CXD - 81

The group devised a second plan: splitting into two forces to support each other and mitigate risks. However, this required diverting troops from the fiercely contested southern gate of the city.

But the southern gate was already a stalemate between the two armies, and moving troops could disrupt the balance, plunging the southern gate into peril. Moreover, if the enemy noticed the reduction in forces at the southern gate and heard about an attack from the northern gate, they would surely realize it was a feint and remain unshaken.

“Actually, the situation on the walls is relatively stable for now,” someone suggested. “It’s just that we’re short-handed at the gates. If we can fill in those positions, both sides can continue the stalemate, and the enemy won’t immediately notice our troop movements. We can buy some time.”

Jiang Zhiyi perked up again: “So it doesn’t have to be soldiers, just manpower?”

“Yes, but there’s probably no one else to call upon. In Hexi, every household could contribute soldiers, but here, the common folk lack combat ability—it’s too dangerous to send them into battle.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded: “We are people with no way out, but the common people do have a way out. We cannot risk their lives.”

Silence fell over the room once more as everyone faced the impossible task of strategizing without resources. Jiang Zhiyi frowned and began pacing. After a moment, she paused, muttering to herself: “People with no way out… There’s another group like that in the city.”

Everyone looked at her hopefully.

“Last night, I heard that the former governor of Xingzhou had maintained control by harboring bandits, but later those bandits were suppressed,” Jiang Zhiyi pointed to the location of the prison on the map. “They should currently be imprisoned in the city jail awaiting execution after autumn.”

Sanqi’s eyes lit up: “Bandits make excellent fighters!”

Jiang Zhiyi thought for a moment before decisively declaring: “Send someone to inform Cao Sima. Ask if he can issue an order allowing the prisoners to redeem themselves through service in exchange for leniency. If so, distribute weapons and enlist them to fight alongside us!”

Cao Chen quickly gave his approval. The prisoners were released from the jail, along with the jailers, and sent to the southern gate. The long-imprisoned convicts, given a chance to fight for their survival, gripped large blades with fervor, their spirits high.

The reinforcements from the southern gate were handed over to Sanqi.

With his newfound manpower, Sanqi whistled for his warhorse, cracking his knuckles in preparation for a fierce battle.

At the entrance of the government office, Jiang Zhiyi bid farewell to the group. Watching them mount their horses swiftly, she tightened her hands hidden beneath her sleeves: “You are people I brought here. I promised to let you fight, but you must also promise me to return safely. Do you understand?”

In unison, they replied: “Yes, Young Mistress!”

Watching them ride off until they disappeared from sight, Jiang Zhiyi returned to the main hall of the government office, still uneasy. Soon after, reports came in that the number of wounded had surged, and the medics were overwhelmed. She dispatched constables to summon doctors from all the medical clinics in the city to the camp. Then, returning briefly to the rear courtyard, she temporarily reassigned Physician Feng, who had been caring for Pei Xueqing, to assist at the camp.

In the western wing, Pei Xueqing seemed to hear the commotion outside, her brows furrowed tightly, occasionally trembling in her sleep. She tossed restlessly, her jaw clenched as though even in her dreams, she dared not utter that name.

Seeing Pei Xueqing’s flushed face and recalling Physician Feng’s diagnosis of emotional distress, Jiang Zhiyi took a deep breath and made a decision. She instructed Pei’s maidservants and Jingzhe to guard the doors and windows, ensuring no one approached.

Once the two maidservants had withdrawn, Jiang Zhiyi sat by the bed, taking Pei Xueqing’s hand and speaking softly: “Xueqing Sister, I don’t know if you can hear me, but your heart is burdened, perhaps guilt-ridden over being unable to change the fate of your beloved, whose bones lie abandoned in the mountains. But what if I told you there’s still something you can do for him? Could you recover then?”

“Xueqing Sister, the person you love did not die for the country but was betrayed and murdered.”

“The great grudge remains unavenged, and the enemy’s iron cavalry is now very close to you. You cannot fall. Pull yourself together, and let’s win this battle together, alright?”

That evening, under the prolonged stalemate, the rebel army suddenly heard that the northern garrison of Xingyang had launched an attack, dividing into two forces from the southwest to encircle their rear. The rebels’ formation crumbled, and they hastily retreated.

The defenders at the southern gate seized the opportunity to counterattack, charging out of the city to pursue the retreating rebels. They secured another victory, earning a brief respite.

