WNST - 132

Chapter 132: The Art of War

According to The History of Yu: Chronicles of Emperor Zhaozong, on the first day of the fifth month of the Jiaxu year, Xu Zhou, the eighth son of Emperor Yuanzong, ascended the throne as Emperor Zhaozong of Yu. He honored his father, Emperor Yuanzong, who remained in the north, as the Retired Emperor, and changed the era name to Qianding. 

On the third day of the fifth month of Qianding Year One, the new emperor issued his first imperial decree. Xie’s sixth daughter from Lidu Prefecture, for her meritorious service in aiding the rise of the new dynasty, was posthumously bestowed the title “Lady Zhongyong of Loyalty and Valor” and was to be buried with full military honors—the first woman in the dynasty to receive such an honor. 

On the fourth day of the fifth month of Qianding Year One, urgent reports came from the front lines. A force of 50,000 Qi troops had secretly marched through Shangyang Pass, intending to attack Lidu Prefecture. Lidu Prefecture hastily recruited 10,000 soldiers, appointing Ying Huai, the commander of Yucheng’s army, as the supreme general, and Song Muchuan, the current governor of Lidu Prefecture, as the battle strategist, to hastily prepare for defense. 

The Qi army advanced southward with unstoppable momentum. By the fifteenth day of the same month, they had occupied Luyang Town as their main base, separated from the outer walls of Lidu Prefecture only by the treacherous Xiaoyang Gorge. 

Xiaoyang Gorge was a narrow valley, barely wide enough for ten people to walk side by side. During spring and summer, the dense foliage of trees lining the path made it an ideal place for ambushes—like catching turtles in a jar, impossible to defend against. 

The Qi army was extremely cautious and did not rashly advance. 

Lidu Prefecture held the natural barrier firmly while requesting reinforcements from the new dynasty in Jinling. If they could hold out for another ten days, reinforcements would arrive. Though the situation was perilous, the entire army was united in purpose, determined to avenge their earlier defeats once reinforcements arrived. 

However, on this particular day, heated arguments erupted in the main camp. Everyone heard a firm “No means no!” followed by the usually mild-mannered Governor Song storming out of the tent in anger. 

The only person who could provoke such a reaction from Governor Song was likely the mysterious strategist. 

This strategist always concealed their identity under a helmet, making it impossible to discern their appearance. Though holding no official military rank, their ingenious strategies had repeatedly achieved extraordinary results with minimal effort. Despite the Qi army’s seemingly unstoppable advance, our forces avoided direct confrontation in unfavorable terrain due to the strategist’s foresight, cutting off several potential routes of attack with minimal losses and forcing the Qi army to funnel through Xiaoyang Gorge. 

Rumors about this strategist spread like wildfire in the camp, with some even comparing them to the reincarnation of Zhuge Liang. 

But if the soldiers knew that the strategist was none other than Xie Queshan, public opinion might take a very different turn. 

Xie Queshan had gone to great lengths to conceal his identity, fearing that his presence might stir controversy and destabilize morale. Thus, he remained a shadowy figure behind the scenes, known only to Song Muchuan and a few trusted officers from the Yucheng army. 

He had always been discreet in his actions, so today’s heated argument with Song Muchuan was unusual. The issue at hand was the dire shortage of food supplies. The city’s reserves were critically low; during the Qi occupation of Lidu Prefecture, they had deliberately emptied the granaries to weaken our defenses. Initially, the soldiers’ morale helped them endure, but hunger was not a sustainable solution. 

The Xie family donated all their stored grain, inspiring wealthy locals to contribute as well. However, with the enemy at the gates, panic spread throughout the city, causing many to flee southward, resulting in severe loss of supplies. Their efforts ultimately amounted to little more than a drop in the bucket. 

Xie Queshan proposed sending troops behind enemy lines to raid the Qi army’s supplies as a temporary solution. But the risks were too high, and Song Muchuan decisively rejected the plan. 

Xie Queshan countered—then what brilliant idea do you have? 

Song Muchuan had no answer. He was at a loss, but he couldn’t condone a suicidal mission either. Throughout history, defending a city with insufficient supplies had always been difficult, but sometimes there was no choice but to endure. Besides, if reinforcements arrived, the siege would naturally be lifted. Acting as a dictator for once, he refused outright, leaving before Xie Queshan could argue further. 

Just as Xie Queshan was wracking his brain for solutions, a letter arrived from Shu. 

It read: “Little Queshan, stealing my granary—this grudge won’t be forgotten. Wait right there; I’ll settle this in autumn!” 

This was unmistakably Zhang Yuehui’s tone. 

It turned out that Gui Lai Tang still had stockpiles of grain hidden in the city. Xie Queshan couldn’t help but laugh. This kid had fled so far away yet still wielded immense influence. Money truly solved everything—even being called “little one” by Zhang Yuehui felt sweet now. Following this lead, they systematically searched Gui Lai Tang’s properties and located the hidden grain within half a day. 

