Volume One: Borderland Flames, Chapter Eighty-Five: A Battle to the Death-Dominant Warlord's Court(Lu Bridge)

Cui Hao was, after all, the son of a great aristocratic clan; he was not the sort to let emotion cloud his judgment and do something foolish. But this private suffering of unrequited love was something he would have to bear alone.

When He Yu saw everyone looking at him, waiting for an answer, he felt somewhat put on the spot. This matter was extraordinary and bore directly on the success or failure of Pingcheng’s defenses, so it was not appropriate for everyone to know.

Cui Liang was the sort who could read a room at a glance. Seeing He Yu hesitate and stop short of speaking, he immediately understood and laughed. “Too many mouths make too much noise. Since Yu has already come up with a good plan, it is better not to say more for now.”

He Yu cupped his hands in apology. “Exactly so. My apologies.”

They were all on the same battlefield, and no reminder was needed for them to understand what mattered and what could wait. Everyone waved off his apology, signaling that there was no need for it.

After inspecting the enemy from the city walls, Lu Yi led them to see the preparations for the hunting nets and spiked maces. After several days of urgent production and gathering, the nets and maces were more or less ready. These tasks were not especially difficult, and Lu Yi was a sharp-tongued man besides, so the craftsmen did not dare be negligent and completed the work to a high standard.

Tuoba Yan, Cui Liang, He Yu, and the others took a look and praised Lu Yi at length. He Yu, in particular, commended him for “a singularly ingenious craft, the work of divine hands,” and that struck Lu Yi exactly where he was most pleased. He felt delighted and suddenly thought that He Yu was not so hateful after all; he might be worth befriending. These noble scions, truth be told, were not bad people, and some were even rather innocent. They simply liked to put on airs and carry themselves so haughtily that they became annoying.

When they left the workshops, Yuan Hui took the others to see the training of the combat squads. Following the principle that men must not wait for equipment, but equipment for men, Yuan Bin had already used mock devices to train the fighters into something quite presentable. The Yuan family of Runan was no longer what it had once been; its strength was no longer among the foremost. Lacking strength meant lacking people, so there were many times when they had to rely on their own hands.

Although Yuan Hui was older, unlike the fortified estates of other great clans, he could not sit back and leave everything to servants. He had always personally managed all matters of the household. Precisely for that reason, having him train the soldiers was the best use of his abilities, and it also revealed the care Cui Liang had taken in assigning work. He Yu had never considered this before, but now that he thought of it, he greatly admired Cui Liang’s talent for leadership.

Yuan Hui had never stepped away from practical work. This time, too, he wanted to show his face before the others, so he treated the training with the utmost seriousness and kept a tight grip on it. After watching the drills, everyone found the results better than expected, and their confidence in defeating the men who climbed the walls grew by another measure. If weaving the nets and forging the maces required only words and not hands, with careful and stern supervision, then training the combat squads was far more exhausting: it required both speaking and doing, and even thought.

Naturally everyone knew how difficult such work was, and they praised Yuan Hui one after another. Cui Liang, especially, said openly, “If we can crush the Yan rebels in one stroke this time, Yuan Hui will have made the greatest contribution of all.” He even added that if circumstances allowed, he would invite Yuan Hui to the Cui clan of Qinghe to give a lesson to the clan’s younger generation. Yuan Hui beamed at the praise, and especially at Cui Liang’s invitation. He was overjoyed and felt his face had gained much honor; these past days of effort had not been in vain.

They had inspected the enemy situation today, and in the afternoon there would still be further discussion, so they all ate in the military tent together. Though the matter was urgent as a fire at the eaves, it did not stop these great men from enjoying life. At the meal, the dishes were still lavish, and singing and dancing still flourished. When they had eaten and drunk their fill, servants presented fragrant tea, and the deliberations in the tent began.

It was then that He Yu offered his judgment: Murong Lin was very likely to launch his attack at dawn on the second day after sending his cavalry back to camp. Everyone was suddenly enlightened. On careful thought, it made perfect sense, and all admired He Yu as though he could foresee the future.

Cui Liang gave orders in public, directing the sentries in the watchtower to post more men and keep the walls under constant surveillance, reporting at once if there was any sign of enemy cavalry returning to camp.

At the same time, he sent men to contact Linghu Xiao outside the city, instructing him to lead his cavalry to follow closely and secretly, and hide outside Murong Lin’s main camp. Once battle began, they would not wait for the red signal lanterns on the walls, but would enter the fight immediately. Moreover, Linghu Xiao was to command flexibly in the field and would no longer be controlled from afar.

A storm was gathering; a great battle was about to break. The atmosphere in Pingcheng grew tense. He Yu and Qing Yun went to the military tent every day to take part in the planning, offer suggestions, and fill the gaps. Linghu Xiao sent in a written report by arrow: his men had already reached a point twenty li from Murong Lin’s camp and had found the armor and long weapons previously buried there. This time, in his raids, his cavalry would no longer strike once and withdraw, but would seize opportunities to attack and fight the enemy to the death.

Linghu Xiao’s cavalry were the elite of the Northern Wei horsemen, with exceptionally strong individual combat ability. After these days of raiding and hard riding, their discipline had become very strict; they could now advance and withdraw at will. When the great battle began, they would serve as a surprise force and deal Murong Lin a fatal blow.

That afternoon, while He Yu and the others were discussing matters in the tent, a messenger entered to report that dust had risen in the Yan camp and many horsemen were filing into the encampment one after another.

Had the cavalry sent out by the enemy returned?

