From dawn to dusk, the Yongzhou Army maintained the pressure of a grinding assault — yet accomplished almost nothing. They had barely come close to the walls.

The scattered few who reached the base amounted to nothing and could be safely ignored.

Having this small city to defend — it had to be said, the Ning Army had been truly fortunate.

The slope alone was hard enough to climb. The one paved road led straight to the sealed gate, and the gate was sealed solid. The battering ram the Yongzhou forces had improvised couldn’t even be brought up the ramp — and even if it could, it would have been pointless.

As for the men carrying bamboo ladders, the vast majority never came close to the walls.

The Ning Army poured water down the slope without pause. The ground grew increasingly treacherous; men couldn’t keep their footing, let alone spare the effort to shoot back at the defenders above them.

By the end of a full day of fighting, the Yongzhou Army had left nearly two thousand corpses on the hillside and retreated in disarray.

—

At the Yongzhou Army’s main camp, Han Feibao had watched the battle all day, brow locked in a scowl. He was furious — but not because his men had failed to take the wall.

He was furious because the Ning Army showed no fear.

Any other force, surrounded by ten times their number and under constant assault, would at least be afraid. But look at those soldiers on the wall — not a trace of it. They looked like men who hadn’t merely forgotten how to be afraid, but who would charge down and counterattack the moment Ning King Li Chi gave the word.

Yuan Zhen had stood by Han Feibao’s side all day, watching, and found himself quietly troubled as well. The terrain truly did not allow the Yongzhou Army to press their numerical advantage.

And he had finally witnessed the Ning Army’s combat ability firsthand. Before this, he had half-dismissed the stories.

People had always said Ning King Li Chi had supernatural luck. Watching now, he thought perhaps there was something to that. This tiny, easily overlooked city on the map had become an impregnable fortress for the Ning Army.

“Adviser Yuan — I want a night attack,” Han Feibao said, raising the subject again.

This time, Yuan Zhen did not refuse immediately.

He stood thinking for a long while, then looked at Han Feibao. “A night attack is possible. Tell the assault soldiers: every man carries a bag of earth.”

Han Feibao understood Yuan Zhen’s meaning at once and nodded. “As the adviser says.”

Yuan Zhen stepped to one side and sat, thinking alone about how to deal with the Ning Army’s defenses.

Han Feibao was insisting on a night attack; he probably believed darkness favored him. If Yuan Zhen kept refusing, a man as headstrong as Han Feibao might start pushing back against him. Better to let Han Feibao have his night attack — who knew, it might even succeed.

When darkness fell, Han Feibao ordered his most battle-hardened commander Kuobialie to personally lead ten thousand men in a night assault up the hill.

Every soldier carried a bag of dirt to scatter on the slope as they climbed.

But halfway up, they discovered that the Ning Army hadn’t stopped pouring water. The defenders on the walls were still working without rest, tipping bucket after bucket.

Fortunately, the city had several wells and a mountain spring running through it, so water was no problem.

The mountain at night was pitch dark. To avoid making noise, the Yongzhou soldiers had removed their shoes and were crawling upward through the mud on hands and feet.

When they neared the base of the wall, a man suddenly let out a sharp yell — pure reflex, uncontrollable.

Then the Yongzhou soldiers realized: the Ning Army had scattered iron caltrops at the base of the wall. The spikes had barbs; yanking them out was agony.

That single cry was like a signal. The archers on the wall loosed immediately.

In truth, the Ning Army had spotted the enemy when they were still some distance away.

Li Chi had anticipated a night attack and stationed a large number of soldiers on watch.

Under a dense downpour of arrows, the Yongzhou vanguard took devastating casualties.

Already exposed, Kuobialie simply roared out loud and urged his men forward.

The Yongzhou soldiers charged without concern for their losses, using fallen bodies as stepping stones — dying in layers, climbing in layers.

A scaling ladder went up against the wall. Yongzhou soldiers clenched their knives in their teeth and climbed with hands and feet.

Before they’d gone halfway, Ning soldiers shoved the ladder away with a long bamboo pole. It toppled backward, soldiers spilling off one by one, crashing into those below and taking a few down with them.

The Ning soldiers on the wall loosed arrows one after another, their repeating crossbow reserves not quite adequate, but their regular supply still barely holding. Even if it wasn’t, they couldn’t show that now.

Especially during a night attack — if they slackened the arrows, the enemy would grow bolder.

But under Kuobialie’s relentless driving, with the darkness hiding the scale of the dying, the Yongzhou soldiers’ fear was somewhat dulled. More and more pushed to the base of the wall — a black mass pressing in.

Li Chi turned to his personal guard and ordered: “Use the fire oil. Don’t ration it. We need to make sure they never dare come at night again.”

At his word, soldiers began tipping cauldrons of boiling oil over the edge.

