It had been over ten days with no assault from outside the walls, yet the longer it went on, the more the defenders on the battlements felt as though storm clouds were pressing down upon them.

Zeng Ling recalled what Liu Ge had once said about Tang Pidi helping Xiahou Zuo defend Jizhou, and decided to follow the same example. He had tents erected along the city wall and took up residence there himself.

But the state of mind of every Jizhou soldier now could not possibly be what it had been then.

Back then, though Jizhou had been thinly garrisoned, a victorious battle had lifted morale — nothing like the encirclement they faced on all four sides now.

Zeng Ling sat on the battlements looking up at the moonlight when suddenly a voice rose from within the city in song. In the stillness of the night, a rough and desolate melody drifted far and wide.

Many heard it. Some rose and moved to the inner edge of the wall, peering down, trying to find who was singing this folk tune that nearly every Jizhou person knew.

*”In the tenth month the autumn winds blow, lanterns of red hang upon the bough — ask what those lanterns might be? Why, a tree full of persimmons aglow…”*

The tune itself had a small, cheerful lilt, yet in this moment, as it floated up to their ears, it somehow filled people’s hearts with nothing but sorrow.

The persimmons turn red in the deep tenth month — but on the walls and below them, blood runs redder still.

Zeng Ling sat and listened, lost gradually in many far-ranging thoughts. He rose and walked to the edge of the battlements, resting his hands on the crenellations and looking out into the dark.

*”The singer sings on, unceasing — yet sorrow in the listener only grows. Idly I grasp a jade-green branch, and force myself to trim a lamp with a distracted soul…”*

Zeng Ling murmured the lines to himself, then suddenly snapped back to awareness.

He turned and ordered, “Go find who is singing down there and bring them to me!”

His personal guards were taken aback, uncertain of the Military Commissioner’s intention, but turned and ran off at once.

Before long, a soldier who appeared to be in his mid-to-late forties was brought up to the battlements. He looked profoundly frightened.

Upon seeing Zeng Ling, the old soldier immediately fell to his knees.

Zeng Ling said furiously, “Who put you up to singing this dirge here to undermine the army’s morale?”

The old soldier was startled and quickly explained, “Your Excellency, no one put me up to anything. The Persimmon Song is one of our Jizhou folk tunes — it is not a dirge. I was just standing watch below and looked up to see the persimmons had turned red on the tree, so I…”

Zeng Ling snorted. “Do not try to deceive me. With the enemy at our gates, you go and sing this kind of mournful song to unsettle the men’s hearts. If no one put you up to it, how could you have done such a thing?”

The old soldier kowtowed repeatedly. “Your Excellency, I have served in the Jizhou army for over ten years — how could I ever seek to undermine morale…”

Just then, Liu Ge came up from below. Seeing the scene, he quickly asked what had happened. Someone gave him a brief account, and Liu Ge stepped forward to intervene. “Your Excellency, the Persimmon Song truly is a tune all Jizhou folk know. It must have been an inadvertent lapse on his part.”

“Be silent.”

“I just heard that melody,” Zeng Ling said, “and felt a wave of grief well up unbidden — it was only then that I saw clearly: this is someone using such means to undermine our spirit. The intent is vicious. If I am not mistaken, this man must have been bought off by Li Chi or Luo Jing.”

He waved his hand. “Take him down and torture him for a confession. I want to know who put him up to this.”

“Your Excellency,” Liu Ge said, “I know this man. He has been in the army for over ten years — he was already here before Your Excellency came to Jizhou.”

Zeng Ling turned a furrowed brow toward Liu Ge. “Are you saying I am wrong?”

Liu Ge quickly bowed. “I would not dare, Your Excellency… Perhaps allow me to question him myself. I will get to the bottom of it.”

“You?”

Zeng Ling said, “And what have you been doing these past ten-odd days? I’ve been told that every day you go down from the wall, you simply let your men wander the city while you find somewhere to sleep. Do you think I don’t know?”

