Volume One: Flames on the Frontier Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Desperate Struggle

He Yu knew that the human tide assault from Tianxiong Fortress was about to begin. Sure enough, amidst the sound of war drums, a large force of heavily armored soldiers burst from the enemy camp, shouting as they pushed siege vehicles and began forcibly constructing a bridge.

The siege vehicles were clad in iron, folded into three tiers, and mounted on wheels. Compared to those used in previous days, these were more than twice as large—presumably siege equipment supplied by Murong Kai.

Arrows rained down like a storm, stones crashed like thunder. Due to the overwhelming firepower from the high ground across the moat, the defenders of the Chen Family Stronghold could not stop Tianxiong Fortress from building their bridge this time.

In less than half an hour, a sturdy armored wooden bridge was erected over the moat.

The sky was dark and gloomy, devoid of light.

The defenders atop the walls of the Chen Family Stronghold looked at the siege vehicles over the moat, as if they were gazing upon a road to the underworld.

Once the moat’s barrier was breached, the overwhelming numerical advantage of Tianxiong Fortress would be brought to bear, and whether Chen Family Stronghold could still be held would be in grave doubt.

Clang, clang, clang... A series of clear, ringing chimes drifted through the air, and all assaults from Tianxiong Fortress ceased at once. A deathly silence fell over the battlefield, broken only by the howling of the cold wind.

In the dusk, a lone rider emerged slowly from the ranks of Tianxiong Fortress—it was Lord Diao Bao himself. He was fully armored, a look of triumph on his face, surrounded by a ring of tall shields.

“Where is Master Chen? Since we parted at Xiemaling, I have thought of you day and night. Come out and let us meet,” Diao Bao called up to the walls.

Chen Jing stood atop the battlements and cupped his fist in salute. “I trust Lord Diao has been well since we last met. I, Chen Jing, am here. What counsel do you bring?”

Diao Bao laughed coldly, “Master Chen, you are frank and quick of speech, so I will not mince words. Your Chen Family Stronghold relies on nothing but this sixty-foot-wide moat. Now that the moat is breached, the fate of your city rests on my whim.”

“Yet I treasure talent and cannot bear to see the people of your stronghold perish. I sincerely advise you to surrender the city and share in wealth and honor with us.”

“I pledge my own head as a guarantee—past grievances will be forgotten, and not a soul in your stronghold will be harmed. What say you, Master Chen?”

Chen Jing laughed in anger. “Tianxiong Fortress covets my lands and has slain my people, yet speaks of sharing wealth and honor? Two years ago, Lord Diao, you attacked Shanyang Fortress and likewise pledged your head as guarantee. In the end, not even a chicken or dog was left alive there. Such heroic feats I did not witness myself, but I have heard the tales.”

Thus exposed, Diao Bao’s face flushed with anger as he bellowed, “Since you will not heed good advice, I have no choice but to order the assault. What a pity, what a tragedy, that your stronghold’s century of legacy and ten thousand souls will be ruined by your obstinacy!” With that, he turned his horse and rode back to the lines.

Chen Jing, enraged, was about to string his bow and shoot Diao Bao down, when He Yu drew closer and said softly, “My lord, do not act in anger. Parley with Diao Bao and ask for a day’s grace. I have another plan.”

Chen Jing looked doubtful, but knowing He Yu’s steady wisdom, he refrained from pressing for details, trusting there must be a good stratagem.

Accordingly, Chen Jing sighed deeply and called out in sorrow, “Lord Diao, wait! Allow me a day to consider. I will give my answer tomorrow.”

Diao Bao’s eyes sparkled, and turning his horse, he replied with feigned magnanimity, “Master Chen, you are indeed a dragon among men, discerning the times. Very well, I will grant you a day’s reprieve and suspend the assault, awaiting your favorable reply.”

Diao Bao saw the Chen Family Stronghold as prey already in the pot, sure to be his. If he could take it peacefully, why risk a stormy assault? Once the stronghold was in his hands, the fate of its people would rest entirely with him. He had heard that Chen Jing had a beautiful younger sister—he was eager to see her for himself. The more he thought about it, the more wicked his thoughts grew, and he returned to his camp in high spirits.

