Chapter 64: Ambush (Part 2)

  "Sir, run for it!" The guard's shout was heart-wrenching.

  Amur's eyes were bloodshot as he looked around, the outer ring of torches suppressing the ferry crossing, the Tumet people's battle cries echoing across the fields.

  Two months of continuous fleeing had destroyed the morale of the Chahar people, and with Lin Dan Khan already having crossed the river, the Chahar cavalry lost heart and fled in all directions.

  The situation is already set, Amur let out a long sigh, turned his horse's head and led his followers to retreat in the direction of the Yellow River.

  The Jinzhou ferry terminal became a hell for the Chahar people, the Tumote people only knew how to kill, killing in silence, killing in shouting, they wanted to return all the grievances of destroying their homes to the Chahar people. The herdsmen were panicked and suppressed towards the Yellow River bank.

  The road ahead was crowded with people, "Make way!" A bodyguard cut down a herdsman who blocked the way in front, Amur's lips moved, but ultimately didn't speak.

  "Fire!" Kridler's voice was hoarse.

  The bowstring rings out, and a long arrow flies towards the rolling Yellow River. Where there is sound, that's where the target is.

  Under the banner of Che Feng, the Tumed cavalry was like a mad tiger, and the repression and pain in their hearts burst out. Those people had all lost their families in the war of Chahar's westward migration. But even if they killed all the Chahars, what they had lost could never be regained.

  There were no captives, only the corpses scattered all over the ground and the miserable cries in the midst of the Yellow River's waves. The Chahar cavalry with war horses might still be able to cross the river, but most of the ordinary herdsmen in the dark probably sank to the bottom of the river.

  On the black horse, Zhai Zhe's gaze swept across the battlefield, where corpses lay scattered all over, and the injured Tumet nomads clutched their broken limbs and leaned against the grass, their eyes still hiding a crazed excitement.

  This is war!

  Di Zhe dismounted and walked step by step towards the ferry, with Ji Hong's personal soldiers holding torches surrounding him on both sides. The corpses on the ground occasionally blocked his way. As he got closer to the ferry, the bodies became more densely packed, until there was nowhere to put his feet. Fresh blood flowed under the green grass, converging into a small stream flowing towards the Yellow River, and he didn't notice that his boots had been soaked through.

  A bloody smell also permeated the air!

  "Damn war!" Di Zhe cursed under his breath, only to find himself far from as excited as he had imagined.

  Only sporadic fighting remained in various places, and the Tumed people searched everywhere for surviving Chahar herdsmen.

  Ge Riletu urged his horse to rush over, and from afar, Chao Zhe shouted loudly: "We won!" The flames illuminated his smiling face.

  Di Zhe also raised his hands in celebration. If they couldn't win this battle, then they would be complete idiots.

  The big black horse turned around, and Di Zhe rushed towards the rear. The Han village cavalry blew the horn to retreat first.

  On the southern grassland, a row of torches rushed towards the battlefield. Ulan Princess, who had just arrived, happened to run into Di Zhe.

  "We won!" Ulan shouted loudly, her face looking especially lovely in the firelight.

  "We won!" Di Zhe's right fist struck his own left chest, indicating that he could be relied upon by the Tumet people.

  "This year has been a long time, thank you!" When the two horses intersected, Princess Wulan's voice was soft and gentle. Di Zhe was her reliance when she was most helpless, and now she had finally come to an end of her suffering.

  "Han people and Tumet people are friends!" Zhai Zhe stretched out his right hand.

  Wulan hesitated for a moment before finally extending her right hand.

  His hands lightly grasped, Zhe Zhi felt that the place where his hand entered was icy and smooth, soft as if boneless.

  Wulan's face suddenly flushed for no reason, she withdrew her hand and didn't dare to look at Di Zhe again, urging the horse to rush towards the gathering place of the Tumote cavalry.

  Two hours later, the Junzi River ferry terminal returned to calmness, and no cavalry could be seen.