Liu Ge raised his head and looked at Zeng Ling for a moment, then quickly lowered it again.

“I… accept the reprimand.”

Zeng Ling pointed at the old soldier. “Take him down and subject him to severe questioning. If he won’t talk, beat him to death. It makes no difference.”

“Yes, sir!”

His personal guards replied and dragged the old soldier away. The old soldier wailed and pleaded all the way, but it was of no consequence.

“Liu Ge.”

Zeng Ling looked at Liu Ge, enunciating each word: “You have disappointed me greatly. If this continues, you and your men will come back up to the walls. When the enemy attacks, you and your people will be the first sent over the top.”

Liu Ge raised his head again and looked at Zeng Ling. Their eyes met for a moment before Liu Ge bowed his head. “Starting tomorrow, I will take all my men and search. We will dig through every inch of the city until we find them.”

Zeng Ling let out a breath, and his tone softened somewhat. He looked at Liu Ge and said, “Of all the people in this city, you are the one I trust most. That is why I have entrusted this to you. Do not disappoint me again.”

Liu Ge acknowledged the words, his feelings tangled and unresolvable. Not wanting to linger, he begged leave and withdrew.

Below the wall there was no more singing — only the sound of a lash and cries of pain.

Those sounds, too, had ceased to be rough and desolate. They were shrill and hoarse now — and those who had never experienced such things might not understand how a sound could be both shrill and hoarse at once, contradiction and all.

Back in his own camp below the wall, Liu Ge sat in his tent thinking for a very long time.

Over ten days ago, while patrolling the city, he had encountered Tang Pidi. Tang Pidi’s parting words still surfaced in his mind from time to time.

*A general upholds loyalty and honor —*

*Life and death he need not fear.*

*Yet thousands march beneath his banner —*

*Does the general spare a thought for them?*

His answer to Tang Pidi at the time had been: give him a little more time. He had not explained himself to Tang Pidi — he only wanted, in these last days, to do a little more for Commissioner Zeng.

To find Luo Jing would be to find a way out for Zeng Ling — a narrow path, perhaps, but a path nonetheless.

But now, in this moment, Liu Ge had no intention of searching any further.

Deep in the night, Liu Ge rose and stepped out of his tent. The guards at the entrance saluted at once. He said nothing, and strode off into the darkness.

Walking alone and silent down the street, Liu Ge suddenly threw back his head and bellowed — a raw, vast, desolate sound.

*”In the tenth month the autumn winds blow, lanterns of red hang upon the bough — ask what those lanterns might be, oh — why, a tree full of persimmons all aglow.”*

—

Ten more days.

Counting from the Yanshan Camp’s relocation to the northern approach, over twenty days had now passed. The Yanshan Camp had built siege equipment in vast quantities.

The morning of the previous day, Yu Chaozong had sent a messenger south to Liu Li’s forces, reporting that his side was fully prepared and that he intended to launch a major assault today.

Liu Li had the messenger carry back his reply to Yu Chaozong: the moment the Yanshan Camp attacked, the Yuzhou army would attack simultaneously.

The twenty-seventh day of the tenth month. Skies clear and bright.

Yu Chaozong washed his face to sharpen his mind. He had slept little the previous night, and went over his assault plan carefully one more time.

When he emerged from his tent, the commanders of the Yanshan Camp were arrayed in two rows on either side, waiting for him. They bowed as one.

“Chang Dingzhou.”

Yu Chaozong called the name as he walked. “I’m entrusting you with the opening wave.”

Chang Dingzhou, one of the Yanshan Camp’s chief lieutenants, grinned and clasped his hands. “Leave it to me, Chief.”

An hour later, the war drums began.

Tens of thousands of Yanshan Camp soldiers pressed toward Jizhou, each formation bearing tall infantry shields fashioned from every material they could find — rectangular shield walls advancing steadily forward.

Behind the shield formations, enormous siege tower wagons rolled slowly forward on beds of wooden rollers. Each tower wagon could support dozens of archers on its platform, and their height exceeded Jizhou’s city walls by some measure.

