Sometimes, a person's luck and chances really are impossible to pin down, impossible to describe, even…unspeakable.
If, when the trebuchet was hauled out inside Yangshan Village, Lord Zheng had stayed where he was, calm and unruffled, instead of running…maybe that boulder wouldn't have come crashing down toward him.
If Jing Renli hadn't noticed those two trebuchets that, for various reasons, were still parked in the stockade, then Chi Mingyi wouldn't have used them to smash that little cluster of Yan scouts far off in the distance.
If the Sword Saint hadn't been by Zheng Fan's side, then even if Mo Wan managed to "drag" Lord Zheng off his horse a heartbeat early, odds are he'd still have had half his skull shorn off by flying shards of stone.
In short,
just a hair's breadth off,
and Prince Jingnan's desk would be seeing a report titled: "Yan's Lord Pingye, Lord Zheng, killed in action."
It's not that Lord Zheng has never wondered why his luck on the battlefield is this rotten.
