Chapter 1

The rain was still falling.

Chen Qing reached out to catch some rainwater, washing away the brain matter and pus that had stuck to his eyes. With all his strength, he pushed aside several corpses and crawled out from the pile of bodies.

Dizzy and weak in the legs, Chen Qing still gritted his teeth and stood up.

"Where am I?"

Chen Qing only remembered the moment when the drug traffickers' truck crashed into him...

But now? A gray, misty rain enveloped the land, and all around was an endless sea of corpses and blood. Beneath his feet were countless severed limbs and split skulls, with white brain matter flowing everywhere.

Human and horse corpses were intertwined, bloodied and mangled, layer upon layer, indistinguishable from each other.

Blood and rain mixed together, with piles of entrails and intestines hanging from broken weapons, the stench of blood and death permeating the air, impossible to wash away even by the rain.

Not far away, a horse with its front legs severed lay in a pool of blood, its eyes filled with sorrow as it looked at Chen Qing.

Chen Qing couldn't believe what he was seeing. Could this... be hell?

"Corporal Chen, save me!"

A weak voice came from behind.

Chen Qing turned around and saw a thin hand protruding from a pile of corpses, moving slightly.

Chen Qing hurriedly moved the bodies. He didn't know where he got the strength, but he managed to drag a warhorse's body away and then moved three more corpses. He was panting heavily, unable to straighten his back.

The person calling for help was a young boy, about sixteen or seventeen years old, lying helplessly in the blood like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

Seeing the boy's body, Chen Qing's heart sank to the bottom.

The boy had been impaled by a spear through his abdomen and pinned to the ground.

The boy was barely breathing, his voice growing weaker. "Corporal, save me!"

He called him "Corporal," and Chen Qing suddenly realized that this wasn't hell; it was a battlefield...

Chen Qing quickly grabbed the boy's hand and shouted, "Tell me, what year is it, and where am I?"

The boy's weak eyes suddenly brightened, a glimmer of surprise flashing in them. This was his last chance, a moment of clarity before death. He struggled to say, "Jianyan fourth year..."

"Ah!"

Chen Qing was stunned. The fourth year of Jianyan, that was when the Northern Song Dynasty had just fallen.

"Hold on, stay strong!"

Chen Qing slowly lifted the boy out of the pile of bodies. The boy's head drooped, and he had already stopped breathing.

...

Mud and blood mixed together, making every step slippery. Chen Qing used a broken spear as a cane and stumbled through the pile of bodies.

Suddenly, a warhorse's neigh came from behind.

Turning around, he saw a cavalryman in iron armor, his helmet resembling two banana peels inverted with horns on top, about fifty paces away in the misty rain.

He carried a long sword and a spear, with an axe on his back. His cold eyes pierced through the rain, like a leopard that had spotted its prey, ruthless and fierce.

Under the horse's neck and on both sides of the saddle hung several human heads. The tall warhorse snorted, its iron hooves pounding the ground.

Chen Qing suddenly understood; this must be a Jurchen cavalryman.

He turned and ran, and the Jurchen cavalryman let out a sharp cry, chasing after him on horseback.

In a moment, Chen Qing was caught up by the horse. The Jurchen cavalryman grinned cruelly, raised his spear high, and thrust it fiercely at Chen Qing's back.

Chen Qing wasn't a first-time killer. He had faced countless ruthless drug lords and had the calmness of a mountain and the sharpness of a leopard.

He dodged the spear with a side flip.

The Jurchen cavalryman's spear missed, and with the force of the thrust, it pierced into the iron scale armor of a Song army general's corpse with a "crack!"

The Jurchen cavalryman tried to pull the spear back, but the spearhead was stuck in the armor.

The opportunity came and went in an instant. Chen Qing seized it, grabbing the broken spear and thrusting it fiercely.

The rain blurred the Jurchen cavalryman's vision, and he didn't notice or realize that the prey was counterattacking.

"Thud!"

The sharp spear pierced through the Jurchen cavalryman's iron armor and into his back.

The Jurchen cavalryman let out a scream, turned his horse, and fled, disappearing into the misty rain.

Chen Qing was completely exhausted, sitting down in the mud, every muscle in his body aching, causing his body to convulse in pain...

After resting for half an hour, he regained some strength.

Chen Qing stood up, turned the headless general's body over, and stripped the iron scale armor from him.

