When the divination shows no clear ending, it means there’s still hope for survival. As for the person who would change the outcome through their power, Liu Buwang didn’t know who it would be. The teachings of his sect dictated that divination could only inquire about events, not people. This was based on the principle that “human determination conquers heaven’s will.”
No one is entirely bound by heaven’s fate.
“We have the geographical advantage,” He Yan said, looking at Liu Buwang. “The gourd-neck formation at Jiyang City is our natural advantage, and the Jiyang military forces have grown up by the water, skilled in swimming and navigating it. As for human resources, we’re all here now and will work to avoid mistakes. The only real difficulty now is heaven’s will. If the southeastern wind blows that day, victory will be ours. If the northwestern wind blows, even heaven will stand with the Wutuo people.”
The wind direction would determine whether they could employ fire tactics, which offered the greatest chance of victory.
“Commander Xiao,” Liu Buwang looked toward Xiao Jue, “Even if the civilians evacuate, should the Wutuo people attack within days and we can’t hold the city, those inside won’t survive, and those who’ve evacuated will be caught.”
Xiao Jue replied, “That’s why it’s better if the Wutuo people attack later. If they move quickly, we must hold the city as long as possible.”
“You mean,” Liu Buwang seemed to realize something, “our only option now is to defend the city.”
“Not just defend,” He Yan said. “If we want to launch an offensive, fire is our only choice. However…”
This battle would depend not just on the commanders and soldiers, but also on heaven’s favor and luck.
“I understand,” Liu Buwang said. “I’ll think of other methods. Commander, please prepare early,” his gaze showed concern, “The Wutuo people will attack within three days at the latest.”
Everyone understood that three days was their most optimistic estimate. To prevent too many civilians from evacuating, the Wutuo people would surely deploy their forces very soon.
It was simply a race against time between both sides.
He Yan’s group thought this way, but they hadn’t expected the Wutuo people to be even more impatient. The next night, clear horns sounded from north of the Grand Canal, and thousands of large ships appeared upstream, bringing the fierce Wutuo people and their long sabers.
The enemy was at the gates.
Mu Hongjin sat in the main hall, with servants standing around her with lowered heads. The atmosphere was heavy and stagnant, but the lady maintained her usual composure, calmly instructing the servants beside her: “Send the soldiers from the palace gates to the city gates.”
“Your Highness!”
“If the city gates fall, I won’t survive alone. Rather than guard the palace, better to protect the civilians,” Mu Hongjin said serenely. “I am their Princess, as I should be.”
Her attitude was resolute. The servants hesitated briefly but ultimately followed her instructions. Mu Hongjin raised her eyes to look at the Spring Scene of Jiyang painted on the wall—bustling flower markets and water markets, crowds of people, so vivid they seemed ready to step out of the painting. As battle approached, the Princess maintained her beautiful and proud demeanor, composed and powerful, showing no trace of panic, as if what was happening outside was merely an insignificant disturbance. As if everything would be resolved after listening to a melody or watching a dance.
Father, the woman in red robes whispered in her heart, your daughter has guarded this city for over twenty years, and will continue to do so.
The city’s people are so pure and kind; the Water God will protect them. They… will surely overcome this crisis.
…
Jiyang City hadn’t seen warfare for many years. When war broke out, those who couldn’t leave—the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled—all awoke from their dreams. Some sat quietly in their homes waiting for the outcome, others crawled on the ground, silently praying to Buddha for protection.
Cui Yuezhi changed into armor and fastened his long saber at his waist before leaving the mansion. The entire Cui household showed no panic; even the servants worked with composure. The concubines, contrary to their usual behavior, weren’t joking or laughing but stood obediently in their rooms awaiting instructions. Concubine Wei said, “Everyone does your tasks. Until the master returns, no one is to speak carelessly.”
As Cui Yuezhi’s family members, they could have evacuated, but they chose to stay and share his fate.
If the city fell, these defenseless women would find no mercy at the hands of the Wutuo people. Therefore, each of them—including the Third Concubine who usually loved to cry and worry—had prepared a white silk cord. Their lives were their own; if the city fell, they could not allow themselves to fall into the Wutuo people’s hands.
