Legend of the Female General

Chapter 174: Flying Swan

A light drizzle began to fall in the night, as the wind suddenly picked up. The rain carried a faint chill, descending into the vast wilderness.

Many of the torches near the camp were blown out by the wind. The Wutuo soldiers cursed under their breath—clear weather was always preferable to rain when stationed outdoors. For a moment, their gazes toward the city grew more savage and greedy. The people of Rundu could shelter from the wind and rain in their houses, and they had heard that Jinling held countless beauties adorned in silk and satin. Once they reached Shuojing, even greater treasures awaited. Even the daily provisions of an ordinary concubine in the Shuojing palace surpassed what the ministers of the Wutu Kingdom enjoyed.

It wouldn’t be long now. Once Lord Huyate gave the order for the final assault, the city would be theirs.

The Wutuo soldiers stared at the tightly shut city gates like ravenous dogs eyeing a piece of fat, their eyes filled with greed.

At that moment, a rope descended from above. In the darkness, a figure swayed precariously from the rope. Soon, many more ropes appeared, each carrying several figures.

A patrolling Wutuo soldier exclaimed, “Quick, inform the general! Those Rundu people are lowering straw dummies again!”

Huyate was drinking in his tent when he received the news. He sneered, “Do they really think we’ll send them fletched arrows every day? Tell the others to fire a few arrows, but no more. Even if we break them, we won’t give them to those spineless Great Wei cowards!”

His subordinate acknowledged the order and left.

The ropes swayed slightly. He Yan was among the first to descend from the city wall. Her movements were swift, and in an instant, her feet touched the ground. Before she could steady herself, she heard the “whoosh” of arrows overhead. Her heart tightened—the Wutuo people were firing arrows.

This was within her expectations. Prior to this, she had ordered straw dummies to be lowered twice, but she couldn’t rule out the possibility that the vigilant Wutuo soldiers might occasionally fire a few arrows to test them. Some arrows might miss, while others might strike the soldiers, but… there was no sound.

Apart from the rain and wind, nothing could be heard. As she had instructed, no matter how painful it was, they had to endure it. Only by pretending to be “straw dummies” would the Wutuo people believe that the ropes descending from the city wall carried nothing but straw dummies.

A faint rustling sound came from beside her. Others were descending on both sides. The five hundred elite soldiers would soon all land on this ground. Time was of the essence.

Fortunately, after firing a few arrows initially, the Wutuo people made no further moves. Likely, hearing no sounds, they were convinced that today was no different from before—another one of Li Kuang’s tricks to “borrow arrows.” They refused to be fooled again. Within a quarter of an hour, all the troops had assembled.

Among the five hundred, three were injured by the Wutuo arrows, though none sustained critical wounds. He Yan ordered these three to climb back up the ropes and return to the city. The rest were to follow her as they infiltrated the Wutuo camp.

The night rain provided the perfect cover. The curtain of rain concealed everything, shrouding the world in darkness.

Near the camp, patrolling soldiers moved about with flickering torches. The Wutuo troops were lax, likely believing that victory in this war was inevitable. They couldn’t imagine that Rundu’s meager forces would dare to launch a suicidal sneak attack. Even the patrolling soldiers carried out their duties half-heartedly.The wilderness was open and empty, without even a single grove of trees for cover—only low shrubs and scattered rocks. The Wutuo People had chosen a clever spot for their camp; such a place could hide no one. But by the same token, it made their grain and fodder depot easy to locate.

He Yan gestured to the men behind her. As she had instructed earlier, all the elite soldiers stealthily approached the nearby tents.

They needed to find the grain storage first. He Yan beckoned, and Jiang Jiao and Wang Ba’s group followed her lead. Those from the Liangzhou Guard were familiar with each other and knew how to cooperate. Having them locate and burn the grain depot was the best approach.

A Wutuo soldier sat in front of a tent, drinking. The Wutuo People were rough and barbaric, fond of strong liquor. While they complained that Rundu’s grape wine was too sweet and lacked the character of proper alcohol, they couldn’t bring themselves to put it down. The wine, stored in delicate jars, was poured straight into their mouths, and the empty jars were carelessly tossed aside without a second thought. Though sweet, the grape wine was still alcohol, and before long, a slight drunken haze began to set in.

