Zhao Zhen had always been confident that when equal forces were committed without fear of casualties, the Chuzhou Army’s elite troops had overwhelming superiority over the Chishan Army.

The Chuzhou Army had over half veteran soldiers, with new slaves and bondservants all selected as strong and fit. Their weapons and armor were more refined, their provisions and supplies more abundant.

The opposing Chishan Army’s First Division, though called elite, still had nearly half its soldiers wielding broken long bamboo poles called wolf-fang rakes. Less than a quarter of the soldiers wore armor—all captured leather armor at that. Before this battle began, the soldiers received only half normal rations each day.

Therefore, in the Battle of Shangjia Fort, Zhao Zhen felt deeply aggrieved about their defeat on the flank. He held his breath, keeping in mind that someday he would recover what was lost. Now the opportunity had arrived, and moreover they held numerical superiority.

Even though his troops had expended some stamina marching from Liyang to Nantang Stockade, Zhao Zhen still believed with absolute conviction that victory was in his grasp.

However, from the initial moment of the Shen hour when fighting erupted until dusk fell, both sides engaged in fierce combat for over two hours in a shallow valley over three to four li wide on the south bank of the shallow stream, west of Nantang Stockade. For the first time, Zhao Zhen’s confidence wavered.

The Chishan Army’s soldiers were weak. When hundred-man squads from both sides committed to the battlefield collided, over seventy percent of the time it was the Chishan Army’s hundred-man squads that were scattered and routed.

On any other battlefield, the Chuzhou Army should have secured victory before nightfall. But the Chishan Army fought with such tenacity.

Each time a Chishan Army hundred-man squad was scattered and routed, the hundred-man squads at their rear or flanks were rarely disrupted, making it difficult for the Chuzhou Army to exploit opportunities to expand their gains. They even had to guard against the Chishan Army on their rear flanks charging forward like madmen.

The Chishan Army’s scattered and routed soldiers could even reorganize and reassemble in extremely short time right on the battlefield, resealing breaches and making it difficult for the Chuzhou Army to advance a single step.

This not only meant the Chishan Army’s tolerance for casualties exceeded the Chuzhou Army’s, but also that the organizational capacity and combat tenacity of their basic-level officers from squad leader to company commander surpassed the Chuzhou Army’s.

This also meant that within just two hours of fierce combat, despite the Chishan Army suffering over thirty percent casualties along the Nantang Stockade line, there were still no signs their combat effectiveness would collapse or disintegrate. By contrast, Zhao Zhen could see fear in his own soldiers’ eyes—before nightfall, they seemed to step back onto the battlefield only because he forced them.

The Chuzhou Army’s command system was strong at the company commander and battalion commander levels, strong at formed battle array warfare. Although after nightfall the weather was only lightly overcast with faint starlight flickering through thin clouds, allowing one to dimly see the outlines of distant mountains, after nightfall the Chuzhou Army still had to withdraw from the bloody battlefield and pull back behind a shallow stream flowing temporarily from the western foot of Jieling Mountain to rest and reorganize.

At this point, Zhao Zhen even felt grateful that the Chishan Army’s soldiers were too weak, grateful that this Chishan Army force had not received adequate food supplies over the past two months, so that such prolonged fierce combat caused severe physical exhaustion, their sustained combat capability seriously weakened as a result.

Otherwise, if this opposing Chishan Army force didn’t disengage after nightfall but continued entangling them, even penetrating deep into their formation, Zhao Zhen would worry that the Chuzhou Army—whose basic-level officers below company rank had slightly less combat tenacity—would more easily trigger irreversible chaos.

Wang Wenqian felt that when he hurriedly rushed to Liyang before noon to join Zhao Zhen, the overturned carriage had indeed injured his ribs. At this moment, climbing the low ridge beside the shallow stream with Zhao Zhen and Yin Peng, he still felt dull pain in his chest and ribs. But now was not the time to worry about such things. Gazing south, they could see a troop column entering the Chishan Army camp to the south, illuminated by over a hundred torches.

Although the Chuzhou Army’s thousand-plus troops from Jintan had rushed over at nightfall, the Chishan Army was also continuously reinforcing the south bank. Could they break through the Chishan Army’s interception before Han Qian captured Langxi City?

