Chapter Twenty: The Arsonist and the Slayer

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Pang Juan’s heart suddenly sank—how could the news have spread so quickly?

“Hah? So they’re just a pack of lost dogs.”

Upon hearing this, General Zhao’s pride surged instantly, his face full of contempt.

“Form ranks! Leave none alive! Kill!”

At General Zhao’s command, the Zhao army swiftly deployed, a dense sea of soldiers pressing against the scattered remnants of the Wei forces along the border.

“Kill!”

On the other side, General Zhao swung his long sword; the battle cries of the Zhao troops thundered, overwhelming the Wei army.

The Zhao archers unleashed a volley of arrows in an instant.

The long-standing hatred between Zhao and Wei was no less intense than that between Qin and Wei; naturally, the Zhao soldiers bore even deeper enmity toward the Wei troops.

“General…”

A trembling voice came from a nearby officer beside Pang Juan, his face pale.

“Hmph, mere Zhao men, what are they worth? Brothers, we fear them not!”

Pang Juan snorted coldly, raising his long sword high.

“Kill!”

His words ignited the fighting spirit buried deep within the Wei soldiers' bones; their previous panic vanished entirely.

“Wei warriors, form ranks!” Pang Juan shouted fiercely.

“Yes!”

The Wei army rapidly reorganized, shields raised to withstand the storm of arrows.

Then, with a swift movement of his sword, Pang Juan led the Wei troops forward in a steady, orderly advance to confront the Zhao forces.

For a moment, the battlefield plunged into chaos.

Blades flashed and swords clashed, stirring a blinding storm of metal. The sharp roar of steel tearing flesh and breaking bones was so dense it sent chills down one’s spine.

The Wei army, facing desperate odds, unleashed terrifying combat strength, each soldier fighting with the courage of a lone hero. Despite their numerical advantage, the Zhao troops suffered more than half casualties and could not overcome the Wei forces.

“Demons! They are demons!”

Finally, a Zhao soldier broke, screaming in terror as he dropped his weapon and fled.

Panic spread like a plague.

“Run—!”

One by one, the soldiers broke ranks; the defeat became a rout.

“Pursue them.”

Pang Juan immediately ordered a chase after the fleeing Zhao soldiers.

The Wei army relentlessly pressed the attack; the Zhao troops abandoned their armor and weapons, collapsing into disarray.

Riding the fierce momentum of this desperate charge, the Wei forces pressed on and broke through the cities of Feicheng and Shiqiu in quick succession.

Seeing these victories, Pang Juan finally breathed a sigh of relief—this must be worth the lives of sixty thousand Wei soldiers lost.

(Historically, the Zhao kingdom rose during the reign of King Wuling of Zhao, so in earlier times they were heavily beaten by Wei forces. Particularly during this period, the Zhao army was weak and easily defeated.)

…

Liyang City.

“My lord! A great victory! The Dan River victory!”

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At this moment, during court assembly, Gan Long, clutching a battle report, burst into the main hall, excitement written all over his face.

“Speak quickly.”

Ying Quliang rose swiftly; the heavy weight in his heart finally lifted.

Ying Qian had already withdrawn his troops. Though he had captured Wuguan, only half of the forty thousand old Qin soldiers had returned.

Zhao Zheng’s forces were even fewer… what if—

“Chief Lieutenant, a fire at Heilong Gorge—conservative estimates say sixty thousand Wei soldiers burned to death,” Gan Long said enthusiastically. This was exhilarating news for every old Qin soldier.

“Sixty thousand?!”

Shock rippled through the court and government officials alike; many gasped.

Gan Long continued, “Then the Chief Lieutenant led troops westward and drove away the western barbarians, though the details remain unclear. The main army is now approaching Liyang.”

“Quick, go out to welcome them!”

Ying Quliang was ecstatic, immediately halting the morning court and leading officials out of the city to greet Zhao Zheng’s army.

After about a quarter of an hour, the army’s shadow finally appeared.

Zhao Zheng, Bai Yun, and Meng Yun rode at the front, leading the vanguard.

“Sir, a great victory!”

Ying Quliang personally stepped forward to greet Zhao Zheng.

News that sixty thousand Wei soldiers had perished in Heilong Gorge sent shockwaves through Qin society and government. After this battle, Zhao Zheng’s status in court became unchallengeable.

At the same time, Zhao Zheng earned a new nickname: The Firebrand Butcher.

“Truly worthy of being a Sage of Guigu! I’m convinced,” Gan Long stepped forward, performing a polite salute, though the admiration on his face was clearly feigned.

Purely ceremonial.

Gan Long’s flattering words barely held together.