Cui Yuezhi left the mansion and rode to the training ground camp. Just as he arrived and dismounted, he saw someone emerge from the tent—it was Xiao Jue.
Without his usual refined robes, the young man no longer looked like a noble young master from the capital. He wore black battle robes and cloud boots, his armor gleaming coldly, adding to his authority. His appearance was handsome, but his presence was sharp as a blade, like the crystalline sword at his waist, impossible to ignore.
“Commander Xiao,” Cui Yuezhi looked into the distance. Soon, dawn would illuminate Jiyang City’s sky, and the Wutuo ships would arrive. Time was of the essence. “All of Jiyang’s forces are here. I will lead some men to set up an ambush at the gourd-neck, while you lead the others to confront the Jiyang army by boat. Regarding the fire attack…”
His expression grew grave.
The Imperial Astronomical Bureau had observed the heavens overnight. Today might be windless, or there might be a southeastern wind, but even if the wind came, it would be in the afternoon. By then, the Wutuo people might already have landed.
What they could do was wait for a “possible” southeastern wind, and for this possibility, they had to extend the battle and delay the Wutuo people on the water as long as possible.
Xiao Jue leading the Jiyang forces would attempt this difficult task, but an even more challenging task remained: the person who would set the fires.
To secretly set fire to the Wutuo ships at just the right moment—with so many ships, they couldn’t ignite them all individually. They needed to observe the ships’ positions, find the most crucial ones, and use their flames to quickly spread the fire to all the Wutuo vessels. This required excellent strategic vision and exceptional judgment. In all of Jiyang City, those capable of such a feat were extremely rare.
Cui Yuezhi was also troubled, but he had no choice. He beckoned behind him, and a group approached, led by Mu Yi, who had previously sparred with He Yan at the training ground.
“I’ve found a soldier who will follow Mu Yi’s command to find an opportunity to board the Wutuo ships. When the southeastern wind comes, they’ll set the fires. Since we can’t be certain which ships’ fires we can control, Mu Yi will have to burn as many as possible.”
The more ships they burned, the greater the chance of discovery, and it was very likely they would end up trapped on the ships themselves. This fire-setting soldier was, in a sense, like a vanguard soldier—one prepared to sacrifice himself.
Using their sacrifice to clear the path for their brothers who would follow.
Mu Yi said to Xiao Jue, “I will do my utmost.”
Everyone now understood how unfavorable the situation was for the Jiyang forces. Mu Yi was no longer as arrogant as before, his expression much more solemn.
“Captain Cui, let me handle the fire-setting mission,” a voice interrupted. The tent flap lifted, and someone walked out—it was He Yan.
She too wore the robes and armor of the Jiyang city forces, her long hair tied high. With bright eyes and white teeth, she gave off a completely different feeling from her previous refined appearance. Perhaps it wasn’t just imagination, but everyone felt that the girl looked even more striking in this attire than in her formal dress, appearing completely natural.
Though the armor was heavy, she moved with ease, her expression composed as she looked at Xiao Jue and said, “Commander, let me handle the fire-setting task.”
“Miss He…” Mu Yi tried to dissuade her, “It’s very dangerous.”
“The Wutuo people have too many ships, and we might have to wait until afternoon for that uncertain southeastern wind,” He Yan shook her head. “To hide among them undetected requires not only skill but also endurance. Moreover, one must understand how to coordinate timing with the Jiyang forces under the Commander’s leadership. Brother Mu Yi, you’ve never fought alongside the Commander before. Even for setting fires, the coordination between you two can’t be perfected in a moment. I am under the Commander’s command and have a rapport with him—it would be best for me to lead you. Besides,” she smiled slightly, “didn’t you already cross hands with me at the training ground? Why do you still lack confidence in me?”
Mu Yi’s face reddened, leaving him speechless. Having lost to He Yan, he couldn’t dispute her superior skills.
