It appeared as though the Hewu forces were too impatient to even muster their troops properly, having already dispatched an advance force of roughly forty to fifty thousand men to take up position not far outside Beishan Pass.
And so when Li Chi witnessed this, he couldn’t help but look upon the Hewu commanding general with new eyes.
A man who had arrived leading a million soldiers, yet remained this careful and cautious — his character was plain to see.
This advance force of fifty thousand had not come to assault the city, nor to provoke. They had simply positioned themselves right at the enemy’s doorstep and watched.
A great army newly arrived at any location must construct camp fortifications and build out its garrison — the sheer scale of what was required for a million-man force could only be imagined. These fifty thousand stood as a watchful guard, wary of any surprise attack from the Ning forces.
By conventional logic, such a thing was impossible. The Ning army, with barely over thirty thousand troops, could not conceivably launch a raid against a million-strong force — even with the Hewu still fatigued from their long march and not yet fully settled.
And yet he had arranged it exactly so. This was a reflection of who the man was.
Xiahou Zuo gazed at the army outside the city walls, his expression growing increasingly grave.
“It seems Chizhu Liuli has come in person.”
Li Chi looked at Xiahou Zuo and asked: “Chizhu Liuli? The Southern Court Grand General of Hewu?”
Xiahou Zuo gave a nod. “The last time Hewu’s Khan-Emperor Kuokedi Dashi led a personal campaign, he didn’t bring him along. Kuokedi Dashi was wary of him — he stripped him of his military authority and left him idle at home.”
“Later, after Kuokedi Yijilü succeeded to the throne, he brought Chizhu Liuli back out and entrusted him with heavy responsibilities once more.”
Xiahou Zuo continued: “This man has reportedly never suffered a single defeat in battle. The several hundred thousand troops of Hewu’s Southern Court hold him in absolute reverence — which is precisely why Kuokedi Dashi came to distrust him.”
Li Chi said: “So essentially, we’re playing cards against someone who has a million taels of silver in hand, and we’re sitting here with thirty thousand… and on top of that, the opponent hasn’t lost his head. He’s fighting methodically, step by step.”
Xiahou Zuo said: “You can’t calculate it that way. We have thirty-odd thousand troops. If the enemy had three hundred thousand, we’d still be thirty thousand. But against a million? We’d count for maybe ten thousand.”
He’d nearly said a few thousand, but thought better of it — no sense damaging morale.
Thirty men against three, and a hundred men against three, were not the same thing.
At that moment, a cavalry unit bearing the Hewu battle standard rode in from the north. The fifty-thousand-man force parted ranks, opening a corridor for the approaching riders.
The cavalry unit was not large — perhaps two or three hundred men — yet even from a distance, something about them was unmistakably different from the rest of the Hewu army.
When that force of two or three hundred spurred their horses forward, they carried themselves with more presence than all fifty thousand men combined.
“May we request a meeting with the Chu general to speak?”
One of the riders galloped to the base of the city wall and called upward in a loud voice.
Xiahou Zuo shouted back: “There’s nothing to discuss. Go back. When you’re ready to attack, come and do it.”
The rider seemed to hesitate, then glanced back over his shoulder toward the formation.
Hewu’s Southern Court Grand General Chizhu Liuli sat upon his horse, positioned at a distance that had clearly been calculated precisely — even the heavy mounted crossbows could not reach him.
The range of a heavy crossbow exceeded two li, and it was evident that this man understood the Chu army’s weaponry thoroughly.
Yet what he did next was nothing short of stunning.
He reached out and took up a massive war bow — if stood upright on the ground, it would have surpassed the height of an ordinary Hewu soldier. The Hewu people were naturally tall, standing half a head above the average Central Plains man, which gave some measure of just how enormous this bow truly was.
He fitted an iron-feathered arrow to the string, exerted force with both hands, and actually drew that great bow to its full arc. As both arms extended wide, the bow bent into a perfect half-circle.
With a sharp whistle, the iron-feathered arrow launched from a position beyond any crossbow’s reach and flew in a perfectly straight line to the city wall, slamming into the pillar of the watchtower with a resounding thud.
