Poor Old Schoolmaster Zhang.

A man of such advanced years — and one who had just reached the pinnacle of his life — now being dragged around the city walls day and night by a young scout, eating and sleeping in the wind and rain.

This humiliation was… something he simply had to endure.

Because on the evening of the third day, the men who had been sent to keep watch at the coast came running back, reporting that many enormous sea vessels had been spotted dropping anchor offshore.

Knowing that the Sang forces had truly arrived, Old Schoolmaster Zhang had no choice but to perform — just as Tang Qingyuan had said: *You carry great prestige; so long as you stand on the walls, the people will draw deep courage from your presence.*

So endure it he did. At least, given his advanced age, Tang Qingyuan would not truly force him to fight alongside the younger men.

On the morning of the fourth day, Sang scouts appeared openly outside Liaocheng, stopping at roughly three or four li from the walls, raising spyglasses and peering at the city for a long while.

Then the scouts withdrew — presumably to report back.

Old Schoolmaster Zhang was taut with anxiety and couldn’t help but ask Tang Qingyuan: “These eastern sea barbarians — now that they’ve seen we’ve made preparations, might they be frightened off and decide not to attack?”

Tang Qingyuan said: “They have seen that we’ve made preparations — so they will certainly come to attack.”

Old Schoolmaster Zhang grew even more anxious: “Why… why is that?”

Tang Qingyuan said: “Because they have seen no Ning army battle flags on the walls, and they have seen no soldiers in military armor. What they have seen is a group of civilians who have armed themselves. So they will come to attack very soon.”

Old Schoolmaster Zhang’s face fell: “Then… wasn’t all our preparation for nothing?”

Tang Qingyuan finally broke from his composure, looking at the old man with a pitying gaze.

“Without preparation, we die even faster.”

With those words, Tang Qingyuan went off to make his rounds of the walls. He had to check and re-check everything once more — because he was defending this city with a force of ordinary commoners against tens of thousands of Sang troops.

In the armory there were still some bows and arrows that had been stockpiled by the Slaughter King Army — these had been brought up to the walls. Yet the vast majority of these civilians had no idea how to use them, and many couldn’t even draw a two-stone bow to full draw.

So in this defensive battle, most of the time, the enemy would have to be let come close before they could be struck.

Meanwhile, at the coast.

The scouts returned and gave a full account of what they had observed. Chunbian Chili listened, and then his brow furrowed.

“Our elite scouts — how could they have been detected by a group of ordinary commoners, and likely all killed as well…”

He muttered to himself, completely unable to understand how — in a city with no regular army whatsoever — anyone could have discovered his well-trained operatives.

These operatives were fluent in the Central Plains language, conducted themselves with great caution and care, and moreover, Chunbian Chili had briefed them in exhaustive detail.

He had told those operatives to enter the city when the gates had just opened in the morning. Ordinary people would assume the gate guards were most alert at that hour — but in truth, the vulnerabilities were greatest then: first, the guards had risen at the crack of dawn and were not necessarily truly awake; second, when the gates first opened, many people crowded and jostled to enter, so inspection was never very thorough.

He had also told those operatives to exit the city only when the gates were about to close.

At that time, the gate guards would be eager to go home and rest — especially with those leaving the city, their inspection would certainly be extremely lax.

He had further told those operatives that once they left the city, they should not rush off immediately, because unforeseen variables might arise.

Find a hiding place first. Wait until the dead of night before setting out on the road — at that hour, there was no chance of running into anyone.

Ah — and that was precisely where it went wrong.

If he had told them one fewer thing, his operatives would have slipped away safe and sound.

“Your Highness.”

Chunbian Chili walked before Kuokedi Dashi and bowed: “Our scouts have made a thorough survey. Although the people of Liaocheng are on guard — there are a fair number of people on the walls — not a single one of them is a regular soldier. They are all ordinary commoners.”

Kuokedi Dashi gave a nod: “Your scouts were exposed, which is why the people inside have been put on guard. But that does not change much. Those ordinary civilians will be frightened the moment they see blood, and they will not hold for long.”

He looked at Chunbian Chili: “But we absolutely cannot be as careless as before. We must make thorough preparations before attacking, and aim to take Liaocheng in one decisive strike.”

“Yes, sir!”

Chunbian Chili replied, telling himself that this time, no matter what, he could not afford another defeat.

The Ning army’s main force was in Yanzhou, and most likely had already set out to reinforce the northeastern frontier.

There was simply no significant Ning army presence in this part of Qingzhou — there was nothing to worry about at all.

So this was a city that could not possibly resist being taken — and what was more, the cost would not be very great.

Of course, even with such confidence, Chunbian Chili personally oversaw his forces making their preparations for the assault.

When they had attacked Tuoshan County, they had constructed a number of scaling ladders — most had been abandoned in the rout, but a few had been salvaged.

Chunbian Chili firmly believed: if you have done all the preparation that needs to be done for a task, then even fortune will stand on your side.

This sentiment Li Chi would probably also agree with — the reason it is only “probably” being that Li Chi was not entirely certain whether his fortune would stand with him even when he was unprepared.

On the seventh day after Tang Qingyuan had taken charge of the city — with almost no deviation from his prediction — the Sang forces’ main army appeared outside Liaocheng.

Looking at the people on the walls — tense, some at a loss for what to do with themselves — Tang Qingyuan knew that he now had to rally their spirits.

These were ordinary civilians. They had an innate fear of soldiers, and especially now that the enemy had arrived in such numbers, a dark mass of them pressing forward — how could people who had never fought a battle not be afraid?

“Look.”

