Suzhou. The Ning Army’s main camp.

Shen Shanzhu arrived with her forces, and barely at the gates she found Luo Jing, Zhuang Wudi, and the others already waiting.

Shen Shanzhu quickly dismounted, took a few quick steps forward, and saluted Luo Jing and Zhuang Wudi.

She had been carrying a private weight of guilt toward Luo Jing ever since the Qingzhou affair.

The credit for Qingzhou, properly speaking, belonged at least half to Luo Jing — and yet he had simply said nothing and led his forces back.

If Prince Ning were to reward those who had earned merit in Qingzhou, and Shen Shanzhu were to receive a noble title, it would be owed in no small part to Luo Jing’s generosity.

When Luo Jing saw Shen Shanzhu bow in greeting, he quickly moved to stop her: “The Great General said that after his departure, command of the army falls to you. It should be us saluting you.”

Shen Shanzhu gave a wry smile: “The Great General is a bit reckless in how he arranges things.”

Zhuang Wudi just laughed — he said little, but stood to one side smiling.

Zhuang Wudi might seem slow and taciturn, but his mind was sharp. He, of course, had already understood the thinking behind Tang Pidi’s choice of Shen Shanzhu as commander.

Luo Jing was a formidable fighter, but his nature was aggressive — once battle was joined, he let nothing hold him back. As a field commander, Luo Jing was without peer; as a strategic commander, he was somewhat lacking.

If Tang Pidi had named Zhuang Wudi as commander, Luo Jing would certainly have refused to accept it and would have kicked up a fuss.

Though they were close, that kind of thing had nothing to do with how close you were — resentment was resentment.

Luo Jing was that proud and self-confident, and he came from a military family; he was also a man who thought highly of himself.

And Zhuang Wudi had come from the Yanshan Camp. Making him commander would sit poorly with Luo Jing, and if generals were at odds with each other while facing at least seven or eight hundred thousand of Li Xionghu’s troops, how were they supposed to fight?

The Ning Army might be superb fighters, might be without equal — but if the generals among them were not in harmony, the outcome was certain defeat.

Yet Tang Pidi absolutely could not have named Luo Jing as commander, precisely because of his nature. If he misjudged a situation, or simply charged forward with nothing holding him back once the fighting started, and this battle was somehow lost — the loss of life would be one thing. Completely losing Suzhou and Yangzhou was another matter. And there was still a third matter: if they were beaten here, Tang Pidi’s force would truly become a lone army cut off from all support.

Tang Pidi understood Luo Jing too well. If Zhuang Wudi were named commander Luo Jing would refuse to accept it — but if a woman were named commander, and one who also had some connection to Tang Pidi, along with the history between the two of them in Qingzhou, all of this was enough to make Luo Jing far less resentful.

The decisive factor that had shaped this arrangement — the more essential reason behind Tang Pidi’s concern — was precisely the thing he had feared: Luo Jing’s pride.

Because he was proud and solitary, he would ironically not put up much resistance to Shen Shanzhu. He would not make trouble.

Because doing so would cost Luo Jing his dignity and his face — competing with a woman over seniority, he could not bring himself to stoop to that.

For the sake of this battle, Tang Pidi had to think through every single aspect clearly.

If Luo Jing had a more composed nature, and a better grasp of the larger picture, the position of commander would of course be his — there could have been no other choice.

Having Shen Shanzhu as commander now — her personality was also that forceful and sharp. But because she owed Luo Jing a debt, and she knew Zhuang Wudi was Prince Ning’s sworn elder brother and the most senior man in the Ning Army, she would consult with both of them on every decision.

Only in this way could the three of them truly work in concert.

Each of these three, taken alone, was a great talent capable of commanding an independent army. But how to make these three work together in seamless coordination required a touch of careful thinking.

Shen Shanzhu — sharp-minded as she was — had already understood the reasoning behind it all the moment she received Tang Pidi’s letter.

That was why she had shown that wry smile: being handed this role of commander put her on pins and needles.

One was of storied lineage, known as the finest warrior of the northern frontier. The other was Prince Ning’s sworn brother, the most senior member of the Ning Army.

What Tang Pidi had given her as her charge was to bring all these people and all these things into alignment.

