The twenty thousand elite troops of Xiangzhou arrived at Shang Province at the break of dawn and made camp outside Shangluo County, the provincial seat.
As the location of the Zhenchuan Prefectural Headquarters, Shang Province commanded the largest military force in all of Zhenchuan. A rough estimate put the garrison defending the provincial seat of Shangluo County alone at no fewer than fifty thousand men.
For now, the rebellion was contained to Shangluo. If it were allowed to spread, the whole of Shang Province — and perhaps all of Zhenchuan — might rise up in arms.
The Zhenchuan Army had lost its commander, but its strength still ranked among the top few of the sixteen prefectures. If it fell out of control, it could become a second false Liao.
When that happened, Li Wu’s twenty thousand Xiangzhou troops would not be enough to put it down.
If the rebellion was to be resolved, it had to be now.
Li Wu spent half a day in military council. A meticulous plan of encirclement was taking shape through the combined counsel of Li Wu and his generals, when a soldier came rushing in with a look of alarm.
Li Que went out to hear the report, and returned with an ashen face. He bent close and murmured a few words in Li Wu’s ear.
The council continued, but the commanding officer walked out with a dark expression on his face.
Li Wu followed the soldier into a tent, his face grim. The smell of blood was dense in the cramped space. A military physician was bandaging several of the Xiangzhou light cavalry soldiers on stretchers. They moved to rise and bow when they saw Li Wu; he waved a hand and said, “Stay down. What is the situation in Xiangzhou?”
“When we left the city, the false Emperor had not yet broken through,” one of the cavalry soldiers said. “The rumors the enemy had planted inside the city — that you had abandoned it and fled — were all put to rest by the Lady of Xiangzhou.”
“…How did she put them to rest?”
“The Lady of Xiangzhou took up residence on the most dangerous section of the west gate tower, refusing to yield a single step, just like the defending soldiers. Encouraged by her example, many of the people took up weapons and joined the defense. When we broke out, the number of able-bodied men who had been inspired by the Lady of Xiangzhou to join the defense had already reached nearly ten thousand.”
Li Wu’s chest tightened. The image of Shen Zhuxi moving through the city tower amid a constant rain of stray arrows rose immediately in his mind.
The thought of her fighting alone in such danger made him want to sprout wings and fly back to Xiangzhou on the spot.
“My lord, Xiangzhou is in peril — please lead your troops back to reinforce us at once!” the cavalry soldier implored.
Li Wu moved his lips, but no sound came out.
Not receiving the expected answer, the cavalry soldier’s face fell into uncertainty and confusion.
“My lord?”
“Rest easy and recover.”
Li Wu turned and walked out of the tent. Li Que and Li Kun followed close behind.
“Keep this sealed. Keep watch on him. I don’t want to hear a word about Xiangzhou circulating through this camp.” Li Wu said.
Li Que lowered his eyes, concealing the surprise in them, and said quietly, “Rest assured, Big Brother.”
Li Kun never weighed in on any decisions, and even in conversation he seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Now, uncharacteristically, he spoke up of his own accord. “If we go back to Xiangzhou, we…”
“How many men did the false Liao bring to attack the city?” Li Wu walked with long, quick strides.
“One hundred thousand. Excluding rear support and conscripted civilians, the fighting strength is probably around seventy thousand,” Li Que said.
“Go back now — go back and save Little Piglet and Little Rui, I need to —” Li Kun said with urgency.
“I know. I will save them,” Li Wu said.
“Save them now! Go back and save them!”
“I said I will save them!” Li Wu stopped in his tracks. His roar of reproach made Li Kun fall silent with a wounded look on his face. Li Wu stared at him steadily, and said with deliberate precision: “But not now.”
“I trust Shen Zhuxi. She is not an ornamental cushion — she is a great tree capable of shielding those beneath her from wind and rain in a moment of crisis.” Li Wu said.
He clenched his fists and forced his reason to lock away the clamoring voice of his emotions somewhere deep inside. He knew what he needed to do right now, and he knew that if Shen Zhuxi were here, she would support him in doing it.
