Initially intending to ignore this, Qiao Yan reconsidered and replied: “[I’ve been confined for too long; I need to stretch my legs on the border.]”

Her words might sound provocative, but considering her consistent style, it’s not surprising at all.

Besides, throughout history, young talents of the Han Dynasty have often done unconventional things.

If not for the concern that Qiao Yan might perish beyond the pass and leave him unable to justify himself, the Governor of Wuyuan County wouldn’t have said much more.

In theory, Qiao Yan should report to the central government about her intention to pursue the Huns beyond the border.

However, she wrote in her letters to the Governor of Wuyuan County and Cui Lie that to do a good job, one must first sharpen the tools.

In this case, dealing with the dangerous barbarians is that necessary preparation.

Yet, this preparation has taken some time. If she waits for central approval before mobilizing, it will inevitably delay the opportunity for action.

So, she’ll petition afterward.

After all, it’s not the first time she’s done this.

Furthermore, in her letters, she mentioned that if the barbarians aren’t taught a lesson, there’s a danger that the situation in Bingzhou might mirror what happened in Youzhou and Ji.

With Zhang Ju’s collusion with the Wuhuan in joint operations, the Governors of Youbei Ping in Youzhou and Liaodong, as well as the Colonel protecting the Wuhuan, have successively perished.

If a similar disaster were to strike Bingzhou, who would be the first casualties?

The closest prefect to Gongyang and Guangluose, who received her letter, was the Governor of Wuyuan County.

Shaken by the possibility mentioned in Qiao Yan’s letter, the Governor of Wuyuan County rubbed his neck, feeling an inexplicable chill.

Seeing the decisive tone of letting loose on the border in her letter, he decided to keep quiet.

Well, at least he could ensure his own safety.

What surprised Qiao Yan, however, was that among those sent by this Governor of Wuyuan County to garrison Guangluose, there was a familiar face.

After receiving messages from both locations overnight, Qiao Yan took a short nap.

By the time she set out from Guangluose at the agreed-upon time to mobilize with others, she happened to look back towards the border and met a face she knew well.

It was Liang Zhongning.

He was now clad in armor, wielding a long spear, standing atop the walls of Guangluose.

Despite his helmet partially obscuring his face, Qiao Yan recognized him immediately, partly because his expression seemed unusually complex.

Compared to the soldiers curious about who exactly the Marquis of Leping was, his expression was far more intricate.

However, Liang Zhongning himself was feeling somewhat bewildered.

If he were still one of the bandit prisoners being punished for the Yellow Turban Rebellion, there was no way he would be sent to guard Guangluose at such a critical time.

But due to his exemplary behavior over the past three years, and particularly his record of enemy kills during regular deployments, he exist as an official border guard.

Life had improved considerably compared to before, largely thanks to Qiao Yan.

Without her, he probably wouldn’t be in his current position.

However, in this formal military environment, he gradually realized how fragile their uprising during the Yellow Turban Rebellion had been.

It appeared formidable at the time but was actually easily defeated.

Moreover, Qiao Yan—no, Marquis of Leping—had done many good deeds to stabilize the people’s livelihood in Bingzhou.

Two winters ago, while warming himself by a campfire with his comrades and sharing a meal, he heard people say that if not for Lord Qiao swiftly quelling the locust plague in Bingzhou, they would have been the first to starve if a famine struck.

Reluctantly, Liang Zhongning had to admit that Qiao Yan indirectly saved his life.

And now, he faced a scene he had never imagined before: watching her lead an expedition beyond the border.

Regardless of whether the bandits under her command, the Hedong and Black Mountain bandits, had originally risen under the banner of the Yellow Turbans, seeing them now being directed by Qiao Yan gave Liang Zhongning an indescribable sense of deja vu.

Undeniably, what she was doing now could be considered safeguarding the territory and protecting the people.

Thinking this, Liang Zhongning’s complex gaze turned into one of understanding and respect.

He raised his long spear and cheered alongside the soldiers guarding the city walls, supporting this expedition to “settle scores.”