After two days of intense fighting, more than half of Xingyang’s defenders were casualties. The medics in the western camp worked tirelessly, their feet barely touching the ground as they labored through the night.

The next day, June 29th, the rebels realized they had fallen for a feint-and-flank tactic the previous day. Their general, Cangying, burned with fury and ordered reinforcements to be mobilized to Xingzhou, vowing to take Xingyang at any cost.

At dawn on June 30th, the thunderous sound of war drums echoed. After a day and night of rest, Xingyang’s defenders prepared for their third battle.

From dawn until dusk, the two armies once again locked into a stalemate. Unable to break through, the rebel army’s morale wavered. Suddenly, torrential rain descended, forcing them to retreat three times.

However, the weather was a double-edged sword. While the rain hindered the rebels, it also disrupted Xingyang.

That night, the temporary shelters built for refugees collapsed, leaving many homeless. Refugees flooded the streets, sparking internal chaos.

Meanwhile—

The army’s food supplies were critically low.

Arrow stocks were depleted.

Only a thousand able-bodied soldiers remained.

One grim report after another reached Jiang Zhiyi’s ears.

Late at night, in the western camp, soldiers drenched in sweat and blood collapsed under the awnings. Stretchers carried grievously wounded soldiers back and forth, while basins of bloody water were dumped into the muddy ground. Even the elite Xuan Ce Army, having returned from relocating refugees, leaned on their swords in the rain, heads bowed as they gasped for breath.

Under the umbrella held by Jingzhe, Jiang Zhiyi listened to the relentless pitter-patter of rain above her, her eyelashes trembling as she watched the scene unfold.

Jingzhe advised: “Young Mistress, tonight will likely be sleepless. Rest in the tent to preserve your strength. When Cao Sima arrives, we’ll discuss strategies together.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded, her movements mechanical as she stepped into the tent, her feet sinking into the bloody mud.

Suddenly, a flash of white light illuminated the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Jiang Zhiyi jolted, gripping the table inside the tent. Overwhelmed, as if the final straw had broken her, she slowly sank to her knees.

“So many problems… If we fail to solve even one, it could cost everyone their lives…”

“Jingzhe, what do we do… How much longer can we hold on? Can we keep going?”

Jingzhe set the umbrella aside and crouched beside her, patting her back: “Young Mistress, there will always be a way. There must be a way.”

Just then, Sanqi’s voice calling for Cao Sima came from outside the tent. Jiang Zhiyi quickly stood, wiping away her tears and composing herself.

Cao Chen and Sanqi entered, clad in raincoats, lifting the tent flap. Catching sight of her wiping her tears, they hesitated momentarily.

Jiang Zhiyi smiled faintly, gesturing for them to enter: “Cao Sima has arrived. Please, come in.”

Cao Chen strode into the tent, followed by a man and a woman.

“Zhiyi, little sister,” a familiar yet long-unheard female voice called out.

Jiang Zhiyi looked up and saw Pei Xueqing entering with Pei Zisong. Surprised, she stepped forward and grasped Pei Xueqing’s hand: “Xueqing Sister, you’re able to walk!”

Pei Xueqing clasped her hand tightly: “I heard everything you said that day. I won’t fall again. This battle—I want to fight alongside you, alongside everyone.”

Jiang Zhiyi, holding back tears at this first piece of good news in days, nodded.

Pei Zisong glanced at her reddened eyes: “Don’t worry. Xueqing and I have been distributing porridge to the refugees recently, and she’s treated many of them. These refugees will likely listen to her. We’ll go stabilize their hearts soon.”

Jiang Zhiyi looked at them and nodded: “Thank goodness for you both.”

Cao Chen spoke: “Regarding the shortage of arrows, I have a plan that I’ve discussed with my subordinates. We’ll hastily craft a batch of scarecrows, dress them in armor, and launch a feigned attack at night while beating the war drums. In the rain, visibility will be poor, and when they see figures on the walls, they’ll shoot arrows. This way, we can borrow their arrows—one step at a time. Each moment we endure brings General Shen closer.”

“That’s wonderful…” Jiang Zhiyi looked at Cao Chen. “Thank you all for believing in General Shen.”

“We are all people with no way out if the city falls. United, we stand strong.” Pei Xueqing gently patted her hand.

Cao Chen nodded: “Young Mistress, there’s no need for thanks. Eleven years ago, Lord Ning saved my life. Now, I pledge to serve you and all those trapped like I once was. I vow to give my life if necessary!”

Jiang Zhiyi was taken aback: “You knew my father?”