The iron-feathered arrow was more than a full size larger than an ordinary arrow in diameter, and the iron fletching at its tail produced a sound like the cry of a hawk as it traveled through the air.
That a single arrow could fly such a distance and still bury itself deep into a wooden pillar — how could this not shake a person to their core?
Li Chi turned to glance at the arrow and noticed a strip of paper bound to it. He reached over and pulled it free.
Opening it, he found that the man had written his letter in the writing system of the Central Plains.
This alone revealed that his understanding of the Central Plains extended well beyond the battlefield.
*I have heard that Chu’s court governance has collapsed, and that banditry and unrest plague the land far and wide, leaving the common people as though cast into the underworld, as though swallowed by a sea of fire. I therefore submitted a memorial to His Majesty the Khan-Emperor, requesting imperial sanction to deliver the people of the Central Plains from their suffering. By His Majesty’s benevolence, my petition was granted. I have long held the border soldiers of Chu in high regard and feared causing alarm, and so I send this letter in advance. I do not presume to urge surrender upon any of you — this letter serves only as notice: three days hence, I shall lead my forces in an assault upon the city. Within my plan, it shall be taken in ten days. I hope this will not be held against me. — Chizhu Liuli.*
Li Chi read the letter through and passed it to Xiahou Zuo. Xiahou Zuo read it, then tore it apart.
“I’ve taken a liking to his bow,” Li Chi remarked flatly.
Xiahou Zuo said: “So have I.”
Li Chi said: “We don’t have bows that size in our army, so…”
He turned and called out: “Bring paper and brush.”
Someone quickly produced ink and paper. Li Chi picked up the brush and wrote a few characters on the sheet, then folded it neatly.
He looked around, spotted a mounted crossbow nearby, and pulled a heavy crossbow bolt from it. He bound the note to the bolt.
He planted his left leg back, leaned his body rearward, gripped the heavy bolt in his right hand, and with one explosive burst of force, hurled it outward.
That throw carried it beyond even the range of a mounted crossbow. The enemy commander had fired an arrow at him — Li Chi returned it with a thrown bolt. Call it a reply in kind.
The heavy bolt screamed through the air, moving faster than anything a mounted crossbow could launch, flying straight and true toward where Chizhu Liuli stood.
Chizhu Liuli had his spyglass raised and was watching the city walls — looking to observe the reaction of those Central Plains generals when they read his letter — and then he saw someone hurl a heavy crossbow bolt with his bare arm.
An instant later, Chizhu Liuli wrenched his warhorse sharply back. The animal reared up on its hind legs.
A thunderous crack.
The heavy bolt drove into the earth not far in front of him. Had the horse not reared, it likely would have been skewered clean through.
The bolt stood embedded in the ground, its tail end vibrating with a low, resonant hum.
Chizhu Liuli’s expression shifted. His pupils contracted involuntarily.
A moment later, a personal guard retrieved the note bound to the crossbow bolt and presented it to Chizhu Liuli with both hands.
He took it and opened it — and his pupils contracted even further.
There were only two characters on the paper. A scoff, and a spit.
Up on the city wall, Xiahou Zuo said with a laugh: “The man wrote you all of that, and you gave him back two characters. Doesn’t that make us look a bit petty?”
Li Chi said matter-of-factly: “My words are worth a great deal. Writing back two characters is already giving them considerable face.”
Xiahou Zuo: “Your words are worth a great deal…”
Li Chi grinned: “Of course they are. And I decide exactly how much. As for what they’re worth — well, that depends on whose words I’m writing, doesn’t it.”
Xiahou Zuo laughed. “Still, that throw of yours must have rattled him a bit. He tried to make a show of force against us — sent the most polished, reasoned letter imaginable, all civility and logic, and then backed it with that display of impossible strength…”
Li Chi said: “Physical strength is something anyone can develop with enough training. For a man, the arm and the hand — neither is hard to improve.”
Xiahou Zuo turned the sentence over carefully in his mind and couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somewhat shameless.
Li Chi turned and gave an order: “Sound the drums three times.”