Because this was not what he himself wanted to do — it was what she would have wanted. The one who had truly taken upon herself the protection of the people of this world was not Li Wu. It was the woman he respected and admired.
To him, the loss of the position of Xiangzhou Prefect meant nothing at all. The Zhenchuan Army could rebel all it liked — he could always find another patch of land to make a living. The greatest ambition of his life was nothing more than to hold a territory of his own and be a local strongman in his corner of the world.
It was Shen Zhuxi’s presence that had carried him, step by step, to where he stood today.
If at this moment he listened to his own heart and abandoned the greater cause for the sake of private feeling, Shen Zhuxi would not thank him for it.
Nor would she reproach him.
She would only take all of it onto herself. She would only blame herself, despise herself, weep in secret at night, and put on a bright face for him during the day.
“Who said it has to be one or the other? Shang Province and Shen Zhuxi — I will have both.”
Li Wu turned and strode into the command tent.
“If you follow the attack plan you’ve drawn up, how many days would it take?”
The generals rose one by one to salute, and the most senior among them spoke:
“My lord, according to the plan we have just finalized — if we lay siege without assault, Shangluo will have no choice but to surrender in two months. If we mount a direct assault, once the siege crossbows are ready, we can launch the attack in five days, and expect to take Shangluo within fifteen days.”
Siege meant fewer casualties but more time. Direct assault meant heavy losses but less time.
Yet even the fastest option — a direct assault — was far too long for Li Wu.
He could not wait that long, and neither could Shen Zhuxi.
“In that case, pass the order — have the workers begin building the siege crossbows overnight. The rest of the siege preparations are also to be completed as quickly as possible.”
A chorus of affirmatives rang through the tent.
“My lord, if I may ask — the news just now…” one of the officers ventured.
Countless eyes turned toward Li Wu.
“My father back home has died,” Li Wu said.
A few sharp intakes of breath sounded through the tent, and the officer who had asked scrambled to his feet in remorse. “I spoke out of turn — please forgive me, my lord.”
“Enough. I’m in a foul mood — don’t bother me for the next few days.” Li Wu waved a dismissive hand, his expression impatient. “Everyone get out.”
The assembled generals held their tongues and filed out of the tent in silence.
Li Wu dropped onto the seat before the sand table and stared at the small flags scattered across it, his brow deeply furrowed.
You couldn’t catch the wolf without risking the child. Both a siege and a direct assault were too slow. To take Shangluo in a short time, the only way was to do what no ordinary person would dare — to act beyond what any ordinary person could.
He would have both the fish and the bear’s paw.
Li Wu stared at the sand table, and said slowly, “Make the arrangements. Send a message into Shangluo — say that Xiangzhou Prefect Li Zhuzong has come to surrender.”
The moment Li Wu finished speaking, Li Que’s face went pale with shock.
“…Big Brother is planning to feign defection?” Li Que’s expression shifted through several changes. He hesitated. “Big Brother…”
“The man commanding the rebel forces inside Shangluo right now is former Senior Cavalry Commandant Huo Siguang. He and I go back a few years from our time on the Baili Plain — I know his weaknesses. The man is arrogant and full of blind spots. You only need to follow what I tell you; the rest I have my own plan for.”
“How can Big Brother guarantee that Huo Siguang will believe you’ve truly surrendered?”
“If I walked up to his door carrying this — do you think he’d believe me or not?”
Li Que was struck silent, his eyes falling on the tiger-tally in Li Wu’s hand — the tally that gave command over the entire Zhenchuan Army.
With this tiger-tally, Huo Siguang could command the full Zhenchuan forces in name and legitimacy. For a man like Huo Siguang, who had no rightful authority behind him, this was something he would give anything to possess — and the reason he had pursued Xu You so relentlessly was almost certainly to obtain exactly this.
“Right now the advantage is mine — I’m only short on time. Huo Siguang doesn’t know this. He thinks he’s facing a hard fight. The last thing he’d expect is for me to show up at his door bearing the tiger-tally and surrendering — instead of laying siege or mounting an assault, what kind of lunatic would resort to a feigned defection? Would he think I’d lost my mind?”