Gratefully, Xie Queshan led a team to “raid” the granary, fully acknowledging Zhang Yuehui as his “great benefactor.” 

With the food supply secured, Xie Queshan observed increased activity among the Qi forces. Sensing their restlessness, he predicted they would launch an attack on Xiaoyang Gorge within three days. He ordered troops to set up ambushes on the high ground flanking the valley. 

True to his prediction, on the afternoon of the third day, the Qi vanguard attempted to cross the gorge. The ambushers on the high ground launched their attack, initially gaining the upper hand. However, the Qi army had anticipated this and sent reinforcements to scale the heights, engaging the ambushers in fierce combat. This time, the ambush backfired, and the Yu forces retreated in disarray. 

But Wanyan Puruo and Han Xianwang were cautious. Fearing further ambushes, they sounded the retreat after probing the situation and withdrew without pressing their advantage. 

In subsequent direct confrontations, the disparity in strength became evident. Despite the geographical advantages held by the Lidu forces, they suffered repeated crushing defeats. The Qi army, now confident, abandoned their cautious probing and launched a full-scale assault to seize Xiaoyang Gorge. 

Once the bulk of their forces entered the heart of the valley, suddenly banners filled the sky, drums and horns blared, and elite troops—long concealed in the reeds—charged forth. Each soldier was a formidable warrior, capable of taking on ten enemies, catching the overconfident Qi forces completely off guard. 

The earlier feigned retreat had been part of Xie Queshan’s strategy to lure the Qi army deeper into the trap. Having faced little resistance thus far, they had grown complacent. The high ground was swiftly retaken, and arrows and boulders rained down upon the Qi forces. Attempting to retreat, their rear units struggled to turn around, causing chaos and widespread casualties from trampling. 

The Qi army fled in disarray. At this moment, Xie Queshan prepared to lead a pursuit, but Ying Huai urgently stopped him. 

“This battle has already broken their momentum. Luyang Town is still heavily guarded. Do not pursue a cornered enemy.”

Xie Queshan reined in his horse, his iron armor stained with blood, and the eyes visible beneath his helmet burned with unwavering determination. 

“What we need is for the Qi army to retreat into Luyang Town filled with fear of being pursued. As long as they feel even a sliver of dread or hesitation, we’ll have a chance to turn the tide.” 

“All troops, follow me to chase the enemy!” His voice rang out like a death sentence from the King of Hell. The Yu forces, who had been dispirited by previous defeats, now roared with renewed vigor, their battle cries shaking the heavens. 

Ying Huai watched Xie Queshan’s resolute figure charge into the enemy ranks, and a sense of awe stirred within him. Every sword strike Xie Queshan delivered seemed to cut through years of hatred and humiliation. He had carried this grudge for so long, and now he was finally unleashing it with unbridled clarity. He was an uncrowned king; wherever he went, victory followed. Ying Huai no longer hesitated and rushed after that figure, plunging himself into the fray. 

Flames licked at the dry grass and reeds, and the black mass of soldiers surged forward like a tide. The clanging of their footsteps seemed to shake the very valley. The towering cliffs on either side loomed oppressively, amplifying the brutality of the slaughter. The valley felt like a deep coffin. 

Under such overwhelming pressure, the Qi army retreated into the town. Despite boasting 50,000 troops, Han Xianwang dared not open the gates to engage in battle again. 

Han Xianwang couldn’t gauge how many soldiers Lidu Prefecture truly had. In his eyes, Wanyan Jun’s entire army had been annihilated there, and now, in their confrontation at Xiaoyang Gorge, the Qi forces had once again fallen into disarray. It seemed that Lidu Prefecture possessed terrifying combat strength. 

Moreover, his opponent was Xie Queshan. After underestimating him once and suffering a harsh lesson, Han Xianwang became far more cautious. He knew well of Xie Queshan’s talent for leading troops—they had faced off during the defense of Youdu Prefecture. With only 1,000 soldiers, Xie Queshan had held his ground for over a month before being forced to surrender due to the collapse of his supply lines. 

Knowing Han Xianwang’s current conservatism, Xie Queshan deliberately created illusions of a larger force within the camp to mislead the enemy spies. 

As long as the Qi army refrained from attacking for now, Lidu Prefecture could minimize casualties and hold out until reinforcements from Jinling arrived. 

Though this battle had been a brilliant victory, greatly boosting morale, the cost had been severe—over a hundred soldiers had died or been wounded. 

The battlefield stretched endlessly, and the air still carried the stench of blood. Xie Queshan joined the others in carrying the bodies of fallen soldiers back for burial. The fleeting joy of victory was overshadowed by the weight of loss. 

The price of war was death. 

Xie Queshan knew more would die. But breaking through Loulan remained their unshakable belief, and dying wrapped in horsehide was the greatest honor for a warrior. 

