The overall situation can now be settled.

The crescent moon hung in the sky, gazing down with its eternally gentle light upon this ancient fortress in Yunzhong, battered by endless wars. In the silent night, the eastern gate quietly opened. Hundreds of sturdy bulls, their heads shrouded in gray cloth, mouths stuffed, and horns bound with sharp blades, were calmed and led out in single file. Behind them marched ranks of fully armed, high-spirited Red Tiger Cavalry of the Reviving Han Army, their heads held high as they strode purposefully forward.

Because the eastern gate of Yunzhong connected to the Reviving Han Army’s supply route, it had long been under their cavalry’s control; thus, there were no Xianbei scouts here. The strictly guarded Xianbei camp several miles away was oblivious to the unfolding events. Moreover, to ensure the success of this meticulously planned assault, the Red Tiger Cavalry had repeatedly swept the area near the eastern gate in recent days, so much so that Budugen dared not send scouts here anymore. But as Budugen dreamt in his great tent of restoring his lost stronghold, he could never have imagined that tonight would become a nightmare haunting him for the rest of his days.

When the column drew within a mile of the Xianbei camp, the vigilant Xianbei scouts, puzzled by the appearance of a herd of cattle in the dead of night, hurried to report to the main camp. Yet by then, it was already too late to matter to the Reviving Han Army.

The lightly trained bulls were arranged in two lines. Their handlers swiftly cut the ropes tying them, then set their oil-soaked tails alight. As the pain spurred the bulls into a run, archers behind them fired arrows into the rumps of the beasts, goading them further. In an instant, the already frenzied herd, blinded by their coverings, surged forward in a wild, uncontrollable charge—straight toward the Xianbei encampment.

Within the Xianbei camp, blissfully unaware of the approaching doom, all was as peaceful and defenseless as a naïve maiden, about to fall victim to ruthless marauders.

The first flaming bull burst into the Xianbei camp. The nomads, so accustomed to living among cattle, sheep, and horses, were now gripped by utter terror. The fences and barricades, shattered and scattered in the wake of the charging beasts, bore witness to their fragility before this onslaught and the unstoppable force of the maddened herd. The bulls, unable to see, were further agitated by the shouts and cries of the Xianbei, their eyes growing bloodshot, wildly lashing their flaming tails, and stumbling forward with unsteady, desperate hooves.

When the herd, a roaring tide of flame and fury, swept through the miles-long Xianbei camp, those brave warriors who had tried to resist were instantly cowed. Their faces, drained of all color, had no time to recover a hint of life; their trembling bodies instinctively turned to flee. The less fortunate—or the foolishly courageous—were impaled on the glinting blades bound to the bulls’ horns, or trampled beneath the relentless hooves, their screams lost in the chaos.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the once orderly, defensible, and silent Xianbei camp was reduced to a scene of utter carnage: flaming bulls rampaging everywhere, scattered belongings, tents erupting in flames, soldiers shouting and fleeing, wounded men screaming in agony—a chaos beyond words.

Xu Chu, leading several thousand Red Tiger Cavalry, had intended to charge in after the crazed herd for a glorious slaughter. But faced with such pandemonium, his men could only look at each other in astonished dread and, after a pause, wisely held back their urge to join the fray: better to wait until the herd had passed, lest their own ranks be trampled alongside the Xianbei.

Meanwhile, at the appointed time, the Red Tiger infantry of the Reviving Han Army threw open the southern gate of Yunzhong. Under the astonished gaze of the Xianbei scouts, a flood of fully armed soldiers, led by Liao Hua, Chen Dao, and others, surged toward the already shattered Xianbei encampment.

On the city walls, Zhen Yu, gaining military experience with the army, stood beside the visibly excited Wang Bo, both watching the spectacle unfold. As the events reached their climax, Zhen Yu’s eyes shone with admiration and he murmured in awe, “In ancient times, Tian Dan of Qi broke the allied armies of Yan and Zhao with the fire bull formation, saving his homeland. Now, the Reviving Han Army employs fire bulls to assault the Xianbei camp for miles—a masterstroke of military genius! To witness such a battle is a fortune thrice blessed! General, your name will be immortalized in history!”

The wolf smoke that drifted through the night and the sounds of slaughter that echoed for hours finally faded before dawn.

The devastation of the Xianbei camp was laid bare: most tents had burned, nothing remained intact where the fire bulls had passed, and soldiers lay strewn across miles—some naked, some half-armored, some charred black—sprawled in grotesque disarray. The livestock, long accustomed to human care, wandered the outskirts in bewildered herds, bleating for absent masters, while those caught in the flames were reduced to savory roasted mutton.

A hundred paces outside the camp, over ten thousand terrified, soot-stained Xianbei soldiers knelt in disarray, watched by archers who kicked at the slightest movement. Nearby, a large group of cowering Han slaves knelt, their faces blank with confusion.

