As the daylight gradually slanted westward, atop Taiyuan’s city walls, the spreading spearhead of the enemy could be seen withdrawing back into the distance.

Far and near, black beacon-smoke rose into the sky, scattered flames still burning above and below the walls. People pushed corpses down off the ramparts, hung the wolf-tooth clubs and other defensive implements back up along the parapets, and piled sandbags within the crenellations.

In the fields below, dark red blood and corpses wove together into a scene of tragic devastation. Most of the bodies belonged to Wu Dynasty civilians who had been driven forward to assault the city; the dead and the not-yet-dead lay mixed together, pained groans still continuing, though most of those groans had already grown feeble. Countless corpses and half-dead people lay strewn across that field, and farther out still were civilian captives who, though not yet dead, were already close to despair, along with the Jurchen troops carrying bloodlust and ambition.

Qin Shaohe stood atop the wall, gazing at the Jin army’s camp on the far side. During the fierce fighting he, as the commanding officer, had also personally joined the battle atop the walls, cutting down two Jin soldiers with his own hands. His body was now mottled with bloodstains, and one corner of his official robe had been scorched black.

The fierce fighting had continued unbroken for a full day and night. Looking at the countless scenes of tragedy above and below the walls, people’s emotions had long since moved past mere pity. Numbness and trembling resonated through the body along with the whole heaven and earth; a droning hum seemed to fill the surrounding air. In every inch of that world, awareness of death and the fear lurking behind it, bloodthirsty impulses and the lingering terror after being wounded—all of it mixed together.

Along with these things came something else, something greater that towered above them all, expanding before his eyes—perhaps such a feeling could only arise in the heart of a Confucian general like Qin Shaohe—the collision and mortal struggle of over a hundred thousand men, their pain and their hopes. Countless pasts stretched forward to this moment, and so very many of them were about to come to an abrupt end in this raging tide.

“It’s not as hard to hold as all that,” Qin Shaohe murmured hoarsely, gazing toward the direction where Wanyan Zonghan was likely positioned—though the officers behind him did not share his sentiment.

Because the Jurchens’ record of victory had been so overwhelmingly brilliant up to this point, when their spearhead had come blazing toward Taiyuan, none of the defenders had known whether they could hold the city through even the first wave of assault. It was precisely because of this worry and self-awareness that Qin Shaohe, as one of the commanding officers, had rushed to the wall himself to fight from the very start. Though they had finally endured a full day and night and seen the Jurchens pull back, no one’s heart felt any lighter for it. Influenced by this mood, when Qin Shaohe spoke words meant to raise morale, the officers behind him did not immediately voice agreement.

Of course, this also proved that under Qin Shaohe’s command, none of the generals had been slacking in the rear—all of them had, in this first clash, felt firsthand and thoroughly the pressure the Jurchens brought.

After a brief exchange of glances, the moment for voicing agreement had already passed. One of them pointed forward and said in a low voice, “My lord Prefect, the Jin failed in this first assault and could not press the advantage in one go, partly because they rushed here in haste and their siege equipment wasn’t yet fully prepared. Now that they’ve withdrawn their troops, they certainly won’t retreat for good—they’ll spend time preparing their equipment, and when they attack again, it will surely be even fiercer. We mustn’t let our guard down.”

“General Han speaks rightly,” Qin Shaohe nodded. “Things being what they are, we now know just how ferocious the Jurchens truly are. Look at those people below the walls—from today onward, the only path before us is to hold firm. But the good news is, having never clashed with them before, everyone had only been guessing at the Jurchens’ strength in their minds. Now that we’ve clashed head-on, we at least know that though the Jurchens are formidable, they are not three-headed six-armed demons—they too have their limits. Gentlemen, from here on, the lives of several hundred thousand people in Taiyuan rest in our hands… let us do our utmost.”

He cupped his hands in salute, and the other officers likewise returned the gesture, gravely. Qin Shaohe smiled. “Still, it could be worse—I hear it took Wanyan Aguda only three hours to take the Shangjing. We’ve already held out rather well by comparison.” As he said this, he walked aside, picked up a bow and arrows, and went to the wall’s edge. He looked down at the groaning below, took aim for a moment, and loosed an arrow.