He Yan’s words were half-true. The truth lay in her ability to coordinate better with Xiao Jue, as demonstrated during the Yuan Baozhen incident in Liangzhou City. Moreover, commanders often think alike—what Xiao Jue could think of, she could understand too. Similarly, he could comprehend her hints, which Mu Yi might not grasp. Additionally, she had noticed that Mu Yi was prepared to die, planning to trade his life for success. But on the battlefield, avoiding unnecessary sacrifices was a commander’s responsibility. While she couldn’t guarantee everyone’s safe return, at least they wouldn’t face complete annihilation.
Both officially and personally, it was better for her to undertake this dangerous mission than Mu Yi.
Cui Yuezhi hesitated. Since discussing fire attack strategies that day, he had known He Yan was extraordinary and not to be underestimated—far more capable than Mu Yi. But he wasn’t very familiar with He Yan, and her full capabilities remained unknown. Moreover, she wasn’t under his command; even if he agreed, it wouldn’t matter if Xiao Jue disagreed. Therefore, he also looked to Xiao Jue and said, “I certainly trust Miss He’s abilities, and I would be quite reassured to have her handle this task, but what does Commander Xiao think?”
Xiao Jue looked at He Yan, and she met his gaze. Her eyes were clear and full of vitality; the armor she wore radiated a heroic spirit, illuminating her entire face. Like a youth showing extraordinary talent on Liangzhou’s training ground, her movements were as swift as the wind.
The free wind shouldn’t be confined to a small space. He slightly curved his lips and said quietly, “Go ahead.”
He Yan said, “Thank you, Commander!”
She had thought Xiao Jue might disagree and had been considering how to persuade him, but hadn’t expected him to agree so readily. However, he probably also saw that she would be better suited than Mu Yi for this task. As the commander, every order he gave had to be fair.
“Be careful,” Xiao Jue said. “Don’t force it. If the situation turns unfavorable, withdraw. I’ll have other methods.”
He Yan replied, “Understood!”
…
He Yan led Mu Yi’s group forward. Besides herself, there were fifty people in total.
These fifty were the most skilled fighters in the Jiyang city forces. Since they needed to lurk in shadows, ambush, hide, set fires, and retreat—possibly engaging some Wutuo forces—even slightly inferior skills wouldn’t suffice. Looking at them, He Yan thought of the vanguard she had once served in, where about a dozen people would charge at the front of every battle.
However, these dozen were different people each time, as most never returned. But it was precisely because of them that the possibility of victory could be created for the forces that followed.
At the gourd-neck, Cui Yuezhi led troops in defense, while Xiao Jue took the main force by boat to engage the approaching Wutuo forces on Jiyang City’s canal. Before leaving, Xiao Jue hadn’t given her any specific instructions, meaning from this moment on, the initiative for their covert fire-setting operation lay entirely in He Yan’s hands.
“Miss He,” Mu Yi looked at her, “What exactly should we do?”
Time was passing, and dawn approached. They had no time to hesitate. Though Mu Yi knew He Yan’s martial skills were excellent, he had no confidence in her ability to command a surprise attack. He didn’t even know that the fire attack strategy was He Yan’s idea, assuming she thought like him—planning to rely on superior skills to infiltrate the Wutuo ships and set fires.
“Should we prepare the oil now?” Mu Yi asked, thinking she hadn’t figured out a plan, and suggested, “We could hide the oil along the shore and find a way to get it onto the Wutuo ships, what do you think?”
“No need,” He Yan raised her hand and said, “Prepare ten small boats.”
“Ten small boats?” Mu Yi frowned. “All the boats have been given to Commander Xiao, and we’re already short on vessels. What do we need so many for?”
He Yan said, “I’ve been thinking—burning their ships one by one would be much harder than burning our own. We should use our boats instead.”
Mu Yi was startled. The dozens of men behind him didn’t quite understand, and someone asked, “What do you mean? Could you explain more clearly?”
“I need ten small boats, with all your prepared oil distributed among them. Then pile them with dry grass, making them appear identical to other warships. When both sides engage in battle, the Wutuo people will think these are just ordinary oil-carrying small boats like the Jiyang forces’ vessels. When the southeastern wind rises, we can pretend to engage them and approach the Wutuo large ships.”
“At that moment, we just need to set our boats on fire.”
“This method offers the best chance of success, and you can jump into the river to save yourselves at most,” she said.