Staggering to his feet, he walked to the edge of the wilderness where the shrubs grew thick, unfastened his trousers, and began to relieve himself. Midway through, he suddenly felt someone pat his shoulder. Thinking it was another soldier who had followed him, he turned impatiently—only to see a demonic face hovering behind him, grinning eerily.

In moments of extreme fear, people often find themselves unable to utter a sound. This Wutuo soldier was no exception. His mind went blank for a moment, his entire body turning cold. Before he could even cry out "ghost," a flash of cold light swept before him.

With a soft thud, his head fell to the ground.

The masked figure crouched down, dragged the body deep into the thicket, and before long, all traces of the Wutuo soldier had vanished. A shadowy figure then slipped silently into the camp.

At the same time, countless "demons" appeared within the Wutuo encampment, quietly claiming the lives of many Wutuo soldiers. Before they died, these Wutuo soldiers had no idea who had killed them, remembering only the terrifying, ghostly faces that had suddenly emerged from the darkness.

Another Wutuo soldier fell, dragged into an empty tent and arranged as if sleeping, his head drooping. Two masked figures nodded to each other, a flicker of satisfaction in their eyes.

Five hundred men—all except He Yan—wore demon masks. The young man in black, his expression stern, had told them, "The Wutuo People believe in ghosts and gods, in reincarnation. They kill without remorse, committing countless atrocities, yet every household worships Buddha statues. If we launch a night raid, each of us wearing these ferocious demon masks and suddenly appearing in the darkness, the Wutuo People, guilty in their hearts, will surely be terrified. Fear weakens morale—that will be our opportunity."

Now, it seemed, this had indeed proven true. Who would have thought that the Wutuo barbarians, who prided themselves on their bravery and ferocity, would also fear tales of ghosts and gods?

He Yan’s idea had actually come from the "Li Huang" mask she had seen during the Water God Festival in Jiyang. A single "Li Huang" mask, merely ugly, had been enough to disgust and repel the people of Jiyang. For the Wutuo People, the terror of demons was more than enough to shake their morale.

The Wutuo tents were not closely packed together; there was also distance between the tents of ordinary soldiers and those of the deputy commanders. As He Yan passed by a particularly spacious and luxurious tent, she heard the agonized cries of a woman coming from inside.The dim lamplight in the tent cast shadows within, faintly revealing struggling women and menacing figures, accompanied by the unrestrained laughter of the Wutuo people and the weeping of women, a sound that chilled the heart. He Yan instinctively halted her steps, her gaze fixed on the tent.

Jiang Jiao beside her tensed in alarm.

They had yet to locate the grain and fodder. If He Yan were to lose her patience and act now, all their efforts would be in vain. Not only would the captured women of Rundu die in vain, but so would the vanguard who had followed them here today, prepared to sacrifice their lives.

Though he too sympathized deeply with these women, in these chaotic times, women lacked the means to defend themselves. Once captured, they could only become playthings for the enemy.

Shitou was equally worried, cautiously tugging at the hem of He Yan's garment. She shifted her gaze away, raised a hand, and signaled for them to continue forward.

Jiang Jiao breathed a sigh of relief in his heart. Given He Yan's strong sense of justice, he had truly feared she would recklessly charge in and expose them.

The women's weeping gradually faded into the distance, yet it seemed to linger, echoing in everyone's ears. They all knew well that if they failed to burn the Wutuo people's grain and fodder tonight, if they failed to catch them off guard, it wouldn't be long before Rundu fell, and cries like those they heard tonight would resound everywhere.

Such was the cruelty of war.

As they advanced further, the number of patrolling Wutuo people increased, moving about with torches in hand. The soldiers' tents in the vicinity grew sparse, and there stood a large tent with dozens of carts parked outside.

He Yan, Wang Ba, and the others halted, hiding in the bushes behind them.

This was where the Wutuo people stored their grain and fodder.

So much grain and fodder—if they could bring it back to Rundu, it would alleviate many urgent needs. The soldiers wouldn't have to starve until they were sallow and emaciated, and the city's people wouldn't have to scrounge for rats and wild grass to eat. Yet He Yan also understood clearly that they couldn't possibly take this grain and fodder with them. If they grew greedy, the result would be that none of them would escape—they wouldn't secure a single grain, and hundreds of lives would be lost here.

The way of war was also the way of sacrifice. To win, one must also be willing to let go.

The Wutuo soldiers guarding the grain and fodder were highly vigilant, frequently glancing around. The torches illuminated the surroundings brightly, making it impossible to sneak close and set fires as they had done before.