Cao Chen cupped his fist: “I’m originally from Qingzhou. Eleven years ago, I was a minor constable in the governor’s office there. Everything I know about defending a city comes from Lord Ning, who valiantly protected Qingzhou. His spirit still watches over you, Young Mistress. Do not lose heart.”

No wonder Cao Chen had frozen when he first saw her—her resemblance to her father must have reminded him of the past.

While other provinces had already fallen, Xingzhou still held firm. It was because her father had left behind a lifeline for her. Tears welled up in Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes, shimmering with gratitude: “Alright, the only unresolved issue now is food supplies. Do the households in the city still have grain left?”

“Yes, but with continuous warfare, the common folk have seen too many starving refugees. They’re afraid that if they part with their rations, they’ll be next. Forcibly collecting military supplies could spark unrest. We need to persuade them gently, assure them that reinforcements are on the way.”

“Then leave it to me,” Jiang Zhiyi pressed her lips tightly. “This food—I’ll beg if I have to. I’ll secure it for everyone.”

On the night of June 30th, Xingyang’s defenders launched a feigned attack, using scarecrows to borrow arrows. They obtained fifty thousand arrows.

On July 1st, the rain cleared, and the rebel general Cangying, furious at falling for the ruse again, remained unmoved throughout the day, keeping his forces at bay.

July 2nd, Dawn of the Final Battle

On the second day of the seventh month, the sound of an approaching army shook the entire city as another fifty thousand troops closed in on Xingyang.

Only now did they realize that within hundreds of miles, all surrounding states had fallen. Xingyang stood alone, a besieged fortress. The rebels had amassed their forces to launch a full-scale assault on this struggling city.

In the afternoon of July 2nd, the fourth battle erupted. The two armies clashed from high noon until the moon rose high in the sky, with no sign of stopping.

Even after nightfall, when the darkness made attacking unfavorable, the rebels showed no intention of retreating.

For Xingyang, survival meant their doom. If they couldn’t seize Xingyang in this battle, they would likely face the iron cavalry of Hexi’s Xuan Ce Army.

Both sides were certain: this was the final showdown.

That night, the rebels surrounded Xingyang on three sides—south, east, and north—cutting off all escape routes. The decisive battle unfolded at the western gate.

The defenders of Xingyang fought with their backs against the wall, driven by desperation. Inspired by the relentless resistance of the soldiers and the tireless efforts of the young mistress, Jiang Zhiyi, and the children of the chancellor, many able-bodied men from the city voluntarily donned the armor of fallen soldiers, picked up weapons, and joined the fight at the western gate.

The gates were breached time and again, only to be stubbornly defended each time. The night stretched endlessly.

In the darkest hour before dawn, the camp remained brightly lit. The sounds of war drums, horns, and battle cries echoed from the city walls, piercing the air. Jiang Zhiyi sat at the desk inside her tent, spreading out a sheet of rice paper and dipping her brush into ink. She began to write something when suddenly Sanqi entered.

“Young Mistress,” Sanqi bowed solemnly, his expression grave. “Sanqi and one hundred brothers of the Xuan Ce Army request permission to go to battle!”

Jiang Zhiyi’s brush trembled, and she looked up.

“If we continue to passively defend within the city, Xingyang can hold out for at most another half-hour. If I lead my brothers in a charge to clear out this wave of enemies, we might buy Xingyang another half-day of survival.”

Jiang Zhiyi slowly rose from her seat. “If Xingyang gains this half-day of survival, what about you?”

“We will have no regrets even in death!”

Jiang Zhiyi turned her head away, swallowing hard. “I do not agree.”

“Young Mistress, if the city falls and street fighting begins, our horses will be useless. We’ll be forced into close combat, unable to kill many enemies before being captured. If reinforcements arrive in half a day but the city falls before dawn, all these days of sacrifice will have been in vain. Every moment we can hold out is precious—”

“I said, I do not agree!” Jiang Zhiyi interrupted. “Before leaving, the Young General said my orders are to be treated as his. Are you disobeying military orders?”

Sanqi’s lips curved faintly. “I knew you’d say that, Young Mistress. But have you forgotten? The Young General’s first order was to escort you safely back to the capital. That order overrides everything.”

Tears welled up in Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes as she steadied herself on the desk. “You are people I brought here. We must all return to the capital together…”

“Young Mistress, these days, everyone has seen you take charge, becoming the backbone for all of us. In our hearts, you are already our Young Mistress. We all want to follow you to Chang’an, to celebrate your wedding with the Young General. But war spares no one. Sacrifices must be made. We are no different from the soldiers of Xingyang who have already given their lives. Our lives are no more precious than theirs. We are not afraid of sacrifice!”

