The Strife of Chaos Chapter Ninety-Three: Second on the Kill List—Shadow

On the battlefield between Qin and Han, both sides had been locked in stalemate for a long time. Although in several engagements, Cao Cao had gained the upper hand, the Han army dared not relax in the slightest, especially with the example of Huo Qing before them.

Within Bai Qi's camp, discontent was growing. The fighting had dragged on with no progress, yet Bai Qi remained seated, and no one dared voice their complaints.

Late at night, Bai Qi sat alone in his tent, quietly reading the books on his desk. Suddenly, a chill wind swept through, lifting the curtain at his entrance.

Bai Qi slowly raised his head, looking toward the door, and spoke calmly, “Since you’re here, show yourself. What’s the point of hiding?”

“Truly, the God of War Bai Qi, your vigilance is remarkable.” From the shadows emerged a slender figure, wrapped head to toe in pitch-black robes, with only his cold, sinister eyes visible.

Bai Qi remained unperturbed, replying, “Your stealth is simply too weak.”

The man sneered, “You’re impressive, Bai Qi, but why haven’t you conquered Han yet?”

“What brings you here?” Bai Qi asked, closing his book and glancing up.

The man slouched into a chair and replied nonchalantly, “The higher-ups think you’re too slow. I’m here to help.”

“You brought the Dark Moon with you?” Bai Qi inquired as he shut his book.

“More or less. Hundreds of assassins have arrived.”

Bai Qi nodded slightly. “Now that you’re at the front, I must clarify something. I am the supreme commander of the Qin army. I expect you to keep your subordinates in check. If any of them violate a single military regulation, I will punish them according to martial law.”

The man’s sinister eyes fixed on Bai Qi. “I’m here to assist, not to serve under you. Besides, you’re not qualified to command me.”

“Oh?” Bai Qi’s tone remained calm. “I wonder how a has-been assassin who hasn’t advanced in decades finds the courage to speak to me like this.”

The shadowy figure laughed disdainfully. “A has-been? I am still ranked second among assassins. I’ve slain so many Saint Warriors I can’t count them on both hands. That young girl who appeared a few years ago—how could she ever compare to me? In the world of assassins, I am the true leader. As for you, does your reputation truly make you the world’s greatest general?”

Bai Qi tidied his desk, then said, “Do you know the biggest difference between you and Blood Lotus?”

“What is it?”

“She speaks less and acts faster than you. Most importantly, she is far more ruthless.”

“You know her well?”

“Of course. She’s just arrived.”

“What?” The shadowy assassin began glancing around, trying to locate the person Bai Qi mentioned.

“You’re lying. There’s no one nearby.”

Bai Qi smiled. “Are you sure? Come out, White Lotus.”

“Yes.” With that icy female voice emerging from nowhere, the shadowy assassin suddenly felt a chilling sensation at his throat. It seemed the cold source was right behind him. As a veteran assassin, he knew exactly what that distance meant. In the world of killers, the position between himself and Blood Lotus, and the proximity of her dagger to his throat, was a perfect distance—known as the omen of death. No matter how fast he was, at this range, he could not escape the fate of death.

“Put down your blade,” Bai Qi said, walking slowly to stand before the shadowy assassin.

“Yes.” Relief and joy flooded the assassin’s heart. For so many years, he had always used the omen of death to corner others; never had anyone made him feel such despair at its appearance.

“I never imagined the elusive Blood Lotus would be your subordinate.” The shadowy killer had always been intrigued by this mysterious assassin who seemed to surpass him; he had sent people to track her, but had never succeeded, not even when he tried himself.

Bai Qi was unconcerned, instead turning to the icy White Lotus. “Have you confirmed the news this time?”

“Yes. Liu Bei has led his army to Northern Wei City.” Her voice was alluring, but carried a cold indifference, as if she were an emotionless automaton.

“Good. Tonight is the day Han falls. Attend me!”

At his command, two soldiers entered the tent. “General, your orders?” they said, fixing their gaze on the black-clad assassin.

“Notify all commanders. In fifteen minutes, the entire army must be prepared, and assemble in my tent for council.”

“Understood.”

“What are you planning?” the assassin asked, puzzled.

“You’ll know soon enough.”

Fifteen minutes later, dozens crowded into the tent, which seemed spacious but was now filled to capacity.

“In these past days, I’ve suffered many defeats. I know you’re all frustrated. But remember, we only need to win one battle; the rest, win or lose, matter little. Today, we must be serious. All three lords of Han are gathered nearby at Northern Wei City. If we win this battle, Han will be finished.” Bai Qi outlined his plan calmly, ignoring the astonishment of those present.