Thus, Budugen’s newly assembled force of tens of thousands was utterly annihilated. The old man himself escaped swiftly, but with the elite Blue Wolf Cavalry absent, Xu Chu’s furious pursuit was in vain, the remnants vanishing after leading him on a wild chase. According to scouts, fewer than ten thousand demoralized survivors fled, and that only after Budugen managed to regroup scattered men.

From that day, the Xianbei of Yunzhong could no longer hope to challenge the might of the Reviving Han Army. After a long, satisfying sleep, Wang Bo awoke to the jubilant reports of his generals and could not help but sigh in relief, “At last, the Xianbei of Yunzhong are finished.”

Indeed, since the founding of Yunzhong, the Reviving Han Army had been locked in struggle with the Xianbei: nearly thirty thousand slain or captured at Yunu Pass, twenty-five thousand more during the siege of Yunzhong, and now nearly twenty thousand in this night attack. Over seventy thousand skilled Xianbei archers and horsemen had perished or been sent to labor camps. Could there be any fighting men left among the Xianbei?

But something didn’t add up. Wang Bo did a quick calculation and questioned, “Were there really so many Xianbei troops in Yunzhong? According to the records provided by the Inspector of Bingzhou, there were just over a hundred thousand Xianbei in Yunzhong and Wuyuan, including old men, women, and children—not just warriors. And there should also be tens of thousands of Fulohan tribesmen near Beiyu and Wuquan, right?”

Liao Hua considered, then replied, “My lord, the Xianbei cavalry must have had help from the Southern Xiongnu. Allow us to investigate further, and we will uncover the truth.”

Indeed, after several Han slaves identified the dead, they found not a few Xiongnu among the enemy soldiers, and even some Western Qiang. Among the Xianbei dead, wounded, and captured, there were many young children. When the generals had finished their inspection, they laughed heartily and congratulated Wang Bo, “No more worries, my lord! Budugen is at his very end!”

Wang Bo nodded with satisfaction. “Yes, the foundation of our Reviving Han is now secure—the situation is in hand.”

He then issued several orders: the Blue Wolf Cavalry was to return to Yunzhong, ceding the Fulohan territory to Lü Bu’s forces; the Red Tiger Cavalry was to pursue Budugen, who had fled eastward, and be wary of a desperate counterattack with Xiongnu help; Yang Feng was to organize a reserve force in Xinghan City, preparing to fully occupy Yunzhong and its surroundings.

Two days later, as Wang Bo and his advisors discussed how to turn this vast frontier land into the army’s granary, Niu Er arrived with several Xiongnu—envoys sent by Qiangqu, the Chanyu of the Southern Xiongnu.

When Wang Bo heard that Qiangqu had dispatched General Xubu Guduhou to occupy Shanan and Jiling counties, his eyes flashed with anger. But the Xiongnu envoy, sensing trouble, hurriedly knelt and explained.

Qiangqu, upon hearing that the Reviving Han Army was marching on Yunzhong, had sent thirty thousand elite troops to assist. Passing through Shanan, they found the Xianbei forces there depleted and seized the opportunity to occupy both Shanan and Jiling. After detaining all the old and weak, they prepared to march north, but upon learning of the restoration of Yunzhong and Budugen’s defeat, they quickly sent envoys to Wang Bo, asking him to take possession of the counties and promising that Xubu Guduhou would lead his men to Yunzhong to await the army’s orders.

Wang Bo’s anger subsided, realizing that Qiangqu was simply shifting sides now that Budugen was destroyed. He laughed and said, “The Great Chanyu Qiangqu is a true brother and ally of the Reviving Han. Marching north to aid us without even being asked, I am deeply grateful! I will write to the Great Chanyu, promising that after our affairs are settled, we will meet and renew our brotherhood, and that the Reviving Han Army and the Xiongnu will remain friends forever!”

“On behalf of the Great Chanyu, I thank the general for his profound kindness! I will relay your words faithfully,” the envoy replied, bowing and departing.

After sending off the Xiongnu, Wang Bo asked Liao Hua and his officers, “Now that we hold most of Yunzhong, how should we deal with Lü Bu’s forces?”

Liao Hua pondered, “Lü Bu was sent by Inspector Ding to assist, so his presence is legitimate. We might as well observe and avoid conflict. Meanwhile, Budugen, who has fled west to Xianyang, is at his weakest. We should strike swiftly and show no mercy—this is our chance!”

He unrolled a map of Yunzhong and Wuyuan, pointing out, “If we seize Xianyang, we can rely on the Yellow River to the south and the ancient walls of the Yin Mountains to the north, guarding the route of the Western Qiang and other tribes eastward into Yunzhong. This is a defensive stronghold—if we must fight the Southern Xiongnu, the river will shield us. We must not let it slip from our grasp!”