  A small number of Chahar people who were hiding in the pile of corpses and had not died carefully listened, confirmed that there was no movement before daring to crawl out one by one, calling out their family members' names in a low voice. The dark night saved their lives, but it could no longer save their families, so the cries for help turned into suppressed wails, like the sharp calls of an owl, eerily desolate in the darkness.

  The dark night slowly passed, and when the eastern sky turned white, the tragic scene at Kūnzǐjīn Ferry finally appeared before the world. The remaining Chahar people supported each other, braved the currents of the Yellow River, and went to pursue the footsteps of their tribe.

  Tumed cavalry retreated to the grasslands near Hohhot.

  Until the sky brightened, the herdsmen were still excited. Every Mongolian is a good fighter, but there is a huge difference between untrained herdsmen and seasoned warriors. The Chahar people have been fighting for years, and their tribal warriors have become seasoned veterans. This surprise attack took advantage of the timing, terrain, and human factors to win a big victory.

  "Now the Mongolian steppe is our world!" Gereltu couldn't hide his excitement.

  "It's a woman!" This was the voice of Che Feng behind him, having followed Zhai Zhe for several years, he had a clear view of the situation. Ge Rile Tu's expression was somewhat unnatural, Che Feng had been conferred by Princess Wulan, but he was the Khan's cavalry commander, how could he be so rude to his face?

  Princess Wulan didn't care about their words and ordered: "The tribe can migrate to Tumur River now!"

  After the Chahar people retreated, at least the Mu Nan pasture returned to the Tumet people. The Jurchen people did not live a nomadic life like the Mongols, and they would eventually return to Liaodong.

  "Where is Dahewan?" This was Princess Ulan's last worry.

  The weather remains gloomy with no rain.

  Di Zhe came to bid farewell to Princess Wulan, the Tumet people, men and women, young and old, were all migrating towards Liang City, and the Han cavalry was also returning to the Han camp.

  Goodbye Di Zhe, Wu Lan's expression was not as natural as before. He stretched out his hand to tidy up the disheveled hair on his forehead and said: "The Tumet people thank the Han people for their help!"

  "Please don't forget the Khan's promise back then, Princess!" Zhai Zhe's smile was sly.

  "You will get what's coming to you!"

  More than 20,000 Tumet herders slowly moved eastward, with Princess Ulan's team in the middle of the herdsmen.

  At dusk, a city appeared on the distant horizon, which was the masterpiece of the Tumet people, the largest city on the grassland - Guihua. Ulan Butong gazed into the distance, and Guihua City was as quiet as a ghost town. She finally couldn't help but urge her crimson horse to gallop towards it. Outside the city, everything was in disarray, and the Chahar people had left in a hurry, leaving behind a mess of discarded objects scattered all over the ground.

  The Tumet cavalry had been wandering outside the city for a long time before finally leaving, and this city did not yet belong to the Tumets. They needed to wait, waiting for the real conqueror to hand it over to the Tumets, which was Diyan's advice to Wulan.

  The Han cavalry returned to the Han camp, and each department counted its casualties. The Tumeite horse thieves under Che Feng's command suffered the heaviest casualties.

  "Please punish me severely, Master!" Che Feng knelt down in front of Di Zhe.

  "Never mind, get up!" These horse thieves could not control their hatred when facing the Chahar people.

  Di Zhe thought for a moment and then instructed: "The Tumet tribe has already left, you need to put more thought into leading these people!"

  "Yes!" Che Feng struggled to his feet. There was one thing that could make him blend in with those Tumed horse thieves, and that was hatred for the Chahar people.

  The western part is dry and rainless, the grassland is desolate, after the Chahar people moved away, it's hard to think of restoring prosperity.

  Chiyerhen sighed, "The Chahar people will never come back, and Lin Danhan is truly a madman!" As the nominal Khan of Mongolia, he spent his whole life trying to unify the Mongolian tribes, but in the end, he pushed almost all of them towards the Jurchen people. It seems that sometimes having a sharp knife isn't always a good thing.