Wang Wenqian’s confidence couldn’t help but waver as he silently asked himself this question.

He also clearly understood that once Han Qian captured Langxi City ahead of schedule, they would have to withdraw their forces. Otherwise, the Chishan Army could withdraw into Nantang Stockade and Langxi City to rest and catch their breath, while the exhausted Chuzhou Army with heavy casualties remained exposed outside—how dangerous that would be was self-evident.

To forge hastily assembled troops with supply conditions barely better than refugee armies into such a force in just two to three months—what level of military command was this?

Wang Wenqian deeply regretted not insisting on his views earlier, not persisting in the strategy against the Chishan Army. Even now, if they could mobilize around twenty thousand elite troops on the southern front for the battlefield, they wouldn’t have such worries.

“Tomorrow we still need to push harder. The Chishan Army’s First Division elite dares to fight so desperately—even if the Third Division has extremely poor military equipment, we cannot underestimate them. From the looks of things, the Langxi City garrison may not hold out for many days!” Zhao Zhen’s gaunt old face furrowed like mountains. He also regretted not supporting Wang Wenqian’s strategy to blockade the Chishan Army’s eastern front earlier. Who would have thought that giving the Chishan Army two months to catch their breath would evolve into such a huge problem? Ultimately, they still hadn’t taken Han Qian seriously enough.

……

……

When Xiao Dahu and Guo Nu’er led over a thousand reinforcements to Honglin Pier, the sky had already darkened, but they arrived just as a Xuanzhou force of seven to eight hundred was crossing Magu Mountain via a small path, circling to the west side of Honglin Pier, intending to launch a night attack from the side and rear against Zhao Wuji’s troops holding the pass south of Honglin Pier.

After leading over three hundred cavalry and about a thousand infantry to severely wound the militia and repel the first wave of attacking Xuanzhou cavalry, Zhao Wuji had held the narrow pass of less than three hundred paces for half a day, repelling seven Xuanzhou attacks with casualties approaching five hundred men. Currently fewer than nine hundred could still wield weapons in combat, their physical strength severely depleted.

Zhao Wuji’s right arm was bloody. He didn’t know how many times he’d drawn his bow this day—now he lacked even the strength to pick up a single arrow.

Even though he’d long detected a Xuanzhou unit infiltrating through the flank mountain path, he had no strength to divide forces to intercept them. He could only lead his remaining troops to passively defend the narrow pass, blocking more Xuanzhou troops to the south, preventing them from advancing north and disrupting the Third Division’s rhythm of attacking Langxi City.

“Kings and marquises are not born to their stations, generals and ministers are not destined by fate. Five years ago, both Guo Nu’er and Commander Xiao were still lowly lives and base breeds trampled underfoot by aristocratic families—our circumstances were worse than all of yours. To have gained today’s fortune requires nothing but willingness to risk our lives.” Guo Nu’er reined in his horse and raised his arm before the soldiers whose physical strength had been greatly depleted after rushing half a day to reach Honglin Pier, rousing their morale.

The Xuanzhou troops coming over Magu Mountain showed signs of contracting toward the flank, but if they couldn’t rout this Xuanzhou force under cover of night, leaving them until tomorrow when more Xuanzhou troops could cross Magu Mountain to attack their side and rear would create even bigger trouble.

Guo Nu’er and Xiao Dahu consulted—Zhao Wuji’s troops were already exhausted with heavy casualties. They would lead the reinforcements to fight by torchlight at night.

After simple mobilization, the thousand-plus reinforcements boldly surged toward the western flank. After slight hesitation, the Xuanzhou troops came charging from west of Honglin Pier, like two torrents violently colliding in the dark night. Both sides completely disregarded how night combat might trigger uncontrollable chaos.

The Xuanzhou troops who dared engage in night combat after crossing Magu Mountain via small paths for half a day, then resting and eating simply before committing to battle, were naturally Gu Zhilong’s carefully maintained elite household troops.

Even though they collided with the reinforcing troops under Xiao Dahu and were at a numerical disadvantage, Gu Zhilong’s elite household troops absolutely believed victory belonged to them.

