Inside the main cabin, a young man stood tall as a poplar, clad in white robes and silver armor. Leading a white horse, he slowly emerged.
It was Zhao Yun.
Zhao Yun did not look well, and there was little smile on his face.
He merely glanced at Bai Xiaowen. "Does this count as honoring the agreement?"
Bai Xiaowen nodded. "It does."
Some life returned to Zhao Yun's previously stiff expression. He hefted his spear and mounted his horse. "Who?"
Bai Xiaowen pointed at Sun Ce.
Zhao Yun squeezed his legs against the horse's flanks. The Jade Lion of the Night gave a long neigh and leaped from the towering warship as though it had wings at its sides, plunging toward the battlefield below and charging straight for Sun Ce.
Jiangdong soldiers and officers tried to block his path.
Wherever Zhao Yun's spear rose, he seized, parried, swept, and thrust. Not a single Jiangdong soldier or officer could withstand even one exchange with him.
He was like a swift boat cleaving through wind and waves.
Yet it was obvious that Zhao Yun had not struck with full force. Otherwise, when his great spear stabbed out, the Jiangdong soldiers would not merely have been knocked sprawling to either side—they would have fallen like wheat before a scythe.
Sun Ce's expression turned stern. He could sense that Zhao Yun was coming for him.
Sun Ce recognized Zhao Yun. During the struggle for Jingzhou, he had seen Zhao Yun's heroic bearing on the battlefield, though the two had never fought.
"Zhao Zilong! Have you too bowed to that traitor? Have you forgotten who killed Liu Bei?"
Sun Ce shouted, but Zhao Yun turned a deaf ear and rode straight before him.
His spearpoint quivered, like flying pear blossoms, like drifting auspicious snow.
Sun