Wang Bo nodded. “You are right. Once the thirty thousand Xiongnu arrive, we will march west to Xianyang and secure Yunzhong for generations.”

Before the Reviving Han Army could prepare for the advance on Xianyang, two waves of messengers arrived in quick succession, leaving Wang Bo both elated and amazed at his sudden good fortune.

The first group was sent by Lü Bu. Their leader was a young, handsome officer whose vigor immediately caught Wang Bo’s attention, prompting an enthusiastic welcome that left the young man flustered. But when he introduced himself, Wang Bo’s smile froze—why would someone so dashing be named Hao Meng? Forcing a smile, Wang Bo listened to Lü Bu’s message, then asked Hao Meng to convey his wish for a meeting, sending him off with little interest.

Lü Bu had already occupied Wuquan, Beiyu, and other parts of Yunzhong, achieving his strategic goals. Perhaps obeying strict orders from Ding Yuan or wishing to avoid conflict, as soon as he heard that the Reviving Han Army had taken Yunzhong city, Lü Bu sent Hao Meng to notify Wang Bo, urging him to take over the counties and announcing that the Bingzhou army would soon withdraw to Yanmen Pass.

As for the Fulohan Xianbei, before Lü Bu could move against them, seeing the situation turn grim, they demonstrated their nomadic instinct to flee when outmatched, slipping across the crumbling frontier wall into the vast steppe overnight.

The second envoy came from the remnants of the Xianbei who had fled west to Xianyang, bearing a humble petition of surrender.

Slightly surprised, Wang Bo inquired further and learned that the elder Budugen, wounded in Yunzhong and facing the near destruction of his tribe, died of grief and rage after coughing blood. On his deathbed, he clutched the hand of his subordinate Daihua Alangni, telling him that if all hope was lost, they should submit to his brother Fulohan or to the Reviving Han Army, but under no circumstances turn to Kebineng, who had brought ruin to the Xianbei.

Daihua Alangni and several tribal leaders deliberated for three days and nights before deciding to pledge allegiance to Xinghan City, swearing never to betray them and begging only for land to sustain their people. Their surrender petition was humble and earnest, offering to hand over all warhorses and disband their soldiers if Wang Bo would treat them kindly.

Overjoyed, Wang Bo called his generals to discuss the news. They, too, were delighted, casting aside their usual solemnity to surround Wang Bo with laughter and cheer. In their elation, many knelt before him, their eyes shining with heartfelt reverence. “My lord, you are heaven-sent! At last, we brothers have a place to call home!” Some were so moved their eyes brimmed with tears.

Moved by the scene, Wang Bo felt his nose sting with emotion. In this age, he realized, the common folk’s desires were simple—just a place to survive. Closing his eyes, he vowed: since fate had cast him into this chaotic world with no hope of return, he would protect these brothers who depended on him for life and death, no matter who threatened them—be it Cao Cao, Liu Bei, Guan Yu, or Zhang Fei.

Amid the celebrations that turned Yunzhong into a sea of joy, Wang Bo suddenly remembered his duties. He called Liao Hua, Chen Dao, Zhen Yu, and others for a meeting, though everyone was still distracted with happiness. They quickly decided to send the steady Liao Hua with five thousand Red Tiger troops to relieve Lü Bu’s forces in Beiyu, and to dispatch reserve troops from Wujin County to strengthen the defenses, ensuring that the tribes would be held beyond Yunzhong.

As for the Xianbei envoys from Xianyang, Wang Bo chose not to make things difficult. He replied to Daihua Alangni: “Since you sincerely wish to surrender, the Reviving Han Army is not bloodthirsty. In a few days, I will come in person to discuss matters.” He then sent the returning Blue Wolf Cavalry to monitor the situation.

After these arrangements, Wang Bo let out a long breath, unable to suppress his smile, and enjoyed his first good sleep since leaving Yunzhong Commandery. He slept soundly until late morning, waking refreshed to find Zhen Yu waiting in his tent with a look that suggested he had something to say.

Wang Bo rose, washed, and ate while talking with Zhen Yu.

Zhen Yu gathered his thoughts and spoke carefully, “Now that Yunzhong is pacified, our top priority should be to reassure the tribes and focus on production. We have not yet assigned officials to the counties. While the Reviving Han Army has many brave warriors, it seems we lack capable administrators. After all, governing is not the same as waging war. What are your plans, General?”

Wang Bo immediately set aside his meal, pushed away the dishes, wiped his mouth, and replied with a bitter smile, “Alas, our Reviving Han Army is full of bold warriors, but we sorely lack those versed in governance and the people’s welfare. What can be done about this?”