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

As the last rays of sunset faded behind the western mountains, only the crimson flames and the incessant shouts of battle remained on the battlefield.

The heavy cavalry broke through the right flank of the Wu army, leaving behind a path strewn with corpses.

Pan Zhang's nearly 10,000 armored soldiers have been completely routed—the central army was cut in half, and the left and right flanks were routed by the combined attack of Kou Wei and Sha Moke.

The wounded soldiers, their bones crushed by the cavalry's iron hooves, rolled and groaned on the ground. More Wu soldiers began to discard their weapons, ignoring the supervisors who were still brandishing their swords, and scattered and fled to the rear.

No one could regroup them into formation.

Liu Feng reined in his horse, the Jade Lion, and held his spear horizontally in front of the saddle. The five hundred heavy cavalry had all broken through the enemy formation and were regrouping on the other side. The men and horses were breathing heavily, and their armor was splattered with blood, but not a single rider had fallen behind.

Shamoke, panting heavily, rode up from the side. A large hand slung a bow and arrows over the saddle, and the horse turned to grin at him: "My lord! That was exhilarating! This battle was truly exhilarating! This cavalry charge was absolutely unstoppable!"

Liu Feng wiped the blood off his spear onto his battle robe and looked up toward the Wu army camp—the camp gates were in chaos, and fleeing soldiers poured in like a tide. The Wu army camp's flags were still there, but they were askew and about to fall.

"Pass on the order."

Liu Feng's voice was not loud, but it steadily suppressed the surrounding noise.

"Continue the pursuit and capture Pan Zhang's stronghold."

The moment Pan Zhang's heavy cavalry broke through the central army, he realized one fact: victory was impossible today.

Ma Zhong led several hundred of his men in a desperate struggle to pull him from under the iron hooves of the heavy cavalry. Under the cover of dusk, the group broke through the chaos of the army and ran wildly towards the northeast.

Behind them, the camp was ablaze, the flames illuminating half the night sky. The shouts of battle and cries of agony were gradually carried away by the night wind.

"General Pan!"

Ma Zhong rode on his horse, his battle robe soaked in blood, and there was a knife wound on his left cheek that was still bleeding.

"It's too late to go to Lingyang—the garrison there numbers only a few hundred; they can't stop Liu Feng's iron cavalry! Head to Linyuan! Linyuan is the capital of Wuling Commandery, with high walls, deep moats, and ample food supplies. If we can enter the city and hold it, and then ask Lu Xun and Lü Meng for reinforcements, we can at least save our lives!"

Pan Zhang did not answer.

His armor was covered in knife marks, and his left arm, which had been wounded by an arrow, had been split open and then struck by a spear, leaving half of his sleeve stained dark red with blood.

Pan Zhang glanced back at the battlefield engulfed in flames, where he had taken over ten thousand elite troops from Jiang Qin; now only a few hundred remained behind him. He gritted his teeth, turned back, and forced out a single word: "Go."

Pan Zhang's remaining troops dared not linger and sped off towards Lin Yuan.

Liu Feng stood before the ruins of the Wu army camp, watching as Pan Zhang's remaining troops disappeared in the northeast direction.

The Jade Lion Horse was covered in sweat, and its legs were splattered with mud and blood.

Shamoke rode up from the right flank, carrying his large ox-horn bow on his shoulder, with half a bloody tendon still hanging from the bowstring.

"My lord, Pan Zhang has escaped! He's heading towards Linyuan! Should we give chase?"

"Chase."

Liu Feng slammed his spear to the ground and turned to Kou Wei beside him.

"Ziwu, you stay here to clean up the battlefield. After the Wu soldiers surrender and lay down their arms, gather them together and keep them under guard. Treat the wounded, bury the dead, and inventory and register the supplies in the camp. There won't be many soldiers guarding Lingyang. Send a team with my order to persuade them to surrender. If they don't surrender, then fight them."

Kou Wei clasped his hands in acceptance of the order.

Liu Feng then turned to Sha Moke: "Commander, take the warriors who can still run and follow me in pursuit."

