The great river surged mightily, its momentum majestic and overwhelming.
From the southern foothills of the Yin Mountains down to where the Wei River flows into it, the river stretched for more than a thousand li, adorned with breathtaking scenery in many places.
But on this day in the sixth year of the Shengui era (322), the banks of the great river gained yet another scene.
“That scoundrel Shao is doomed!”
“Shao the bandit is warmongering, hated by all!”
“Shao the treacherous slave bites his own master, despised by the world!”
On the west bank of the Yellow River, the loud shouts and curses traveled with the wind, spreading far and wide.
In the wheat fields beneath the hillside, a burly man in red robes heard the insults and laughed heartily. “Like a three-year-old child, so easy to look down on.”
The two armies shouting insults back and forth from across the river had become a local spectacle, continuing for a long while.
To Shao Xun, this was tedious.
He’d rather they let him cross the river so the two armies could form battle lines, fight a proper field battle, display their skill and strength.
But unfortunately, the Xiongnu were not foolish—they stubbornly refused to let him cross.