Han Ji

When news of Yan Liang's death reached the Hebei camp, Yuan Shao was examining a map in his tent. As the scout knelt and finished speaking, Yuan Shao's hand froze. The bamboo slip slipped from his grasp, struck the table, bounced, and rolled to the ground.

"Dead?" Yuan Shao said.

The scout reported, "He's dead. Guan Yu charged into the central army and beheaded General Yan on the battlefield. His head was taken away. Ten thousand soldiers collapsed, and less than three thousand escaped."

Yuan Shao stood up. His face flushed red, from his neck to his forehead. He took two steps, turned around, and took two more. His boots pounded the ground, each step heavier than the last.

"Wen Chou," Yuan Shao said.

Wen Chou stepped out from the ranks of military officers and knelt on one knee. He was half a head shorter than Yan Liang, but had broader shoulders and a thicker neck. His arms hung down, his fists clenched, and his knuckles cracked.

"Your subordinate is here."

Yuan Shao looked down at him. "Take your cavalry and cross the river tomorrow. Find Guan Yu and kill him."

Wen Chou looked up. His eyes were small, with a lot of white showing, making him appear to be glaring at people. "My lord, is Guan Yu at Baima?"

Yuan Shao said, "The scouts report that he is still at Baima. You take five thousand cavalry, cross the river at Yanjin, and outflank him from the rear."

Ju Shou, standing nearby, said, "My lord, Guan Yu has just won a great victory and his army is at its peak. If General Wen's five thousand cavalry cross the river, and Guan Yu sets an ambush, we will be left isolated and vulnerable once again."

Yuan Shao said, "A lone army venturing deep into enemy territory? Wen Chou's cavalry are all veterans from Ji Province; five thousand cavalry are equivalent to ten thousand infantry. Guan Yu has just finished a battle; his troops are exhausted. How much fighting strength do they have?"

Wen Chou said, "This humble general only needs three days. Within three days, bring back Guan Yu's head."

Yuan Shao said, "Alright. Go and make the preparations."

Wen Chou stood up, turned, and walked out of the tent. His boots pounded heavily on the ground. Once outside, he called his deputy over.

"Go and wake up all the men in the cavalry battalion. Feed the horses, prepare the saddles, and check the bows and arrows. We'll depart at dawn tomorrow."

The lieutenant said, "General, it's still dark at dawn, and we can't see clearly when we cross the river."

Wen Chou said, "It's better if we can't see clearly. We'll cross the river under cover of darkness and reach the other side at dawn, catching them off guard."

February 10th, at the hour of Yin (3-5 AM).

Fog rose over the Yellow River. Wen Chou's five thousand cavalrymen assembled at the Yanjin ferry crossing. Hundreds of small boats were moored along the riverbank, each capable of carrying only five or six people and horses.

Wen Chou ordered the cavalry to dismount and lead their horses across the water to the boat. The river water was bone-chillingly cold, and the horses neighed as soon as they entered the water. The soldiers pulled on the reins to drag them in, and the splashing water froze into ice shards.

Wen Chou stood at the ferry crossing, watching the cavalry being carried to the opposite bank in batches. The fog was thick; the boats disappeared after only a dozen or so steps. The only sound on the river was the splashing of oars.

When Ju Shou arrived at the ferry, Wen Chou was just about to board the boat. Ju Shou rode over on a fast horse, and before the horse had even come to a complete stop, he dismounted.

"General Wen, wait a moment."

Wen Chou turned around. "What is it, Supervisor?"

Ju Shou said, "Our lord has ordered you to cross the river and pursue him, but you must be careful. Guan Yu is no ordinary man. He was able to slay Yan Liang, so he's not afraid of you chasing him. If you pursue too hastily, you might fall into a trap."

Wen Chou said, "The supervising officer is overthinking it. Guan Yu just finished a battle; half his soldiers are wounded, and his horses haven't rested for two days. If I chase him with five thousand cavalry, what can he use to stop him?"

