Deputy Banner Master Bai Chuan gave him a stern look, then ignored him.

Deputy Banner Master Chang Chuan drawled, “Just the other day, someone was saying that we were dead for sure this time and we should all run for our lives!”

“There’s nothing I hate more than a coward undermining army morale before a battle!” Luo Jie spoke with indignation, as if it had nothing to do with him, “He had better hope I don’t catch him, or I will hang him on the spot!”

“Are you suffering from memory loss?! I’m talking about you!”

“Huh? When did I say something like that?” He turned to Bai Chuan, “Surely, he is talking about you?”

Bai Chuan watched emotionlessly at the two love rivals throwing jabs at each other, and turned his horse around. “I will go check if the Banner Master has any new orders for us.”

…

Twenty thousand black riders stood in formation quietly on top of the hill, without even a whisper. There was only the distant rattle of the retreating Demon army, and the deep hum of the wind sweeping over the plain of Heng Chuan with a whoosh, as though the souls of the dead were unwilling to depart from the place of their final demise.

A warrior fully clad in silver stood high up on the peak of the hill, his majestic stature and upright torso eliciting the kind of respect reserved only for the commanding officer of an army. Shining silver glinted on his armor as the dusk fell upon him. In the midst of the sea of black riders, he was as bright as the Gods themselves. Anyone who saw his plating would know that was the emblematic silver armor of the youngest —and the most legendary— of the “Three Young Generals of House ZiChuan”, ZiChuan Xiu.

Yet, when Bai Chuan saw, from a distance, the one who had the utmost respect of the entire Far Eastern Army, she only let out a soundless sigh.

She hurried her mount closer while scanning around herself: all those standing guard were the Banner Master’s personal guards. She whispered, “Gu Lei! Are you crazy?! How dare you wear Master Xiu’s armor and impersonate him?!”

“ZiChuan Xiu,” (Captain of the Personal Guard —Gu Lei) answered, his face full of chagrin and fatigue, “Officer Bai Chuan,” he complained. “I don’t want to do it either. Master Xiu insisted that I dress up like this and stand here... The armor is very heavy. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I have already run three warhorses to exhaustion…”

“The battle is still rampant! What is Master Xiu doing?!”

“He just took a shower at the base camp, barbecued some meat, and is now sleeping,” replied Gu Lei.

“Did he leave any instructions?”

“Ah, yes.” Gu Lei remembered. “He said that if we were losing, we should make sure to wake him up immediately so we can all run for our lives.”

…

Bai Chuan spotted ZiChuan Xiu’s tent underneath the shade. Inside the tent, a man wrapped in a sleeping bag snored rhythmically, “Zzz, Zzz.”

“Sir, could you please wake up?” Bai Chuan urged. But the one in the sleeping bag did not even flinch. She sighed in defeat, “Sir, I’m afraid you leave me with no choice.”

With that, she left the tent, only to return with a bottle of boiling water in her hand: “I will count up to three,” she threatened. “One, two… And three!”

“Okay, fine. I surrender. I’m awake.”

A man stuck his head out of the sleeping bag, squinting. His face was still asleep. A pretty handsome young lad nonetheless —or, more accurately, a boy, if judged by his childish smile.

“What’s the emergency?” He yawned. “Are the Demons here?”

After some thought, Bai Chuan replied, “Not yet.”

“Have the soldiers mutinied?”

“They will eventually, when they find out you have been fooling them with a fake,” She answered.

“I will worry about it when it happens,” he grumbled. “And the officers? All acting like kids over something so insignificant. So, did Luo Jie and Chang Chuan fight a duel over you and die?”

“Sadly, both of them are still hanging onto their shameless lives. The truth is, we won, and the Demons are retreating.”

ZiChuan Xiu looked surprised, “Really? That was unexpected. We actually won?” He stuffed his head back into the sleeping bag, “Let me think on it.”

Bai Chuan waited… and waited… Until the snoring sound came once again from inside the sleeping bag, “Zzz, Zzz.”

Bai Chuan snapped at last, and poured the bottle of boiling water on top of the sleeping bag.

“Aaaaaiieee!”

Imperial Calendar Year 778: A shrieking cry let out by the victor of the third battle of Heng Chuan was not recorded in the history books.