The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Ouyang Xiu, who also served as the "military supervisor," stood with his hands behind his back before the sand table. His aged face was as calm as still water, but his aging eyes, though dim, were now sharp as an eagle's. He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable determination: "Without eliminating the bandits, Chenzhou will not be at peace, and the capital region will be in turmoil. His Majesty is in Bianjing, awaiting our victory report. This battle concerns national policy, the hearts of the people, and, most importantly, the safety of our Great Song's southeastern bulwark! Generals—"

His gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling on Di Qing and Wang Zhonghua: "Defense Commander Di, now that General Wang's strategy for suppressing the bandits has been agreed upon, act decisively and launch a swift attack! I am here to oversee the central army and coordinate all sides. In this battle, victory is imperative; defeat is not an option!"

"Your humble servant obeys!" The crowd responded in unison, their voices shaking the roof tiles.

Specific operational plans were quickly issued:

Jiang Ping, the commander of the Chenzhou navy, led 500 warships and secretly arrived at the narrow pass of the waterway connecting Qinxiang Lake and Lushan before midnight, completely blocking the Black Wind Village bandits' escape route by water. This was a crucial link; if the waterway was not cut off, the bandit leader, Lu Laojiu, would most likely escape into Lushan, causing endless trouble.

The main offensive was by land. Di Qing personally commanded the central army, directing the overall operation.

The vanguard on the left flank, led by Wang Zhonghua, uses his elite "Dark Arrows" as the spearhead, supplemented by 1,500 newly trained soldiers. They will advance along a hidden path on the southern slope of Laoya Mountain, directly attacking the rear of Black Wind Village, and will be responsible for the main attack and decapitation.

The vanguard on the right flank, led by Zhang Biao, with two thousand soldiers, will make a feint from the front to attract the bandit army's attention. Once the left flank is captured, they will launch a full-scale attack.

Li Xin, Zhou An, and others will each lead their own troops to be responsible for flanking cover and intercepting the fleeing bandits.

The final assault was scheduled for midnight that night, signaled by three rockets.

After the military meeting adjourned, the generals returned to their respective camps to prepare. Wang Zhonghua stepped out of his tent, gazing at the swirling snowflakes, and whispered to Du Ziteng and Qin Tiedan, who were following closely behind, "Pass down the order: 'Dark Arrow'—everyone check their equipment, oil their bows and crossbows, sharpen the steel knives sent from Lüjia Village, and bring three days' worth of rations and medicine. Tell the brothers, this is our first battle since we began training; we must fight with might, and more importantly… come back alive!"

"Yes!" Du Ziteng and Qin Tiedan answered the order solemnly.

Just past dusk, the sky was completely dark. The wind and snow intensified, and the goose-feather-like snowflakes were whipped by the gale, stinging against our faces. The world was a vast expanse of white, with extremely low visibility.

The vanguard on the left flank had already assembled outside the camp. The soldiers, wearing their winter coats inside out and white cloths wrapped around their heads, stood silently in the wind and snow, like snow sculptures. Wang Zhonghua, also dressed in white, stood at the front of the column. His injuries had mostly healed under Liu Xinyi's careful care, but his face was still somewhat pale, and his eyes were colder than the ice and snow.

"Brothers!" Wang Zhonghua's voice rang clearly through the wind and snow. "I know today is the tenth of the lunar month, a night for family reunions!" He paused, his gaze sweeping over the young yet resolute faces. "But the bandits won't lay down their weapons just because we're celebrating the New Year! Our parents, wives, and children won't be able to enjoy the New Year in peace just because we're fighting in this snowstorm! This battle isn't for military merit, it's for our homes, it's so that our loved ones can finally enjoy a peaceful New Year free from bandits!"

He abruptly drew his "Snow Chant" sword from his waist, its blade gleaming coldly in the snowy light: "In this battle, I am invincible! Let's go!"

There were no grand pronouncements, only resolute actions. The team, like a giant white python, silently slithered into the dense forest on the southern slope of Laoya Mountain.

The mountain path was rugged, and the snow was knee-deep. The biting wind was like a knife, piercing through winter clothes and seeping into their bones. The soldiers trudged forward with difficulty, some slipping and falling, only to be immediately pulled up by their comrades. No one spoke, only the heavy breathing and the crunching of their feet on the snow were exceptionally clear in the silent mountain forest.