A moment later, Liu Feng personally led his heavy cavalry, along with the barbarian soldiers under Shamoke's command, in a swift eastward pursuit along the route Pan Zhang had taken.

The sound of hooves, like a sudden downpour striking the ground, stretched eastward into the night.

Pan Zhang's remaining troops fled eastward for a day and a night.

Along the way, soldiers who had fallen behind kept collapsing by the roadside and never got up again.

When they finally caught a glimpse of the outline of Linyuan City in the distance, the horses were exhausted and foaming at the mouth, and the soldiers all looked ashen-faced.

Linyuan City stands on the east bank of the Yuan River. Its city walls gleam with a bluish-gray hue in the morning light, and its towering gates make it a formidable city that is easy to defend and difficult to attack.

Once you enter that city gate, there is a way to survive.

Then Pan Zhang saw the flag fluttering on the west bank of the Yuan River beneath Lin Yuan City.

That wasn't the banner of the Wu army that came to meet us in Linyuan City.

It was a large, crimson banner with the character "关" (Guan), beneath which stood a neatly arranged army.

The front row of Wancheng soldiers stood in imposing armor, while the rear row of barbarian soldiers stood like a forest of swords and spears, their formation orderly and guarding the Yuan River ferry, completely blocking the road to Linyuan.

At the front of the battle, a young general stood on horseback with his sword drawn, wearing heavy armor, and his face bore a seven-tenths resemblance to Guan Yu. It was none other than Guan Ping.

He was ordered by Liu Feng to lead two thousand soldiers northward from Yuanling along the Yuan River, and had been waiting outside Linyuan City for a long time.

Pan Zhang suddenly reined in his horse.

"A banner bearing the character 'Guan'. Judging from the general's appearance, that must be Guan Yu's eldest son, Guan Ping!"

Ma Zhong's voice suddenly dropped to a low pitch, his tone filled with undisguised despair.

The remaining soldiers behind him stopped in terror, some screaming in low voices, others retreating. Ma Zhong's face was deathly pale as he turned to look behind him. On the distant horizon, dust billowed, and Liu Feng and Sha Moke's pursuers were upon them.

First came Guan Ping, then came Liu Feng.

Caught in a pincer movement, there was no escape.

Pan Zhang remained silent for a moment, then slowly drew his ring-pommel sword from his waist. The blade was riddled with nicks and the edge was rolled back. He glanced back at the hundreds of pale-faced wounded soldiers behind him, then suddenly grinned, revealing a set of teeth stained with blood.

"I've fought half my life, but I never imagined my last battle would end up like this."

Pan Zhang's voice was hoarse, yet it carried an air of unyielding ferocity.

"Since we can't escape—then let's ram them! Let's ram Guan Ping's army formation! I'm not afraid of Guan Yu, his father, so why would I be afraid of a mere brat like Guan Ping?"

Ma Zhong gritted his teeth, drew his sword, and shouted hoarsely, "Brothers! If we can't get into Linyuan, we're dead! Charge with the general!"

Hundreds of remaining soldiers let out their final roars, like a group of trapped beasts driven to the brink of despair, and charged fiercely toward Guan Ping's army formation.

On a distant hill, Liu Feng reined in his horse. The Jade Lion, which had been galloping wildly for a full day and night, snorted. While the other horses were panting heavily, the Jade Lion remained energetic and showed no signs of fatigue.

Shamoke raised his large ox-horn bow and pointed it in Guan Ping's direction, urgently saying, "My lord, that scoundrel Pan Zhang is heading straight for Tanzhi! Why don't we attack him from both sides—"

Liu Feng raised his hand to stop Sha Moke.

He gazed at Guan Ping's army formation in the distance, where the young man was slowly drawing his sword under the command flag, and the formation began to change methodically.

"No need."

Liu Feng's voice was calm, "I have faith in Tan Zhi's strength. Issue the order! Form ranks and bolster Tan Zhi's morale. Do not provide support unless absolutely necessary."