Tuoba Yan and Cui Liang immediately ended the meeting and led everyone up to the watchtower. Looking down from the high ground, they saw billowing clouds of dust in the distance: it was indeed the enemy cavalry returning to camp. According to He Yu’s estimate, Murong Lin’s attack would come at dawn the day after tomorrow.

The hour of deciding victory or defeat had arrived. At Cui Liang’s command, orders were issued throughout Pingcheng: flags were lowered, drums silenced, vigilance was heightened, and everyone stood ready to repel the enemy’s assault at any moment. The execution squads were also put in place; anyone who defied military law would be cut down without pardon. The soldiers naturally knew this great battle would be the final decisive struggle, and no one dared be careless.

Time seemed frozen, so slow it was almost suffocating. At last one day passed in a crawl, then came the long night; when that night was over, another day of torment followed. Finally, the appointed moment He Yu had foreseen arrived.

The darkness held no light, not the slightest breath of wind stirred, and there seemed to be a thin mist in the air. City and camp alike lay in utter silence, with not a drum or horn to be heard. Tuoba Yan, Cui Liang, and the others kept watch in the main tent, holding the overall situation in hand. He Yu and the other commanders skilled in martial arts had already ascended the battlements and were hidden in the shadows. Pingcheng’s southern gate faced the Yan camp directly; the view was broad and open, and the front was the widest and hardest to defend.

This time Murong Lin attacked from all four sides without a main focus, so the southern gate bore the greatest pressure. It was therefore defended jointly by He Yu, his wife, and Yuan Hui. He Yu, Qing Yun, and Yuan Hui, all in armor, concealed themselves in the blind angle beside the battlements and listened to the sounds below. Judging by the sky, it was already past midnight, yet there was still no movement from the other side.

He Yu began to doubt himself. Had his prediction been wrong? Would Murong Lin not attack the city today after all? Just as he was about to lean out and see for himself, Yuan Hui pressed a hand downward, and faint rustling sounds drifted into his ear, indistinct and intermittent, like footsteps. The night was black as ink, and the watch posts atop the city towers had lost their usefulness.

After a while, a soldier in charge of lookout on the wall quietly came over to report, “It is now clear. Murong Lin is attacking by stealth. Not only did he avoid drums and horns, he did not even send the wall-climbing death troops to lead the charge. Instead he put black-clad suicide squads in front. To keep their armor from scraping and making a sound, these men are not wearing armor at all. He has truly spared no effort.”

Yuan Hui leaned in and said, “Murong Lin is indeed cunning. Not only are his men unarmored, they are even crawling forward. It is fortunate that Lord He’s calculations were precise, or else this would have ruined everything.”

He Yu looked down through the crenels and saw, in the darkness outside the city, many black-clad figures carrying scaling ladders and stooping low as they slowly approached the wall. The night was as dark as ink, and the mist was growing thicker; without careful attention, it would truly have been hard to make them out.

He Yu thought to himself, Murong Lin truly deserves his reputation as a famous general. This arrangement, these two moves, already touched upon the essence of modern special operations. Even by the standards of this age, it was first-rate strategy. If it were anyone else, they would certainly have fallen for it.

He ordered the soldier beside him, “Go at once and notify the other four gates. The enemy has arrived; remain on guard.”

The soldier took the order and departed.

He Yu watched the wall below tensely and swept the command flag in his hand. “Pour the hot water!”

The words had barely left his mouth before a great crashing roar arose: a deluge of boiling water surged over the wall, followed by screams as shrill as slaughtered pigs.

“Aaah!”

...

Amid the howls came the dull thuds of bodies falling from the wall to the ground below.

The Yan raid was checked by the scalding water. Yuan Hui drew his battle blade and shouted, “The Yan dogs have come here to die today. Kill them hard!”

He Yu and Qing Yun also drew their swords and directed the soldiers defending the city.

The heavens were unkind today; after midnight a thick fog rose, making it ideal for a stealth assault on the city.

Murong Lin, Murong Shao, and the other commanders hid in the darkness and watched their men silently and stealthily approach the wall. When the ladders were set and the defenders still had not noticed, they were overjoyed. But before that joy could settle, boiling water shrouded in white steam came crashing down from above, scalding the assault troops off the wall in an instant.

“Ha, it seems there are experts hidden in Pingcheng after all. So be it. If stealth fails, then we storm the walls by force.”

Murong Lin had been full of expectation for this stealth attack, never imagining it would be seen through for no reason at all, and that his opponent seemed even to have anticipated the time of the assault and prepared in advance. He had run into a natural enemy. Who could it be?

“Sixth Prince, the stealth assault has been blocked and the Wei troops are prepared. What should we do?” a commander asked.

“Sixth Brother, could there be a traitor among us who leaked the time of the attack?” Tuoba Shao, ever prone to judging others by his own petty heart, raised the same suspicion.

“Impossible. The time of the assault was decided by me at the last moment. Seventh Brother need not be suspicious.” Murong Lin brandished his battle blade and gave a loud command. “Warriors of Great Yan, the fog has risen. Heaven itself is protecting us. For the sake of our Emperor, flatten Pingcheng and capture Tuoba Yan alive!”

At his order, torches were lit, drums and horns sounded together, and the soldiers of Later Yan divided into dozens of columns. Led by the wall-climbing death troops, they raised shields and curved sabers, hoisted ladders, and surged forward like a tide, violently pounding against this vast solitary city.

“Flatten Pingcheng, capture Tuoba Yan alive! Charge! Charge! Charge!”

...