Tang Qingyuan pointed at the Sang army outside the city and shouted: “Aren’t the Sang forces all very short?”

That single remark successfully drew many people’s attention away.

They began peering intently, trying to work out whether those Sang soldiers were truly as short as he said.

“I know you’re all a little worried. Facing an enemy army — I was a little scared too when I first entered the city, because I didn’t know the Sang people. That was, until… I killed thirty-some of them by myself and captured two alive.”

Tang Qingyuan said with a smile: “So worry and fear are fine to have. But there’s no need to give those Sang people too much credit. Just remember two things: first, they are not demons or monsters — without a ladder they cannot climb up. So the most important thing is, whenever a ladder touches the wall, push it down. Second: smash their faces. Beat them flat.”

After these words, the mood on the walls lightened noticeably.

Yet Tang Qingyuan was also perfectly clear — if he couldn’t hurt the Sang forces and make them fear them in the opening exchange, the civilians would truly begin to falter.

He turned to those nearby: “Go tell our aunts and older sisters — they can start boiling the water now.”

Behind the walls, many large iron cauldrons had been set up, and the women had already made their preparations, waiting only for the word.

The Sang assault came quickly. They were clearly brimming with confidence.

After all, this wasn’t the Ning army — if they couldn’t handle the Sang, could they really not handle a group of ordinary people?

The dark mass of people surged to the base of the walls. Arrows arced upward in considerable numbers, but the damage they inflicted on the Sang forces was not great.

The Sang forces saw that the archers on the walls shot with such poor skill, and their confidence swelled further.

After pressing to the base of the walls, they began to raise their scaling ladders.

“Throw!”

Tang Qingyuan shouted, and led the way by seizing a stone in his arms and hurling it down.

The townspeople immediately followed — stone after stone raining down — and this crude but brutally effective defensive tactic sent the Sang forces scrambling and stumbling back.

But the Sang force was, after all, trained and disciplined. Their archers began to show their worth, suppressing the defenders on the walls, keeping heads down.

“Shelter behind the battlements!”

Tang Qingyuan shouted even as he ran along the walls: “When throwing stones, be quick about it — don’t stop to see whether you’ve hit anything. Throw and immediately pull your body back!”

He kept moving, kept encouraging.

Then the water boiled.

Strong men carried the great iron cauldrons up to the walls, and poured them down one after another.

With that, the Sang forces no longer dared to linger at the base of the walls, and could only pull back to a slightly farther distance.

“Look!”

Tang Qingyuan shouted: “They’re afraid! They’re pulling back!”

This was naturally a lie — but sometimes, the only way to make people brave is precisely through such a lie.

Whenever a scaling ladder approached, Tang Qingyuan snatched up a long pole: “Like this!”

He thrust the pole outward, straining to push away a ladder that was nearly touching the wall.

Then Tang Qingyuan noticed — and was grateful for it — the Sang forces had not learned how to build the Central Plains-style siege ladders.

Central Plains armies’ siege ladders had hooks at the top — once they hooked onto the wall, they could not be pushed aside horizontally, only shoved forward and toppled outward.

The Sang forces were not adept at this kind of siege warfare — particularly because they were a naval force.

In Sang territory, the strongholds they attacked were mostly wooden palisades, with few great tall stone walls like this.

Those wooden walls could be scaled by hand — even with ladders, they would never need anything this long.

It was not that they were incompetent; the gap was simply one of entirely different environments.

When they attacked Tuoshan County, the walls there were low, and from the start they had not built scaling ladders — the main thrust had been at the city gate. Later, when they did build scaling ladders, they had barely gotten to use them before Xu Ji’s army of a hundred thousand descended and sent them fleeing in panic.

Now they discovered the ladders could be knocked sideways — that simplified things considerably.

And when it truly came to fighting, the townspeople understood there was no way but to grit their teeth and carry on. Flinching now would mean dying far worse deaths later.

The Sang forces’ first attack was fierce but short. Chunbian Chili noticed the flaw as well, and immediately ordered a temporary withdrawal.

Tang Qingyuan had been hoping for exactly this — for them to pull back temporarily, because the townspeople desperately needed their spirits lifted.

The moment the Sang forces retreated, Tang Qingyuan immediately shouted: “They’re afraid! They’ve pulled back!”

A great wave of cheering erupted on the walls, like a series of crashing breakers.

Tang Qingyuan leaned back against the wall and sat down. His expression grew grave — because he had not expected the Sang forces to withdraw so quickly.

Wang Senmao crouched beside him and asked: “We won the first battle. Why do you look unhappy?”

Tang Qingyuan lowered his voice: “We haven’t won yet. The next time the Sang forces attack, it will be harder for us to hold.”

Wang Senmao was taken aback and instinctively asked: “Do you have a plan?”

Tang Qingyuan looked at him and shook his head: “I honestly don’t. A battle like this — it comes down to fortune. If the townspeople’s fighting spirit comes out, we can hold on through sheer force of will. If our luck is bad and the spirit doesn’t come out, we may not survive the next attack.”

Wang Senmao pressed anxiously: “Then what do we do?”

Tang Qingyuan looked toward him: “Go and tell stories to the people.”

“Tell stories?”

Wang Senmao was bewildered.

Tang Qingyuan said: “You’re from Qingzhou. You know how savage those Sang sea raiders are, all the villages they have massacred and families they have wiped out. Gather all three hundred men from the enforcement unit, tell them what you know, and have them spread out and tell the people.”

Wang Senmao asked: “Will it work?”

Tang Qingyuan rose to his feet and rested a hand against the wall, looking out beyond the city.

After a long silence, he answered: “We can only hope it does.”

—