The Green-Browed Army’s Main Camp

After returning to his command tent, Yu Chaozong let out a long breath. He removed his cloak and handed it to his personal guard, then looked over at Zheng Gongru, who had been waiting the entire time, and asked, “You’ve been here all along?”

Zheng Gongru bowed and said, “The chief gave instructions before leaving that he wished to discuss something with me upon his return, so I didn’t dare leave.”

Yu Chaozong smiled and said, “You could have gone back to rest. If I needed you after coming back, I would have sent someone.”

Zheng Gongru reached out to take the cloak, signaling for the personal guards to step outside. Yu Chaozong’s guards glanced at him, their expressions carrying a faint undercurrent of displeasure.

After hanging the cloak, Zheng Gongru said, “Chief, how did the meeting go? I’d wager Luo Geng is up to something again.”

This was the sort of remark that sounds clever but is entirely without use.

“That old fox Luo Geng,” Yu Chaozong said, “was secretly sending me word before, saying he wanted to eliminate Cui Yanlai. I’d guess that by now he’s already turned his thoughts to eliminating me as well.”

Zheng Gongru smiled. “If he truly means to move against the Yanshan Camp right away, then Luo Geng is nothing but a fool. The way I see it, he’ll likely wait until after the city falls — he wants to play the fisherman and claim the spoils.”

Yu Chaozong made a sound of agreement and walked to his chair, sitting down. He drew out a wooden case, intending to take his medicine, then suddenly remembered that Zheng Gongru was still present. He feigned reaching for something else and set the case back down.

“Luo Geng wants me to attack the western and northern gates.”

“Though our forces are more than adequate,” Yu Chaozong said, “the Jizhou army has already sealed all six city gates from within — they cannot sortie. There is no need for us to attack on two fronts simultaneously. The drain on our forces would be too severe.”

Zheng Gongru said, “Luo Geng and Liu Li must have already discussed this between themselves. Luo Geng has pulled back and handed the fighting to our Yanshan Camp and the Yuzhou army — each attacking on two fronts, all at once. The toll on our forces would be unimaginable. And Luo Geng’s withdrawal is nothing but an effort to preserve his own strength.”

He glanced at Yu Chaozong and continued. “Luo Geng and Liu Li want to use the siege to drain our strength. Liu Li will feign an attack, put on a show, and leave us to bear the brunt. Jizhou is so formidable that even if we take it, we will have lost untold numbers of men.”

Yu Chaozong regarded Zheng Gongru with appreciation. What Zheng Gongru had said was precisely what he himself had been thinking.

He could see it clearly too — Luo Geng and Liu Li wanted nothing more than to let the siege consume the strength of both the Yanshan Camp and the Jizhou army.

Their fondest hope would be for the Yanshan Camp and the Jizhou army to bleed each other white, after which Luo Geng and Liu Li could move in and tidy up what remained without so much as breaking a sweat.

“Men as arrogant as Luo Geng and Liu Li — how could they ever speak honestly with me? How could they ever look upon me as an equal?”

Yu Chaozong sighed. “Even though I command an army of over a hundred thousand, in Luo Geng’s and Liu Li’s eyes, I am and always will be nothing but a brigand…”

As those words left his mouth, something complex flickered in his eyes and vanished in an instant.

Zheng Gongru happened to catch it. Turning it over in his mind, he guessed that among the complexities there must have been, inevitably, a thread of self-contempt.

Never mind that men like Luo Geng and Liu Li looked down on the rebel forces — in the depths of his own heart, Yu Chaozong had never truly stopped looking down on them either.

Yu Chaozong could not be called a man of distinguished lineage, yet his father had governed a provincial prefecture, and from childhood the teachings he had received were nothing like those of ordinary commoners.

His father’s acquaintances, one could assume, were men of learning — no common lot passed through those doors.

So Zheng Gongru laughed coldly to himself, inwardly.

“If Luo Geng wants me to walk into his trap, how could I fall for his scheme so easily?”

