Chapter Seven: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss

"Commander, it’s a disaster!"

Xiao Ling shrieked, his battle robes shredded and coated in mud and wood splinters. He stumbled, falling and scrambling until he collapsed before the Commander-in-Chief of the Taining Army.

This was the scene that greeted Qi Kejirang, known as the "Snowy Clearing of the Qilian Mountains," as he arrived at the front lines aboard a reed raft, having crossed the waters of Mengzhu Marsh.

"Get up. You are an officer of our army; such a loss of composure is unbecoming," Qi Kejirang said. His expression shifted only slightly, but his voice remained as calm as an ancient, undisturbed well.

Xiao Ling was no ordinary man. He was the direct descendant of the Lanling Xiao clan, tracing his lineage to the ninth of the twenty-four meritorious officials of Lingyan Pavilion, Duke Xiao Yu of Song, whom Emperor Taizong of Tang had praised in verse: "The fierce wind reveals the sturdy grass; the chaos of the times identifies the loyal subject. How can the brave understand justice? The wise must possess benevolence." Xiao Ling had passed the imperial examinations at eighteen and joined the Snow Commander’s camp at twenty. He was considered gifted in both literature and martial arts, a youth of great promise who favored a golden sword for subduing demons, earning him the nickname "Golden Sword Xiao Ling."

Including Yan Lingkong, the six generals most trusted by Qi Kejirang were known as the "Six Stars of the Southern Dipper."

Though just past twenty, Xiao Ling was already a candidate for the "Six Stars," with a future of limitless potential.

In his youth, someone had once praised his name, saying, "The fluttering of a jade feather is a sign of soaring heights; you shall surely bring glory to your house."

Yet, all Xiao Ling wanted now was to sprout wings and fly away.

His mind was haunted by the scene he had just witnessed—the towering frame of Chu Kuangsheng crashing to the ground like a sack of rags, the relentless drumbeat of hooves trampling his lifeless body, splattering the earth with dust and sprays of emerald blood.

"Commander..." Xiao Ling gasped, breathless. "The enemy general Meng Kai, Meng Juehai... he possesses... he possesses the strength of ten thousand men. Our lines have been utterly shattered. The enemy cavalry keeps pouring in; the brothers... they cannot hold much longer..."

Before Qi Kejirang could speak, Yan Lingkong, one of the "Six Stars," could no longer contain himself. "Cannot hold? Look at the sky!"

Xiao Ling looked up in shock. As Qi Kejirang had landed, a row of trebuchets had already been neatly arrayed along the shore. As the laborers pulled the triggers, fist-sized stones were launched like a hailstorm over the Taining Army's positions, crashing into the charging rebel cavalry. Horses were struck, instantly gored with bloody craters, and in a heartbeat, the air was filled with the screams of men and the neighing of horses as riders were thrown.

"With Song Wei pinning him down, Huang Chao dare not commit his main force to a full-scale assault on my beachhead. His cavalry is limited in number and cannot afford such attrition. Today, the enemy's gains end here."

Qi Kejirang spoke with calm composure. "Men, retrieve the bodies of Chu Kuangsheng, Feng Geyin, and the other fallen soldiers."

In front of everyone, Yan Lingkong slapped Xiao Ling across the face. "Your Xiao family is a house of wealth and status, renowned for producing scholars and warriors. During the Battle of Feishui, your ancestor served as the vanguard for Liu Laozhi of the Beifu Army, crushing the hundreds of thousands of the Former Qin forces on the Huai River. Looking at you now, is the Xiao family headed for ruin?"

Xiao Ling bowed his head, admitting his fault, but his tightly clenched fists revealed his inner shame and rage, his handsome face flushing red. Even as he tried to steel himself, dispelling the gloom in his heart, he caught sight of a horse being led past—the same color as the yellow-maned steed Meng Kai had ridden—and he couldn't help but shudder.

***

Yan Lingkong naturally understood the cause of Xiao Ling’s fear and sighed inwardly.

After all, this was Xiao Ling's first time on the battlefield. While he had campaigned against bandits with the Snow Commander before, those were minor skirmishes. Though he was an ambitious young man skilled in both arts, he had been raised in luxury and was somewhat coddled. It was inevitable that he would feel fear upon witnessing such carnage for the first time.

Perhaps, the battlefield was not for everyone; some people were born with quiet blood flowing through their veins.

When the hail of stones ceased, the plains south of Mengzhu Marsh were littered with the broken corpses of men and beasts.

Until now, the desperate charges of the cavalry led by Meng Kai, Zhu Wen, and Duan Hongyan had seized the initiative, inflicting significant casualties on the Taining Army and dampening their momentum. But as Qi Kejirang deployed his trebuchets, the rebel cavalry began to suffer, and even Meng Kai’s lieutenants, Ban Fanlang and Peng Baihu, had their horses killed, falling from their saddles bloodied before being rescued by their comrades.

