Seeing this, the five thousand Yellow Turban soldiers held their ground, not daring to act rashly.
The Han troops were formidable. Though outnumbered, any sign of weakness could invite a devastating counterattack from the mere five hundred men before them.
Zhang Xin remained calm and unmoving.
The two sides faced each other in tense silence.
Upon learning that eight hundred Han soldiers had left the city, Xu He immediately adjusted his strategy. He ordered the forces assaulting the camp to halt and form defensive ranks, then dispatched five thousand men to engage Zhang Xin—pinning down his five hundred troops—while he personally led the rest to storm the city.
But orders take time to travel.
Before his messenger could arrive, the gates of the camp burst open.
Zhu Ling and Yue Jin charged out.
The Yellow Turbans battering the gates were completely unprepared—they never expected the Han army to counterattack.
Yue Jin led the charge, wielding a ring-pommel sword. Swift and elusive, he darted through the crowd like an eel, cutting down several men in an instant—impossible to target.
Moments later, Zhu Ling followed, spear flashing as he struck down more enemies.
The rebels at the gate broke and fled.
Instead of chasing, the two split apart, cutting down the remaining attackers around the camp.
Already shaken, the Yellow Turbans collapsed under the sudden assault from behind, scattering in panic.
Seeing the moment, Gao Shun led five hundred troops out to join the attack.
The rout became total.
The fleeing rebels crashed into their own formation, throwing it into chaos. Their commander shouted desperately—but no one listened.
To make matters worse, Zuo Bao returned with cavalry, striking again.
Xu He's messenger, arriving just then, could only stare at the chaos before retreating in shock.
Meanwhile, the five thousand Yellow Turbans facing Zhang Xin received their orders and began to advance—
But suddenly, a thunderous uproar erupted behind them.
They turned—
And saw their comrades utterly defeated.
Panic spread instantly. Some pressed forward, others froze in place.
Their commander stood stunned.
Who am I? Where am I? What should I do?
Zhang Xin seized the moment.
"The enemy is in disarray—follow me and strike!"
Five hundred Han soldiers charged.
Dian Wei leapt from his horse, twin iron halberds in hand. Clad in heavy armor, he ignored incoming blades and spears, smashing directly into the enemy ranks.
Where his halberds swept, men fell—glancing blows killed, direct hits maimed.
The already fragile formation shattered under his assault.
The Han soldiers surged in behind him, widening the breach without needing orders.
"Hold the line! Hold the line!" the Yellow Turban leader cried—but it was too late.
At that moment, Gao Shun and Zuo Bao abandoned pursuit and struck from both sides.
Zuo Bao's cavalry wheeled around and plunged into the rear.
Gao Shun hit the flank.
With Zhu Ling and Yue Jin breaking through from the front, the five thousand rebels collapsed completely.
Surrounded on three sides, the Yellow Turbans broke.
They fled in all directions, wishing for more legs to carry them faster.
"Do not pursue!" Zhang Xin ordered firmly.
He immediately recalled Gao Shun to camp and had Zuo Bao return to the city.
Xu He still had forces in reserve—overextension could turn victory into disaster.
By the time Zhang Xin returned to the walls, Xu He had just begun his siege.
Seeing his troops in full rout, he was alarmed and ordered an immediate retreat.
Back atop the city walls, Zhang Xin was in high spirits.
"Congratulations, Governor, on your victory," said Xun You, smiling. "The Yellow Turbans of Hebei can now be subdued."
Zhang Xin nodded.
Through this battle, he understood clearly:
Xu He's command ability was not lacking.
But the quality of his soldiers was.
No matter how skilled the general, poorly trained troops could not stand against disciplined forces.
Despite being heavily outnumbered, Zhang Xin had defeated eight thousand enemies with just fifteen hundred men.
The illusion of Yellow Turban strength had been shattered.
Now, it was a matter of time.
Yuyang lay some 700 li away. Orders had been sent five days earlier—Zhang Niujiao and Taishi Ci should already be on their way.
The cavalry could arrive in as little as four days.
The navy, aided by winter winds, would take slightly longer—but no more than a week.
Xu He, having suffered defeat, would need days to recover morale.
If Zhang Xin could hold out just a little longer—reinforcements would arrive.
The Han army celebrated their victory, tending to the wounded and feasting to restore morale.
Meanwhile, Xu He returned to camp, deeply troubled.
"As expected of Marquis Xuanwei… a mere thousand men routed my eight thousand."
After much reflection, he reached a conclusion:
His tactics had not failed.
His soldiers had.
"When fortune favors them, they are fierce as tigers… when it does not, they scatter like sheep."
He sighed.
"It seems I must retrain the army."
For the next two days, Xu He made no further attacks, focusing instead on discipline and reorganization.
On the third day, Zhang Liao reported loud shouting from the enemy camp.
Curious, Zhang Xin climbed the wall.
In the distance—drills.
"Xu He is training his troops?" Zhang Xin raised an eyebrow.
Zhang Liao nodded. "Shall we attack and disrupt him?"
Zhang Xin instead asked, "What of the Yellow Turbans in Gaotang?"
"They remain as before—looting and indulging themselves."
Zhang Xin smiled faintly.
"Then let him train."
He turned away from the wall.
"Even if he trains for a few days, how much stronger can they become?"
"What we need most… is time."
He looked toward the distant camp.
"I am waiting for reinforcements…"
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"…but what is he waiting for?"