The weapons in the hands of the Qing Taoqi cavalrymen silently unsheathed.
Without a sound, the Qing Taoqi began their charge. Even the horses ridden by the serfs were trained warhorses, voluntarily stepping forward, closely following the pace of the Qing Taoqi. The hands gripping the knives, belonging to the people who had been plundered, trembled more severely, yet they held on tightly.
The Qing Taoqi were finally discovered three hundred paces away from the enemy camp.
This distance, however, was covered in just a few long breaths. A colonel grabbed his knife, rushing out of the tent, and before he could clearly see where the enemy was, a blur passed his eyes as Gongsun Jing was already close. His warhorse, startled, reared up with a long neigh, and its bowl-sized hooves crashed heavily onto the colonel.