After coming down from the wall, Chen Jing gathered his commanders in the main hall. The turn of events was unexpected, and a heavy gloom weighed upon their hearts. They all understood that the talk of surrender was but a pretext.

The fate of the Chen Family Stronghold would be decided in tomorrow’s bloody battle. Whether they won or lost, many present would not live to see another sunrise.

Chen Jing’s face was ashen as he questioned He Yu, “You asked me to delay a day, do you have a plan?”

With lives on the line, He Yu did not keep them in suspense. “Tianxiong Fortress has sent all its forces to attack, leaving its home base empty. Tonight, I intend to lead all our cavalry, with Brother Bojun, and strike directly at their fortress, to lift the siege on our stronghold.”

He Yu possessed professional military acumen and knew that passive defense would only lead to certain death; only active defense offered a sliver of hope. The current situation called for mutual strikes—let them attack us, and we attack them—using offense as defense and exploiting the difference in timing to turn crisis into survival.

Of course, this was a desperate gambit. If Tianxiong Fortress proved well-defended and they failed to take it quickly, with the main force of the Chen Family Stronghold absent, Diao Bao could storm their city with disastrous consequences. But if they simply sat and waited for death, fighting a war of attrition, the fall of the city was only a matter of time.

Chen Jing’s face twitched with grim determination. Without waiting for further discussion, he looked around and declared, “My mind is made up. We’ll do as He Yu suggests. To risk our lives is to die; not to risk them is also to die. It’s up to all of us now.”

No one had expected such a bold plan from He Yu. After consideration, they saw that while risky, the potential rewards were great. Better to die in glorious battle than wait for death. Thus, with Chen Jing’s resolve set, fear turned into a gambler’s excitement.

Li Jun wanted to go with He Yu on the raid, but Chen Jing stopped him. With the main force gone, the city would be vulnerable, and Li Jun’s expertise in defense was needed for overall command.

This was an all-or-nothing gamble, and Chen Jing resolved to ride out personally. Time was short. At his command, all available cavalry rapidly assembled. Speed was critical, so they shed their armor, carrying only offensive weapons—ready for a death-or-glory charge.

No hope for survival, only forward into death.

Deng’er, too, donned light gear, bow and spear at the ready, sticking close to He Yu. The danger was extreme; if He Yu died, she would not outlive him. Since that was the case, she would rather die together as husband and wife.

Born to a military household, Deng’er was no stranger to arms, though she had never fought in battle. On her first campaign, at her beloved husband’s side, she felt more excitement than fear, even a touch of nobility.

Cavalry was of little use in defense, so this was a desperate all-out charge—all who could ride had come.

From white-haired elders to beardless youths, they mustered just over eight hundred riders.

He Yu looked around. Chen Qingyun and Li Yu were also ready; even old steward Li Ling, over seventy, sat astride his warhorse and lance.

Since this plan was He Yu's, command was his. To avoid drawing attention, he divided the eight hundred into twelve groups, slipping them quietly out the west, north, and east gates by turn, hurrying along side paths to rendezvous at Xiemaling in half an hour.

Scouts had already reported that most enemy troops had withdrawn from the three gates; the way was clear.

At the order, the warriors bit down on mouthpieces and wrapped their horses’ hooves, departing in silence. As He Yu spurred his horse, Chen Qingyun and Deng’er rode up to flank him left and right. Deng’er, greatly displeased, pouted and said not a word.

He Yu was preoccupied with the task at hand, and had no time for lovers’ quarrels. Half an hour later, they regrouped at Xiemaling; not a man missing, proving the strategy of divided advance and convergent attack was halfway to success.

Tianxiong Fortress lay seventy or eighty li away—an hour’s hard ride. They galloped through the night, reaching the fortress before midnight.

