Xu Heihu rode to the edge of Mengguangu’s wooden palisade and drew up short. He didn’t dare get too close. He knew these people were fully capable of killing him.
The villagers here were all stubborn, difficult people. They appeared to have no understanding of fear whatsoever, and no idea of when to submit.
Threaten them and they’d slap you with a shoe. Attack them and they’d come at you with hoes intent on taking your life.
He was here to deliver the Mountain-Calling King’s ultimatum. But he was certain that if he drew too close, these people would loose arrows at him before he could say a word.
And if they were out of arrows, they’d stone him to death. If they ran out of stones, they’d spit on him.
“People of Mengguangu, hear me!”
Xu Heihu called out in a loud voice: “The Mountain-Calling King’s great army has arrived! Further resistance is pointless. The Mountain-Calling King is merciful — he understands that the common people of Mengguangu never had any desire to oppose the Shanhai Army of their own free will, and were only deceived and exploited by those criminals. As long as you are willing, before noon tomorrow, to hand over the people who are being harbored here, the Mountain-Calling King will spare every soul in Mengguangu — not a single one will die!”
He raised a hand and pointed at the palisade wall: “But if you continue to resist, the Mountain-Calling King’s great army will raze Mengguangu to the ground — slaughter the settlement and the stronghold without distinction. Men, women, young and old alike — none will be spared!”
He finished and waited. No response came from the Mengguangu palisade.
Xu Heihu grew inwardly furious. He glanced back toward where the Mountain-Calling King was, thinking that if he returned empty-handed like this, he’d likely be rebuked, so he called out several more times.
“The Mountain-Calling King’s authority is not to be defied! If you persist in your delusion, Mengguangu will truly run with blood!”
He finished and waited again. At last a figure appeared at the edge of the palisade wall, stood there, and waved at him.
That person shouted: “Your voice is too low — can’t hear you. Come closer and speak!”
Xu Heihu thought: *Do you take me for an idiot?*
The figure seemed to confer with someone nearby, then shouted again.
“We know the Mountain-Calling King is here, and we’re rather frightened, truth be told. So we’ve been thinking it over, and we’ve decided to offer the Mountain-Calling King a precious gift. If the Mountain-Calling King likes it, perhaps he’ll take it and leave, and not come back.”
Xu Heihu shouted: “Throw the thing out!”
The man shouting was Elder An. He gave a short laugh: “Aren’t you worried it’ll get dirty landing on the ground, and that will displease your Mountain-Calling King?”
Xu Heihu: “Then send someone to bring it out!”
Elder An said: “Never mind — let’s just throw it. The Mountain-Calling King is particularly fond of this sort of thing anyway, so he probably won’t mind whether it’s dirty or not.”
He took hold of something and hurled it with all his strength.
The object spun through the air and landed with a crack not far from Xu Heihu.
Xu Heihu ordered men to go pick it up. His soldiers were reluctant to get too close either — a few of them moved forward with shields up, protecting the one among them who actually picked the thing up.
The man’s face changed immediately, going visibly unpleasant.
Xu Heihu said: “Will you bring it back or not?!”
The soldier who’d picked it up found himself in an impossible position — bring it back and get berated, leave it and get berated.
He steeled himself and brought it back. Very carefully, he said: “Lord Jiu, perhaps it’s best not to let the Mountain-Calling King see this.”
Xu Heihu held out his hand: “Hand it over!”
The man hesitated. Xu Heihu snatched it: “What, are you planning to keep it for yourself?!”
The man muttered: “I really wouldn’t want to keep this…”
And that was when Xu Heihu saw: what he’d snatched was a bone.
From the palisade wall, Elder An bellowed: “I know your Mountain-Calling King has a special affinity for this sort of thing, dirty or not! Let him take it back and gnaw on it! And if one isn’t enough… I’m afraid there’s no helping that. Mengguangu is a very poor place — we only have the one such treasure. Can’t come up with more. After all, our village dogs are rather fond of them too.”
Xu Heihu exploded in fury: “You people genuinely want to die!”
Elder An laughed heartily: “Well, of course we do! Have you only just noticed? That’s always been the way of Mengguangu’s people.”
Xu Heihu rode back with a black expression, not daring to show the bone to Lu Wuman. He could only recount the whole affair verbally.
Upon hearing it, Lu Wuman actually smiled. He did not appear to be angry.
“Pass the order: ready the siege equipment. Tomorrow, we take Mengguangu…”
He paused.
“Slaughter it.”
He rose: “Raise my command tent as quickly as possible. I need to rest.”
“Yes, my king!”
Xu Heihu and the others responded at once, bowing and keeping their heads low as they followed behind Lu Wuman.
The Shanhai Army’s troops began at once to haul the siege equipment forward, assembling and preparing it in front of the formation.
Among the equipment were compact tower carriages — once assembled, they stood roughly two zhang high, each capable of holding seven or eight archers.
There was also a battering ram: a massive wooden frame from which a colossal, enormously heavy beam of timber was suspended, its striking end sheathed in iron plating.
This battering ram had more than enough force to breach Mengguangu’s wooden gate — after all, Mengguangu was a wooden palisade, not a stone city.
The remaining men began setting up camp. In this bitter cold, failing to raise tents meant risking being frozen to death in the night.
Deep in the night.
Lu Wuman sat alone in his command tent reading. The iron mask had been removed and set aside. He only took it off when no one was present. His missing eye was now his greatest torment.
Every time he looked in a mirror, he would involuntarily think back to the man who had stabbed out his eye.
Every last person under Ning Wang Li Chi seemed to be made of the same stubborn, unyielding material. They would rather die than yield.
And the people of Mengguangu were the same — and the moment he saw it, he thought of those people under Li Chi, and the killing intent rose in him all over again.
