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

Three thousand barbarian soldiers suddenly launched an attack.

The red scarves on their arms gleamed brightly in the firelight as they slashed at the still-stunned gatekeepers on either side of the camp gate. Before the gatekeepers could react, they were cut down and screams erupted.

Xi Zhen led a troop of barbarian soldiers straight at the crossbow watchtower on the camp wall, charging up the steps. The crossbowmen on the watchtower frantically drew their bows, arrows flying wildly in the darkness. One arrow grazed Xi Zhen's earlobe, leaving a bloody mark.

Xi Zhen didn't care at all. She rushed up the watchtower in three steps, cut the crossbowman down with a single stroke, then turned around, raised the crossbow, and pulled the trigger at the Wu soldiers who were gathering in the camp.

Ding Fengze led the main force to rush towards the various tents in the camp. Each strike of his ring-pommel sword was accompanied by a muffled roar. With one strike, he cut the ropes of the tent, and the tent cloth collapsed, covering the Wu soldiers inside. His personal guards then rushed forward and attacked with a flurry of blows.

Torches were thrown one after another at the granary and stable; the dry wood and hay ignited instantly, and the raging flames illuminated half the night sky.

The figures of the Yi soldiers were particularly conspicuous in the firelight. They were originally mountain hunters, and they could climb over the camp as if walking on flat ground. Many Wu soldiers had just woken up from their sleep and had not even touched their weapons when they were shot through the throat by poisoned crossbows.

Following the slogans instructed by Xi Zhen beforehand, the barbarian soldiers shouted in unison: "Sun Jiao is dead! Those who surrender will be spared! Sun Jiao is dead! Those who surrender will be spared!"

The roar was like a tidal wave, rolling like thunder across the camp, completely overwhelming the Wu soldiers from their dual chaos of sleep and panic.

Sun Yi parried a barbarian soldier's short spear with his sword from the camp wall. Looking down, he saw that the camp was already engulfed in flames. The granary and armory were on fire at the same time, and the firelight illuminated the figures of barbarian soldiers with red scarves tied around their arms everywhere.

He finally realized that the situation was hopeless and shouted, "Retreat! Retreat to the south!" He slid down the wooden ladder inside the camp wall and led dozens of his personal guards in an attempt to break out from the south.

But outside the south gate, Liu Feng had already led the Wancheng camp to arrive. His steed, the Jade Lion, gleamed like a white lightning bolt in the firelight. Liu Feng, spear in hand, charged first into the fleeing Wu soldiers. His spear tip flashed, thrusting left and right, each strike bringing down a Wu soldier.

The veterans of Wancheng Camp pressed forward like an iron wall behind him, advancing with swords and shields, blocking Sun Yi's breakout troops inside the camp gate.

Guan Ping led the Fengzi Battalion to break in from the east, while Kou Wei led the Danshui troops to encircle them from the west. The three forces converged in the camp, compressing the remaining Wu soldiers into the open space in the center of the camp.

Wu Bing formed a back-to-back formation to resist. The elite Jie Fan Army refused to surrender even in dire straits, but their formation had broken and their strength was exhausted.

Sun Yi led his remaining troops in a desperate resistance, but Ding Feng attacked from the north, slicing Sun Yi's longsword in half with a single stroke and kicking him to the ground. His guards swarmed in and bound him hand and foot. With their commander captured, the rest of the troops lost all will to fight, abandoning their weapons and kneeling on the ground, raising their swords above their heads. Some, still attempting to resist in the darkness, were tripped by their own men who did not wear red scarves on their arms, and never rose again.

The battle ended completely within half an hour.

As dawn broke, the remaining fires in the camp had been extinguished. A few wisps of smoke rose from the charred ruins of the granary, appearing particularly forlorn in the morning light. The prisoners squatted in a dark mass outside the camp gate, their black armor stained with mud and blood.

Liu Feng rode his horse through the camp.