Tianxiong Fortress was built between two mountains, a massive square city with corner towers at each corner, though lacking a moat as there was no running water. In scale, it was grander than the Chen Family Stronghold.

There was no moon that night; a bitter north wind swept the darkness, the mountain silhouettes looming like monstrous beasts ready to pounce.

Torchlight flickered sparsely atop the fortress walls—no sign of movement. He Yu hesitated. “My lord, there’s not a soul in sight. Could this be a trap?”

A flash of resolve crossed Chen Jing’s face. “No retreat—if it’s a trap, we’ll still risk it!” At his signal, men brought up scaling ladders, preparing to storm the wall.

“Wait—let me go first.”

He Yu dismounted, took a grappling hook from his robe, crept to the base of the wall, and flung it up, hooking it onto a shadowy battlement.

He tested the rope; finding it secure, he began to climb. Scaling walls bare-handed was a skill for special soldiers—he did it with practiced ease, swinging up onto the parapet in moments.

All eyes watched, hearts in their throats, as He Yu climbed like an ape, quickly reaching the top. Silent cheers were stifled in their chests.

He Yu glanced around. A few paper lanterns flickered in the wind; several sentries, leaning on spears, drooled in their sleep, oblivious.

He Yu crept down the stairs to the guardroom below, where the gate mechanism was kept. One guard, roused by a sound, mumbled sleepily, “Who’s there? What are you doing?”

Before He Yu could reply, another muttered, “It’s just a rat—go back to sleep. With the Prince of Taiyuan backing us, who’d dare mess with Tianxiong Fortress?”

He Yu chuckled softly. “A year from today will be your death anniversary.” He slipped forward, raised his blade, and slit both their throats.

After a search, he found the winch for the gate. With a few turns, the massive doors swung silently open.

He Yu, holding a lantern, stood in the gateway and waved it repeatedly.

Chen Jing, overjoyed, pulled up his mask and commanded in a low voice, “He Yu has succeeded! Everyone, charge in! Be swift, strike hard!”

Li Yu added, “Those assigned to set fires, follow me—start upwind!”

Shouts rang out—“Kill! Kill!”

The warriors spurred their horses, charging into the city. Deep in the night, Tianxiong Fortress was lost in slumber. The night watch was lax; when the cries of slaughter erupted, chaos reigned—the defenders had no idea whence the enemy had come, and the place was thrown into utter panic.

Deng’er, leading her white horse, rushed to He Yu’s side. He Yu vaulted into the saddle and led the charge for the inner fortress. The Chen warriors, eyes aflame, stabbed and trampled all in their path, killing like vengeful spirits from hell.

Li Ling, familiar with the fortress from past official visits, knew the location of the drill ground. He ordered his men to beat the muster drum there. Under ancient military law, failure to gather by the third drumbeat was punishable by death.

Roused from their dreams, the Tianxiong garrison, like headless flies, ran amok. Hearing the drum, they rushed toward the drill ground—only to be cut down by Li Ling’s archers, lying in wait to the last man.

Seasoned old general that he was, Li Ling’s methodical slaughter broke the fortress’s defense at once.

Now the wind fanned the flames, sending tongues of fire dozens of feet high into the night sky, glowing red across the horizon. The entire fortress became a hellish inferno of screams and wailing.

Chen Jing ordered riders to gallop through the streets, crying, “The Army of the Desperate is here in force—those who resist will be killed without mercy!” (The Army of the Desperate was a group of armed Han refugees active north and south of the Yellow River during the Eastern Jin period. As the name implies, they begged for survival in chaotic times—a tragic and heroic sight. Their operations were scattered, lacking unified command; some acted alone, others attached themselves to various powers.)

By dawn, the startled residents of Tianxiong Fortress knelt in small groups along the roads in submission. Deng’er, though a novice to battle, showed no fear, felling several foes in quick succession.

He Yu asked with concern, “Deng’er, are you afraid?” She replied, “With you, I’m not afraid. If I don’t kill him, he’ll kill me—fear is useless.”

It was not a matter of right or wrong, only of life and death.