Chapter 87
An ancient-style poem: The barbarian warhorses raised dust as they faced the long wind, Banners fluttered and clashed, and gongs and drums sounded in confusion. The yellow-bearded Liao general mounted his carved saddle, Fitted his arrow, drew his bow to the full, and deployed his ranks. Shaking the reins, he galloped south, Each man displaying his martial might. The saber in his hand could cut down the red-whiskered dragon of the North Sea; The sword at his waist could strike down the white-browed tiger of the Southern Mountains. The heroes of Liangshan Marsh Had spirits that soared straight to the clouds. One day they submitted to the court and obeyed the great righteousness, Vowing to sweep the realm clean and destroy the wicked. By imperial edict they advanced into the You and Yan region, Taking city after city and winning great merit. Commander Wuyan could be counted a fine general, His wisdom surpassing that of the Feixiong of old. Below the walls of Youzhou the victory would be decided; On the green hills and plains the dust was dyed red with blood. Capturing......
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