The road was littered with fallen corpses and charred tent remains. The air was thick with the mingled smells of burning wood and blood, and wisps of smoke still rose from the reeds along the stream. The veterans of Wancheng Camp were cleaning up the battlefield, gathering the captured weapons, and carrying the wounded to the medics for treatment.

Kou Wei was counting the number of surrendered soldiers, while Guan Ping led a team to search all parts of the camp to prevent any from escaping.

As Liu Feng rode past the drill ground, his gaze suddenly stopped—more than three thousand barbarian soldiers were arrayed in formation. They wore captured Jiefan army armor, carried hundred-refined steel swords, had crossbows on their backs, and shields stood at their feet.

Although their formation was still somewhat uneven, every soldier stood ramrod straight. These barbarian soldiers had fought guerrilla warfare in the mountains with Xi Zhen for half a month, and then fought two tough battles with Liu Feng. They were no longer the ragged refugee militia they once were.

The red scarves from last night were still tied around their arms, fluttering slightly in the morning breeze like dancing flames.

Liu Feng dismounted and walked to the high platform in the center of the drill ground. More than three thousand pairs of eyes turned to him. The rising sun cast his long shadow on the rammed earth of the drill ground.

"Last night's battle," Liu Feng began, his voice echoing across the training ground, "you captured the Jie Fan army's camp and annihilated the main force of the Wu army on the northern slopes of Jing Mountain. General Xi said you were barbarian soldiers—I say you are not. From this day forward, you are the regular army of my Great Han."

The drill ground was completely silent. Several barbarian soldiers who understood Chinese began to translate in hushed tones to their companions.

Liu Feng took a newly made flag from his personal guard. The flag was dark brown and embroidered with four large characters—"Breaking Through the Flying Army."

The characters are in Ma Liang's handwriting, neat and powerful.

"This banner bears your name: the Flying Army of Breaking the North. Your battlefield is not on the plains, nor on the waterways, but in every mountain, every valley, and every stream of Yidu. You have grown up in the mountains and forests since childhood, traversing mountains and valleys as if walking on flat ground, skilled in short weapons, and capable of firing poisoned crossbows. These are skills that others cannot learn. From this day forward, I will make sure that Lu Xun and his troops, as soon as they set foot in the mountains of Yidu, will feel as if they are sitting on pins and needles, unable to move an inch."

He paused, then looked around the room.

"An army capable of fighting cannot be without its own officers, and even more so, it cannot be without those who lead from the front, braving mountains of knives and seas of fire. I give you three days. Within these three days, form squads of ten, and each of you should elect the man who killed the most enemies and was the bravest in last night's battle to serve as your squad leader or platoon leader. Whoever has the most enemy blood on their blade will command the loyalty of their brothers. Select yourselves and report to General Xi, and I will then appoint him to his military rank."

The barbarian soldiers on the drill ground didn't react at first, but after their companions who understood Chinese translated, the crowd erupted in chaos.

A young barbarian soldier, his face flushed, raised his arm high, pointing to the still-bleeding knife wound on his leg. More barbarian soldiers began to shove each other, some shouting names, others patting their comrades on the shoulder and laughing. Liu Feng watched this scene with a smile, not urging them on. When the noise subsided slightly, he raised his voice again, drowning out the commotion on the training ground.

"I ask you again, in last night's battle, who was the most valiant?"

The three thousand-plus barbarian soldiers suddenly fell silent for a moment.

Then, someone shouted, "Ding Feng!"

Then more and more voices joined in, some in Mandarin, some in local dialects, but they were all calling out the same name.

"Ding Feng!"

"Ding Feng!"

"Ding Feng!"

A wave of sound surged across the training ground as the barbarian soldiers struck their shields with the backs of their swords and slammed their spear shafts into the ground.

These soldiers, fresh from a hard-fought battle, expressed their respect for the brave in the most primal way.

Ding Feng stood at the edge of the training ground, still wearing Sun Jiao's cracked bright armor, and was sharpening his ring-pommel sword, which had three nicks, with a small piece of whetstone. Hearing the crowd call his name, he looked up, paused for a moment, then tucked the whetstone into his robes and strode onto the high platform.