Ju Shou said, "General Wen, you should be very careful. After crossing the river, you should first thoroughly investigate the situation inside the city."

Wen Chou said, "The supervising officer is overthinking it. Don't worry, I will definitely bring back Guan Yu's head."

Ju Shou looked at Wen Chou. Wen Chou's face was covered in stubble, his eyes were wide open, and his lips were tightly closed. Ju Shou knew he couldn't persuade him.

"General Wen, once you reach the south bank, send scouts to gather information before pursuing. Don't blindly charge forward."

Wen Chou said, "I understand."

He turned and walked onto the gangplank, then jumped onto the boat. As the boat left the shore, the oars churned the water, the boat rocked slightly, and it headed into the fog.

They crossed the Yellow River at dawn. The fog dissipated, and the eastern sky was a bluish-gray. Wen Chou's cavalry had all crossed; five thousand men stood in formation, their horses snorting and their necks hunched. The south bank was Yanjin, about a hundred li from Baima.

Wen Chou sent a scout to Baima to investigate. The scout rode off on a fast horse and returned half a day later.

"General, White Horse City is empty."

The scout said, "They're not here. The garrison in the city has also left. They withdrew yesterday evening in a hurry, without even closing the city gates. The flags on the city walls are still there, but there's no one left in the city. The grain in the granaries has also been moved away, and the few remaining bags are scattered on the ground and being gnawed on by wild dogs."

Wen Chou asked, "Which way did they retreat?"

The scout said, "Head south. There are wheel tracks and footprints on the official road; it should be heading towards Guandu."

Wen Chou thought for a moment. "Pursue."

Five thousand cavalrymen pursued southward. The official road was flanked by hills, not high, but with steep slopes covered in shrubs. After an hour's journey, scattered items began to appear on the road. First, an overturned oxcart, its shaft broken, lay askew by the roadside. Then a sack of grain, the burlap sack torn, the grain spilled all over the ground. Next came pots, bowls, clothing, and several tattered suits of armor, scattered in the middle of the road.

Wen Chou reined in his horse. "Stop."

He looked at the things. They were scattered haphazardly, not deliberately arranged, but rather dropped in a hurry. But something still felt off. He looked up at the hillsides on either side. The slopes were quiet, the bushes motionless, and there were no birds.

"Send someone up the hill to take a look," Wen Chou said.

A troop of cavalry dismounted and began climbing the slope. Halfway up, arrows suddenly rained down from above. The entire troop fell, tumbling down the slope. Immediately afterward, the sound of galloping hooves echoed down the slope—not a small swarm, but a large throng. The hooves shook the earth, causing the soil to slide down and the bushes to tremble.

Wen Chou saw a flag with white background and black characters, bearing the character "Zhao".

"Zhao Yun," Wen Chou said.

Zhao Yun's three thousand cavalry charged down from both sides of the hillside. The three thousand men split into two groups, one thousand five hundred on the left and one thousand five hundred on the right, like two sickles cutting towards Wen Chou's army on the official road.

The horse's hooves pounded the slope, sending dirt and gravel tumbling down. Zhao Yun charged ahead, clad in white robes and silver armor, his spear tip pressed low, almost touching the horse's neck.

Wen Chou's cavalry were picking up things from the ground. Some were squatting down to pick up copper kettles, some were tying bolts of cloth to their horses, and some were shoveling grain out of overturned oxcarts.

The formation was scattered, not a single unit remained intact. Someone looked up and saw the cavalry charging down, shouted, and then everyone started running. Running was useless; there were slopes on both sides, and only the official roads in front and behind were passable.

Zhao Yun charged into the crowd. His spear first pierced a cavalryman on horseback. The man was holding a piece of cloth in his hand. When the spear pierced his chest, the cloth fell to the ground and rolled into dust.

Zhao Yun drew his spear, blood trickling down the shaft. He flicked it back, the spear tip slicing across the throat of another man beside him; the man clutched his neck, blood spurting from between his fingers. Then, the spear tip thrust forward, felling a third man.