Reinforcements and Reduced Provisions

The vanguard of the church army executed an orderly retreat, transforming into the rearguard. The rebel forces, eager to pursue and slaughter them, found their formation shattered by a charge of Templar knights, descending into total chaos. They could only watch helplessly as the church army withdrew with composure.

Peng Tuo, the commander of the rebels, flew into a rage and ordered his main force to surround the Templar camp. However, men on foot could not outrun those on horseback; furthermore, with their lines in complete disarray, the infantry could not halt the high-speed cavalry. They were forced to watch as the Templars whistled through their ranks, piercing the formation from south to north before galloping off in pursuit of the retreating church army.

"Bastards!" Peng Tuo gritted his teeth, itching for revenge. "Quickly reform our ranks and follow me in pursuit!"

By the time the rebels had regrouped, the camp scribe brought Peng Tuo a report that left him stunned.

"In the recent engagement, our army suffered 4,731 deaths and 200 severe injuries. The imperial forces lost 1,242 men."

"What?" Peng Tuo slammed the table and stood up. "Our casualties are four times those of the enemy?"

"That is exactly right!" The scribe was equally perplexed. He had never heard of such fierce imperial soldiers. Fighting against superior numbers in a dire situation, they had managed to retreat calmly while inflicting disproportionately heavy casualties. "Reporting to the General, did you hear the report clearly just now?"

"Hmm?" Peng Tuo snorted coldly. "What do you mean, scribe? Are you questioning my attention to military intelligence?"

The scribe quickly apologized. "I have no such intention, General. I only wished to remind you that I reported '1,242 deaths among the imperial forces.'"

"And what of it?"

"The report says '1,242 dead!' but makes no mention of the wounded. What does this mean?" The scribe handed the report to Peng Tuo.

Peng Tuo snatched it, reading it over and over, his eyes widening. "How? How can there be no wounded?" The imperial troops had retreated in defeat, and naturally, they would have had no time to carry away the injured. Where did the wounded go? The answer was obvious... they were all dead. No wounded... everyone had died. Madmen... they were all madmen. "Where did these troops come from?"

"Reporting to the General, it is unknown. Their banners are strange, bearing neither the commander's surname nor the location of their territory. However, when I was in Jizhou, I heard that the Holy Mother Church in Jinan Kingdom uses a cross pattern as its symbol. The banners of these imperial troops also feature a cross pattern. Presumably, these troops are from Jinan."

"Jinan? Luan Yi?" Peng Tuo narrowed his eyes. Last month, a top-secret report from the Heaven Grand General stated that the rebel commander Zhu Ying had been defeated by Luan Yi and executed. Not long ago, news arrived that the insurgent armies in Qing and Yan provinces had been annihilated by reinforcements led by the Jinan Chancellor, Luan Yi. This Luan Yi has some tricks up his sleeve... he is truly a genius of the Han! Now, he has appeared on the borders of Yuzhou. He must not be allowed to stir up trouble here. "We must crush him before he can secure his footing. Pass on my order: once the troops are assembled, we set off immediately to hunt down the dog Luan Yi."

"Understood..."

However, by the time the Yellow Turban army had reformed its lines, the church forces had long since vanished.

Peng Tuo led his main force along the trail of the march, pursuing them for over two hundred li. After three days and nights, he saw no sign of the enemy. He could only tell from the occasional traces of cooking fires that the church army was still fleeing in that direction. The further they went, the fewer the fire pits; they dwindled from an initial 1,000 to 800, then 600, until just moments ago, only 300 remained. He surmised that their morale must be collapsing, leading to a massive wave of desertions.

Peng Tuo was overjoyed and ordered his men to speed up the march. After another day and night of pursuit, he suddenly felt that something was wrong. He recalled the report from three days prior: the troops led by Luan Yi had suffered only deaths, with no wounded. This proved that the discipline and morale of Luan Yi’s forces were terrifyingly high. How could such an elite army have deserters?

He vaguely remembered seeing a similar tactical example in a book. Which one? He ordered his attendants to bring all his books. It wasn't the *Analects* or the *Great Learning*... it was the *Spring and Autumn Annals*.

The four characters "Spring and Autumn Annals" were printed on a cover made of high-quality paper, and at the bottom, there was a small inscription: "Printed by the Luan Family."

"The Luan family? Luan Yi... it's Luan Yi again." Peng Tuo flew into a rage, tore off the cover, and scanned the contents. "Yes, exactly. Increasing troops and decreasing cooking fires... Luan Yi is using the tactic of decreasing cooking fires." In the *Spring and Autumn Annals*, Sun Bin of the Qi State used this very strategy against Pang Juan of the Wei State. He feigned retreat to lure Pang Juan into a trap, reducing the number of cooking pits daily to make Pang Juan believe the Qi army was suffering from mass desertions. When Pang Juan reached Maling, he found the Qi army lying in ambush. A volley of arrows decimated the Wei forces, leading to their total collapse. Realizing his fate, Pang Juan committed suicide.