“But…” Li Que still looked uncertain. “Big Brother, this is too dangerous. Why don’t you let me go instead?”
“No.” Li Wu refused outright. “If I go, Huo Siguang lets his guard down. If you go, he’ll be suspicious from the start.”
Li Que was quiet for a long moment, and at last steeled himself:
“I trust Big Brother.”
“Prepare the letter of surrender and a fast horse. I leave tonight.”
…
By the third day of the defense, Xiangzhou was at the end of its rope.
Shen Zhuxi and the city’s officials and soldiers had tried every stratagem they could think of, and it had bought them only to the third day.
Against such overwhelming force, the west gate was already on the verge of collapse. Had it not been for the twelve thousand or so able-bodied men and women Shen Zhuxi had rallied to join the defense, they might not have survived even the second night.
But now they had reached their limit.
One more wave of full assault, and Xiangyang would become a sea of blood.
Shen Zhuxi was forced to think through the worst. Would she flee the city and abandon it, or stand with the people of Xiangyang until the end?
Dark clouds had swallowed the moon without a trace. The night was moonless and grim. Wounded soldiers moaned in low voices on the city tower, and Shen Zhuxi’s shadow lay frozen at her feet.
Seeing that she had not spoken for a long while, Fang Tingzhi pressed again:
“Madam… if you do not leave now, there will be no leaving at all! Madam’s righteousness is something the people of Xiangyang will carry in their hearts forever. But only by preserving your life is there any hope of rising again!”
Shen Zhuxi stared vacantly at the many figures moving below the tower.
Dr. Tang had volunteered to join the medical team. Sui Rui, disregarding the harm to her reputation, had been helping Fan Sanniang and the other women who had lost their husbands tend to the wounded. Jiu Niang was coordinating supplies in the rear logistics tent, back and forth without stop. Li Qingman had repeatedly gone to persuade wealthy young men in the city to donate money and goods, and had even sent her only younger brother to the west gate to help with miscellaneous tasks. And then there was Hu Yishou, who had led his nephew and the fighters from various gambling dens to patrol the city of their own accord, maintaining order.
And countless others, who because they believed in her — believed in Li Wu — had placed their lives in her hands.
How could she — abandon all these people who trusted her with their whole hearts, and live on as a coward?
What would it matter if she escaped?
A coward’s survival was only to live inside a different kind of hell.
“I…”
Shen Zhuxi opened her mouth.
“I am not leaving Xiangyang.”
“Madam!” Fang Tingzhi’s face was urgent.
“I trust Li Wu. I trust the common people of Xiangzhou. I trust the soldiers defending this city… I trust my people.”
The night wind swept across Shen Zhuxi’s face, which had hardened again into something steadfast. The face that had once been soft and delicate was gradually revealing a quality that drew the eyes of all who saw it.
It was strength. It was also kindness.
When the storm came, she had stepped forward without hesitation, standing as a shelter from wind and rain for the hundreds of thousands of people of Xiangyang — not moving back a single step.
Because of strength. Because of kindness.
Fang Tingzhi stared at her, and for the first time in his life, standing before a woman, he felt himself come up short.
“We will not lose — it is not yet time to admit defeat.”
Shen Zhuxi gazed out over the familiar landscape of Xiangyang, her eyes moving from building to building lit with the warm glow of candlelight. Her voice was soft and pleasant as a mountain stream, yet the unyielding courage in it was impossible to ignore.
Fang Tingzhi had once believed that women were rosebuds in a greenhouse, alive only through the careful tending of a gardener.
He had been wrong.
The woman before him had a face of uncommon, guileless beauty, and beneath that disarming innocence was a spirit of extraordinary strength.
It had always been stronger than most.
Because kindness, at its core, is the tenderness of the strong toward the weak.
“I choose to trust everyone.”
Shen Zhuxi spoke each word with quiet deliberateness:
“I believe that Xiangyang will not fall.”