“General, what are you suggesting?” someone asked.

“Today, the whole army will attack Northern Wei City. I will lead from the front.”

One of Bai Qi’s former commanders realized what this meant. “General, you plan to fight personally? What about the Qin cavalry?”

Bai Qi looked to the two cavalry commanders. “Ying Zhengqin, commander of the First Legion; Wu Zhan, commander of the Seventh Legion—take ten thousand cavalry each and flank Northern Wei City from the south and north, ambushing Cao Cao, Liu Bei, and any others who try to escape.”

“General Bai, you’re sending all the elite cavalry to ambush. Do you really believe less than a hundred thousand ordinary troops can defeat Cao Cao’s hundred thousand elite and force them into retreat?” Ying Zhengqin, a sensible commander, voiced his doubts. No matter Bai Qi’s fame, he could not believe such a battle was possible.

“You think being the son of the Qin Emperor entitles you to question my decisions?” Bai Qi replied coldly.

“It’s not about my parentage. I simply believe this strategy is unsound. If we are to launch an assault, let the Qin cavalry lead the charge.”

Bai Qi nodded, recalling, “I remember someone else doubted me once. His name was Zhu Long, wasn’t it? A fine soldier, but too soft-hearted. That’s why his entire force was wiped out.”

The name Zhu Long resurfaced in everyone’s mind. That battle could only be described as tragic. To Ying Zhengqin and Wu Zhan, Zhu Long was a heroic martyr; though he perished, the Qin cavalry would always remember such a commander.

When Bai Qi received news of Zhu Long’s death, he was surprised but showed no regret, leaving only a phrase that had long caused Ying Zhengqin deep resentment.

Then, Bai Qi put down the battle report and remarked coolly, “The weak are always weak. No matter how hard they try, they cannot escape their fate.” To Bai Qi, defeat and death equated to weakness; only the weak could not control their destiny.

But to Ying Zhengqin, these words were an insult to warriors. Unlike his gentle elder brother or beloved third brother, his temperament was much more direct. The Qin Emperor once said: “My second son is brave, resolute, and responsible, but his nature is overly blunt, lacking in imperial wisdom—fit to be a general, not a king.”

At that moment, Ying Zhengqin felt antipathy toward Bai Qi, and had often argued with him in council.

Bai Qi looked around and said, “If you understand, go prepare. At midnight, we attack the city.” Ignoring Ying Zhengqin’s protests, he strode out of the tent.

“What should we do, Zhengqin?” Wu Zhan asked anxiously, knowing Ying Zhengqin was the supreme commander of the Qin cavalry.

Though anger smoldered in Ying Zhengqin’s eyes, he knew this was not the time for discord. “We’ll move together, but slow our march. If the battle turns against us, we’ll reinforce the main force immediately.” Gritting his teeth, he followed Bai Qi’s orders.

Meanwhile, in Northern Wei City, Cao Cao was in the main hall, welcoming Liu Bei, who had just arrived with his army. Liu Bei had always been Cao Cao’s greatest threat. By bringing his troops to Cao Cao’s territory, he had conceded Cao Cao the advantage.

“Xuande, it’s been a long time,” Cao Cao said, extending his hand for a firm shake.

Liu Bei knew this visit was risky, but for the sake of the Han dynasty, he had come to Northern Wei City to stand with Cao Cao against the Qin army.

“The Prime Minister is right. Since our gathering over plum wine, it’s been ten years, hasn’t it?”

Cao Cao nodded. “Yes, we were both so young then.” He looked past Liu Bei, searching for a familiar figure, but found none.

“Xuande, didn’t Yunchang come with you?”

“No, my second brother remained behind with the troops in Shu Han City. The Tang kingdom has been restless lately, but I brought all my White Turban troops.”

“Yes, there’s no peace anywhere in the realm these days. It’s a pity Yunchang couldn’t join us. But with your battle-hardened White Turban soldiers, our chances are much improved.” Though disappointed, Cao Cao masked it with cheer, knowing Liu Bei had brought all his strength.

“Big brother, you’re finally here! I’ve missed you so much!” A burly, dark-skinned man called out, running over.

Seeing him, Liu Bei smiled. “Third brother, you’ve had a hard time.”

Zhang Fei laughed. “No worries! I’ve been living well—meat to eat, fights to pick—just can’t drink.”

“You, eh? Once we win, I’ll drink with you.”

“Big brother, you’d better keep your word. I’ll drink every last drop in your cellar.”

Liu Bei looked helplessly at his boisterous third brother, but their reunion eased his anxious heart.

“Xuande, come, let’s continue our conversation inside.”