Night combat offered no possibility of formed array combat. The main commander’s method of transmitting military orders via drums and banners completely failed. Moreover, when the two armies collided, under the faint starlight even commanders standing at a distance definitely couldn’t distinguish friend from foe.

Above the leaden night sky, starlight was sparse. Soldiers on both sides could only distinguish friend from foe at close range by passwords and armor. Xiao Dahu and Guo Nu’er both descended directly into the scout squads, each leading their guards mixed with one scout squad’s soldiers to charge at the front. Combat for the other scout squads could only rely on the command and control of basic-level officers like company commanders and squad leaders over their troops.

Sensing the enemy army’s offensive thoroughly loosening, Xiao Dahu’s thigh was pierced through by a long spear. Protected by three guards, he leaned against a stone wall to rest. At this time he could dimly see large numbers of enemy troops fleeing in rout toward Magu Mountain in the southwest direction, so he changed the password for contracting and withdrawing, having the attendants beside him pass it along one by one.

Tomorrow there would still be fierce battles to fight. Under such terrible conditions, he couldn’t disperse forces to pursue the routed enemy deep into the complex terrain of Magu Mountain.

Xiao Dahu waited quite a while without seeing Guo Nu’er return. In the pitch darkness, after confirming the routed enemy had completely retreated and didn’t dare organize another offensive from the flank, he first led the assembled troops to the pass to join up with Zhao Wuji.

Xiao Dahu hadn’t expected that Guo Nu’er had reached the pass ahead of him, except that Guo Nu’er had taken an arrow to the face. The iron arrowhead had penetrated through the back of his skull. He was cradled in the arms of the weeping Lin Zongjing, already dead…

……

……

When a small patch of fish-belly white appeared at the horizon’s edge, the darkness shrouding heaven and earth seemed to instantly recede, re-covered by a layer of pale blue-green shadow. Scenery near and far suddenly brightened. The torches and bonfires burning fiercely atop the city walls seemed to grow dim in this instant.

Langxi County Magistrate Zhou Yuanhe, sleeping in his clothes leaning against the battlements, heard rustling sounds and suddenly awoke. He knelt up and looked out through the embrasure—the black mass of the Chishan Army had already mobilized, surging toward the base of the city walls like a black tide.

Zhou Yuanhe stood up, heart pounding and hands trembling.

If not for knowing that the Prefect’s relief force had already reached the south side of Honglin Pier over thirty li away, if not for knowing the Prefect had already requested over ten thousand elite Chuzhou troops to come to their aid who could at any time rout the garrison intercepting them at Nantang Stockade forty li away, if not for the fact that the families of over two hundred officers large and small among the city garrison were all in Xuancheng—Zhou Yuanhe doubted they could have lasted even half a day yesterday.

The Chishan Army soldiers with crude weapons and armor were too damned unafraid of death. Braving falling rocks, burning oil, and arrows, they charged up risking their lives. Corpses fell beneath the city walls like dumplings being dropped in water, yet this didn’t cause them the slightest hesitation when climbing the walls next to the city.

These damned base slaves—had every single one of them eaten the heart of a bear and the gall of a leopard?

Fortunately, the garrison atop the walls had grown somewhat through yesterday’s fierce combat. Now picking up blades, bows, and spears to stand behind the battlements, they didn’t seem as panicked as yesterday.

As long as they were human, they would grow. And once enough people experienced bloody and cruel warfare, quite a few would become numb when picking up blades and spears again—after all, they’d also trained for two or three months beforehand. Defending from the city, fighting from high ground looking down, the requirements for formations and coordination between soldiers weren’t so strict.

Moreover, the city walls were piled high with rolling stones and logs, bundles upon bundles of arrows, over twenty ballistae, over thirty newly constructed stone-throwing catapults behind the walls, plus barrel after barrel of heated tung oil to pour down. Yesterday, using these they had repelled wave after wave of Chishan Army assaults, causing the Chishan Army to leave behind over a thousand corpses beneath the city walls in just half a day. This could more or less boost the garrison’s morale and confidence.

However, Zhou Yuanhe also noticed that in the Chishan Army’s staging area directly approaching the East Gate, over a dozen stone-throwing catapults erected to heights of four to five zhang had appeared.