“We are not afraid of sacrifice!” a chorus of voices shouted from outside the tent.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyelashes trembled as she stepped out, tears overflowing. She saw one hundred Xuan Ce soldiers clad in black armor, swords in hand, lined up and ready to march.

“How can you do this…?” Her voice broke as tears streamed down her face. She turned her head away. “How can you make me… give the order to send you all to your deaths?”

Sanqi stepped in front of the one hundred soldiers, turning to face her with a smile. “Young Mistress, we are not just here to protect you. If Xingyang falls, not only will you fall into enemy hands, but when more of the Xuan Ce Army arrives, there will be even more bloodshed. To watch you captured, to see our comrades die defending a city we couldn’t hold—it would be unbearable even in death. Better to charge out now and take down as many enemies as we can before we go!”

Through tear-filled eyes, Jiang Zhiyi asked, “Is there truly no other way…?”

“No other way. Only a desperate fight remains!” Sanqi cupped his fist. “Young Mistress, only the cavalry of the Xuan Ce Army can accomplish this. Time waits for no one. Please give the order!”

“Please, Young Mistress, give the order!”

With blurred vision, Jiang Zhiyi gazed at the determined faces before her. Closing her eyes to blink away tears, she took a deep breath and spoke, each word heavy with effort: “I hereby order you… to leave the city and face the enemy. Protect Xingyang at all costs…”

“Yes, Young Mistress!” The soldiers turned in unison, exiting the camp and mounting their horses.

Sanqi sat astride his horse, turning back to flash her a final smile, his dimples visible even in the firelight.

Watching his youthful face, Jiang Zhiyi suddenly remembered the first time she met him—

A sixteen-year-old boy, appearing when her relationship with their Young General was at its worst and she had repeatedly tried to flee Hexi. On a bustling street in Guzang, he had smiled at her with those same dimples, saying, “My name is Sanqi, like the number twenty-one. I am the Young General’s personal guard assigned to you. Wherever you go, I follow!”

Hot tears spilled once more. Jiang Zhiyi stumbled forward, looking up at Sanqi and the soldiers behind him. “Even if there’s only the slimmest chance of survival, you must fight for it with all your might. I will wait here for your triumphant return!”

“Yes, Young Mistress!”

They turned their horses and galloped toward the western gate, disappearing into the pre-dawn darkness.

Jiang Zhiyi stood motionless at the camp entrance, listening to the waves of battle cries from the city gates and watching the horizon gradually lighten. As the clouds parted and the sun rose, clean morning light bathed the earth, heralding a new day.

A messenger came with good news: the enemy had temporarily retreated.

But she never saw them return.

As daylight brightened, Jingzhe entered the tent to find Jiang Zhiyi sitting expressionlessly at the desk, wiping the sleeve-mounted crossbow that Yuan Ce had given her with a cloth. Watching her methodically load arrows into the quiver, click the mechanism into firing position, Jingzhe’s brow furrowed. “Young Mistress, what are you doing…?”

Jiang Zhiyi slipped the crossbow into her sleeve and gave a weary smile. “I’m going to the city walls to see them off… I should bring a weapon for protection.”

Jingzhe’s face softened with pity. “I’ll accompany you.”

Jiang Zhiyi nodded, leaning on Jingzhe as they left the camp without a carriage, following the path the Xuan Ce Army had taken.

Along the streets, anxious citizens peered out of their homes, watching the city’s movements.

An official collapsed by the roadside, exhausted, pouring water into his parched throat only to find his flask empty.

Soldiers carried their bleeding comrades down from the walls, shouting for medics as they rushed toward the camp.

Doctors ran with their medical kits, their hats slipping off unnoticed.

No one paid attention to the young mistress walking through the smoke-filled streets.

She seemed no longer a noblewoman, just another insignificant figure among the countless suffering souls.

“Sister, the city gates are dangerous!” a little girl called out from her doorway.

Jiang Zhiyi paused, turning her head. “There’s a temporary ceasefire. I’m just going to see my loved ones.”

“Oh, do you have family fighting there?”

“Yes, they are the bravest warriors in the world.” Jiang Zhiyi gazed at the city walls and continued walking.

At the gates, the few remaining soldiers, prisoners from the jail, and volunteers from the city sat on the ground, exhausted, leaning against each other for support.