Yu Chaozong said, “Issue orders to deploy three to five thousand men toward the western gate. Have them march into the western camp that Luo Geng vacated, and tell them to kick up a great cloud of dust on the march — fly the banners of twenty thousand.”

Zheng Gongru immediately said with admiration, “A brilliant stratagem, Chief.”

“We will attack only the northern gate,” Yu Chaozong said. “If something goes wrong, the main army can still fall back northward… My second brother’s valor is beyond compare. Have him…”

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly stunned, then let out a long sigh.

He had momentarily forgotten — Zhuang Wudi had already left the camp.

“Alas…”

Zheng Gongru sighed and said, “It is all my fault. I offended the deputy chief, and it is his anger at me that caused him to leave without a word. If I hadn’t argued with him that day, he wouldn’t have left right when the chief needs every capable man.”

Zheng Gongru said with a look of remorse, “Now that the chief needs a brave general to lead the assault, the deputy chief would be most suited for it — yet it is because of me that he left. Allow me to go find him and bring him back. Even if I must kneel before him, I will kneel until he returns.”

Yu Chaozong’s expression darkened. He looked at Zheng Gongru and said, “What does my second brother’s temporary absence have to do with you? He is not a narrow-minded man. If he left, it may simply be that he has returned to the mountain stronghold.”

He took a sip of tea and said, “Chang Dingsui’s valor is no less than my second brother’s. I have already sent someone to summon Chang Dingzhou — the two brothers together, commanding the troops, will be more than sufficient.”

He looked at Zheng Gongru and said, “Starting tomorrow, go and oversee the construction of siege equipment. There is no urgency to attack — a large quantity of equipment must be built first. I seized some tower wagons from the Qingzhou army, but nowhere near enough.”

“The archers on Jizhou’s walls are devastating. We will need shield formations to advance under cover. In addition to building siege tower wagons, we must also construct a great number of shields — use the tower wagons to suppress the archers on the walls, and press forward behind shield formations to reach the base of the walls.”

“The tower wagons from the Qingzhou army,” Yu Chaozong continued, “can hold dozens of soldiers. I have examined them closely. With modifications, soldiers can board from the rear and leap from the top tier directly onto the battlements.”

Zheng Gongru said, “In addition, we can rally all the troops: during the assault, have every man carry a sack of earth. They stack the earth at the base of Jizhou’s wall, with the shield formations providing cover. Even if we must build a ramp entirely by brute effort, ten-odd days should be enough.”

Yu Chaozong furrowed his brow slightly. “With an approach like that, the casualties will be horrific.”

“Even with casualties, it matters little,” Zheng Gongru said. “We have tens of thousands of Qingzhou army prisoners — use them to haul the earth.”

Yu Chaozong was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “But those are elite soldiers, battle-hardened men…”

Zheng Gongru’s mind stirred.

He immediately ventured a probing remark: “If we use our own men, it would go more smoothly — no risk of the prisoner troops mutinying. As for those elite Qingzhou soldiers, better to hold them in reserve for the assault itself, and have them charge the city defenses.”

Yu Chaozong said nothing — neither agreeing nor refusing.

From the second day onward, tens of thousands of Green-Browed Army soldiers were set to work. They spread out to fell timber and strip nearby villages of anything usable. Most of the settlements in the area had already been abandoned. Door planks, wooden boards — anything serviceable was torn off and carted back.

Strangely, the less urgency shown in attacking, the greater the pressure on Jizhou’s defenders. From the walls, they watched their enemies bustle about day after day, watched the tower wagons destined to be hurled against them multiply steadily in number. Their state of mind could easily be imagined.

And in those days, the city itself was far from quiet.

Zeng Ling had ordered a search through the city for Luo Jing, but this was merely a pretext. What he truly wanted was to find where Luo Jing was hiding — or where Li Chi was hiding.

The more patiently the besiegers prepared outside, the less patience Zeng Ling had within, and the more afraid he became. He understood clearly now that what his eyes could see was not the full extent of the enemy he faced.