He stopped in front of Liu Feng, clasped his hands above his head, and put away his usual carefree and playful manner, his expression becoming solemn.

"My life was saved by Deputy Commander Liu from the ravines of Jing Mountain." His voice was not loud, but it suppressed the clamor of the entire scene. "From now on, the one leading the charge in the Breaking Shuo Flying Army will be me."

Liu Feng nodded, his gaze sweeping over the three thousand barbarian soldiers, and said loudly.

"From this day forward, Ding Feng is appointed as the Deputy Commander of the Po Shuo Flying Army, serving as General Xi Zhen's deputy and assisting General Xi in commanding operations. The captured Jie Fan Army armor and equipment will be prioritized for the Po Shuo Flying Army."

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over every face on the training ground, and his voice suddenly rose: "Your mission is not to charge into battle head-on, but to contact the various Yi people in the mountains of Yidu, harass the Wu army's supply lines, and contain Lu Xun. The Poshuo Flying Army—is a sharp dagger planted deep in the heart of Yidu. With you here, the Wu soldiers will not dare to sleep soundly!"

A deafening roar erupted across the drill ground. The shouts, a mixture of Han Chinese and the local dialects of the Yi people, though indistinct, swept across the entire drill ground like a torrent.

In the afternoon, Ma Liang spread out a map in the makeshift military tent. The map marked the mountains and rivers of Yidu Prefecture one by one, with Yishui, Jingshan, Linju, and Zigui all clearly identifiable.

Pointing to the map, Liu Feng instructed Xi Zhen and Ding Feng: "Lu Xun is currently stationed in Yidu. Although he has many troops, Yidu County covers an area of ​​several hundred li, from the Three Gorges in the west to Linju in the east, from Jingshan in the north to Yishui in the south. He cannot defend it all. The mission of the Poshuo Flying Army is not to confront him head-on—you should break into smaller units, contact the Yi people in the various caves within Yidu County who have not yet surrendered, and specifically target his grain transport teams, messengers, and outer outposts. Keep Lu Xun's attention firmly within Yidu, and he will not be able to spare any resources to interfere in Wuling."

Xi Zhen clasped his hands in agreement, then hesitated for a moment: "Young General, I have something to say, but I'm not sure if I should. Wuling is still more than two hundred li away from here, a mountain road. I would like to lead the Poshuo Flying Army as the vanguard!"

"No need."

Liu Feng shook his head. "You stay in Yidu. You know every tree and blade of grass in this area, and you have a history with the leaders of the various Yi tribes, so communication will be easy. I have other troops to attack Wuling. The key to this battle is time. Every day we linger here, the more uncertain things become in Wuling. Once we take over Wuling County, Yidu will become an isolated city surrounded on three sides. We can deal with it then."

After he finished speaking, the generals each accepted their orders and left.

That night, four thousand men lined up on the north bank of the valley. The veterans of the Fengzi Battalion were clad in gleaming armor, and the Jade Lion Horse stood proudly beneath Liu Feng, occasionally pawing the ground with its front hooves, seemingly sensing the excitement of their impending departure.

Guan Ping led the Wancheng soldiers to clear the way, with Ma Liang riding in the middle of the carriage. The barbarian soldiers of the Poshuo Flying Army lined up along the roadside to see off the army. They still wore red scarves on their arms and held the steel swords they had captured from the Jiefan Army in their hands, standing in neat rows.

As Liu Feng rode past them, an old barbarian soldier suddenly shouted in broken Chinese, "Take care, young general!" Immediately afterward, more than three thousand barbarian soldiers shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the valley for a long time.

Ding Feng stood at the very front of the formation, cupping his fists above his head: "Deputy General, rest assured! As long as I am in Yidu, Lu Xun will not be able to sleep soundly for a single day."

Liu Feng returned the greeting by clasping his hands in greeting to him and Xi Zhen, then turned his horse around and looked westward.

Wuling is still two hundred miles away. After crossing the last two mountain ridges, you will reach the territory of the Wuxi Barbarians.