The first round of battle ended in a crushing defeat for Zhang Xiaoting.
Perhaps his life was too smooth that the first failure stuck in his mind.
Some of their tents were burnt, and there were not many tents left. But considering that thirty thousand people had died in the daytime, the remaining tents were enough for the soldiers to huddle in.
The provisions were burnt, which was a heavy loss. They managed to salvage a small part of the grains, but those were far from enough to support them for a few days.
They had to kill some injured or old horses that would retire and tighten the belt, managing to get through tonight.
Dongqin's soldiers pitched their scattered tents in a ring around a large bonfire. Dongqin's soldiers were slurping thin porridge and chewing their small quota of ho
