Hot flashes

After the generals solemnly accepted their orders and filed out of the main tent, the heavy tent curtains fell, shutting out the wind, snow, and noise outside, and the tent suddenly fell into an even more tense silence.

The charcoal crackled, and the light and shadow danced on Xiao Jue's cold, hard profile.

Zhou Heng remained standing there, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions. He was both apprehensive about his earlier boastful words and secretly excited about participating in such a crucial decision.

He was about to quietly slip away to continue his unreliable "sky-gazing project" when his wrist was suddenly gripped by a large, hot, and powerful hand.

The force was so great that he was caught off guard and stumbled forward, crashing directly into a chest as hard as iron.

"Hou..." His exclamation was cut off before it could even leave his lips.

Without warning, Xiao Jue lowered his head and kissed him fiercely.

Fierce, fiery, and undeniably aggressive, like a long-suppressed volcano suddenly erupting.

A scalding tongue pried open his slightly parted lips and teeth in surprise, plunging in and sweeping freely, seizing the thin air in his lungs, as if marking, conquering, and venting some indescribable intense emotion.

Zhou Heng's mind went completely blank with a "boom". He struggled instinctively, putting his hands on Xiao Jue's chest, but it was like an ant trying to shake a tree.

Those iron-like arms held him firmly in place, their bodies pressed tightly together. He could even feel the intense body heat and steady, powerful heartbeat emanating from beneath the other's armor, and... a certain undeniable, hardening change.

My lips and tongue went numb from being sucked.

His nose was filled with Xiao Jue's strong masculine scent, a mixture of leather, metal, and a unique, cool fragrance, which domineeringly invaded all his senses.

Deprived of oxygen, his vision blurred and his legs went weak. He only managed to stay upright thanks to Xiao Jue's support.

After an unknown amount of time, just when Zhou Heng felt he was about to suffocate and faint, Xiao Jue stepped back slightly, but his lips lingered on Zhou Heng's ravaged, slightly swollen lips, gently caressing them.

Their noses touched, their breaths mingling hotly.

Xiao Jue's eyes were unfathomable, churning with undercurrents that Zhou Heng couldn't understand. His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a slight pant from passion and a hint of ruthlessness that was impossible to deny: "Your 'Apocalypse' had better come true."

Zhou Heng was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, his face was so red it could drip blood, his lips were burning, and a few physiological tears were forced from the corners of his eyes.

His mind was still reeling, completely stunned by the sudden, intense kiss. It took him a while to find his voice, which was hoarse and trembling: "I...I'll keep a close eye on things..."

Xiao Jue gave him another deep look, his gaze complex and unreadable. In the end, he said nothing, released his grip on him, turned and walked into the inner room, leaving behind only a sentence that revealed no emotion: "Go and prepare."

Zhou Heng staggered, grabbing the table beside him to steady himself. He clutched his chest, feeling his heart pounding in his throat, the sensation on his lips and the aggressive breath lingering in his mind.

He shook his muddled head, not daring to think too deeply, and almost involuntarily moved out of the main tent.

The cold air outside the tent rushed in, slightly cooling his burning cheeks, but it couldn't dispel the tangled mess in his heart or the vivid mark on his lips.

Over the next two days, the Northern Liang army, this war machine, operated at full speed, yet strangely it was divided into two layers, one overt and one covert.

On the surface, flags fluttered and bugles sounded at passes and camps throughout the east, soldiers moved back and forth frequently, and craftsmen were busy reinforcing the fortifications, all in an air of determination to fight to the death.

The spies sent by the King of Qi mingled among the merchants and refugees. Upon seeing this scene from afar, they hurriedly relayed the message that "the Northern Liang army intends to hold out to the death."

Secretly, 15,000 elite troops from the Northern Liang, selected through careful planning, quietly gathered in a secluded valley far from the main defensive line.

The horseshoes were wrapped in thick cloth and non-slip straw bundles, and the key parts of the armor were treated with anti-reflective material. Everyone was given frozen jerky, fried noodles, and a small leather sachet of strong liquor.

There were no rousing pre-battle speeches, only silent inspections and a final wipe of the weapons.

Zhou Heng had huge dark circles under his eyes and had barely closed them.

He dragged several of his most experienced scouts and local guides to the highest hill in the vicinity, where they observed the cloud formations and wind speed changes repeatedly, recording every subtle anomaly.

He even followed the example of the ancients, hanging some dry sheepskin ropes outside to observe the degree of swelling caused by moisture.

His nervousness was contagious. Chen Zhen was ordered to lead a team of guards to protect him. Seeing him looking up at the sky from time to time, muttering to himself, and startling himself, even his usually expressionless face showed a hint of helplessness.

