I, Am a Living Yama; Empress Advises Me to Stay Calm
Chapter 157

Chapter 157

If Jie Li Khan hadn’t given him most of the cavalry, Gomohan might never have caught up with the Great Zhou soldiers.

His expression darkened. “How many troops have the various tribes mobilized?”

A Turkish deputy general quickly replied, “Currently, about fifty thousand.”

Gomohan narrowed his eyes and let out a cold snort. “Those bastards. Only fifty thousand?”

He knew the truth. The tribes had grown resentful—Jie Li Khan had been waging war against Great Zhou for years without success, and their inability to sell sheepskins had further soured their loyalty. Many tribesmen had become defiant, hesitant to risk their lives for a cause that seemed increasingly doomed.

If they failed this time, the entire Turkic Khanate could collapse. The Khan’s rule would be finished.

The weight of that realization pressed on Gomohan, but he quickly steeled himself.

“Order the tribal forces to regroup immediately. Have them surround the enemy at Mount Udegen. If possible, I want them taken alive.”

“Yes, General.” The scout swiftly retreated.

…

A few days later, as snowflakes swirled in the biting wind, a soldier approached Guo Jingzhi and bowed. “General, we have entered Mount Udegen.”

Guo Jingzhi wiped the frost from his eyebrows, his gaze sweeping over the vast, snow-covered mountain. He licked his chapped lips.

“Up the mountain!”

Finding a Turkish guide had been Yang Xiang’s idea, and as it turned out, an invaluable one. With the guide’s help, they had reached Mount Udegen with ease, even leaving misleading tracks to confuse the enemy about their numbers.

Half a day later, Guo Jingzhi stood at the summit, his breath visible in the frigid air.

“General, we’ve reached the peak,” a deputy general reported.

Guo Jingzhi nodded. He had divided his troops into two groups—one, over ten thousand strong, lay hidden on the other side of the Turkish royal court, while he led several thousand cavalrymen to lure the enemy into their trap.

He turned to his men. “Have the explosives been buried?”

A soldier saluted. “General, all the charges have been placed at the mountain’s base.”

Guo Jingzhi glanced at the thick snow, then suddenly smiled. “Are you afraid?”

The soldiers stiffened before grinning.

“To die for our country? Never.”

Guo Jingzhi’s tone remained calm. “This mission is incredibly dangerous. I don’t know if we’ll survive.”

His voice grew firmer. “But I do know that these Turks are finished. This battle will go down in history, and after today, our names will be known throughout the world.”

He raised his fist high. “Long live Great Zhou!”

The soldiers roared in unison. “Long live Great Zhou!”

…

Another half-day passed, and night fell over Mount Udegen. Under the black sky, the mountain loomed like a dagger poised to strike.

A scout ran up, breathless, white mist spilling from his mouth. “General, the enemy has begun ascending the mountain!”

Guo Jingzhi inhaled deeply, the cold air piercing his lungs and banishing any lingering exhaustion.

He made his final decision. “Signal the men halfway up the mountain. Prepare to detonate the charges.”

His deputy general responded firmly. “Yes, General.”

Guo Jingzhi then turned to his remaining troops, his expression solemn. “Prepare to move.”

The soldiers responded in unison. “Yes, General.”

They moved swiftly toward the waiting cowhide gliders. The makeshift wings looked flimsy—too fragile to trust—but they were the only chance they had.

Guo Jingzhi stared at them, clenching his jaw.

Yang Xiang swore these things could help them escape, but could they really?

Even as he braced himself for death, fear surged through him. He exhaled sharply and reached for the backpack strapped to his shoulders—another of Yang Xiang’s preparations. It contained survival supplies, signal fireworks, food, and water, all meant to help them regroup after their escape.

Suddenly—

Whoosh!

A firework streaked into the sky, blazing brightly against the darkness.

Guo Jingzhi’s grip tightened. No more hesitation.

“Move!”

He leaped onto a glider and sprinted toward the cliff. Behind him, his soldiers followed, their determination unwavering.

As they launched into the air, a deafening explosion erupted behind them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The ground shook violently. The buried explosives ignited in a chain reaction, shattering the silence of Mount Udegen.

The thick layers of snow, frozen for centuries, roared to life. The avalanche began—an unstoppable force of nature.

The white abyss surged downward like an ocean wave, swallowing everything in its path. Boulders cracked and tumbled. Ancient trees snapped like twigs. The entire mountainside collapsed in a churning, merciless torrent of ice and death.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

At the base of the mountain, Gomohan and his men had just begun their ascent. Then, the earth trembled beneath them.

His soldiers froze. A terrifying realization dawned on them as they turned their gaze upward.

Gomohan’s heart stopped. From the peak, an endless wall of white thundered toward them, devouring the mountain.

“Avalanche!” The Turkish soldiers screamed.

“How can there be an avalanche?!” Gomohan’s voice cracked with terror. His face turned as pale as the death rushing toward him.

…

The Imperial Palace

Under the moonlit sky of Great Zhou, the Qianyuan Hall stood in tranquil majesty.

Outside, Wu Zhao narrowed her eyes, inspecting the glider before her. She ran her fingers over the taut cowhide, her phoenix-like gaze filled with skepticism.

“This is the device you claim will ensure Guo Jingzhi’s survival?”

Yang Yi, standing beside her, tilted his head.

“It looks decent enough,” Wu Zhao mused, “but can it really help them descend from a snow mountain thousands of feet high… without dying?”

Yang Yi shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Wu Zhao blinked. “You don’t know?” She stared at him incredulously. “Didn’t you tell Guo Jingzhi he would definitely survive?”

Yang Yi spread his hands innocently. “I said his backpack would survive.”

Alright. Alright. Alright.

The living yama, indeed.

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