The moment Zhang Xin rode out of the north gate, the entire battlefield shifted.
The Yellow Turbans who had been calmly holding formation outside the city suddenly wavered.
They had expected a defensive battle.
They had not expected the governor himself to personally lead troops out of the city.
—
Zhang Xin did not rush forward immediately.
Instead, he raised his hand.
"Form ranks!"
Five hundred county soldiers quickly formed a tight formation behind him—shields in front, spears behind. Though not elite, under pressure, even raw troops could hold if properly ordered.
Beside him, Dian Wei stood like an iron tower, halberds in hand, eyes fixed on the enemy.
Ahead—
five thousand Yellow Turbans.
Behind—
the city of Pingyuan.
And to the west—
the thunder of hooves from Zuo Bao's cavalry.
—
"Now… we break them."
Zhang Xin lowered his hand.
"Advance!"
—
At the same time—
Gao Shun's camp gates burst open.
Zhu Ling and Yue Jin led two hundred armored soldiers charging out like a blade, cutting straight into the disorganized Yellow Turbans.
This was the final push that shattered morale.
The Yellow Turbans attacking the camp—already shaken by heavy casualties—collapsed almost instantly.
What had been an organized siege turned into chaos.
—
Then came the decisive blow.
Zuo Bao's cavalry struck from the flank.
Three hundred horsemen, descending like a storm.
The Yellow Turbans stationed outside the city were caught between three forces:
Gao Shun pushing from the north Zhang Xin pressing from the south Cavalry crashing in from the west
A perfect three-sided envelopment.
—
"Hold the line! Hold—!"
A Yellow Turban officer tried to rally his men.
Too late.
Once peasant soldiers lost cohesion, they didn't retreat—
they ran.
—
Zhang Xin saw the moment.
"Charge!"
This time, he advanced personally.
The five hundred county soldiers surged forward, their earlier hesitation gone, replaced by the momentum of victory.
Dian Wei roared and charged ahead of the line.
Where he passed—
men fell.
No formation could withstand that kind of raw force.
—
Within moments, the five thousand Yellow Turbans outside the city were in full rout.
Some fled toward their main force.
Others scattered into the fields.
The battlefield dissolved into dust, screams, and fleeing figures.
—
From atop the distant formation, the opposing commander watched everything unfold.
His banners did not move.
His formation did not break.
Even as five thousand men collapsed—
he did not advance.
—
Zhang Xin narrowed his eyes.
"That must be him…"
A commander who could remain unmoved even as part of his army was destroyed—
There were not many such men among the Yellow Turbans.
Most likely—
Xu He.
—
Xun You rode up beside him, watching the distant enemy.
"My lord… he did not come to rescue them."
Zhang Xin nodded slowly.
"He's not trying to win this battle."
"He's testing us."
—
And now—
the test was over.
—
The Yellow Turban main force began to withdraw.
Not in panic.
Not in disorder.
But in steady, controlled retreat.
—
Zhang Xin did not give chase.
He raised his hand again.
"Stop the pursuit."
The soldiers, still burning with momentum, hesitated—but obeyed.
—
Because he understood something clearly now:
This was no longer a simple suppression of rebels.
This was a campaign.
And his opponent—
was no ordinary enemy.
—
As the dust settled, Gao Shun, Zhu Ling, and Yue Jin returned with their troops.
Zuo Bao's cavalry regrouped as well.
Victory—
clean, decisive, and morale-boosting.
But not final.
—
Zhang Xin looked toward the distant retreating banners.
Quietly, he said:
"Next time… he won't test us."
"He'll try to kill us."
—
The real battle—
had yet to begin.