After finishing all this and returning to camp, it was already daytime the next day. 

By then, Xie Queshan hadn’t slept for nearly three days. Only now, as he let down his guard, did he feel a faint wave of exhaustion creeping over him. But there were still countless matters in the camp demanding his attention—he needed to plan countermeasures in case the Qi forces regrouped and launched a sudden counterattack, and deal with the stubborn spies still lurking in the city… 

He forced himself to stay upright, appearing unscathed as he strode toward the camp. 

Suddenly, a pair of cool hands grasped his, startling him into momentary alertness. 

It was a different sensation from the hilt of the sword he often held. He turned his head and saw a delicate-looking young soldier standing beside him, holding his hand gently and giving it a slight shake. 

A smile spread across Xie Queshan’s face. 

The young soldier was none other than Nan Yi. She hadn’t stayed idle in the inner quarters but had volunteered to join the reconnaissance unit. Scouts specialized in gathering intelligence, and her agility and sharp instincts made her invaluable. During the earlier feigned retreats against the Qi forces, she had skillfully shuttled back and forth, providing critical updates on the front lines. 

“Come with me.” 

This was a rare moment of respite, and without waiting for Xie Queshan’s response, Nan Yi pulled him toward the hillside without hesitation. 

The camp was nestled in a secluded hollow outside the outer walls of Lidu Prefecture, backed by a lush little hill. The early summer breeze in the mountains was refreshing, brushing against their faces and easing the oppressive heat. 

Nan Yi led him to sit under the shade of a tree and took the initiative to remove his helmet. 

Xie Queshan let her do as she pleased. Though countless pressing matters awaited him, at this moment, he wanted to sit quietly with her, just for a while. 

Nan Yi sat beside him, saying nothing, and simply used a corner of her robe to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“Tired?” Nan Yi asked. 

Xie Queshan instinctively wanted to say no, but the undeniable fatigue caught up with him before the words left his mouth, forcing him to admit the truth. 

“A little,” he replied hoarsely. 

She tilted her head and smiled. “After last night’s great victory, I waited for you to return. They said you were clearing the battlefield and didn’t know when you’d be back. I ended up falling asleep while waiting—and slept pretty well, too.” 

Xie Queshan finally laughed, ruffling her hair. “You could sleep through the sky falling.” 

His mind was heavy, and his sleep had always been shallow. 

“Sleep. I’ll keep watch for you.” 

“Huh?” Xie Queshan was taken aback. Seeing Nan Yi’s determined expression, he still felt uncertain. “Now? Here?” 

He had thought they hadn’t had a moment alone in days and that she wanted some intimacy. He never expected her efforts were solely to let him take a nap here. 

“Yes. If you were in the camp, you’d be overwhelmed with tasks and wouldn’t get a moment’s rest. Here, no one will disturb you. Just sleep—” Xie Queshan didn’t respond, and Nan Yi grew anxious, adding, “If you don’t rest properly, forget about fighting on the battlefield—you’ll collapse in the camp today! Are you made of iron? Don’t be stubborn. Haven’t you heard? Sharpening your axe doesn’t delay chopping wood. Rest for a bit—it won’t delay anything.” 

He looked into her earnest, urgent eyes and chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll sleep.” 

Nan Yi glared at him, her brows furrowing. “Then close your eyes already.” 

Obediently, Xie Queshan closed his eyes. 

But the sun was already glaring, so Nan Yi carefully pulled out a silk ribbon from her sleeve and gently tied it around his head. 

Xie Queshan silently complied. He could feel her arms gently reaching behind his head, her movements tender and cautious, careful not to touch him. Though he had just closed his eyes and couldn’t possibly fall asleep, she treated him as if he were fragile porcelain, as though he might break at the slightest touch. She seemed to be tying an intricate knot, her face drawing closer, her breath warm against him, her fingers occasionally grazing the nape of his neck with feather-light touches.

After the silk ribbon covered his eyes, most of the sunlight was blocked out, and she created a soothing darkness for him to rest in. He felt an inexplicable sense of comfort settle over his heart. 

Then she withdrew her hands, seemingly about to retreat. He reached out and pulled her waist toward him, causing her to lose balance and fall into his arms. 

“Don’t move. Sleep,” he declared brazenly before she could even attempt to get up. 

Nan Yi had no choice but to nestle into his embrace, thinking that if this position helped him sleep better, then so be it—she would indulge him in everything. 

A stolen half-day of leisure. The sunlight warmed them gently, and the still air wove through the gaps between the leaves. 

Xie Queshan thought he wouldn’t fall asleep, but after only a short while, a soft snore escaped him. 

The joy of victory and the presence of his beloved allowed him to briefly lower his guard, letting him drift off peacefully in the vast wilderness. Everything felt just right; he had never felt such brightness ahead of him.