My hotel is full of emperors throughout history.

Eighty li north of Yunzhong County.

The Xiongnu camp was hidden among the rolling hills.

Inside the central command tent, Yi Zhixie stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the rough sheepskin map.

Several striking red circles were marked on the map with cinnabar—those were the battlefields he had carefully chosen.

The tent flap was lifted, and several tribal chiefs filed in.

"Great Chanyu," the leader, Hunxie Wang, grinned, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow with mare's milk wine, "everything is arranged. We're just waiting for those iron lumps of the Han people to crawl in."

Yi Zhi turned around, her eyes gleaming with a wolf-like glint.

Tell me about it.

Hunxie Wang walked up to the map and pointed his thick fingers at the red circles.

"As instructed by the Great Chanyu, we dug hundreds of pits on both sides of the valley and covered them with turf. People could walk on them without any problem, but the iron lumps were heavy and collapsed when pressed."

"What's at the bottom of the pit?"

"The place was filled with sharpened wooden stakes and doused with kerosene. Once that iron lump fell in, not only would it be unable to climb out, but a single fire would burn it to scrap metal."

Yi Zhi nodded, a sinister smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Another leader stepped forward to report.

"Great Chanyu, we've piled up over a dozen cartloads of dry hay at the valley entrance, all soaked in oil. As soon as those iron lumps rush in, we'll set the hay ablaze, blocking their retreat and trapping them in the inferno until they're reduced to ashes!"

"good!"

The third leader continued.

"As you instructed, we've positioned our elite archers in ambush along both ridges. Those iron lumps have glowing eyes, so we'll shoot them in the eyes! Blinded, they won't be able to see the path and will naturally fall into the traps!"

"Furthermore, we've prepared several hundred yak herds, with oil-soaked straw bundles tied to their tails. When the time comes, we'll light the straw bundles and drive the herd into the Han army's formation. No matter how powerful those iron lumps are, can they stop a maddened herd of cattle?"

Yi Zhixie's smile grew deeper and deeper.

Finally, he turned to a thin old man—a shaman of the Xiongnu, who was said to be able to communicate with the Eternal Heaven.

"What about over there?"

The old man took out a leather pouch from his pocket, which contained a dark, viscous liquid.

"Great Chanyu, this is black oil extracted from deep underground, even more potent than kerosene. I've already had a trench dug at the narrowest point of the valley and poured this black oil in. Once that iron lump reaches there and ignites the oil, it will burn through the earth!"

Yi Zhixie laughed loudly, looking up at the sky.

Laughter echoed in the tent, like the hooting of an owl.

"Good! Good! Good!"

He said "good" three times and walked outside the tent.

Night had fallen, and campfires burned throughout the camp, illuminating the busy figures—some were checking for traps, some were carrying hay, some were tying bundles of hay to the yak, and some were transporting arrows up the ridge.

Fifty thousand Xiongnu warriors are making final preparations for the upcoming hunt.

Yizhixie took a deep breath. The pungent smell of the grassland night wind mixed with the scent of horse manure and leather. This was a smell he had been familiar with for decades, as familiar as his own breath.

"Liu Che, Liu Ju," he muttered to himself, "Do you think that capturing the Left Wise King will intimidate this Chanyu?"

"Do you think you can roam the grasslands like wildfire just because you have those iron lumps?"

He turned around and looked at the tribal chiefs who had followed him out, his voice suddenly rising.

"Tell me, what are those iron lumps most afraid of?"

The leaders answered in unison:

"Fire! Pit! And—the scimitars of our Xiongnu warriors!"

Yi Zhixie nodded in satisfaction.

"That's right. Fire can burn, pits can trap, and scimitars can cut. No matter how powerful those iron lumps are, they're dead! We, the warriors of the grasslands, are the living!"

He drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Once those lumps of iron fall into the pit and burn to scrap metal, the Han infantry will have no cover! Then our cavalry will charge in from all directions, cutting down those two-legged sheep like vegetables!"

"Isn't that old bastard Liu Che planning to personally lead the army?"

His smile grew increasingly sinister.

"Let him personally lead the army to his heart's content! Let him see with his own eyes how his iron brutes are turned into scrap metal! Let him hear with his own ears how his soldiers scream in agony! And then—"

He slammed the knife into the ground, the blade humming.