The commander of the northern wall’s defenders immediately sent runners to notify Zeng Ling — but before the runner had even made it to the southern part of the city, the horns on the southern wall had already begun to sound.

This was a war. It was also a slaughter.

The moment the drums and horns rang out, human lives became instruments — and the people whose lives they were did not even know it.

One day. Two days. Three days…

The assault continued without pause, day and night.

With a force of over a hundred thousand, the Yanshan Camp could rotate their troops in shifts, pressing the Jizhou defenders without a moment’s respite.

Some seventy or eighty *li* from Jizhou, Prince Wu’s great army had halted to rest for over twenty days now. Prince Wu was waiting.

The position where the army had stopped was beyond any distance a besieging force’s scouts could reach — and any scout who made it there would not make it back.

The army was here, but Prince Wu was not.

This man, known throughout all of Dachu as a godlike general, had spent the last several days observing the battle at Jizhou’s walls, accompanied by only a few dozen personal guards.

He was positioned directly north of Jizhou, behind Yu Chaozong’s main camp — as though the hundred-plus-thousand-strong Green-Browed Army was not worth a second thought.

Up on a hillside, Prince Wu Yang Jiju raised his far-seeing glass and observed. This was his fifth day watching.

“Jizhou is close to falling.”

Prince Wu lowered the glass and exhaled slowly. He could not help but regard this man called Yu Chaozong with a measure of new respect.

Yu Chaozong’s assault had not been hasty. Each day had unfolded within his plans. Though daily casualties were not small, all the siege tower wagons had been moved into position, and barring any unforeseen development, he would give the order for an all-out assault very soon.

The Yanshan Camp’s soldiers had pressed forward behind their shield formations to the base of the walls, packing earth and sandbags. In five days, the earthen ramp had nearly reached a usable height.

“Let’s go.”

Prince Wu handed the far-seeing glass to a guard and turned to leave.

“My lord,” someone asked, “are we returning to the main camp?”

“No.”

Prince Wu walked as he spoke. “We’re going to pay a visit to Luo Geng.”

The guards were all taken aback. They numbered only a few dozen — and the Grand General intended to walk straight into Luo Geng’s Youzhou army camp?

“What are you afraid of?”

Prince Wu mounted his horse and shook the reins. “I’ve been out here for days and I want some meat. Come with me to Luo Geng’s camp for meat and wine. We’ll take a hot bath while we’re at it.”

The old general spurred his horse and charged ahead first.

—

The first day of the eleventh month. The sky had turned overcast — by the look of it, the first snow might not be far off.

This was the sixth day of the Yanshan Camp and the Yuzhou army’s assault on Jizhou. Early that morning, Prince Wu Yang Jiju woke in a tent within the Youzhou army’s camp.

He had drunk a little wine the night before and slept very well.

He rose, stretched, and walked to the entrance of the tent. Youzhou’s Great General Luo Geng was already outside waiting. When he saw Prince Wu emerge, Luo Geng bowed at once.

“My respects, Your Highness.”

“You’re up so early? You were drunker than I was last night.”

Prince Wu smiled and said, “It seems you were playing me during the drinking last night — that drunkenness was an act.”

Luo Geng smiled. “I admit it, Your Highness. I was afraid of missing today’s business, so last night I spat out more than half of everything I was poured.”

Prince Wu burst out laughing. “You cunning old devil… Since you weren’t truly drunk, let us go together and see how this Yanshan Camp chief Yu Chaozong takes the city.”

He spoke as they walked. “No more games next time we drink.”

Luo Geng said, “The next time we drink will be the victory feast. I will drink as much as Your Highness commands.”

“Not for me,” Prince Wu said.

He glanced back at Luo Geng. “The Emperor has arrived.”

Luo Geng’s heart jolted.

Prince Wu smiled. “My congratulations in advance, Great General. His Majesty intends to reward you — a reward without precedent, I’m told. In all the years since Dachu was founded, you will be the first.”

—