One cauldron after another — and when it hit, the screaming below became one continuous sound.

Men caught directly overhead had the skin and flesh stripped from their faces in an instant. Closing their eyes was useless — even the eyelids cooked. Those who collapsed thrashed and rolled; a man who tried to lift one of them found the skin of the fallen man’s arm sliding off in his grip like a glove.

“Ignite!”

Li Chi bellowed.

Torches went over the wall. Oil meets fire — the blaze spread in an instant.

Below, Yongzhou soldiers twisted and thrashed inside the inferno. Dark shapes sprinted through crimson flames, rolled in them, then staggered down the slope — burning men who ran a few steps before they fell.

The entire base of the wall was burning. The bodies of the Yongzhou soldiers already dead caught and burned as well.

The stench of charred flesh billowed up, forcing the defenders on the wall to cover their mouths and noses with wet cloth.

Black smoke coiled and rose through the flames. That hillside outside the small city had become, in an instant, a vision of hell.

Han Feibao was forced to sound the retreat. The Yongzhou troops still below scrambled back first, then those partway up the slope receded like a tide — fast and complete.

Half a shichen after the Yongzhou Army had pulled back, the fire still hadn’t fully died. But the reek of burning flesh grew only stronger.

No one knew how many had died in the night attack. Yet the smell alone bore witness to the carnage.

Han Feibao walked back to camp with an iron face. He dropped into his seat inside his command tent and flung his riding crop across the room.

“Damn it…”

He muttered the curse low.

Yuan Zhen followed Han Feibao inside, paused, then went and picked up the riding crop and hung it to one side.

He took a seat across from Han Feibao and said quietly: “The Ning Army’s soldiers are hardened veterans — almost every one of them a man who has fought a hundred battles. Your forces, General, are more than half new recruits.”

“So there is no reason to be disheartened. Not every night attack favors the aggressor.”

When the defenders are shorthanded, a night assault can produce extraordinary results by piling on pressure. But the Ning Army had taken almost no significant losses — they had enough men to rotate through watch shifts continuously.

And as for the Ning Army’s equipment — not just the Yongzhou and Shudi forces, but even the Black Martial Army, famous for its fine arms, likely couldn’t match them.

The Black Martial forces had clashed with the Ning Army before. Yuan Zhen had not been on that southern campaign himself, but he had heard the accounts of that battle more times than he could count.

“Tomorrow,” Yuan Zhen said, his tone level. “Have men dispatched to haul sand from the riverbed three or four *li* away.”

“I observed the terrain — the riverbanks are sandy. Bag the sand, and have the assault soldiers carry the bags up with them.”

“That way, the Ning Army’s water-pouring will lose its effect. And the bags can anchor the scaling ladders so they hold better.”

Han Feibao breathed out slowly, letting some of his anger go.

Of course he was impatient. Of course he was furious.

His hundreds of thousands of Yongzhou soldiers had been destroyed by the Ning Army before. Now, finally, he had caught the enemy within reach — how could he not be desperate?

He had expected to overwhelm and crush a few tens of thousands of Ning soldiers quickly. Yet blow after blow, the walls hadn’t even been touched.

That frustration — no one else could understand it.

“The adviser is right. Kuobialie!”

Kuobialie, standing at the tent entrance, stepped forward at once.

Han Feibao said: “Did you hear what Adviser Yuan just said?”

“I heard it all.”

“The sand-hauling tomorrow — it’s yours. Bring back as much as you can.”

“Yes, sir!”

After Kuobialie departed, Yuan Zhen rose and brewed Han Feibao a pot of tea.

“There is no need for such despondency, General.”

Yuan Zhen said: “Try thinking of it another way — look back at before, and consider that you have never come this close to victory. That is already far better than anything that came before. Why let it make you unhappy?”

“In the past, every battle against the Ning Army cost the General dearly, with not a single victory to show for it. And yet you did not give up. Now the General holds every advantage — it’s simply taking longer to win than expected.”

Yuan Zhen let out a quiet breath. “Perhaps… because the past was so crushing, the General has grown impatient.”

“Be at ease, General. This time you have me at your side, and tens of thousands of Iron Crane cavalry ready to support from the north.”

He lifted the teapot and poured a cup.

“If I am not mistaken, ten days is the Ning Army’s limit. Their provisions may hold out — but their weapons and ammunition certainly will not.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“If tomorrow’s assault also fails to achieve results, then… we use the method with the highest casualties.”

Han Feibao asked: “What method does the adviser have in mind? Soldiers’ lives are expendable — I have never cared about that. Send the new recruits at the walls; when they’re gone, conscript more. Just name the plan.”

Yuan Zhen said: “Use men and sandbags. Stack them until they are level with the top of the wall — and then see how Li Chi defends against that.”

Han Feibao paused, then gave a single slow, heavy nod.

—