Traveling back in time to Liu Feng, starting with rescuing soldier Guan Yu.

Chapter 116 The Prodigy Deng Ai

Deep in the Jing Mountains, the bushes on both sides of the mountain path are covered with unknown berries, which gleam with a dark purple luster in the morning dew.

Deng Ai led 13,000 militiamen south from the Danshui River Valley, and entered the Jingshan Mountains along the Zhushui River Valley. They had been trekking through these vast mountains for ten days.

The first few days of the march went quite smoothly.

Kou Zun set up several transfer stations along the Zhushui River in advance, which proved effective. At each grain storage point, the soldiers could replenish their rations for three days, and the cooks in the camp could even set up a pot by the stream to cook a hot meal.

The militia marched in groups of ten or five, their ranks orderly and disciplined. Occasionally, one could hear the soldiers humming folk songs from the Shangyong area, their rough melodies echoing through the valleys.

General Deng Ai dispatched all his scouts, reporting every ten li, surveying the terrain along the way and drawing simple maps. He did not ride a horse, but walked with his soldiers, his armor covered in mud and grass clippings, his face thin but showing no signs of fatigue.

Every night when they camped, Deng Ai personally inspected each camp, checking whether the soldiers' straw sandals were worn out and whether their dry rations were fully distributed.

Several platoon leaders neglected the rations of wounded soldiers and were publicly punished with twenty strokes of the military rod. After that, no one in the army dared to withhold a single grain of food.

However, as the team ventured deeper into the Jing Mountains, the grain depots set up along both banks of the Zhu River became increasingly sparse.

Although Kou Zun did his best to raise funds after the order arrived, the grain reserves in Nanxiang County were already limited, and the fifth transfer station along the Zhushui River was the limit.

On the sixth day, Deng Ai led his army to the last grain storage point. This granary was a makeshift structure, consisting of just a few pine sheds, and was filled with the last batch of dried rations and cured meat.

Deng Ai ordered the quartermaster to inventory all the stored grain and distribute it equally among the soldiers. The entire army unloaded their loads in front of the granary and lined up in long queues to receive their grain.

The supply wagons were burned on the spot, and the mules and horses were used to carry the wounded. Several large carts were dismantled by the stream, the planks and shafts were piled together, doused with tung oil, and torches were lit.

Flames shot skyward, pine logs crackled and popped in the flames, and sparks drifted with the wind towards the maple forest on the opposite bank of the stream. The soldiers stood silently by the fire, no one speaking. They all knew that this fire had burned not only their supplies, but their escape route.

From that moment on, the army was completely cut off from its supply lines and could only move forward, not backward.

The terrain began to become treacherous from the seventh day onwards.

The Zhushui River valley gradually narrows, and the mountain walls on both sides get closer and closer, eventually squeezing the stream into a rapid white line.

The plank road hangs precariously on the cliff face, barely secured by rotten wooden stakes and vines, creaking underfoot. Some sections are so narrow that only one person can pass sideways, and the gaps between the wooden planks reveal the valley floor dozens of meters deep; the howling mountain winds can easily make one lose their footing.

The soldiers held their spears horizontally behind their backs, gripped the cliff face with both hands, and moved over step by step.

Deng Ai ordered ropes to be tied at both ends of the plank road, and each soldier would tie the rope around his waist when crossing the plank road to prevent him from falling.

Even so, dangerous situations continue to occur.

As a young soldier was crossing the plank road, the wooden plank beneath his feet suddenly shattered, and he and his armor plummeted towards the valley floor. The rope tied around his waist snapped taut, suspending him in mid-air and swaying him back and forth, while rubble tumbled down from the cliff face.

Several comrades pulled desperately back on the rope, their fingers bleeding from the rough cuts, finally managing to drag the soldier up inch by inch. He slumped onto the plank road, his face ashen, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word. The surrounding soldiers watched him silently; someone patted him on the shoulder, and the column continued forward.

Some sections of the road have no road at all.

The militia could only carve a path through the dense vines and bushes with machetes. The miasma in the mountains was at its thickest at noon, billowing like white fog over the valley floor, carrying the sour stench of rotting leaves and stagnant water.

Several soldiers became dizzy and nauseous as they walked, and vomited incessantly while leaning against a tree trunk.

Deng Ai ordered the entire army to cover their mouths and noses with damp cloths while marching, and to stop and count the number of soldiers every half hour. More and more people fell behind, mostly weak old soldiers and young men who had just joined the army. They were so affected by the miasma that their faces turned pale, their legs went weak, and they collapsed by the roadside, unable to walk any further.

The few mules and horses in the army were laden with wounded soldiers. Their hooves slipped on the gravel slope, and they snorted and refused to move forward. The soldiers leading the horses pulled on the bridles and cursed the animals under their breath.

On the afternoon of the ninth day, the team arrived at a nearly vertical steep slope. This slope was the last natural barrier between Jing Mountain and Wuling Mountain. The slope surface was a whole block of bare rock, smooth as a mirror by years of rain, and barren of any vegetation.

The slope is several tens of feet high, and looking down from the top, one can see lush trees.