Wang Zhonghua led the way, while Du Ziteng led the "Dark Arrows" scouts ahead. Qin Tiedan followed closely beside Wang Zhonghua like a guardian angel, vigilantly watching the surrounding darkness. Lü Maoyi had already disappeared ahead of the column; his reconnaissance battalion was the army's most acute eyes and ears.

"General Wang, this damn weather is awful!" Zhang Biao caught up from behind.

Looking up, Wang Zhonghua saw that the man beside him in the swirling snow looked like an iron tower just dug out of the snow.

Zhang Biao was a burly man with a broad back and a thick waist. His face was dark and rough from the northwest wind, and his thick eyebrows were covered with ice crystals, making them look like two white caterpillars at first glance. The most striking feature was his bushy beard—which should have been a majestic and imposing beard, but now it was frozen into a lump of ice, hard and stuck on his chin, twitching up and down as he spoke, looking just like a goat's tail.

This man was Di Qing's most capable lieutenant, fearless in battle but a chatterbox and a real character in ordinary times. It is said that once during a night raid, he held his urine and followed the enemy for thirty miles. When he returned, he complained to everyone he met, "Damn it, I almost became the first general to die from holding my pee!" This angered Di Qing so much that he scolded him, "You can't expect anything good to come out of a dog's mouth."

"General Wang, this damn weather is awful," Zhang Biao said in a low voice, catching up a few steps from behind. He barely dared to open his mouth wide, afraid of freezing his tongue to his teeth. His dark face was reddened by the wind and snow, his nose shining bright red, making him look like a clown on a stage. As he spoke, he used his thickly gloved hands to brush away the icy stubble from his chin, snapping off a few pieces of ice and throwing them into the snow. "But it's also excellent cover. Damn it, in this weather, the enemy will definitely think we're all huddled up in our camp warming ourselves by the fire. Who the hell would think we're out here starving?"

Wang Zhonghua nodded, his breath instantly turning to frost: "The more difficult the situation, the more it forges an iron army. Commander Zhang, the feint on the right flank must be realistic, but you must also conserve your strength. When the general offensive begins, your unit will still need to fight with all its might."

"Don't worry!" Zhang Biao patted his chest, the force so great that it shook a large patch of snow off his body. He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth that trembled slightly from the cold. "I, Old Zhang, know what's good for me! You wouldn't believe it, my bunch of bastards have been itching for a fight in the camp for ages. Now that they've been let out for a spin, they're all like they've been injected with chicken blood, they can't wait to rush up and fight those Western Xia dogs!"

As he spoke, he suddenly remembered something, leaned closer, and lowered his voice, saying, "But General Wang, you have to give me a heads-up—when is the final offensive? I want the brothers to keep their energy up, so that we don't end up going all out and then losing it all, which would be a huge loss."

This guy was rough around the edges but meticulous in battle. He seemed carefree, but he never hesitated when it mattered. It is said that once after winning a battle, while others were drinking and celebrating, he squatted on the ground counting heads. He discovered that three brothers were missing, so he led his men to search for them that very night and managed to pull them out from a pile of corpses.

Wang Zhonghua couldn't help but laugh at his serious expression: "Don't worry, I'll let you be the first one to rush in."

Zhang Biao's eyes lit up, and he patted his chest again: "Alright! With you saying that, I, Old Zhang, entrust my life to you!" He paused, then chuckled, "But you'd better tell the kitchen to prepare plenty of wine. After the battle, I need to make sure the brothers warm themselves up properly—damn this weather, it's so cold you have to use a stick to pee!"

Wang Zhonghua couldn't help but chuckle, thinking to himself that this guy was indeed a real character. But then he thought that having someone like this in the army was actually a blessing—he risked his life on the battlefield, and laughed and joked off the battlefield. Soldiers had both awe and closeness to such a commander.

A muffled rumble, like thunder, came from the direction of the enemy. Zhang Biao immediately wiped the smile off his face; his usually playful eyes suddenly sharpened like a hawk's. He listened for a moment, then whispered, "There's movement over there. General Wang, I'm going to the right flank. Take care!"

Without waiting for Wang Zhonghua's reply, his towering figure disappeared into the wind and snow, leaving only a trail of footprints that were quickly filled in by the heavy snow.

Wang Zhonghua gazed in that direction and suddenly recalled Di Qing's assessment of Zhang Biao: "This fellow may look like a brute, but he's actually more shrewd than anyone else. He uses rudeness as a facade and honesty as armor; only in this way can he survive on the battlefield and lead his brothers to survival."

The wind and snow intensified.

Wang Zhonghua pulled his cloak tighter around himself and turned to walk towards his team.