"What do we do?" Shitou gestured, asking.

He Yan had already considered this. She pointed ahead, then at herself, aiming toward the grain storage area.

This meant they would follow the second plan they had discussed before setting out. But this plan was far too dangerous for He Yan.

Shitou still hesitated. He Yan smiled, motioned for him to extend his hand, and used her index finger to write on his palm. The others watched closely and realized she wasn't writing words but lightly sketching a hill and planting a flag on it.

She was reminding them of the flag competition.

Back in the Liangzhou Guard, during the flag competition on White Moon Mountain, it had also been the five of them. At that time, they had only just begun daily training, had never even seen what the Wutuo people looked like, and knew nothing of the true battlefield. Yet on that very mountain, they had captured all twenty flags.Robbery should look like robbery. Only now, their targets had shifted from their comrades in the Liangzhou Guard to the hateful and vicious Wutuo People. What they fought for was no longer twenty insignificant flags, but the grain supplies the Wutuo People treasured like jewels. What they sought was not the petty glory of a guard post, not the first place that would feed their vanity and pride, but the survival of tens of thousands of people in the city of Rundu.

With five people, as long as they worked together, they could do it before, and they could do it now.

Smiles rippled in the eyes behind the masks. He Yan lightly high-fived them and vanished into the night ahead of the others.

...

The wind grew fiercer than before, and the slanting raindrops struck their bodies, seeping in with a chill.

"Did you hear something just now?" a patrolling Wutuo soldier asked his companion beside him.

"Just the wind," his companion replied carelessly, mocking him. "What, have you been stationed outside Rundu for so long that you've become as timid as the Great Wei people?"

The Wutuo soldier didn't answer, only looked suspiciously into the distance. Just moments ago, he thought he had heard a faint, indistinct cry. He glanced around again and asked, "Aren't there fewer of us patrolling with torches?"

The Wutuo soldiers were all asleep in their tents, while the patrolmen stood guard outside. Even if the night rain had extinguished some torches, it shouldn't have extinguished the people as well. He walked over and happened to stop in front of a tent. The wind rustled the wild grass outside the tent and carried with it a strange scent—one he was not unfamiliar with, but rather intimately acquainted with. Day after day in the prisoner camps, on the estates outside Rundu, they had encountered it countless times.

It was the smell of blood.

The Wutuo soldier froze. Holding his torch, he stood before the tent, hesitated for a moment, and then stepped inside. The smell of blood grew even stronger inside. Everyone lay on the ground, seemingly fast asleep.

If one ignored the large pools of blood on the ground.

"Someone—enemy attack—Great Wei people are raiding the tents—" The patrolman had just shouted this when, in the dim light, a flash of blade suddenly gleamed. Immediately after, he felt a chill at his neck, and his body collapsed.

The torch fell to the ground. With great effort, he rolled his eyes, and in his line of sight, he saw a ghostly face with green skin and fangs, staring coldly at him.

...

The sound of horns echoed across the plains outside Rundu, jolting countless Wutuo soldiers from their dreams.

"Great Wei people are raiding the tents at night!"

The darkness and the storm masked the smell of blood. Only when everyone rose to investigate did they realize that many Wutuo soldiers in the tents had been killed in their sleep. Blood flowed out of the tents and merged with the mud of the plains, watering the land of Great Wei alongside the rain.

Huyate drew the long blade at his waist, gnashing his teeth in fury. "The Great Wei people dare to raid us at night? The warriors of Wutuo will ensure they never return! Kill all the Great Wei people!"

Killing intent erupted from all sides, the hidden dagger now revealed. Shouts and the sounds of fierce battle echoed from the tents.

"Ghosts—there are ghosts!" This was the panicked scream of the Wutuo people.

"Where are the ghosts? Those are Great Wei people!"

"No... they're ghosts!"

Black-clad figures emerged from all directions, their faces like ferocious ghosts, their expressions savage. They appeared silently beside the Wutuo soldiers, effortlessly harvesting their lives. The Wutuo people, originally cruel and bloodthirsty, lost their morale at the sight of the ghosts in the darkness, and chaos quickly ensued.Huyate angrily shouted, "What vengeful spirits? This is all a conspiracy by the Great Wei people! Look closely, everyone—they’re wearing masks on their faces! Anyone who doesn’t fight with all their might, who hesitates or holds back, will be dealt with by military law, and all will be beheaded!"