This somewhat unconventional blessing made Qiao Yan gaze towards Guangluose for quite some time.

But when Zhang Liao asked her about it, she just smiled and shook her head. “Wen Yuan must be feeling the novelty of his first campaign.”

As she turned back, her gaze forward regained its usual calm.

Previously, she hadn’t dwelled on the events of the Yellow Turban Rebellion too much.

What mattered now was the present.

West of Gongyang, in the area now known as Bayannur between the mountains and rivers, was once called North Jia.

Between this place and Yanshan lay a stretch of east-west red sandstone hills.

This was why Qiao Yan, looking out from Guangluose, saw that reddish mountain range.

As they approached the mountains, they noticed several patterns painted on the red sandstone cliffs.

Over time, rain and weathering had blurred some areas, but most depicted scenes of cattle, sheep, dwellings, hunting, and rituals.

Of course, the time these rock paintings had endured

Long before the concept of Han or even nations existed, these rock paintings were born.

As they traveled deeper into the Gongyang Road, the colors of the rocks shifted from red to black, making the carved and engraved markings clearer due to the stark contrast.

For instance, where she now glanced, a depiction of a group of wild mountain goats running was etched on the stone wall.

However, the identity of those chasing them—whether they were human or other beasts—was left blank, inviting wild speculation about events that occurred thousands of years ago.

Just as she pondered this, Xu Fu suddenly exclaimed, “My Lord, look here.”

Noticing the urgency in his usually calm voice, Qiao Yan rode up to Xu Fu’s side to see another rock painting.

This particular painting was notably more recent than the others, with fresh markings that appeared to have been made just a few days ago.

The moment Qiao Yan saw the painting, her eyes involuntarily widened.

If it had been a typical depiction celebrating nomadic life like the others, it would have been acceptable.

But this one clearly showed Xiongnu people cooking Han people in a cauldron, surrounded by celebratory scenes!

This blatant provocation, preserved for possibly two thousand years or more until now, alongside the murals like those in Guigu Valley, was a direct challenge!

Qiao Yan’s hand instinctively rested on the two halves of her trident spear beside her.

It wasn’t just Qiao Yan who reacted this way; everyone who arrived at the scene couldn’t help but show a mix of indignation and anger.

If it weren’t for Qiao Yan and Xu Fu being the closest to the painting, it might have been erased from the stone wall in the next moment.

Her thoughts raced.

She had to choose between destroying this shameful painting, which would be a disgrace to the people of Gongyang County and even the Han Dynasty, or using it as evidence to take action against the Xutuge tribes.

After a moment’s deliberation, she gradually calmed down and chose the latter.

However, even as she made this decision—

She had already resolved that her actions would not stop at the borders of Leping, but would expand into Bingzhou.

Faced with such provocative behavior, her response might have seemed a bit extreme, but she believed it was justified!

They were indeed too audacious! —

But for these raiders of the Xutuge, they could afford to be even more audacious.

Gongyang, a heavily fortified stronghold, was never their first choice.

In their entrenched beliefs, the Han’s vigilance over the Gongyang Road had always been stringent.

After all, among the important mountain passes in the Yin Mountains—the Chanyu Road, Gongyang Road, and the Shuomo Ancient Road—

Only the Gongyang Road, situated at the junction of two mountains with the Kunlun River passing through, could accommodate large numbers of vehicles and horses.

This was the route chosen by the Xutuge tribes for their campaign against Bingzhou as they rose to prominence.

Out of fear of the Han, they dared not choose direct invasion.

Even upon hearing rumors of breaches in the Great Wall and special conscriptions within Bingzhou, they only launched a swift attack on Gongyang with five hundred cavalry, making an initial attempt.

If successful, they planned to contact the Southern Xiongnu barbarians who had provided them with this information to coordinate a pincer attack on Bingzhou.

After all, roaming the grasslands outside the Great Wall was nothing compared to the freedom to gallop through the cities of Bingzhou!