Chapter 5: Blood Can Buoy the Oars

As the Chen cavalry drew ever closer, a glimmer of hope appeared on the face of Wang Xiu, who stood beside Wei Wuji. Yet almost immediately, his expression darkened once more. Wei Wuji, though terrified himself, noticed this and forced himself to offer comfort, saying, “Are you afraid, Sima Wang? At worst, it’s only death that awaits us. Who in this world can escape death? If we are buried here, the feng shui is not bad—twenty years later, we may rise again as heroes.”

“Of course, perhaps we might even win this battle!” Though even he did not believe these words, he could not help but harbor a sliver of hope.

“Master, it is not fear that troubles me,” Wang Xiu replied, shaking his head, worry etched across his face. “It is worry.”

“Worry?” Wei Wuji was puzzled. What was there left to worry about? Death here was all but certain.

“Master, look—how many cavalrymen has the Chen army brought?” Wang Xiu pointed to the distant riders galloping their way.

Wei Wuji followed his gaze. Upon closer inspection, he too revealed the same hopeful look Wang Xiu had shown moments before. He had not noticed earlier, but upon careful observation, he realized the grand commotion in the distance was caused by no more than a few hundred horsemen.

“Sima Wang, the Chen army numbers only two or three hundred cavalry. We have a real chance at victory!” Wei Wuji exclaimed, his delight plain to see.

“No, Master,” Wang Xiu replied gravely, his brow furrowed in deep concern. “We may be in trouble.”

“Why?” Wei Wuji asked, bewildered.

“Master, if the Chen vanguard is small in number and sees us drawn up in solid formation, they may lose their nerve and refuse to attack, harrying us instead while their main force approaches. When their full strength arrives, what should we do then?”

“Ah…” Only now did Wei Wuji grasp the root of Wang Xiu’s concern, and he had to admit it made sense.

“Then what is your suggestion?” Wei Wuji asked, rubbing his forehead in helplessness.

“In my opinion, we should feign weakness and lure the Chen cavalry into attacking. Only then will we have a chance at victory,” Wang Xiu said in a low voice.

Wei Wuji looked at the Chen army in the distance, their pace already slowing, and slapped his thigh in decision. “Very well, make the arrangements!” He had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited them.

“Yes, sir!” Wang Xiu answered, then hurried off to see to it.

Before long, chaos broke out within the ranks guarding the bridge. The formation began to unravel, and disorder threatened to spread throughout the army.

“This is absolute madness. May death’s door grant us new life,” Wei Wuji muttered under his breath.

Indeed, the Chen cavalry, having slowed their advance, observed the confusion in the enemy lines. The leading general shouted to his men, “Brothers, look! The Wei army trembles before our iron steeds. One charge and we’ll wipe them out!”

“Glory and riches await—just reach out and they are yours!”

“Charge! Kill them all!”

Roused by their general’s exhortations, the soldiers cheered, brandished their sabers, and looked upon the Wei with blazing fury.

At the same time, an officer beside the general tried to intercede, “General, wait, we should—” But before he could finish, the general, surrounded by his men, spurred his horse forward, disregarding all advice. It was not caution he lacked, but an overwhelming hunger for military merit. He had lingered too long at his current rank.

“This could be tricky. There are two thousand Wei troops ahead, after all,” the officer left behind murmured with a pained smile. Yet he too chased after the charge, reasoning that despite the enemy’s numbers, a cavalry charge might just shatter them.

…

“Master, the Chen cavalry is upon us!” Wang Xiu reported. Now, fate would decide their end.

“All hangs in the balance. Let us hope we live to see the sun rise once more,” Wei Wuji said quietly, his face a mask of resolve as he gazed at the sky. He was ready to throw himself into the river, should the worst come, for he feared pain more than death.

Wang Xiu bowed deeply to Wei Wuji before returning to the ranks—his place was here, amidst his men.

