Jin Yong - The Book and The Sword

The Muslim units galloped through the night, the Manchus always in sight. The Manchu commander wanted to gain great merit for himself, and many of his cavalry horses died of exhaustion. Towards midnight, they came across General Zhao Wei riding in front of about three thousand wounded. Zhao Wei's hope rose slightly as he saw the Manchu column approach.

"After their success, the enemy will be in a state of unpreparedness," he thought. "So if we attack now, we will be able to turn defeat into victory." He ordered the troops to advance towards the Black River, and after ten miles or so, scouts reported that the Muslim army was camped ahead. Zhao Wei led his commanders onto a rise to view the scene and a chill shook each of them to the bottom of their hearts.

The entire plain was covered in camp fires, stretching seemingly endlessly before them. They heard from far off the shouts of men and the neighing of horses, and they wondered how many warriors the Muslims had mustered. Zhao Wei was silent.

"With such a huge army against us, no wonder…no wonder we have encountered some set-backs," one of the senior military officials, Commander Herda, said.

Zhao Wei turned to the others. "All units are to mount up and retreat south," he ordered. "No-one is to make a sound."

The order was received badly by the troops who had hoped to stop at least long enough for a meal.

"According to the guides, the road south passes the foot of Yingqipan Mountain and is very dangerous after heavy snows," Herda pointed out.

"The enemy's forces are so powerful, we have no choice but to head southeast and try to meet up with General Fu De," Zhao Wei replied.

The remnants of the great army headed south, and found the road becoming more and more treacherous as they went. To the left was the Black River, to the right, the Yingqipan Mountain. The night sky was cloudy and ink-black, and the only light was a faint glow reflecting off the snow further up the mountain slope.

Zhao Wei issued a further order: "Whoever makes a sound will be immediately executed." Most of the soldiers came from Northeast China and knew that any noise could shake loose the heavy snow above them and cause an avalanche that would kill them all. They all dismounted and led their horses along with extreme care, many walking on tip-toe. Three or four miles further on, the road became very steep, but as luck would have it, the sky was by now growing light. The Manchu troops had been fighting and running for a whole day and a night, and there was a deathly expression on the face of each one.

Suddenly, there was a shout from a scout and several hundred Muslim warriors appeared on the road ahead standing behind a number of primitive cannons. Scared out of their wits, the Manchu troops were thrown into confusion and many turned and fled just as the cannons went off with a roar, spraying iron shards and nails into them, instantly killing more than two hundred.

As the boom of the cannon faded, Zhao Wei heard a faint rustling noise, and felt a coldness on his neck as a small amount of snow fell inside his collar. He looked up the mountain side and saw the snow fields above them slowly beginning to move.

"General!" Herda shouted. "We must escape!"

Zhao Wei reined his horse round and started galloping back the way they had come. His bodyguards slashed and hacked at the soldiers in their path, frantically pushing them off the road into the river below as the rumble of the approaching snow avalanche grew louder and louder. Suddenly, tons of snow intermingled with rocks and mud surged down onto the road with a deafening roar that shook the heavens.

Zhao Wei, with Herda on one side and Zhang Zhaozhong on the other, escaped the catastrophe. They galloped on for more than a mile before daring to stop. When they did look back, they saw the several thousand troops had been buried by snow drifts more than a hundred feet thick. The road ahead was also covered in deep snow. Surrounded by such danger and having lost an entire army of forty thousand men in one day, Zhao Wei burst into tears.

"General, let us go up the mountain slope," said Zhang. He picked up Zhao Wei and raced off up the slope with Herda following along behind.

Huo Qingtong, watching from a distant crest, shouted: "Someone's trying to escape! Catch them quickly!" Several dozen Muslims ran off to intercept them. When they saw the three were wearing the uniforms of officials, they rubbed their hands in delight, determined to catch them alive. Zhang silently increased his pace. Despite the weight of Zhao Wei, he seemed to fly across the treacherously slippery slope. Herda could not keep up with him and was cut off by the Muslims and captured after a spirited fight. Apart from Zhao Wei and Zhang, only a few dozen of the Manchu troops survived the avalanche.

Huo Qingtong led the Muslim warriors back to their camp, along with the prisoners. By now, the Muslims had taken the main Manchu camp, thereby acquiring huge supplies of food and weapons. The Four Tigers were among those taken prisoner after being found bound and gagged inside a tent. Chen asked them why they had been put there, and the eldest of the four giants replied: "Because we helped you. General Zhao said he would have us killed after the battle." Chen pleaded before Huo Qingtong to allow the four to go free, and she agreed.

Mournful dirges played as the Muslims dug deep trenches and buried the bodies of the fallen warriors upright and facing west. Puzzled, Chen asked one of the nearby soldiers why the dead were buried in this way.

"Because we believe in Islam," the soldier replied. "If the body is buried upright, then the spirit will ascend to the heavenly kingdom. They face west because that is the direction of sacred Mecca."

When the burials were finished, Muzhuolun led the entire army in prayer to thank Allah for helping them achieve such a great victory. Then a great cheer went up from the ranks and the commanders of all the units went before Huo Qingtong and presented their sabres to her in respect.

"Inflicting such a crushing defeat on the Manchus also does us a great service," 'Leopard' Wei remarked to Xu, but Xu was deep in thought.

"The Emperor made a pact with us, yet he didn't withdraw his forces," he said. "Could it be that he intentionally sent his troops into the desert to be destroyed?"

"I have no faith in this Emperor," said Wen. "How could he know Mistress Huo Qingtong would win so decisively? What's more, I doubt if he sent Zhang Zhaozhong out here for any good purpose."

As the heroes talked, they noticed Chen gazing at Huo Qingtong in concern. She was seated to one side, her face as white as a sheet, with a wild look in her eyes. Luo Bing went over to talk to her and as Huo Qingtong stood up to greet her, she swayed unsteadily. Luo Bing caught hold of her.

"Sister, what's wrong?" she asked. Huo Qingtong said nothing, but fought to control her breathing. Princess Fragrance, Muzhuolun, Chen and the others ran over. Princess Fragrance led her into a tent and laid her down on a carpet.

Muzhuolun knew his daughter was exhausted after the battle which she had both directed and taken part in alongside the other warriors. She had also had to bear the suspicions of her own commanders. But he was afraid that the thing affecting her most was the relationship between Chen and her sister. Unable to think of anything to say to comfort her, he sighed and left the tent. He went for a walk round the camp, and from all sides heard nothing but praise for Huo Qingtong's brilliant strategy.

That night, he slept badly, worrying about his daughter. Early the next day before the sky was light, he went over to her tent to see how she was, but found her tent was empty. He hurriedly asked the guard outside what had happened to her.