Among the corpses below, a Wu Dynasty civilian with all four limbs broken but not yet dead was struck through the chest and finally breathed his last.

Qin Shaohe stood there holding the bow, staring blankly down at the corpses below for a good while, before finally stepping back and waving his hand. “Pass my order—have the elite archer corps and the military police select among the badly wounded civilians below who are certainly beyond saving, and for those suffering too greatly, send them on their way…”

He walked down from the wall. Not far off, a man named Cheng Zhouhai approached him. Though his clothing was neat and impeccable, both the dust on his robes and the look on his face betrayed days of accumulated exhaustion. When he reached Qin Shaohe, Cheng Zhouhai bowed with cupped hands. “My lord Qin, since the fighting has reached a lull, it’s time to let the able-bodied men I’ve organized take turns going up to see the wall.”

Qin Shaohe nodded. “Send them up. It’s about time they saw for themselves what the people outside the city have become. Tell them—if the city falls, this is what will become of them… Though the Jurchens have withdrawn, it’s hard to say whether it’s a feigned retreat, so don’t send up too many at once, and guard against Jurchen spies mixing in among them. Also, if the Jurchens attack again, pull them down immediately…”

He rambled on for a while, then, sensing he was being too long-winded, Qin Shaohe’s expression steadied, and he gave a wry smile, patting Cheng Zhouhai on the shoulder. Having worked so long in the chancellor’s household, when it came to meticulous and rigorous planning, Cheng Zhouhai truly surpassed him. Cheng Zhouhai smiled faintly and simply answered, “Yes.” Then he glanced at his deputy standing nearby, who nodded and went off.

Cheng Zhouhai looked toward the wall. Qin Shaohe, having patted his shoulder, looked forward as well—the houses at Taiyuan’s outer perimeter near the wall were being torn down, soldiers and laborers bustling busily within view, running back and forth. Farther off, the densely packed houses of Taiyuan city stretched on and on. The war had already begun, and the lives of several hundred thousand people still had to continue under this state of tension.

On the fields outside the city, the autumn wind of the eighth month howled across the wilderness thick with the smell of blood and battle-smoke. Corpses, the wounded, and the gathered, restless armies stretched on and on, and an unknown fate awaited them all as well.

This was the beginning of the Battle of Taiyuan…

Not long after, Qin Shaoqian led the Wurui Battalion to meet the enemy at Shouzhang, where they were confronted by the forces of Wanyan Zongwang and Guo Yaoshi. The two armies fought back and forth for a full day near Shouzhang, which had already been reduced to scorched earth by the scorched-earth policy. Qin Shaoqian did not order the Wurui Battalion to confront the enemy head-on. Instead, he split the battalion into five forces of nearly ten thousand men each, using the advantage of terrain to keep Guo Yaoshi occupied around Shouzhang, putting on a posture of feigned attacks, while large numbers of scouts and detachments continually broke out in small-scale skirmishes all around.

In this back-and-forth fighting, Guo Yaoshi chose a relatively cautious advance, wanting to be certain of the situation first. Amid this pattern of feints and small-scale offensives, Qin Shaoqian’s most elite unit turned from feint to real attack, striking directly at the force commanded by Zhang Linghui. The two sides broke into fierce fighting near Xizhi Village, north of Shouzhang, as he tried to swallow up the weaker Zhang Linghui in the first strike. But he only gained a partial advantage.

Meanwhile, Guo Yaoshi had already engaged in battle on another front with a force of ten thousand tasked with pinning him down. That ten-thousand-man unit was routed within half an hour.

The routed troops scattered in every direction, only to be regrouped by the many liaison officers Qin Shaoqian had already stationed around the area beforehand. From then on, the entire Shouzhang battlefield seemed to dissolve into a vast expanse of scattered sand. Enemies seemed to be everywhere, the fighting grew fierce, yet nowhere was the true main force. Qin Shaoqian led that battle-hardened ten-thousand-man unit in hiding nearby, while using all his strength to keep the battlefield in motion, waiting for the chance to deliver the fiercest possible blow to Guo Yaoshi and his men. Guo Yaoshi, meanwhile, began gathering his forces to strike at the Shouzhang county seat, garrisoned by ten thousand men.

