Volume One: Flames on the Border Chapter Twenty-Six: Two Women Compete for a Husband

Everyone had expected Tianxiong Fort to come with overwhelming force, certain that a fierce battle would ensue. Yet, to their surprise, a mere city moat brought the enemy’s advance to a halt, and the tense atmosphere within the fort relaxed considerably.

He Yu stood atop the city wall, listening to the curses shouted from below, already well accustomed to such scenes. “If this continues, Tianxiong Fort won’t be able to hold out for long; they’ll have to withdraw in disgrace,” he remarked.

Deng’er, seeing him in good spirits, sidled up and said, “Husband, since we have nothing pressing at hand, let me play the flute for you.”

Deng’er, once a maid, was skilled with musical instruments. Though He Yu knew little of music, he enjoyed listening to melodies for leisure, so he feigned exaggerated surprise and said, “Deng’er, you can play the flute? Quick, let me hear it.”

Deng’er nodded and began to play, the gentle notes flowing, melodious and soothing.

When the tune was finished, He Yu clapped in admiration, ready to offer his praise, when Chen Qingyun suddenly interjected, “With the enemy at our gates, playing music only shakes the troops’ resolve. Deng’er, you should stop.”

Deng’er pretended not to hear, leaning against He Yu’s side, and began playing once more.

He Yu forced a laugh and said, “Just one last song; Deng’er will be tired after this. Didn’t Prime Minister Zhuge once play his jade zither and scare off Sima Yi’s hundred thousand pursuers? Today, we too shall emulate the ancients and let Deng’er play the role of Kongming.”

The more Chen Qingyun listened, the more irritated she became. Stamping her foot, she turned and descended the stairs.

Deng’er glanced at He Yu, lips pressed into a sly smile. “Husband, am I turning naughty? Lady Chen seems quite upset!”

He Yu was both amused and exasperated. He thought, “I must have misjudged Deng’er before; she can be quite mischievous when she wants to be.”

With a chuckle, he replied, “What are you saying? The old Deng’er was beautiful and gentle; the Deng’er now is gentle and beautiful. Even if you’ve grown a bit more cunning, you’re still the Deng’er I love the most.”

Deng’er giggled, a playful look lighting up her face, warming He Yu’s heart.

Before long, Chen Qingyun returned, followed by Xue Nu’er, who carried an ancient zither in her arms.

“Yu, I’ve only ever heard of Zhuge Liang repelling the enemy with the sound of his zither, never with a flute. The flute is crude, not as refined as the jade zither. Zhuge Kongming was of noble birth—he would never play the flute.”

With a sideways glance, Chen Qingyun cast a challenging look at Deng’er, her face full of disdain. Deng’er’s expression darkened with anger, but she said nothing.

Before He Yu could interject, Chen Qingyun set down the zither table, tuned the strings, rolled up her sleeves, and prepared to play for her beloved.

He Yu quietly chuckled to himself: “They say Li Jun is naive, but Lady Chen’s headstrong ways show she too knows little of social graces. What noblewoman would stoop to play the zither for a man without invitation?”

He sighed inwardly: “Alas, Li Jun and Chen Qingyun are birds of a feather—she’s oblivious to others, and so am I. Like repels like; no wonder things never go smoothly. Still, I wonder why Chen Qingyun suddenly set her sights on me, and with such relentless determination.”

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up to see Chen Qingyun already playing. Her temperament was impatient; though she had studied with a renowned master, she had never truly mastered the instrument. Busy with affairs in the fort, she hadn’t practiced in ages. Today, driven by jealousy, she insisted on performing for He Yu, but her playing was jarring and off-key, barely recognizable as music.

He Yu, ignorant though he was of musical theory, could clearly sense that her skills were mediocre at best.

Ashamed by her own blunders, Chen Qingyun’s face flushed red. In her flustered haste, she plucked too hard and snapped a string with a loud twang.