Huyate spoke so fiercely that the other Wutuo soldiers dared not retreat. Yet human fear does not simply vanish because of a single command. The masks crafted by the artisans of Rundu were designed to be utterly terrifying and eerie. The wearers remained silent, and anyone who saw them would feel their courage falter.

For the moment, the Wutuo soldiers gained no advantage.

Meanwhile, outside the tent where He Yan was stationed, the sounds of chaos from outside had already reached them. However, the Wutuo soldiers guarding the provisions only looked uneasy but did not move. Instead, they grew even more vigilant, scanning their surroundings.

Just then, a figure suddenly appeared, moving with incredible speed like a fleeting shadow, attempting to approach the provisions. The Wutuo soldiers immediately shouted, "Someone’s coming!"

The clashing of swords and blades filled the air. Only then did the Wutuo soldiers see clearly that the intruder was a masked figure dressed in black... but there was only one person?

"A single person dares to come and burn the provisions?" a Wutuo soldier mocked. "Lord Huyate was right—these Great Wei people are not only cowardly but also foolish!"

"Wutuo people are not only barbaric but also talkative," the masked figure in black retorted coldly.

"Archers, ready! Turn him into a porcupine!"

A rain of arrows fell from behind. The grain depot was guarded by the largest number of Wutuo soldiers, and no matter what happened outside, these men would not leave their posts. In a way, the provisions were the key to the Wutuo people’s victory without expending a single soldier. Attacking a city was far more difficult than defending it. A direct assault might lead to victory, but it would inevitably come with casualties. It was better to slowly wear down Rundu, waiting until most of the people inside starved to death and the city’s troops were too weak to fight. By then, breaching the city would be as easy as slicing through tofu.

Thus, Huyate also knew that the provisions could not afford the slightest mishap.

The arrows fell thick and fast, but the figure in black used his sword to deflect them. His swordsmanship was astonishingly skillful. Under the night rain and the flickering torchlight, his movements were so fast they were difficult to follow. All that could be seen was a dark figure fighting fiercely. In no time, the ground around him was littered with the bodies of Wutuo soldiers.

Huang Xiong and the others hiding in the grass were stunned.

Back in the Liangzhou Guard, they had known that He Yan was proficient in everything—swordsmanship, horsemanship, archery, whips, and spears—except they had never seen him use a sword. Jiang Jiao had once asked about it, and He Yan had simply replied, "My swordsmanship isn’t good. It feels awkward to use, so I’d rather not embarrass myself. When it comes to weapons, it’s best to use the one you’re most skilled with."

Tonight, when He Yan took Li Kuang’s treasured sword, they had assumed it was only because he needed to disguise himself as the Flying Goose General. Now, seeing his exquisite swordsmanship, it seemed he could rival the real Flying Goose General himself. In the past, he had been far too modest, never revealing his true abilities.

No wonder he dared to launch a solo night raid on the enemy camp to burn their provisions. Even this rain of arrows could do nothing to him.

"General! Someone is attacking near the grain depot!" Huyate’s trusted aide shouted.Huyat stabbed a masked man in the chest before him, yanked the blade out, and withdrew it slick with blood. The man collapsed, his mask clattering to the ground. Huyat stomped on it, grinding it fiercely into the dirt, then turned and strode toward the granary, sneering, "Overestimating yourself!"

As he approached the tents near the granary, he saw Wutuo soldiers everywhere, surrounding a lone swordsman in black at the center. His sword moved like a sweeping rainbow; though alone, he fought with the ferocity of an army of a hundred thousand. Black arrows rained down around him, yet not a single one grazed the hem of his robes. Wherever his longsword pointed, Wutuo people fell one after another.

Huyat halted abruptly.

Several Wutuo soldiers charged forward together, but the black-clad figure’s sword slithered past them like a serpent, twisting and swirling effortlessly. They fell before her, blood splattering across her silver mask, washed by the drizzling night rain yet unable to dilute its sharp, searing intensity—a chilling aura of killing intent.

Huyat’s mind went blank. "Who are you?"

The masked figure looked over. His eyes were strikingly beautiful and bright, enough to send shivers down one’s spine, yet his voice was calm, even gentle.

"Jade-like steps tread lightly over snow, the Flying Swan soars freely, startling the clouds." The black-clad figure tilted his head, gazing at Huyat. "I thought everyone in the world knew my name."

(End of Chapter)