Shandong was a land of plains and hills, fertile, well-watered, and temperate—ideal for horse breeding. It was famous for the Bohai breed, and the "Shandong highwaymen" were renowned throughout the world. Although Huang Chao’s army was a rebel force, the wealth accumulated by the Huang family through generations of salt trading had allowed them to gather many sturdy horses suitable for war.

However, the rebels' supply of warhorses could not compare to the northern nomadic tribes, and their cavalry could not afford the reckless attrition of the northern barbarians.

Thus, even a warrior as fierce as Meng Kai, Meng Juehai, knew that the battle could not continue today; he had to quit while he was ahead.

Just as Zhu Wen and Meng Kai were about to order their troops to retreat, a slender figure appeared silently before the Taining Army lines, standing still under a plain water-bamboo oil-paper umbrella. Though it was the season of the early summer floods in May, a fine, feather-like snow drifted down, swirling and dancing around his form, radiating a cold, ethereal chill. He exuded an air of detachment so profound that the world around him seemed merely a backdrop for his presence.

Due to the nature of his cultivation, his sleek black hair shimmered with a faint, ghostly blue luster, a deep, indigo darkness that held a soul-captivating, magical quality.

A heroic, armored youth stood guard behind him—Yan Lingkong of the "Six Stars." Beside him stood a figure dressed in black, face masked with only the eyes visible, holding an ancient wooden tray upon which rested a precious sword, its blade gleaming with the biting cold of frost.

The newcomer was none other than the "Snowy Clearing of the Qilian Mountains," Commander Qi Kejirang. This legendary commander, whose name shook the Tang Empire, appeared before the two armies, instantly drawing every gaze.

Qi Kejirang had a face with a broad, flat forehead, a straight, noble nose, and a gentle, refined mouth. His facial features were soft, his contours smooth, creating an appearance of elegant, scholarly grace.

In his youth, the Snow Commander had been a classic, gentle beauty, like a jade tree standing in the wind, his every soft glance enough to stun time itself. The years had not stripped away his beauty; instead, they had added a mature, natural authority befitting a commander who had weathered the fields of war. Even Yan Lingkong, with his own cold, sharp-browed, and heroic features, seemed nothing more than a backdrop against the mature, detached depth that time had cultivated in Qi Kejirang.

"Huang Chao has taken on some fine disciples."

Qi Kejirang stood under his umbrella, the swirling snow around him painting a scene of stillness. He remained as motionless as a mountain, his tone as calm as autumn water, yet his every gesture revealed an innate, effortless grace.

As he spoke, his gaze locked with Zhu Wen’s, then drifted to Meng Kai and Duan Hongyan.

"Meng Kai, Meng Juehai—naturally gifted with divine strength and boundless courage, he is no creature of a mere pond. If he survives the blood and sand of the wars to come, in time, his martial arts may well surpass my own."

Qi Kejirang continued his assessment with unhurried poise: "As for this young Lady Duan, though young, her archery is not inferior to the divine marksmen of old. Truly, she possesses an extraordinary spirit."

Meng Kai and Duan Hongyan exchanged glances, both feeling a touch of flattery.

The Snow Commander was, after all, their enemy. To receive such validation from the legendary and peerlessly elegant Qi Kejirang was no small feat.

Of course, the Snow Commander did not mind praising outstanding youths, even if they were opponents. Yan Lingkong, who knew Qi Kejirang well, did not feel slighted by his commander’s praise for the three.

However, Qi Kejirang’s gaze lingered longest on Zhu Wen. He observed the youth, but offered no specific comment, finally saying only, "You, too, are not bad, young man."

Zhu Wen did not respond, his expression one of blatant disrespect.

He was dissatisfied that they had failed to achieve a greater victory in this battle.

Moreover, Zhu Wen’s style was to repay every kindness and every grudge. In his eyes, how could Qi Kejirang, an enemy, be worthy of judging him?

The sharp aura he had displayed earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced by a lazy, couldn't-care-less attitude. This dismissive gaze stirred anger in Yan Lingkong, who longed to charge forward and cleave the little beast from his horse, forcing him to kneel before Commander Qi and beg for mercy.

But "Snow Commander" Qi Kejirang was known for his self-restraint. Since his commander did not mind, Yan Lingkong could only remain standing in his place.

That the world-renowned "Snowy Clearing of the Qilian Mountains" would pay such attention to Zhu Wen was, of course, not because of his looks. Qi Kejirang himself was a man of supreme beauty and had seen no shortage of handsome youths.

In this engagement, Zhu Wen had not displayed any particularly outstanding feats.

Yet, Qi Kejirang’s vast experience allowed him to recognize that this youth was far from ordinary.

Hidden beneath Zhu Wen’s nonchalant gaze was a burning, secret ambition. It was not easily seen, but to Qi Kejirang, it contained an extraordinary power, like a dragon coiled in the depths of an abyss.