When He Yu had first met her, he thought her a noble lady. Upon further acquaintance, he found her far too forceful. Now, seeing her thus, he felt a surge of gratitude and pity.

Chen Qingyun had lost her parents young and had relied on her brother to manage a vast family estate. Her life, compared to Deng’er’s, had its own hardships. She had the temper of a young mistress but was also frank and bold, falling in love with He Yu at first sight and loving him deeply. Though he did not love her in return, he did not wish for her to be humiliated.

Seeing her embarrassment, He Yu clapped his hands and recited, “I wish to confide my heart to the jade zither, seeking a kindred soul—but when the string breaks, who will listen? To be honest, I know nothing of music. Your good intentions, Lady Chen, I’m afraid I cannot repay.”

When Chen Qingyun heard him mention “heart’s desire” and “kindred soul,” she knew he was comforting her, and her spirits lifted. Tossing aside the zither with gusto, she declared, “Yu is right—true gentlemen are naturally charming; why should one be bound by such trivialities?” Moments ago, she had been mortified, but now her face bloomed with springtime cheer.

Deng’er pursed her lips, walked to the zither table without a word, restrung the instrument, and began to play. The melody was one He Yu had heard many times before his journey through time. He blurted out, “That’s ‘High Mountains and Flowing Water.’”

The music paused. Deng’er said coolly, “Indeed. But, husband, I thought you didn’t know music. How do you recognize this tune? Were you just deceiving Lady Chen earlier?”

“I knew it! In Jiangzuo, even three-year-olds know the zither scores. How could my husband not?”

“I—no, truly, I don’t—” He Yu stammered, unable to explain himself.

Suddenly realizing, Chen Qingyun concluded that He Yu was merely humoring her, perhaps even pitying her, which made her feel utterly humiliated. She stamped her foot, covered her face with both hands, and ran downstairs, sobbing.

“Heavens above,” He Yu sighed, “they say women in feudal times were shackled by ritual and always the ones to suffer, but when it comes to scheming, they’re hardly lacking.”

He Yu scolded, “Deng’er, I don’t like it when you do this. You know I don’t understand music—why did you have to tease Lady Chen?”

Deng’er bowed her head in silence, tears glistening in her eyes. “Husband, I know I was wrong. I won’t dare do it again. Next time I see Lady Chen, I’ll keep my distance, all right?”

That final “all right?” melted all of He Yu’s anger.

Looking at her pitiful expression, He Yu couldn’t tell whether she was truly sad or merely being coy. He simply felt uneasy and could only comfort her gently until she broke into laughter.

He Yu sighed inwardly, “Ah, I always thought of myself as a heroic man, unmatched beneath the heavens. Who would’ve thought that after just a few days of marriage, I’d be so thoroughly wrapped around Deng’er’s finger? If this is what I’m like as a mere official, I’d surely be a feeble-minded emperor.”

Kingdoms and beauties—both are hard to win, and beauties are just as troublesome.

A large snowflake fluttered down from the sky. Looking up, he saw thick clouds, and snow, driven by the cold wind, was pouring down in great sheets, the temperature dropping further still.

He Yu, garrisoned within the city, felt chilled and weary as it was. The soldiers of Tianxiong Fort were camped out in the wild, exposed to the elements—their days must be even harsher. If this late spring chill persisted a few more days, Tianxiong Fort would surely fall into chaos without a fight, and the crisis facing the Chen family stronghold would be over.

When they convened in the main hall, everyone had considered this possibility. The mood was infectious, and spirits rose throughout the room.

Someone remarked, “Tianxiong Fort’s troops are just local militia—their siege equipment can’t compare to the imperial army’s. Thinking to swallow us whole is mere wishful thinking.”

Another laughed in agreement, “Diao Bao has thrown his weight around for years, never caring for others. It's time he was taught a lesson.”

Laughter and agreement filled the hall, optimism prevailing. Yet Chen Jing was not so sanguine. He voiced his concern, “It seems clear now that Tianxiong Fort alone could never take our stronghold—such an idea is pure fantasy. My only worry is that Murong Kai might intervene.”