“Whoosh”—a stone projectile came hurtling through the air with a sharp whistling sound, grazing the gate tower and smashing toward the streets and alleys inside.

Such a long range!

Zhou Yuanhe turned his head to look at the wooden building behind him whose roof had been smashed through. Roughly estimating, that stone projectile the size of an adult human head had been hurled a full six hundred paces.

By comparison, the stone-throwing machines built inside the city could only launch round stone projectiles of comparable weight four hundred paces.

Was this the whirlwind cannon Han Qian had uniquely created in his army?

After the Jingxiang campaigns, the manufacture of whirlwind cannons was no longer secret within the Chu forces, but that was relative to the Imperial Guards and Personal Guard Armies directly under the Northern and Southern Courts. The Xuanzhou troops, being provincial forces, still didn’t know the secrets of manufacturing whirlwind cannons—even though Gu Zhilong had personally stationed himself in Langxi City these days, actively strengthening Langxi’s defensive capabilities and organizing craftsmen to build a batch of stone-throwers and ballistae, he hadn’t built whirlwind cannons.

Han Qian hadn’t committed the whirlwind cannons to combat yesterday mainly because in the early stages, to deceive Gu Zhilong, he had made no preparations for siege warfare along the Tingzi Mountain line. All siege engines and even round stone projectiles had to be transported from Guangde Stockade during battle.

Even though whirlwind cannons had been made convenient to disassemble and assemble, after the heavy rain, there were only so many roads that could allow the army to advance rapidly, and they became muddy morasses after being traversed. Transporting large components and stone projectiles from the rear, as well as sourcing materials locally to fire clay projectiles, all required time.

Additionally, limited by scarce supplies, the number of whirlwind cannons the Chishan Army could assemble before Langxi City was very limited—only twelve. Once the garrison adapted to the whirlwind cannons’ attack rhythm and damage patterns, truly smashing large breaches in the solid walls would take more than three to five days.

Committing the whirlwind cannons to the battlefield now was mainly to psychologically intimidate the garrison and concentrate on suppressing the defenders atop the East Gate. But ultimately they would still have to fill the gap with human lives, relying on bloody close combat to seize Langxi City.

At the whirlwind cannon position outside the East Gate, four hundred vanguard shock troops drawn from various units had already been assembled.

Han Qian stood before the vanguard shock troops in armor, his gaze slowly sweeping across everyone’s faces. Seeing a soldier on the left with a familiar face, he called him out: “Han Bao, your elder brother serves as vanguard in the cavalry battalion. Brothers and fathers and sons in the ranks cannot both serve as vanguard shock troops simultaneously. Come out!”

“My lord, Lei Peng died in battle yesterday. Gu Xiong blocked a blade for me—his entire face was split open by the enemy. I don’t even know if he can survive. If I’m afraid to die and don’t storm the walls today, I… I would fail Lei Peng and Gu Xiong!” Han Bao stubbornly remained in the ranks refusing to come out. “If my brother can survive, my lord, please tell him I didn’t shame him—if both my brother and I unfortunately die in battle, please help arrange a marriage for my younger sister and care for our mother in her old age until her final days!”

“I’ve disciplined this brat, but he absolutely won’t listen!” Kong Xirong said. “I’ll keep him by my side—perhaps he won’t die so easily.”

Han Qian looked at Han Bao for a long while. In the end he didn’t order him to leave the vanguard squad, but instead had Xi Ren help remove the armor he was wearing. He said to Han Bao: “Put on this armor. Storm the city walls, fight the enemy bravely, but also take care to protect yourself.”

“My lord, on the battlefield, how can you not wear armor?” Han Bao choked out.

“With all of you fighting bravely at the front, how could the enemy possibly reach me? If all you brave sons die heroically in battle, with just these two fists could I possibly turn the tide? True history is ultimately created by you!” Han Qian smiled sardonically, stepped forward to personally help Han Bao don the scale armor he’d removed, then watched as Kong Xirong personally led the four hundred vanguard shock troops to advance toward the base of Langxi’s East Gate.

When the whirlwind cannons drove out the defenders inside the gate tower, that would be when Kong Xirong and his men would storm the walls…