At that moment, someone called softly from outside the tent door — evidently afraid to raise their voice and disturb his rest.
By the sound, it was Xu Heihu.
Lu Wuman picked up the iron mask and put it back on, then answered: “Come in.”
Xu Heihu entered and immediately dropped to his knees: “Paying respects to the Great King.”
Lu Wuman asked: “This late — what is it?”
Xu Heihu said: “Great King, when we take the city tomorrow, this subordinate wishes to request that the Great King assign men to me. I would ask the Great King to give me the task of putting the settlement to the sword.”
Lu Wuman smiled: “Shame driving you to valor — that much I find admirable. Since you have come to ask, I’ll grant your wish. Tomorrow’s main assault is yours to command.”
“Many thanks to the Great King!”
Xu Heihu knocked his head to the ground again, and for the first time felt he could draw a proper breath. Whatever death sentence lingered over this failure — as long as he personally broke open Mengguangu and left not a blade of grass standing, it could truly be considered forgiven.
Though the Mountain-Calling King had said earlier that the death penalty was no longer on the table, Xu Heihu didn’t feel easy about it.
The Mountain-Calling King’s temperament had always been cold and ruthless. Since losing his eye, it had grown even more frightening.
He was unpredictable. He killed without hesitation. Yesterday he might be singing a man’s praises; tomorrow that same man’s head might be decorating a flagpole.
As one of the men who had followed the Mountain-Calling King from the very beginning, Xu Heihu understood his lord’s nature better than most.
“Go.”
Lu Wuman waved a hand: “No other business — don’t come disturbing me again.”
“Yes, yes, at once…”
Xu Heihu answered hastily, bowed low, and said: “Then this subordinate will take his leave.”
He had barely turned toward the exit when a commotion rose outside — the sounds of something happening.
Xu Heihu glanced back at Lu Wuman, then swept the tent flap aside and charged out.
The moment he stepped through the door, he saw firelight flickering in the distance.
“The audacity!”
Xu Heihu bellowed, and led his men running at full speed toward the flames.
In the circle of firelight, Qiao Mo was fighting with a few dozen of his men. They had been surrounded on all sides, and had no thought whatsoever of retreat.
“Brothers!”
Qiao Mo’s body bore numerous wounds, old and new together. In this renewed fighting, the wounds had torn open again, and blood was seeping freely. His face had gone white.
But his hand held its saber steady. Every stroke cut down another enemy who rushed at him.
“We brought this trouble on the people of Mengguangu. Let us spend our lives so that the villagers may have a chance to live!”
He roared, his voice raw and hoarse.
“Yes!”
His personal guards answered as one. Every man’s eyes held the same certainty — a calm, resolute readiness to die.
Late in the night, Qiao Mo had taken his few dozen personal guards, slipped quietly over the wooden wall, brought fire oil, and carried shields on their backs. They had crawled forward across the snow and waited.
After a Shanhai Army patrol had passed by, they charged into the area where the siege equipment was kept, doused it with oil, and set it alight.
But they knew that massive timbers like the battering ram would not burn easily or quickly. So they had made no plans to come back alive.
After setting the fire, they had taken their shields and made a stand — keeping the Shanhai Army from rushing forward to fight the flames.
By now they were completely surrounded.
“Let this blood wash the sins from my body. Let this life make restitution to those whose deaths I caused.”
Behind Qiao Mo, the fires blazed and roared.
The Shanhai Army could never have imagined it. The people inside that tiny settlement — those mountain villagers — actually dared to come out and burn their siege equipment.
That fire lit up the tower carriages and the battering ram. And it lit something in the Shanhai Army soldiers too — their rage ignited alongside it.
Xu Heihu came charging to the scene, and the moment he saw the tower carriages and the battering ram burning, his eyes went red in an instant.
“Kill them!”
Xu Heihu’s roar tore out of him.
Arrows fell in a dense black rain. The shields Qiao Mo’s men were holding were already bristling with shafts.
Men fell with arrows in them. They tried to force themselves back to their feet.
“The name of the White Mountain Army!”
Qiao Mo bellowed: “We’ve come to save it!”
“None of us are cowards. We are not the kind who only knows how to prey on common people. We are the men of Yanzhou!”
On the wooden wall, Elder An had received word and came running. When he made it up top, he looked out and saw the endless mass of Shanhai Army troops closing in around that point of fire.
“With me — we go and bring them back!”
Elder An shouted, grabbing a weapon and turning to go down.
“Elder An!”
Little Seven caught Elder An by the arm. Both of Little Seven’s eyes were full of tears, and the hand holding Elder An was shaking.
“Don’t go, Elder An.”
Little Seven’s voice trembled: “If you go, you can’t bring them back — and more villagers will die. My general wouldn’t want that.”
Elder An froze, and his own eyes reddened.
Little Seven slowly dropped to his knees, facing the direction of the firelight, and bowed his head to the ground again and again. After several kowtows, he called out in that direction: “General — brothers — may you go well on your way!”
Elder An’s knees buckled and he knelt on one leg, clasped his fists, and called: “Brothers — may you go well on your way!”
In the Shanhai Army’s camp, Qiao Mo seemed to hear Little Seven’s cry. He looked back once, then burst into open laughter.
“I have no regrets!”
He laughed and shouted, and turned toward the battering ram: “Even in death — not by their hands!”
The remaining thirty-odd personal guards charged with him toward the battering ram. Their clothing had already been soaked in fire oil. They had been ready for exactly this end.
Together they embraced the battering ram — the instrument that could have broken open the wooden palisade. Within moments the flames had spread to every one of them.
In the inferno, they held hands. They held each other’s hands around that battering ram, every man trembling, yet every hand locked tight with the ones beside it.
In the fire, dozens of souls rose toward heaven.