Under Wang Xiu’s orders, the Wei formation became a swirling chaos—disorderly yet not without method, ready to snap back into order at a command. Nevertheless, Wang Xiu’s palms were slick with cold sweat.

He was not alone. The Wei soldiers, too, wore looks of tight anxiety. As the Chen cavalry thundered closer, sweat broke out on their brows and their hands trembled on their weapons.

Noticing their unease, Wang Xiu cried out, “Hold fast, men! The enemy cavalry numbers scarcely more than two hundred, while we are three thousand strong. If each of us spat, we could drown them!”

His words brought some relief, and the men steadied themselves, but the approaching roar of hooves denied them any true comfort.

Nearer and nearer came the Chen cavalry—one hundred and fifty meters, one hundred, fifty…

Now Wang Xiu could see the bloodthirsty faces of the enemy riders. At the critical moment, under his command, the Wei ranks began to restore their formation.

Still, Wang Xiu held back the final order, letting the enemy draw closer—close enough to lose all hope of retreat.

When the distance shrank to less than thirty meters, Wang Xiu drew his sword and shouted, voice hoarse and wild, “Form up!”

The Wei soldiers, teetering on the edge of collapse, seized on this command as a lifeline. With a great shout of “Kill!” they raised their spears and broadswords, while the archers nocked their arrows and let fly.

Only now did the Chen cavalrymen realize that the sheep they had thought so meek had transformed into a wall of iron thorns.

But it was too late to stop. Already at full gallop, they could only grit their teeth, spur their horses faster, and throw themselves into the fray.

Both sides had placed themselves in mortal peril—now it was a test of courage, and only the bravest would survive.

At this moment, the Chen commander bellowed, “Brothers, kill them!”

Wei Wuji, mounted on his own horse, drew his sword and, with an expression the very opposite of the one he wore when ordering a retreat, roared, “For Great Wei, brothers! Kill!”

Wang Xiu too shouted, “Men, the young master fights and dies at our side—can we do less?”

“We are ready to die for our master!” the Wei soldiers cried, casting aside all fear, their blood surging with fury.

Thirty meters vanished in a flash beneath the pounding hooves. Save for a handful struck down by arrows, the Chen cavalry crashed into the Wei lines.

In an instant, blood and flesh flew, men and horses tumbled. Cavalrymen were speared from their saddles, bones snapping; spearmen were hurled aside, bodies mangled by the force of galloping horses; carnage unfolded everywhere.

Within the hundred-odd meters before Linghe Bridge, blood flowed in rivers and corpses littered the ground—a vision of hell, too dreadful to witness.

Wei Wuji closed his eyes, fearing that the sight might drive him mad, and dreading more than anything to see his side fail and to have his head taken by an onrushing foe.

The battle raged on, the clash of weapons and dying screams unceasing—a symphony of suffering and sin.

Time seemed to stretch into decades, or perhaps only an instant passed, before stillness returned to the world. Only then did Wei Wuji open his eyes.

Not a single Chen cavalryman stood on the field. Only their horses remained, neighing in misery, and the moans of wounded Wei soldiers drifted through the air.

“Master, we have won!” Wang Xiu stumbled to Wei Wuji’s horse and knelt, voice trembling.

“Have we… truly won?” Wei Wuji seemed to ask himself.

“Yes! We are victorious!” Wang Xiu exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement.

“Master, the Chen vanguard has been completely annihilated—not one escaped. Their horses are ours now…”

“We have won, we have won…” Wei Wuji murmured, as if in a dream.

At last, unable to contain his emotions, he burst into tears, threw back his head, and shouted, “We have won!”

Then, overcome, he toppled from his horse and lost consciousness.

Wang Xiu and the other officers, still reeling from the shock of survival, rushed to his side in alarm.

Only when they heard Wei Wuji, in his faint delirium, still murmuring, “We have won, we have won,” did they finally breathe a sigh of relief.