Zhao Zheng caught a glimpse of the insincerity on his face and teased, “Oh, long time no see, Grand Physician—you look remarkably healthy.”

Gan Long rolled his eyes internally, thinking, “You scoundrel, with you absent from court, no one’s causing me trouble. How could my complexion be poor?!”

“Zhao Zheng, you’ve truly made my life difficult!”

Ying Qian stepped forward, casting an unfriendly glance at Zhao Zheng.

While Zhao Zheng had burned freely at Heilong Gorge, Ying Qian struggled at Wuguan.

All forty thousand elite Qin troops there suffered a casualty ratio of two to one.

No wonder—the Wei army of this era was unmatched, except by Qi and the reformed Qin army.

“This…”

Zhao Zheng’s smile stiffened, feeling somewhat guilty about Ying Qian’s complaints.

“Hahaha, no matter, I haven’t enjoyed a battle this much in a long time,” Ying Qian suddenly burst out laughing, slapping Zhao Zheng heavily on the shoulder with a hand like a fan, nearly staggering him.

“Ah, I miscalculated—I didn’t expect Pang Juan to hold back his troops at Wuguan.”

Zhao Zheng also felt helpless; Wuguan had placed immense pressure on Ying Qian. Without those forty thousand Qin troops, the outcome would have been very different.

“How about the western barbarians?”

Ying Quliang’s joy faded, worry creasing his brow.

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The western barbarians’ frequent raids left him sleepless.

Zhao Zheng’s expression darkened; he shook his head with a sigh.

“We scouted around and only managed to kill a hundred. Beyond that lies the desert; our people are unfamiliar with the terrain. There’s nothing we can do.”

The biggest trouble in eradicating nomadic tribes wasn’t that they were unbeatable—it was that they were impossible to find.

If only they had a living map, it would have been like Kublai Khan personally leading his army to slaughter the Alans and the Lin tribe during the Yuan dynasty.

The western barbarians had always been a grave threat to Qin, with the Yiqu Kingdom the strongest among them.

Ying Quliang asked, “What is your plan regarding the western barbarians, sir?”

Zhao Zheng glanced at the crowd standing long outside the city gates, then said resignedly, “There is a plan, of course… but we should go inside first and discuss.”

They had been standing there so long that a stranger might have thought they had come for an accusation.

Ying Quliang awkwardly chuckled twice, “Sir, please come.”

Inside the Liyang Palace, Zhao Zheng barely sat down before Ying Quliang hurried him back for discussion.

“My lord, even a mule needs a break, doesn’t it?”

Zhao Zheng felt like crying—after days of riding and trembling on horseback, his bones nearly shattered, and yet his lord still wanted him to labor like an ox.

Ying Quliang comforted him, “I have decided to grant you a few days’ leave after this meeting. Your salary will continue as usual.”

“Truly?”

Zhao Zheng’s eyes brightened, his tone softening instantly.

Ying Quliang nodded, “A gentleman’s word is his bond.”

Hearing this, Zhao Zheng spoke, “My lord, you wish to know what comes next? Though the stand at Heilong Gorge appears a great victory, it has already drained the old Qin’s resources. If this continues, Qin will collapse without a fight.”

Ying Quliang sighed, “Indeed. Sir, what do you advise?”

“The western barbarians’ frequent rebellions mean Qin faces internal and external crises. It is a difficult time.”

Zhao Zheng had pondered deeply before speaking slowly, “The only way is to first make peace in the east, then stabilize the border.”

Making peace in the east meant negotiating with the six eastern states; stabilizing the border afterward meant fully liberating the east after peace, so that resources could be freed to deal with the western barbarians.

Only when the borders are secure can there be recovery and strength accumulation.

This plan was later presented by Shang Yang to Ying Quliang.

“That seems the best course for now.”

Ying Quliang considered briefly and agreed it was the only option.

Fighting on two fronts was beyond Qin’s capacity.

What Ying Quliang was unsure of was whether Wei would agree to peace.

Zhao Zheng saw his concern and nodded reassuringly, “Rest assured, lord. Pang Juan has been defeated by us three times in a row, each worse than the last.

“Even if he refuses peace and continues attacking Qin, the Wei king would be displeased. The elite troops lost at Heilong Gorge were all Wei’s finest! Though Wei claims an army of a million armored men, it would take years to reorganize sixty thousand elite soldiers.

“On Wei’s east border, their old enemy Qi watches closely; on the north, Zhao is still licking its wounds and plotting a comeback.

“Besides, Han to the side may not be trustworthy… which of these neighbors truly shares Wei’s heart? If the Wei king insists on fighting us to the death and drags himself down…

“Qi, Zhao, and Han could join forces against Wei. Even with Wu Qi alive, it would be a hopeless endeavor.”