rotating others to harass.

Kemu Kehu clearly knew this tactic, but had no method to counter it. If he ignored them, once the enemy saw an opportunity, they would bring overwhelming force. He had no choice but to endure the torment, hoping the other two divisions would arrive to reinforce. He had already sent messengers, hoping they would not be intercepted.

Just before dawn, the Tang finally withdrew and did not come again. At the same time, the two divisions sent word at horse-killing speed that if Kemu Kehu could hold on for one more day, they would arrive to reinforce.

Feeling relieved, Kemu Kehu ordered part of the troops to set up an outer perimeter to prevent another Tang sneak attack, while letting the rest sleep.

Yet half an hour later, three thousand Tang soldiers suddenly emerged from within the village itself. Blades rose and fell, slaughtering the Tubo soldiers who had just fallen asleep and were still dazed. At the same time, the Tang forces outside rushed back in, attacking from inside and out.

By full daylight, the attack ended. 

Kemu Kehu was lucky—he escaped on horseback with his three hundred personal guards. The rest became offerings for Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan to honor the dead of Wangjiang.

The two led all Tang forces to build a temporary altar, bowing three times and nine times, praying to the Thousand-Bone Tower far away in Wangjiang of Shuzhou.

Then Wang Juan left behind words and led everyone north toward the Yellow Sands.

When Kemu Kehu waited for the two divisions’ reinforcements and they finally arrived, all they saw were the corpses of his men and a ceremonial site. 

Written in blood was another line: “To the spirits of the people of Wangjiang, I ask you Tubo once more—do you still dare or not?”

Those who saw the words and the scene gave the nine-year-old Wang Juan a name—
Demon Fiend.

When the Demon Fiend grew angry, a thousand li ran red with blood.

They also gathered the two divisions to inform the later troops and pursued in the direction of the blowing yellow sand. This vengeance could not go unanswered.