Guan Ping's army formation began to move before Pan Zhang's remnants charged in. The front rank of soldiers planted their shields, crouching low and slamming them heavily into the ground. The middle rank of spearmen rested their spears on the rims of their shields, the spear tips pointing straight forward like a dense hedgehog. The rear rank of crossbowmen drew their bows, ready to fire, the bolts pointing diagonally into the sky.

The formation was perfectly aligned, with no unnecessary movements; every step was perfectly timed.

When Pan Zhang's remaining troops rushed within a hundred paces, Guan Ping finally lowered his command flag.

"Release the arrows."

The first volley of crossbow bolts rained down, pinning the Wu soldiers at the forefront, armor and all, to the ground, where they writhed and screamed in agony. The second volley followed closely behind, then the third. After three volleys, the momentum of the remaining troops was drastically reduced, and the soldiers at the very front had all fallen in the rain of arrows.

Pan Zhang, however, charged out from the rain of arrows.

He was struck in the shoulder by an arrow, the arrowhead embedded in his armor. Without even pulling it out, he swung his sword and cleaved the spear of a Wancheng soldier, then charged into the formation of swords and shields like a mad tiger.

Blades flashed, shields shattered, and Pan Zhang slaughtered several men in quick succession, tearing a gap in the enemy ranks. Ma Zhong followed closely behind, thrusting his spear and felling a barbarian soldier who was trying to flank him.

Guan Ping rode up from the formation to meet them.

The sword he was carrying was not an ordinary ring-pommel sword, but a long sword with a shape that closely resembled the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

The blade was broad and thick, its edge gleaming with a cold, eerie light in the morning glow. Guan Ping was not wearing heavy armor, only light leather armor, his arm muscles bulging beneath his battle robe.

"Pan Zhang".

Guan Ping's voice wasn't loud, but it carried steadily across the battlefield: "You slaughtered my allies of Wuxi; today is your death day."

Pan Zhang slashed down the shield-bearer in front of him with a single stroke, then looked up to meet Guan Ping's gaze. He grinned, his face covered in blood, his expression ferocious: "Guan Ping, you brat, it would be more like your father had arrived!"

Guan Ping did not speak again.

He spurred his horse forward, his longsword slashing diagonally from the right. The strike began extremely low, the blade almost skimming the ground, before suddenly accelerating and cleaving upwards towards Pan Zhang's left ribs—the very starting stance of Guan Yu's direct lineage of the Spring and Autumn Blade Technique, the Dragging Blade Slash.

Pan Zhang parried with his sword, and sparks flew as the two blades clashed. Pan Zhang felt an immense force from the blade, his hand went numb from the impact, and he and his horse were forced back three steps by the blow.

Before he could even rein in his horse and regain his footing, Guan Ping's second strike arrived—the blade arced through the air, slashing horizontally at his waist. Pan Zhang hastily raised his sword to parry, but Guan Ping's strike was too heavy, forcefully pressing his ring-pommel sword towards his own chest.

Twenty.

After only twenty rounds, Pan Zhang was already at a disadvantage.

Pan Zhang's arm wound had completely reopened, blood streaming down his wrist, each swing of the sword accompanied by excruciating pain. Guan Ping's swordsmanship grew faster and faster, the blade flashing like a leaping dragon, each strike hitting Pan Zhang's most painful spots. Pan Zhang was covered in blood, yet he gritted his teeth and refused to retreat even a step.

Seeing that the situation was not good, Ma Zhong drew his spear and joined the battle.

His marksmanship was cunning; he specifically targeted Guan Ping's belly and ribs, attempting to force Guan Ping to retreat and defend.

"Two against one!"

Shamoke, watching from the hilltop, was furious; his large bow, drawn like a full moon, was already taut.

"Shameless!"

Just as he was about to spur his horse and charge down to help, Liu Feng raised his hand again to stop him.

"Let's see how Tanzhi handles this!"

Liu Feng's voice remained calm, but his gaze was fixed on the center of the battlefield.