Even if he managed to destroy every last soldier of that army of over three hundred thousand outside his walls, Jizhou would still fall — because what was coming would come, sooner or later.

General Liu Ge had been ordered to patrol the city, but his heart grew heavier with each passing day. He had guessed at what the Military Commissioner intended, and it troubled him deeply.

Tens of thousands of soldiers and officers were preparing to lay down their lives for the Commissioner — yet the Commissioner was thinking only of how to hide himself away.

Before all this, Liu Ge had never once doubted the Commissioner’s genuine regard for those beneath him. He had always believed he had chosen the right man to follow.

And yet these past few days, every time he returned, Zeng Ling would be waiting to ask, impatiently, whether anything had been found. Every question was a fresh wound on Liu Ge’s heart.

He thought to himself: what is there to fear, beyond life and death?

The soldiers were willing to fight to the last. That did not mean the city must fall. And even if it did, dying side by side with his brothers in arms was enough.

Live together, die together.

Liu Ge raised his eyes to the sky — overcast, threatening rain. He didn’t particularly care. His heart was more overcast than any sky.

“You keep searching ahead.”

Liu Ge waved his hand, signaling the troops to press on.

He glanced back. He had been sitting on the steps of an abandoned Temple of the Master. After a moment’s silence, he rose and stepped inside.

The clay effigy of Master Zhou appeared to have been repaired by someone — mottled, but intact. He found himself wondering who it was that could still find the heart to tend to old Master Zhou.

The last time he had come in, long ago, the effigy had already crumbled badly.

“General.”

Just as Liu Ge stood there lost in thought, a voice suddenly spoke, giving him a start. He instantly gripped the handle of his blade.

“Who’s there!”

“Tang Pidi.”

At that name, Liu Ge’s expression shifted sharply — yet his hand on the hilt, unbidden, relaxed.

Tang Pidi walked slowly out from behind the effigy and clasped his hands toward Liu Ge in greeting.

Liu Ge stared at Tang Pidi and said, “You dare appear before me. Are you not afraid I’ll drag you back with me?”

Tang Pidi said evenly, “First, you won’t fight me. Second, you couldn’t beat me — not even two of you.”

Tang Pidi glanced outside. Liu Ge’s soldiers had already moved on.

He sat down on the temple steps and said, “I only want to ask the General one question.”

By now Liu Ge had likely already guessed what was coming, so he shook his head: “If I were to go now, I would be betraying duty, betraying my station, betraying my own conscience.”

Tang Pidi nodded. “I have a rough sense of what the General thinks. I came anyway — not because I couldn’t let it go, but because Li Chi couldn’t.”

He looked at Liu Ge and said, “Li Chi asked me to come persuade you. I told him: General Liu is exactly the kind of commander who would rather die in battle than retreat — even fighting to the last for someone who never deserved it. I told him you would die in loyal devotion, that this was your choice, that no one understands a soldier’s mind better than I do. For a man like you, General, dying in battle is both an ending and a release — even an act of fulfillment. But Li Chi felt it was still worth trying.”

“I said to Li Chi: why bother? Li Chi said…” Tang Pidi paused. “He said General Liu is a friend.”

He rose and dusted off the back of his trousers.

“I’ve said what I came to say. If it were up to me alone, I would not have said any of this — because if I were in your position, I would most likely make the same choice. What of it? One dies in battle.”

With that, Tang Pidi turned and walked toward the rear of the temple, raising a hand in a parting gesture.

“Until we never meet again.”

The words had barely left his mouth before he was nearly out of the temple.

Liu Ge watched Tang Pidi’s retreating figure. After a long silence, he murmured two words to himself, his eyes faintly reddening.

“Thank you.”

Just then, Tang Pidi suddenly turned back and asked, “What if we could save you and your men? You command several thousand soldiers, do you not, General?”

Liu Ge’s eyes flew wide open.

—