Xing Honglang charged forward with the cavalry, but she quickly realized that when it came to fighting on horseback, she was basically a passenger.
She knew how to ride a horse, sure—but "cavalry combat" was a whole different beast. Up ahead, Zao Ying was skewering bandits like she was practicing on hay bales, but when Xing Honglang pulled her saber, she realized she had no idea how to actually swing the damn thing at full gallop without falling off or pulling a muscle.
"Fine," she muttered, "specialized skills for specialized people. To hell with this, I'm going in on foot."
She braced her hands on the saddle and launched herself into the air.
Jumping off a moving horse is a great way to break your neck, but she didn't flinch. She hit the ground with a heavy thud, tucked into a few rolls to kill the momentum, and snapped back up to her feet like a coiled spring.
The second she stood up, she saw the bandit leader—Little Zhang Bao—scrambling up from his own roll. They ended up nose-to-nose.
"Dammit, it's just a woman!" Little Zhang Bao roared, thrusting his spear straight at her face.
Xing Honglang tilted her head, letting the tip whistle past her ear. She took one explosive step forward, cutting deep into his inner circle. At this range, a long spear is just an awkward stick. Little Zhang Bao knew it, too—he ditched the spear and reached for the blade at his hip.
They traded three or four quick slashes, steel clashing against steel.
But in the few seconds it took them to dance, Little Zhang Bao's men were having a catastrophic afternoon. Zao Ying and her former horse thieves tore through the command post like a gale force wind. Hand-crossbows, spears, and sabers turned the area into a meat grinder. Within moments, there wasn't a single man left standing in the bandit's rear.
One bandit captain screamed, "Fall back and help the boss!"—right before a spear tip erupted from his chest.
The bandits at the front lines, currently busy jabbing at monks and villagers at the temple walls, finally noticed the screaming behind them. The army buckled. Half the mob started running back to save the boss, while the other half was still stuck in the fight.
The whole force snapped in two.
The guys at the front only realized how bad things were when they heard the collective shout from the back. They turned their heads just in time to see Xing Honglang's saber open a window in Little Zhang Bao's throat. Blood sprayed six feet into the air.
The bandit army let out a collective "Nope."
The formation disintegrated instantly as everyone started running for their lives.
Zao Ying yelled, "Honglang, get back on your horse! They're swarming back this way—you'll get buried if you stay on the ground!"
Luckily, Xing Honglang's horse was smarter than most people; it had looped back around and was waiting nearby. She vaulted into the saddle and galloped back to Zao Ying's side, putting some distance between them and the retreating mob.
A group of bandits crowded around Little Zhang Bao's cooling corpse, wailing. "Oh God, the Young Master is dead!"
"Someone tell the Big Boss!"
"Where the hell did these riders come from?"
"Chase them down! Kill them for the Young Master!"
They talked a big game, but trying to chase warhorses on foot is a special kind of stupid. Zao Ying and Xing Honglang were already a hundred yards away before the bandits even finished their shouting match. Even their bows couldn't reach that far.
The cavalry troop stopped just out of range, turning back to watch the chaos with cold eyes.
One bandit finally mustered the courage to scream across the field: "Who the hell are you bastards? You got names, or are you just cowards?"
Xing Honglang's voice boomed across the dirt: "I don't change my name for anyone! I'm Xing Honglang of Yongji! Remember it while you're bleeding out!"
"Xing Honglang of Yongji?"
"I've heard of her... she's the big salt smuggler from around here."
"Why the hell is a salt smuggler hitting us? We're all rebels! We should be sticking it to the government together!"
Xing Honglang spat on the ground. "This is my turf. Anyone who burns or loots here gets their entire family tree chopped down. Eighteen generations of 'em."
One bandit, clutching the leader's body, screamed back: "Don't get cocky, you bitch! You're just a smuggler with fifty horses. If you had the guts to stop running and fight us like a man, we'd tear you into a thousand pieces!"
The words had barely left his mouth when the horizon turned into a wall of dust. The rest of Zao Ying's cavalry regiment had arrived. They hadn't known where Pujiu Temple was, so they'd picked up Tie Niaofei to act as their GPS.
Tie Niaofei was riding at the very front, dressed in his fine merchant silks, looking incredibly smug. Behind him were 250 more riders, a massive wave of muscle and steel. Tie Niaofei was clearly enjoying the "big entrance" vibes.