"This Chanyu personally cut off his head, made it into a wine bowl, and offered it to the Eternal Heaven!"

"Great Chanyu, you are mighty!"

The leaders shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the night sky.

Some leaders couldn't help but express their concerns.

"But... I heard the Han army used new weapons? New weapons can flatten a small mountain from a distance!"

"And there are also deadly weapons that can kill many people with ease."

Yi Zhixie looked disdainful upon hearing this.

"How long has it been? If they really possessed such a divine weapon, why didn't they use it during the last Northern Expedition?"

"It's obviously just something they've spread to scare us! Han people are inherently cunning; there's no need to believe such mere rumors!"

The leaders, who had initially looked worried, exchanged glances, and their apprehension gradually gave way to an expression of "yes, that makes sense."

Hunxie Wang was the first to react and laughed heartily.

"The Great Chanyu is right! If they really had something capable of flattening a small hill, why wouldn't they have used it during the last Northern Expedition?"

"that is!"

Another leader echoed this.

"Although we suffered losses during Crown Prince Liu Ju's northern expedition, ultimately, it was because those iron lumps charged fast and crashed hard. As for anything capable of leveling mountains, we've never heard of such a thing!"

Yi Zhixie snorted coldly, took out a piece of dried beef from his pocket, slowly tore off a strip, and put it in his mouth to chew.

"You guys are just scared out of your wits by that good-for-nothing Left Wise King."

He swallowed the beef and glanced at everyone.

"The Left Wise King was defeated because he underestimated his enemy, and because our warriors panicked when that iron lump appeared for the first time, something our warriors had never seen before. But that was a coincidence, not a certainty."

He stood up, walked to the fire in the center of the tent, picked up a stick and poked at the burning firewood, sparks flying everywhere.

"The Han people say there's something that can flatten mountains? I, the Chanyu, ask you—which of you has ever seen anything that can flatten mountains?"

The leaders shook their heads.

"Has anyone ever heard of anything in this world that could flatten a small mountain?"

The leaders continued to shake their heads.

Yi Zhixie's cold smile deepened.

"Then that settles it? If you've never seen it or heard of it, then it doesn't exist. The Han people make up these lies just to scare us."

He threw the stick into the fire, stood up, and his eyes were like a wolf's.

"Just a bunch of two-legged sheep!"

"The eagles of the grasslands cannot be intimidated by a few rumors!"

The leaders were intimidated by his imposing presence and stood up, shouting in unison.

"The Great Khan is wise!"

Yi Zhixie nodded in satisfaction.

"You all remember this, Chanyu!"

His voice was deep and powerful.

"The Han people are adept at bluffing. Anything that can flatten a mountain or kill dozens of people in a single breath is all a lie!"

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the leaders, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"I, the Chanyu, have already laid the traps. Pitfalls, oil, mad bulls, black oil—everything is ready. As long as those iron lumps dare to come, I, the Chanyu, will ensure they never return!"

"As for those rumors—"

He sneered, his eyes full of disdain.

"Once our warriors cut off the heads of the Han people, those rumors will naturally fall apart on their own."

"Then you will know—the Han people will always be two-legged sheep. The eagle of the grasslands will always be the eagle of the grasslands!"

Inspired by his imposing presence, the leaders drew their scimitars and shouted in unison.

"The eagle of the grasslands, invincible under heaven!"

"Great Chanyu, you are mighty!"

Yi Zhixie stepped out of the tent and looked south.

"Liu Che," he said softly, the sinister smile still lingering on his lips, "do you know how long I, the Chanyu, have waited for this day?"

"You think you're so tough that I, the Chanyu, am afraid of you?"

"Let me tell you—wolves on the grasslands are never afraid of anything."

"Because wolves can use their brains."

He turned and walked back to the main tent.

Inside the tent, on the map, the red marker representing the Han army pointed directly at the trap he had meticulously set.

Yi Zhi glanced at the red circles and suddenly burst into laughter.

Laughter pierced through the felt tent, drifting in the night breeze and startling the birds roosting in the distant woods.

"Come on, Liu Che."

"I have prepared a trap for you."

"If you insist on leading the army in person, this Chanyu will grant you—"

He paused, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"There is, it comes, but it doesn't return."