The moment she thought of that man walking off by himself and leaving her with a situation this immense — three hundred thousand troops under her command — she felt a knot of anxiety.

“You are the commander.”

Luo Jing smiled and said: “The Great General also said that if we don’t follow your orders, he’ll come back and beat us both.”

Zhuang Wudi also smiled: “If there’s anyone to be beaten, it’ll only be you.”

Luo Jing scoffed: “And what makes you think you’d do better than me?”

Zhuang Wudi: “At the very least, I couldn’t do worse.”

The two of them shot each other a glare, and Shen Shanzhu found herself laughing — the anxiety that had been knotted inside her loosened just slightly.

Commanding two generals like these — truly, it was both daunting and somehow thrilling.

“Then let’s go look at the military situation — I want to ride out and take a look at the enemy camp. Li Xionghu is said to have seven or eight hundred thousand?”

Shen Shanzhu asked as she walked.

Luo Jing said: “Roughly — should be about that.”

Shen Shanzhu said: “That’s not bad — everyone gets two or three each.”

Luo Jing looked at Zhuang Wudi, who also smiled — and his expression said: what else would you expect from Tang Pidi’s woman?

Luo Jing asked: “Don’t you want to rest in the camp first?”

“No need.”

Shen Shanzhu mounted her horse: “Let’s go look at the enemy camp first.”

In her heart she thought: no matter what, she could not afford to lose face here. If she handled this command badly, the loss of face would not be hers alone — it would also be Tang Pidi’s.

In the letter Tang Pidi had written to her, there was this line: half the realm rests on this battle; the weight of all that matters rests on your shoulders alone.

And there was another line: if Li Xionghu knows that the one who went to Yangzhou and Hangcheng was not me but someone else, he will not divert so many troops. Only by letting him know it was me who went with just thirty thousand to Hangcheng will he mass his forces to block my way — and that will make things easier for you.

And the last line was this: once you’ve won, come quickly to collect me — my life is in your hands.

—

At the same time. Jingzhou.

Li Chi and his party had arrived. After disembarking, Xiahou Zuo and Xie Xiu, along with their respective subordinate commanders, were already waiting.

The moment Li Chi stepped off, Xiahou Zuo and the others strode forward and bowed in salute. Xie Xiu in particular looked visibly anxious and guilt-ridden.

What they now faced was not only Yang Dingfang’s hundred and fifty thousand elite Heavenly Mandate Army troops, but an entire Xie Family.

It was hard for Xie Xiu and Xie Huainan to avoid feeling uneasy.

At this moment, both of them were intensely worried about Li Chi’s attitude.

Yu Jiuling, however, wasn’t thinking about any of that. He was still reveling in someone else’s misfortune.

Because he was watching Shendiao after it came off the ship — it didn’t know how to walk anymore!

After spending more than twenty days swaying about on the water, Shendiao had only just grown accustomed to that rolling, lurching life — and now setting foot on solid ground with all four hooves, with no swaying at all, it could no longer walk straight.

Gou Zi was still standing on Shendiao’s back, and Shendiao’s wobbly, side-to-side gait made Gou Zi look on with disdain again.

Stumbling along, unable to walk in a straight line — Yu Jiuling couldn’t hold back his laughter. The people up ahead had been maintaining a rather solemn atmosphere, and the moment Yu Jiuling couldn’t hold it in, every gaze turned toward him.

Everyone looked over to his side, and then they saw it — that enormous wild boar, its scale awe-inspiring, its presence domineering.

Many of them were laying eyes on Shendiao for the first time. Its mighty frame and commanding presence made hearts quail — except that it was listing from side to side as it walked, which perhaps made it a touch less domineering.

“Let’s go ahead and take a look.”

Li Chi stepped forward, and everyone followed.

They went directly to the other side of the camp. Roughly thirty li across from them lay the Heavenly Mandate Army’s position.

Tingyang here had none of the imposing mountain ranges you might find elsewhere, but the terrain rose and fell in irregular ways — nothing like the broad plains of Yuzhou and Jizhou.

Yang Dingfang’s forces had used the terrain to position their camp, and had already finished building their wooden perimeter walls — which showed that he did not fully trust the Xie Family.

