At the gates of Xiaoshan County City, three thousand militiamen stood in battle formation. Their banners snapped in the wind, as if whispering tales of the coming war.
Li Xiu was clad in heavy black armor that cast a cold, sharp luster under the sun. He gripped his Flying Dragon Saber and sat atop Red Hare, appearing like a war god descended from ancient myth, exuding an aura of awe-inspiring power. Li Mingda, Li Fengwu, and Wang Jie stood to his left and right like loyal guardians, their spirits high and their eyes burning with a fierce anticipation for battle; one word from their leader, and they would launch themselves at the enemy like arrows released from a bowstring.
Just then, a soft sound of hooves approached, and Peng Xiaoyan drew near. She had changed into a pale green dress, the color of fresh willow shoots in spring—fresh and elegant. Her dark hair was held up by a simple wooden pin, with a few stray strands dancing playfully against her fair neck. Her delicate features were unadorned, yet she possessed a pure, ethereal beauty, like a lotus emerging from clear water. Only, there was a faint trace of sorrow between her brows. This sorrow, like thin mist, hovered over her features, lending her an even more touching grace.
Chapter 67