On the walls above, a bare-chested powerhouse of a soldier put his hands to the war drum and struck it with full force — three massive booms that shook the very sky.
Outside, Chizhu Liuli heard those three drum beats and it felt as though the Central Plains soldiers on the city wall had roared three words directly at him.
*Come and fight! Come and fight! Come and fight!*
Chizhu Liuli reined his horse around: “Return. Prepare for battle.”
The two or three hundred riders turned in precise unison and followed Chizhu Liuli back to camp. Shortly after, the fifty-thousand-man advance force also began to withdraw slowly, coming to a halt at roughly five li from the city gate.
—
Inside the Hewu main camp.
Chizhu Liuli dismounted. The command tent hadn’t been fully erected yet — a personal guard hurried over with a chair for him to sit.
“The Central Plains…”
Chizhu Liuli let out a long breath. “There are always men with iron in their spines, standing in front of the spineless to shield them.”
He looked to his subordinates and asked: “Among the Chu border troops, does anyone know who possesses such strength?”
The men looked at one another and shook their heads.
His battle commander Jingluo Fu stepped forward with a bow: “I have served on the frontier all my years. Among the Chu border garrison commanders here at Beishan Pass, none possess such strength. Even Xiahou Zuo, who commands the northern frontier, should not have such ability.”
“If it isn’t Xiahou Zuo…”
Chizhu Liuli was silent for a moment, then a faint light entered his eyes. “Could it be that Prince Ning Li Chi has come in person? Though I have been long absent from the frontier, I have heard something of this man — there are stories that he has the strength to stand against ten thousand.”
Chizhu Liuli rose from his seat. The realization that it might be Li Chi himself gave him not the slightest trace of worry.
“When I first presented my recommendation to His Majesty, the Khan-Emperor asked me how long it would take to conquer the Central Plains. I told him: one year to take Jizhou, three years to take the Central Plains in full. I said this because the Central Plains has many great cities, formidable to defend and costly to assault — even after breaking through the frontier passes, taking each of those cities one by one would consume considerable time.”
He smiled faintly: “My estimate of one year accounted for ten days to breach the frontier pass, one month to besiege Jizhou City, followed by several months to take the city itself, and then the pacification of the entire Jizhou region. Now, it seems, it won’t take nearly that long.”
“If Prince Ning Li Chi has come himself, then once we break the frontier pass, his entire force can be destroyed in one blow. After that, taking Jizhou will be as easy as turning one’s hand over.”
He looked around at his assembled generals: “In three days we attack. Who among you wishes to lead the first assault?”
The generals bowed forward almost in unison: “I volunteer!”
Chizhu Liuli let his gaze drift deliberately toward the two young generals the Khan-Emperor had assigned to him — one named Qibotian, one named Anshi Nayi. Both were among the most outstanding of Hewu’s younger generation of commanders.
Qibotian was a guard garrison general who had taken first place in something comparable to the Central Plains martial examinations — Hewu’s equivalent of a martial champion laureate.
Anshi Nayi was acclaimed as the foremost warrior of the Northern Court’s young generation, having hunted tigers and leopards barehanded, unrivaled among the young commanders of the Northern Court.
Both were clearly eager for battle, but Chizhu Liuli deliberately passed over them — a calculated act of provocation.
He smiled and said: “Let’s select someone from the commanders already familiar with Chu’s border troops. The others don’t know the enemy well enough — if one of them were to lose, it would damage the military prestige of the Hewu Empire.”
Anshi Nayi’s expression shifted. He stepped forward: “Grand General, I am willing to submit a formal pledge — if I fail to breach Beishan Pass in the first engagement, I will willingly accept military discipline.”
“Ah—” Chizhu Liuli waved a hand: “Watch from the side first.”
He turned to Jingluo Fu: “I’ll give you fifty thousand men. In three days, go and lead the first engagement. Don’t let the border troops’ morale grow.”
Jingluo Fu bowed low: “Thank you, Grand General!”
Anshi Nayi and Qibotian exchanged a glance. Both were displeased, but swallowed it and held their tongues.
—