Even though the Xie Family had provided him with enormous quantities of grain and supplies, he did not dare recklessly enter Tingyang.

Who was to say this wasn’t a trap the Xie Family had dug for him? On the surface it looked like they were pledging allegiance to the Heavenly Mandate King, but the moment Yang Dingfang’s army entered Tingyang and the Xie Family turned on them — what then?

This was also the most awkward position the Xie Family now found itself in. Xie Huaiyuan had staked everything on this gamble, yet the man he was supporting still regarded him with wariness.

He had offended the side that paid him no regard; the side he was now ingratiating himself with still paid him no regard.

Li Chi raised his far-sight glass and observed carefully, and he could not help but acknowledge inwardly that Yang Dingfang truly commanded his troops with skill.

The way the camp had been constructed, the layout of its defenses, the distances between the various sections, the positioning of each division — every detail had a disciplined logic to it.

After watching for a good while, Li Chi put down the far-sight glass and looked at Xiahou Zuo: “Have you worked out an offensive strategy?”

Xiahou Zuo gave a nod and told his personal guard to bring over a bound dossier: “This is what General Xie and I worked out together after many days of planning — take a look.”

Li Chi opened the dossier and read through it carefully. Three offensive plans were laid out, each with its advantages and drawbacks, all described in detail.

Xiahou Zuo was a brilliant adaptive commander — writing this kind of thing was clearly not his strength — so it was evident that Xie Xiu had done more of the detailed thinking.

Without even asking, Li Chi could guess: the three offensive plans had been conceived by Xiahou Zuo, and the fine details had been worked out by Xie Xiu.

“There is a fourth option.”

Li Chi urged his horse forward: “I’ll go ask Yang Dingfang whether he intends to surrender.”

Everyone was startled. Seeing Li Chi had already spurred his horse forward, they quickly rode after him.

Li Chi led the way, galloping toward the Heavenly Mandate Army’s camp. Behind him, a great mass of people swept along in his wake.

At once, the Heavenly Mandate Army camp grew tense. War horns rang out, and troops rapidly assembled.

Li Chi was no reckless man — this sudden advance was also a way of gauging the response of this force.

In moments, the Heavenly Mandate Army had already completed its defensive positioning. So Li Chi understood clearly: those three offensive plans would not work.

With Yang Dingfang commanding like this and his soldiers so well-trained and disciplined, the Ning Army’s forces combined with Xie Xiu’s Jingzhou troops were indeed somewhat greater in number — but in a direct assault, the casualties would be devastating.

Li Chi’s approach to battle had never included suffering devastating losses.

What Xiahou Zuo and Xie Xiu had prepared was indeed thorough — but it could be summed up in four words: sound but ordinary. Fighting this kind of battle, being sound but ordinary meant paying a terrible price — a hundred and fifty thousand troops in tight defensive formation, and the attacking side would be cut down in swaths from the very beginning.

When he was still some three or four li from the Heavenly Mandate Army’s camp, Li Chi stopped. He reached out for his iron-backed bow, had a message written on a slip of paper and bound to an arrow, and sent it arcing toward the camp.

Standing inside, Yang Dingfang watched and gave a cold laugh — at three or four li, how could an arrow possibly fly this far?

Laughing the cold laugh, the arrow arrived. With a crack it buried itself in the shield of a soldier standing nearby.

Because the arrow had been launched on such a steep arc it had risen so high as to be almost invisible; by the time it could be seen it was already plummeting downward — fast and high. Not only did the soldier holding the shield get a shock, Yang Dingfang felt his heart lurch too.

Seeing a slip of paper attached, the soldiers rushed forward to pull the arrow out — but the arrowhead had driven itself so deep into the shield that for a moment it could not be pulled free.

With no other recourse, they peeled the message loose and brought it to Yang Dingfang.

He glanced over it, and his expression changed. He murmured to himself: “So it was Prince Ning Li Chi who came in person…”

In the distance, Li Chi reined in his horse and halted.

Yu Jiuling asked: “Boss — do you think that Yang Dingfang fellow dares to come out and meet you?”

Li Chi smiled and said: “Actually, it doesn’t matter whether he comes out to meet me or not. I only wanted to let him know — that I am here.”

Yu Jiuling suddenly understood.

This was — applying pressure?