The Wuling territory lies ahead!

The vanguard of the militia halted at the foot of the slope. Several captains attempted to flank the enemy, hacking their way through the dense forest with machetes for half an hour. They returned dejected, finding only sheer cliffs on either side, making any path impassable.

The soldiers began to whisper among themselves, their voices echoing from the front to the back of the column. Since crossing the Zhushui River, they had been trekking through the deep mountains for many days, their provisions were mostly depleted, and their strength was nearing its limit.

For days, I had been on tenterhooks on the plank road, struggling through the miasma, and witnessing my companions being swept away by the rapids in the mountain stream. All the suppressed fear and exhaustion finally erupted when I faced this steep slope that seemed like an insurmountable barrier.

A sergeant squatted by the roadside, his hands covering his head, muttering, "We can't go any further, how are we going to get through this—"

Although the surrounding soldiers remained silent, their eyes all revealed the same despair.

Deng Ai walked to the front of the slope and stood with his hands behind his back.

The mountain wind whipped his battle robes in the wind as he looked down at the bottom of the slope, remaining silent for a long time. The entire army was completely silent, and all the light seemed to converge on him.

Then he squatted down and reached out to touch the cold stone wall. The stone surface was damp and slippery, covered with fine moss, making it impossible to climb. A slight misstep could result in a fatal fall.

Deng Ai stood up, looked around, his gaze passing over the tired and desperate faces, finally landing on an ancient pine tree not far away that would take several people to encircle, and suddenly said: "Cut that tree down."

The officers and soldiers around them looked at each other in bewilderment.

Deng Ai walked towards the ancient pine tree, patted the trunk with his palm. The pine scales were rough and prickly to the touch, and the trunk was thick and straight, reaching a height of more than ten zhang.

"Empty out the tree trunk. If you can't walk down, then roll down."

Military orders are absolute.

The soldiers rushed forward, felling the ancient pine tree with machetes and axes, drawing cutting lines on the trunk with charcoal sticks, and then working together to hollow out the inside of the trunk with knives, axes, and charcoal.

It wasn't until the afternoon that they managed to carve the tree trunk into a crude but sturdy cylindrical wooden cabin. The cabin walls were thick, about two fists thick, and the inside was just big enough for one person to curl up in.

After the wooden cabin was completed, Deng Ai went closer to inspect it carefully. He first tapped the cabin wall to confirm that it was thick enough to withstand an impact, and then checked whether any remaining splinters had been cleaned from the inside.

Then Deng Ai removed his armor and helmet, handing them to his personal guards. Several captains stepped forward to stop him: "General! This slope is at least several dozen feet high, and below it is dense forest. What if you crash into a tree trunk—"

Deng Ai calmly tightened the cuffs of his battle robe and replied, "Our army's supplies are running out. Every day we stay here increases the risk of annihilation. Rather than waiting in vain, we should find a way out."

After saying that, he bent down and crawled into the hollowed-out tree trunk. The trunk was narrow, so he could only curl up, hugging his knees tightly, looking like a bean stuffed into a pod.

Two guards worked together to lift the tree trunk to the edge of the slope. Deng Ai's voice came muffledly from inside the trunk: "Push. No one is to follow without my order."

The tree trunk paused for a moment on the edge of the slope, then tumbled and plummeted down. The entire army was in an uproar. The soldiers rushed to the edge of the slope to look down and saw the tree trunk rolling faster and faster down the steep slope, smashing several protruding rocks and sending wood chips flying everywhere.

It bounced high into the air halfway up the hill and then crashed down again, each impact causing the soldiers on the hilltop to gasp in shock.

A moment later, a heavy thud came from the bottom of the slope, and the tree trunk crashed into the dense forest below and came to a stop.

The hilltop was deathly silent.

The mountain wind howled as it swept across the rocky slope, and everyone held their breath. After a long while, a rustling sound suddenly came from the dense forest at the bottom of the slope.

Deng Ai crawled out of the tree trunk, covered in dirt, with a cut on his forehead, blood flowing down his cheek and mixing with the dust to form a dark red mud.

His battle robe was torn in several places, revealing bruised flesh underneath, but Deng Ai stood up straight, looked up, and waved towards the top of the slope.

A cacophony of cheers and cries erupted from the top of the hill. Some people knelt down, some hugged each other, and others kept wiping their eyes with their sleeves.

Several guards immediately threw a thick rope down the hillside, and Deng Ai tied it to a sturdy tree trunk at the bottom. The soldiers slid down the steep slope one by one along the rope.

The captains stood on the slope to maintain order, while the platoon leaders led the way down. By dusk, the entire army of 13,000 men had regrouped in the dense forest at the bottom of the slope.

Deng Ai counted the number of soldiers. Apart from a few dozen who had sustained minor injuries while climbing and falling, there were no casualties. Several soldiers with leg injuries sat under a tree being bandaged by a medic, while the other soldiers lined up in squads and units, awaiting the next marching order.

When the last soldier reached the bottom of the slope safely, Deng Ai had already donned his armor again. He stood on a protruding rock and pointed south: "Keep going. Wuling is not far away."