Pei Zisong and Cao Chen were discussing something, while Pei Xueqing tended to lightly wounded soldiers.

Seeing her approach, they moved to greet her.

Jiang Zhiyi waved them off, signaling for them to continue their tasks. Step by step, she climbed the stairs to the city tower.

Below the walls lay a sea of corpses, a hellish scene filled with soldiers and horses in different uniforms.

Standing on the tower, Jiang Zhiyi leaned against the railing, gazing far into the battlefield. She could barely distinguish where the Xuan Ce Army was.

One hundred men on this vast battlefield were so, so small—like stars scattered across the galaxy.

Jiang Zhiyi searched painstakingly, trembling as she raised her finger. “One.”

Jingzhe followed her gaze, spotting a Xuan Ce soldier lying in a pool of blood.

Jiang Zhiyi continued searching, pointing one by one. “Two, three, four…”

By the time she reached seventeen, Jingzhe gently tugged her arm. “Young Mistress, stop counting…”

“I must count…” Jiang Zhiyi clung stubbornly to the railing, continuing until she reached fifty-one. Finally unable to go on, she sank to the ground, covering her face as silent sobs wracked her body.

Inside the city tower was the command post. Jiang Zhiyi stayed there, sharing coarse food and soup with the deputy generals leading the battle.

Jingzhe urged her to return to the camp for safety, but Jiang Zhiyi shook her head. When the city fell, it wouldn’t matter whether she was on the walls or in the city. If the enemy broke in, no one would survive to inform her. She would be captured without knowing the city’s fate.

The sun climbed higher, and soon it was the promised half-day later.

At exactly nine o’clock, the steady rhythm of marching feet vibrated beneath their feet. On the distant horizon, a green banner fluttered in the wind as the rebel army advanced in a massive line, charging toward the gates once more.

Above and below the gates, soldiers sprang into action. The archers had exhausted their arrows and now wielded the swords of their fallen comrades, cornered and desperate.

Jiang Zhiyi sat inside the tower, closing her eyes as the war drums thundered and battle cries erupted anew.

This time, every sound was close—death was close.

Soldiers fell one by one. Above, fierce hand-to-hand combat raged; below, the battering ram pounded against the gates, threatening to shatter the city.

Amidst the deafening chaos, Jiang Zhiyi felt an unparalleled calm.

The shouts defending the gates grew fainter. At some point, she heard the sound of a sword being drawn. Opening her eyes, she saw enemy soldiers climbing the breach in the wall. Jingzhe stood guard, her sword raised.

“Jingzhe, go join the fight on the walls,” Jiang Zhiyi said softly.

“My Lady, I must stay by your side to protect you!”

“But when the enemy reaches us, staying by my side will only mean your death in vain…”

Jingzhe glanced at the tower. Perched higher than the walls, it was still safe—for now. To keep the enemy out, she would need to leave.

“My Lady, I’ll go fight!” Jingzhe drew her sword and stepped out.

“Alright.” Jiang Zhiyi watched her go, then retrieved the crossbow from her sleeve and stood up.

The enemy soldiers scaling the walls were gradually cut down by Jingzhe and the remaining defenders. No new enemies climbed up.

This meant the enemy had found a more convenient route than the walls.

The gates were about to break.

Jiang Zhiyi stepped out of the tower, standing by the red railing, facing the surging mass of enemy soldiers below. Slowly, she raised the crossbow in her hand, aiming its tip at her own neck.

The words “life and death together” sounded beautiful when spoken, like a distant vow. No one truly imagined the face of death at the moment of pledging.

Perhaps when death loomed, the one who made the vow would forget those words entirely.

But now, she saw death clearly. She saw it—and still chose to rush toward it without hesitation.

She would not fall into enemy hands.

She would not become a weakness or burden for her beloved, whose path to victory must remain unobstructed.

She would not let him and his Xuan Ce Army surrender their weapons for her sake.

Steadying the crossbow, Jiang Zhiyi closed her eyes against the brilliant sun. She felt the wind lift her hair and heard the final, mournful cries of the people below.

Suddenly, a hoarse male voice rang out from the walls: “Reinforcements are here—! Hold on, reinforcements are here—!”

Jiang Zhiyi’s heart jolted. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked up.

On the distant horizon, a tide of black-clad cavalry surged forward like a wave. Crimson banners flapped fiercely in the wind. At the forefront of the army, a man wielding a long spear charged ahead, unstoppable.

Trembling, Jiang Zhiyi gripped the railing, tears streaming down her face in the blazing sunlight.