Peng Tuo suddenly understood. He felt fortunate to have discovered this in time; otherwise, he would have fallen into Luan Yi’s trap. "This childish trick, now that I have unmasked it, what can he do to me?" Peng Tuo was smug and decided to counter-trick him. He checked the map repeatedly and found a perfect spot for an ambush fifty li to the east—Zhanding Peak, a range of continuous mountains.

Peng Tuo immediately sent out scouts, but the report he received left him bewildered. There was no sign of an ambush in the mountains; not only were there no troops, but even the traces of cooking fires had vanished. The forest was silent, filled only with trees and wildlife, completely devoid of human presence.

Peng Tuo was uneasy and sent his trusted confidants to investigate. The result was the same: no ambush, nothing at all—not even footprints in the forest soil.

Peng Tuo was deeply puzzled. "Nothing? Where did Luan Yi go? Did he grow wings and fly away?"

Unable to solve the mystery, and with Bo Cai sending urgent messages to return to Changshe, he had no choice but to head west and retreat.

On the way back, he remained preoccupied with Luan Yi’s movements. His right eye kept twitching, a bad omen. He couldn't pinpoint why, but he felt an ominous premonition. After thinking for a long time, he laughed at himself, thinking that with a massive army far outnumbering Luan Yi's, he had nothing to fear. He shouldn't scare himself.

Yet, this reassurance only flickered in his mind before anxiety returned to his face. "Where exactly did Luan Yi go? That was nearly ten thousand men! How could they suddenly vanish?"

At night, Peng Tuo tossed and turned in his command tent, unable to sleep. Just then, his sharp ears caught a scream. He sat up on his cot, listening intently. The pitch-black night returned to silence, as if nothing had happened. He shouted to his guard outside the tent, "Peng Jiu, did you hear anything just now?"

"Eh?" Peng Jiu shook his groggy head. "No, sir? I didn't hear a thing!"

"Oh!" Peng Tuo gave a self-deprecating laugh, thinking he had been too stressed lately. Perhaps it was just an owl calling out. "Keep your wits about you!"

"Understood!"

Peng Tuo lay back down, but before he was settled, he heard another "Ah..." This time, not only he but also Peng Jiu outside heard it clearly. "General, we are under attack!"

However, it was already too late. Nearly an hour earlier, Luan Yi had ordered 200 masked death-squad members to scale the walls and infiltrate the rebel camp. At the second watch, they struck, seizing the camp gate. The main force followed, charging into the camp, killing everyone in their path and setting fires everywhere. Screams echoed incessantly.

The rebels, exhausted from days of being led in circles by Zhao Yun—who had been disguised as the main church army—had finally let their guard down upon receiving the order to return. They were fast asleep and had never imagined the imperial forces would strike now. They were caught in complete chaos, and even the night guards were scattered by their own panicked comrades.

"Avenge our fallen brothers! May the Holy Mother protect them..."

Praises to the Holy Mother filled every corner of the camp. Roaring flames engulfed most of the tents, and the sounds of battle were relentless. Under the moonlight, the Yellow Turban camp had become a slaughterhouse for the church defenders. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the earth red as defenders hunted down the rebels.

Outside the main command tent, Peng Tuo, struggling to put on his armor, saw the scene and turned from green to purple. "Waaah! Luan Yi, I swear I will not share the same sky as you. Men, follow me to meet the enemy!"

"General, no..." The camp scribe stepped forward and grabbed Peng Tuo’s reins. He sighed, "The army's morale is broken, and our formation is lost. To fight now is to strike a rock with an egg; it is suicide. You are the pillar of our army, General; you must not die in vain. It would be better to retreat to Changshe and reconsider."

Peng Tuo roared, "Bullshit! If I run, what happens to these fifty thousand brothers?"

"General! Don't worry about the fifty thousand brothers now. There aren't fifty thousand left! If we keep fighting like this, they will all be gone soon!" The scribe wept in desperation. "Run! If we don't go now, even you and I will have no way out!"

Seeing that the situation was truly lost, Peng Tuo ceased his stubbornness. "Very well, I will listen to you this once. Follow me as we break out of the camp!" He turned his horse and charged toward the west.

The remaining thirty guards followed closely, with the scribe tucked among them, fleeing for their lives.

Luan Yi instantly caught sight of this particularly fierce group of horsemen. Through the bright armor of their leader, he immediately identified him as the rebel commander, Peng Tuo. He raised his hammer and gave chase. "Rebel Peng Tuo, where are you running?"