This chaotic state of battle lasted a full day, with dozens of small skirmishes breaking out and two large-scale battles occurring, yet it left Guo Yaoshi and the others utterly unable to focus on taking the city. A day later, Wanyan Zongwang’s main force arrived; eighty or ninety thousand men converged at Shouzhang, and after clashing with the Wurui Battalion, rolled forward in overwhelming force, crushing through Shouzhang county seat…

The Wuwei and Wusheng armies, which were originally supposed to form a three-pronged pincer to intercept Zongwang’s forces, held their positions at Jinan and Daming and never appeared at all from start to finish. As for the Wurui Battalion, which had taken the initiative to intercept the Jurchen army, aside from Qin Shaoqian’s superb skill at coordinating his scattered-sand formation, there was little else to commend in this battle…

After this battle, Wanyan Zongwang broke through into the Central Plains!

…

Large numbers of wounded soldiers, routed troops, and civilians from around Shouzhang retreated from the front, chaotic noise filling the sky.

Ning Yi and Wenren Buer stood by the roadside, watching this scene of defeat unfold.

“Even though we already knew General Qin would lose, with things turning out this way, there’s truly no time left now.”

Wenren Buer drew a breath and sighed quietly. After a moment, they approached a wounded officer retreating past them. “Where’s General Qin? Where’s your General Qin?!”

The officer glanced at Wenren Buer and Ning Yi, then shook his head. “Don’t know! I don’t know! We were just ordered to fall back to Dongping! Go ask someone else!”

The officer disappeared into the crowd moving away. Wenren Buer glanced at Ning Yi, whose expression was grave yet calm. Ning Yi tilted his head, looking at the sea of people. “Would you call this an orderly withdrawal?”

“What?”

“Look at these people—civilians pulling out. That means the retreat wasn’t too rushed, wouldn’t you say?”

“…I suppose.” Wenren Buer hesitated, then said, “But the Jurchens have moved through far too quickly. The original plan for the scorched-earth policy definitely can’t keep pace…”

“Even if it can’t keep pace, it still has to be done.” Ning Yi closed his eyes, then opened them again after a moment. “After all, this is a game of chess. You can hardly expect the other side to move according to your own pace…”

Having said this, he walked into the crowd and grabbed hold of a retreating officer, who immediately reached for his blade—Ning Yi caught his wrist. “General, where is General Qin? Where is your General Qin?”

The man, still shaken, looked Ning Yi up and down, then abruptly threw off his hand. “How the hell should I know!”

An ominous air hung over the sky, and everywhere, far and near, this was but one small corner of the chaos. The Jurchens’ rapid advance meant that the entire scorched-earth plan had already fallen behind schedule right from the start.

On the seventh day of the eighth month, in the thirteenth year of the Jinghan era, Emperor Zhou Zhe, exercising sole imperial authority, had the court issue orders for scorched-earth policies across the five circuits of Hedong East, Hedong West, Jingdong East, Jingdong West, and Hebei. Yet the mood both at court and among the general public remained in a rather delicate state.

The Jurchens had come too swiftly; society as a whole had not yet been gripped by wartime panic. Even as Ning Yi and the others, together with the chancellor’s household, were carrying out the scorched-earth policy, memorials of impeachment were flying onto Zhou Zhe’s imperial desk like snowflakes from every corner of the court.

Employing a measure as drastic as scorched earth in the midst of a war was an extremely resolute step. The interests bound up in relocating and destroying the resources of over ten million people amounted to an astronomical sum, not to mention that this was happening right around the autumn harvest. On the whole, those opposed to the scorched-earth policy generally held one of two positions. One stemmed from self-interest—since scorched earth meant relocating the population and burning fields and homes, the ones most affected would be the great landlords and gentry of the north. Lending support to this stance was another, seemingly more rational argument: that scorched earth would accomplish nothing at all, and would only get large numbers of civilians killed at the hands of their own people.