Chen Qing took off his heavy leather armor, wiped the rain from his face, and carefully put on the iron scale armor.

Actually, in close combat, both types of armor were about the same, neither protecting the neck or head, but the iron scale armor gave him a bit more sense of security.

Chen Qing found a package of dry cakes in the general's pocket and stuffed it into his own.

He also saw a copper badge on the general's waist and tore it off.

"Ugh—"

Suddenly, a deer horn horn sounded in the distance. Chen Qing felt the shadows of cavalrymen moving in the distance, and he was startled, running north.

...

As dawn approached, the rain grew heavier. Chen Qing finally left the battlefield.

At this moment, Chen Qing unexpectedly encountered four other Song army soldiers who had also survived by chance.

The four men looked at Chen Qing uneasily. The iron scale armor on his body made them misunderstand.

The misunderstanding wasn't important; what was important was that they needed a leader.

"Call me Corporal Chen!"

Chen Qing's voice was calm. He didn't understand the Song Dynasty military system, but he remembered that in "Water Margin," there was a Lu Yuhou, who seemed to be a low-ranking officer.

"Corporal Chen, where should we go?"

The four drenched soldiers looked at him expectantly.

"I'm a bit confused. Where are we now?"

"In Fuping County!"

Chen Qing's mind flashed with the memory of the "Battle of Fuping."

In the fourth year of Jianyan, the Jurchen army attacked Sichuan and Shaanxi, and over 200,000 Song troops engaged in a decisive battle with several thousand Jurchen troops led by Wanyan Lou Shi in Fuping County, Guanzhong. The Song army suffered a crushing defeat, with tens of thousands of soldiers dying on the battlefield.

They were the survivors of those tens of thousands of fallen soldiers.

Chen Qing suddenly realized he should head south, not north. The main Song army had retreated toward Sichuan.

But now, he had no choice. A few low, deep deer horn horns sounded from a distance, and they had been spotted by Jurchen scouts.

"Run!"

Chen Qing led the four Song soldiers toward a forest to the north.

Three Jurchen scouts galloped toward them from the side, their faces fierce, holding sharp axes, getting closer and closer. They were about a hundred paces from the forest, but the cavalry was only twenty paces away.

"Stop running!" Chen Qing shouted, stopping in his tracks.

"Since we're going to die anyway, let's fight them!"

He raised his spear and roared, "Kill—"

Chen Qing charged fearlessly toward the approaching Jurchen cavalry.

The four Song soldiers were stunned by Chen Qing's determination. The oldest soldier suddenly raised his spear and shouted, "Let's fight them!"

The four Song soldiers followed, charging forward.

The Jurchen scouts were the elite scouts of the Jurchen army, each one strong and skilled, especially in archery and horseback riding. Unfortunately, the heavy rain had soaked their bowstrings, making them too soft to use.

The lead Jurchen scout saw the few Song soldiers charging at him, a look of arrogance on his face. He sneered, put away his axe, and took out his spear, accelerating his horse and thrusting it at the enemy.

Chen Qing charged forward, but suddenly disappeared from the Jurchen scout's sight. The scout's spear missed, and he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right rib, causing him to scream and fall off his horse.

Before he hit the ground, Chen Qing thrust his spear into the scout's temple, killing him instantly.

Chen Qing swung his spear and faced another Jurchen scout.

The four Song soldiers were invigorated, surrounding the Jurchen scout. In a moment, they had brought down the horse and the scout, and the four soldiers pounced, hacking the scout to pieces.

The Jurchen scout who was fighting Chen Qing saw the situation and turned to flee, blowing his horn for help.

"Ugh! Ugh!"

Chen Qing threw his spear, which drew a parabolic arc and pierced the enemy's body from behind, the tip emerging from the chest. The momentum of the throw brought the Jurchen scout off his horse, impaling him on the ground.

The four soldiers cheered at the impressive strike.

Suddenly, a responding horn sounded from the south, and the newly captured horse broke free from Liu Wu's hand, galloping toward the sound.

"Corporal, they're coming!" Zhao Xiaoyi pointed in fear.

Through the misty rain, over a hundred Jurchen cavalrymen were charging from the south, a terrifying sight.

"Run!"

Chen Qing threw down his spear and led the four men into a mad dash toward the forest.