At the foot of the mountain, the vermilion gates of the General's Residence cast a cold sheen in the night. As Ye Fan slipped past the shadow wall and rounded the corner, the dark iron Tiger Tally pressed a red mark into his palm. He could hear his own heart beating against the sound of the pines—the urgent message from the hidden outpost was like a fine needle piercing the most taut nerve of his new life: Wang Ba's forces had tripled.
"The Eldest Princess orders us to rush to the king's rescue this very night." He slapped the Tiger Tally onto the porter's desk, the candlelight making the porter's bushy beard tremble. Just as the porter opened his mouth, the sound of hooves suddenly echoed from the inner courtyard. General Lǐ rushed out clad in armor, his waist saber still unsheathed, the red tassel on its pommel snapping in the night wind. "Master Ye!" He cupped his fists, his armor plates clattering. "I recognize the Princess's personal seal. How many men do you need?"
Ye Fan stared at the bloodshot veins in General Lǐ's eyes—the veteran general had just finished patrolling the city, and his armor still carried the pungent smell of horse sweat. He suppressed the urgency in his throat. "One thousand Black Armor Guards, equipped with heavy crossbows, incendiary oil, and caltrops." He paused. "And lend me three fast horses."
Chapter 138