Li Ling agreed, “Your concern is justified, lord. If the siege drags on, Murong Kai is bound to lend support, clearing the way for his assault on Wei. The only question is whether he’ll help openly or in secret.”

He Yu’s mind raced as he analyzed, “In my view, Murong Kai will only offer covert support. These days of deadlock have shown him our strength—if he openly breaks with us now, it offers him no advantage.”

As they were discussing this, a scout ran in to report that many catapults and siege towers had been erected on the opposite bank.

Everyone was alarmed and rushed with Chen Jing to the city wall. Across the river, towering siege towers stood in a long line, with more than a dozen massive catapults behind them.

The siege towers, looming high, could rain arrows down into the city. The catapults, comparable to modern indirect artillery, were formidable machines of war. The towers and catapults stood in dense formation—if the assault began, the bombardment would be fierce indeed.

Li Ling’s face darkened with worry. “Murong Kai has indeed intervened. Tianxiong Fort never had such large siege engines.”

Li Jun, too, sensed the gravity of the situation. Wielding his battle blade, he directed the troops atop the wall to fire strong bows and heavy crossbows at the enemy soldiers assembling the siege towers and catapults across the river.

A rain of arrows slowed the enemy’s work and cost them several men. Yet this time, Tianxiong Fort did not retreat, but instead pressed closer to the riverbank, returning fire at the defenders on the walls. Soldiers raised giant shields, sheltering those assembling the siege machines.

Li Jun estimated that at this pace, it would be no more than half a day before Tianxiong Fort launched a full-scale bombardment and their most frenzied assault.

He Yu, sensing the growing peril, suggested, “Once their siege engines begin, we’ll be under fire from all sides. Why not take some men tonight, launch a raid, and disrupt their plans?”

No one replied.

Chen Jing shook his head. “That won’t do. We’ve already raided their camp once—they’ll be on guard. If we send too few, it won’t matter; too many, and the cost is too high. I think we should reinforce the walls and hold firm.”

Chen Jing’s analysis was sound. Given the situation, there was no better plan than to rely on the fortress and defend it stubbornly.

He Yu’s mind grew clearer still: “In the end, war is a contest of manpower, equipment, and commanders’ strategy—a collective struggle. Hoping for a single hero to turn the tide alone is almost impossible. The myth of one man defeating ten thousand belongs only in the mindless dramas of later generations.” With this thought, any lingering notions of personal heroism or desire for the limelight vanished from his mind.

The situation grave, everyone dispersed to oversee the defenses. The night passed without incident. At dawn, Tianxiong Fort launched a fierce assault.

From the siege towers across the river, strong bows and powerful crossbows rained endless arrows down into the city. More types of bolts appeared: fire arrows, armor-piercers, whistling arrows, broadhead bolts. For a time, the city walls of the Chen stronghold echoed with the cries of the wounded.

Most terrifying of all were the massive catapults. Huge stones flew through the air, crashing down on battlements and towers, killing all in their path.

Fortunately, the walls had been strengthened over generations, and hastily reinforced of late. Though not as formidable as the greatest fortresses, they could hold out for some time.

Li Jun dashed back and forth, hoarse from shouting, commanding his troops to return fire with their own crossbows. But, outnumbered and outgunned, they gradually fell behind, casualties mounting. Still, everyone knew that if the city fell, none would survive, so each fought with desperate valor—no one retreated.

He Yu, long aware of the importance of ranged weapons, had, soon after becoming Centurion of the South Gate, combined modern shooting theory with local tactics to devise a set of efficient aiming methods, which he taught to his men. After rigorous training, their marksmanship improved dramatically. In today’s battle, they inflicted heavy losses on the enemy.

Boom, boom, boom, boom...

Suddenly, the war drums thundered across the river, each beat striking the defenders’ hearts like a hammer.