He trotted up to Xing Honglang, grinning ear to ear. "I have to admit, riding with this many horses feels incredible. Seriously, I want my own squad now. Where do you guys even get these? Can you sell me some? Name your price!"
Nobody answered him.
The riders immediately ignored the merchant and formed up behind Zao Ying, taking the wind right out of Tie Niaofei's sails.
The bandit who had just been bragging about "tearing her to pieces" watched the 250 new riders arrive. His face went from red to a very sickly grey. He didn't say another word—he just grabbed the body and started hauling ass to the north.
Zao Ying let out a cold snicker. "Talk big and then run? Not on my watch. Boss Xing, go find your old neighbors and catch up. I'm going to go play with these idiots for a bit."
Xing Honglang cupped her hands. "Do it."
Zao Ying kicked her horse into a gallop. "Cavalry! On me! Let's see how fast these 'tough guys' can actually run!"
Three hundred riders roared their approval and thundered off in pursuit.
Xing Honglang finally turned to Tie Niaofei and jerked her head toward the temple. "Come on. Let's head inside."
Tie Niaofei shrugged. "I acted as a guide for your army and didn't get a single tip. Boss Xing, don't you think my services deserve at least a little something?"
Xing Honglang looked at him. "You call yourself 'Tie Niaofei of Hedong,' right? Are you seriously asking for a paycheck to help out your own Hedong neighbors?"
Tie Niaofei muttered, "Well, a single penny would be nice for the principle of it..."
Xing Honglang laughed, pulled out a copper coin, and flicked it. It spun through the air in a blur. Tie Niaofei snatched it out of the sky and beamed. "Perfect. Payment received in full. To the temple!"
The two of them slowly approached the gates.
The people inside Pujiu Temple had seen the whole thing from their high vantage point. They knew these were their saviors, and they had the gates thrown wide open before the horses even arrived.
A crowd from Sunjia Village poured out to meet them. "It's Xing Honglang! It's our own Xing Honglang!"
"Honglang, it's been years! Where have you been?"
"You showed up just in time! We were done for without you."
Aside from the Sunjia locals, refugees from other villages stood further back, whispering. "Who is she? The Sunjia folks act like she's a celebrity."
"That's the big salt boss. You haven't heard of her? Anyone who spends time outside knows her name."
"I don't 'spend time outside,' I'm a farmer. I just know how to grow cabbage."
Trivia :
In the novel you're reading, you noticed Xing Honglang struggle with horse combat. That's because it's incredibly difficult.
Leg Control: True cavalrymen didn't use their hands to steer. Their hands were busy with spears and sabers. They steered the horse entirely with their thighs and weight shifts.
The "Couched" Lance: In the medieval era, knights learned to tuck the lance under their arm (the "couch"). This transferred the entire weight of the horse into the tip of the spear. If the spear hit you, it wasn't just the man stabbing you; it was 1,500 lbs of horse.
Horse as a Weapon: Warhorses were trained to be aggressive. They were taught to kick, bite, and trample. A trained stallion would actively strike out at infantry with its front hooves (a move called levade) to crush skulls and shields.
Historical & Evolution
The Stirrup Revolution: The invention of the stirrup changed world history. Before stirrups, riders could easily be knocked off their horses. Stirrups acted like an "anchor," allowing the rider to stand up, lean into a strike, and deliver massive force without falling off.
The Mongol "Double Bow": Mongol horse archers were the peak of horse skill. They would fire their arrows at the exact moment all four of the horse's hooves were off the ground. This ensured the horse's vibration didn't ruin their aim.
The "Destrier": In European history, a "Destrier" wasn't a breed, but a job title. It meant a "Great Horse" specifically trained for war. They were often incredibly expensive—equivalent to a modern-day fighter jet.
Why They Dominated for 3,000 Years
Until the invention of the machine gun and effective trench warfare (WWI), the horse was the undisputed king of the battlefield for three main reasons:
Shock: The ability to break an enemy's spirit instantly.
Mobility: The ability to choose when and where to fight.
Pursuit: This is what you saw with Zao Ying in the last chapter. Once an enemy starts running, they can't outrun a horse. Most casualties in ancient battles happened after one side turned to flee and the cavalry "mowed them down."