Finally, on the eve of their scheduled departure, Zhou Heng looked at the increasingly low and heavy clouds in the southeast, which faintly revealed an ominous dark red color. He felt the sticky and humid atmosphere in the air, as if water could be squeezed out of it, and the subtle but certain signs of a reversal in the wind direction. He suddenly turned around and rushed towards the central command tent where Xiao Jue was.

"My lord!" He didn't even bother with the formalities, his voice hoarse from excitement and lack of sleep. "The cloud cover has reached its limit, the southeast winds have changed, and by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, a blizzard will reach the middle reaches of the Yinma River! Its force... will probably be even more intense than anticipated!"

Xiao Jue was finalizing the marching route and attack sequence when he heard this and looked up.

In the candlelight, half his face was illuminated and half was hidden in shadow, revealing no emotion. He simply nodded: "Understood. Go and rest; we must march tomorrow."

Zhou Heng opened his mouth, wanting to emphasize the intensity of the blizzard again, but seeing Xiao Jue's calm and unfathomable eyes, he swallowed all his words back.

He silently withdrew and returned to his small tent, but how could he fall asleep? His mind kept rehearsing all sorts of possible scenarios, good, bad, but mostly bad.

Before dawn, the sky was pitch black, the wind and snow had temporarily stopped, and it was the coldest time of day.

Fifteen thousand Northern Liang warriors, gagged and horses with hooves wrapped, silently left the hidden valley like a pack of wolves slipping out of their den. They first headed north, then, using the terrain as cover, suddenly turned southeast and pounced on the sleeping glacier—the Yinma River.

The ice on the river surface gleamed with a cold, hard, bluish-white sheen under the hazy light of the sky, stretching out into the distance.

The horses' hooves pounded the ground, producing a dull, distinctive "clack-clack" sound that carried far in the quiet of dawn, sending chills down one's spine.

Zhou Heng rode on a specially selected, relatively docile and steady packhorse, wrapped in a thick fur coat, yet he still felt the cold seeping into every crevice, his limbs and bones stiff with cold.

He followed closely beside Chen Zhen, positioned near the front of the central army, where he could clearly see Xiao Jue's tall and straight back.

The army moved silently and swiftly across the ice. Scout squads, like arrows released from a bow, constantly scattered forward and to the sides, returning like meteors carrying the latest intelligence.

The news reached Xiao Jue: the various Qi army units were indeed advancing steadily towards the feigned defense line in the eastern part of Beiliang, just as they had "predicted."

Its massive central army, along with the King of Qi's royal banner and great flag, had already established a fortified camp stretching for several miles on a sheltered, gentle slope about eighty miles south of the Yinma River.

The camp was well-organized, with flags flying everywhere and patrols being very strict, exuding an air of confidence and determination to win.

Only the leaden gray, ever-thickening, churning clouds overhead, and the increasingly oppressive and humid feeling in the air, hung like the Sword of Damocles over everyone's hearts, including Zhou Heng's taut nerves.

He looked up at the sky almost every fifteen minutes, his fingers unconsciously counting, praying frantically in his heart: It must come, it must come on time, but... please don't be too sudden, God!

In the afternoon, the sky darkened at a visible speed, like a huge, water-soaked, dirty rag pressing heavily on the earth.

The wind had stopped at some point, and the world was deathly silent; even the sound of horses' hooves pounding on the ice seemed particularly abrupt and jarring.

This silence was more unsettling than a howling wind.

Zhou Heng's heart leaped into his throat. It's here! This is the feeling! The extreme oppression before a blizzard!

Suddenly, without warning, the southeastern horizon darkened sharply, as if splashed with thick ink.

Immediately afterwards, a grayish-white, rolling "wall" surged forward at breakneck speed, skimming the horizon! It wasn't a cloud; it was a moving, roaring snowstorm!

"They're here!" Zhou Heng cried out, his voice drowned out by the sudden, mournful gust of wind that sounded like the wails of thousands of ghosts.

Almost in the blink of an eye, that "snow wall" swallowed up the sky and earth! The gale swept across the glacier with goose feather snow and fine, hard ice particles, with a destructive force!

Visibility instantly dropped to less than ten steps, no, five steps! Only the wildly spinning white and the deafening howl of the wind remained in the world.

The horses and men were blown about, and the cold snowflakes stung their faces and hands like knives.

The real, and more intense "white-haired wind" has arrived!

On the glacier, the Northern Liang army was instantly pulled into this chaotic and violent white hell.

The wind drowned out all commands, and the heavy snow blurred all vision.

But amidst this extreme chaos and terror, Zhou Heng vaguely saw that the tall figure in front of him suddenly raised his long spear in the raging wind and snow, the tip of the spear pointing forward, like an indomitable battle flag!

The call to attack was swallowed by the wind and snow. But the desperate charge had already begun silently under the cover of the power of heaven and earth.