This argument held real weight. On the most straightforward level, the Jurchen forces marching south numbered no more than two hundred thousand in total—how much territory could they really sweep through in their advance, how many people could they really kill? Most places would never be touched by the ravages of war at all, and the people there stood a real chance of surviving in the cracks between battles. And even if scorched earth were truly carried out, once those two hundred thousand men needed grain, they could easily seize whatever they needed wherever they took a place. Across land sustaining the lives of over ten million people, to what degree could you possibly “clear the fields” so thoroughly that all the grain simply vanished?

“Even if the court cannot hold back the Jurchens, it ought to leave the common people a way to live!”

Among the Confucian scholars, the backlash this measure provoked was almost beyond description. But what truly kept the policy running was the attitude of Emperor Zhou Zhe. In a sense, Zhou Zhe was himself synonymous with resolve; only his backing could keep this measure standing firm amid such a storm of condemnation. And among the upper echelons of the Wu Dynasty—whether Cai Jing, Tong Guan, or Li Gang and Qin Sinyuan—all of them had likely already glimpsed, if only vaguely, the gravity of the unfolding crisis. While fierce arguments raged among the middle and lower ranks, the attitude of these men who actually held real power was strikingly consistent: they simply watched the matter unfold in silence—which, for men like Li Gang and Qin Siyuan, was in itself something impossible to explain away.

Under the efforts of low-ranking officials north of the Yellow River, the scorched-earth policy achieved enormous, staggering results in its early stages. But the true focus of Ning Yi and his people’s work had, from the very start, actually been south of the Yellow River. They guided large numbers of refugees southward, played up the atmosphere of war, and publicized the necessity of the scorched-earth policy, rapidly building up an atmosphere of dread. But just as Wenren Buer had said, the Jurchens truly had come far too quickly.

While the capital’s court continued its chaotic storm of condemnation and impeachment, scholars and men of letters in taverns and pleasure houses spoke passionately of the war, of the valor and heroism at the front. On the twentieth day of the eighth month, Wanyan Zongwang’s forces began crossing the Yellow River. Zhou Zhe shouted furiously in the throne hall, “Why hasn’t the area near the capital even begun to be cleared out yet!”

Even before that day, the troops stationed near the capital region had already begun transporting large quantities of nearby grain into the city, and thereafter finally began driving out civilians on a massive scale and requisitioning grain in earnest. Vast, chaotic civil unrest began to erupt. One county magistrate, while trying to order the people to evacuate, was stoned to death on the spot by an enraged mob, after which the army began clashing with civilians outright. Amid this rapidly escalating situation, the debate over scorched earth in the capital came to an abrupt halt; an atmosphere of panic began to blanket every corner of the city, with great numbers of people flooding into the capital even as great numbers of others flooded south out of it.

On the twenty-third day of the eighth month, the Yellow River defense line collapsed, and the Jurchen eastern route army crossed the river along its entire front.

The preparations Ning Yi and his people had made earlier had established some order and convenience for moving grain and relocating the population around Kaifeng, but great numbers of people were nonetheless swept up in the flames of war. For the first time in over two hundred years, war had spread south of the Yellow River—no one had anticipated that the opening phase of this war would unfold so swiftly, as though the very beginning had already become its decisive conclusion.

On the twenty-eighth day of the eighth month, just over a month since the Jurchens had opened hostilities, Wanyan Zongwang, having crossed over a thousand li of territory, began laying siege to the eastern capital and launched his assault.

The Wu Dynasty’s capital defenses had already fully withdrawn within the city walls. As the defense of the eastern capital began, Zhou Zhe’s orders had already gone out—more than three hundred thousand troops mustered to the emperor’s aid from across the realm began converging on the eastern capital, including the Wuwei and Wusheng armies, which had stood idle during the Battle of Shouzhang. An even vaster and more chaotic war was about to unfold outside the walls of the eastern capital.

Even as Ning Yi traveled south with the army, Taiyuan city had already withstood nearly half a month of Wanyan Zonghan’s frenzied assault…