Chapter 23: Fierce Battle

In the western part of Wangmai, the city of Luoshui sat at the center. As Ye Linhui fought a dazzling battle, the southern front saw Duan Xingyun and Feng Xiaoyang on the verge of clashing—swords drawn, ready for war. Meanwhile, on the northern front, Zi Jie watched a letter of challenge before him, a faint, sardonic smile on his lips.

“Hmph. General Yan Wanzheng... what sort of game is this? Coming north and still sending me a formal challenge? Proclaiming their force of thirty thousand—could it be they have learned we have only ten thousand at Hengguan? My master routed your heavy cavalry; why should I not win a victory against overwhelming odds?”

As for Duan Xingyun, only he knew how ill-suited he was for the coming battle. A pampered scion, he had only a smattering of martial skills and had never seriously read the art of war. Commanding fifty thousand troops was beyond him; even leading thirty thousand would be a struggle. If not for his father, Duan Yaoqi, being the Grand Marshal of Xia, Duan Xingyun’s talents would have made him fit for little more than a minor command, perhaps leading ten thousand as a deputy at best—never given charge of fifty thousand men outright.

General Duan Yaoqi himself could not have foreseen this predicament. Originally, he had merely wanted his son to follow Xiao Ming to the front, earn a little merit, and be safe. Who could have guessed he would now face the full might of fifty thousand Yan soldiers alone? What he could never have known was that Duan Xingyun had already colluded with the Yan, and even if he had the ability to defeat Feng Xiaoyang, he would never truly try.

As both Duan and Feng’s armies prepared for battle, northern Snowshade King Zi Jie was also ready for an audacious assault against superior numbers.

Soon, both fronts saw decisive action, and news spread swiftly across all of Wangmai.

In the south, Duan Xingyun, through blunder or perhaps deliberate sabotage, suffered a crushing defeat at Feng Xiaoyang’s hands. His fifty thousand were routed, with over thirty thousand casualties, and of the survivors—wounded included—less than twenty-five thousand were left. Duan Xingyun led the remnants in flight south to Pengzhou, with Feng Xiaoyang’s forces in relentless pursuit.

In the north, where the forests were thick with pines, the armies built their camps from local wood. Zi Jie took advantage of the day’s wind, sending five thousand flaming arrows into Yan General Wanzheng’s ranks, shattering their ambitions. Then, clad in purple armor, the Snowshade King mounted his steed, brandished his saber, and led a squad of fewer than fifty men through the flames, striking from the flank and slaying Wanzheng himself. Thus, outnumbered ten thousand to thirty thousand, he achieved a resounding victory in the mountains.

This battle transformed Zi Jie from an obscure prince into a commander of renown, and marked the beginning of the famed “Snowshade King’s Western Campaign” that would echo through history.

With north, center, and south battlefields all ablaze, the war between Wang and Yan entered a fever pitch.

When Ye Linhui received news of Zi Jie’s triumph, he immediately resolved to send thirty thousand reinforcements north. The court’s original order for Zi Jie to hold Hengguan with ten thousand was only a precaution against a possible Yan incursion—but now that the threat was real, more troops were urgently needed.

Xiao Ming was initially puzzled by this decision. “Marshal Ye, should such matters not be reported to the Snow Emperor?”

Ye Linhui smiled and replied, “Marshal Xiao, in matters of war, the general acts at his own discretion, not waiting for the sovereign’s command.”

Xiao Ming was momentarily stunned by this, but said nothing more and left Ye Linhui’s command tent.

Across the river, the Yan army, continually reinforced through Demongate Valley, still fielded sixty thousand battle-ready troops before Luoshui City. Counting the lightly wounded able to fight, their numbers might have exceeded eighty thousand.

Zi Jie, on the other hand, now received two waves of reinforcements—from Ye Linhui and from the capital—bringing his forces to over fifty thousand. With such numbers, holding Hengguan was no longer a concern; there was no need to risk a reckless attack.

In the south, after more than ten days of retreat, Duan Xingyun led his battered force to Pengzhou. Peng Wanli, the city’s commander, arranged for Duan’s troops to garrison there, while he himself hoisted the banner to halt the Yan’s southern advance. East of Pengzhou lay Liushan—should the Yan break through Pengzhou and cross Liushan, nothing but open plains would stand between them and Starshine City.

Peng Wanli recalled the warning from Lei Ting not long before, urging him to prepare for war—though he had known nothing of the situation then, he followed Lei’s instructions and put the army on alert, sending scouts far ahead to monitor the front. Thus, he was able to dispatch troops in time to rescue Duan Xingyun.

After failing to catch Duan, Feng Xiaoyang remained to await Yan reinforcements. Thus, an eighty-thousand-strong Yan force pressed toward Pengzhou. Upon hearing this, Xiao Ming could sit no longer; he entrusted Luoshui City entirely to Ye Linhui and led the Xia’s remaining thirty thousand battle-ready troops on a forced march to reinforce Pengzhou. This, however, left the garrison of Luoshui City perilously thin.

Should Luoshui fall, the Yan could easily strike at any neighboring kingdom. With their backs to the river, as long as a force was left to hold the banks, they would not be easily flanked. Given Luoshui’s strategic importance, even Ye Linhui, brilliant as he was, dared not be complacent. Having already dispatched forces to support Zi Jie, he was left with only around fifty thousand; he urgently sent messengers to the capital, requesting twenty thousand more Ye-banner troops to reinforce Luoshui.

Meanwhile, even with Xiao Ming’s relentless march, moving thirty thousand men—along with supplies—would take nearly a month to reach Pengzhou.

Thus, for a month, Peng Wanli, the city’s original garrison, and Duan Xingyun’s battered remnants—fewer than forty thousand in all—would have to withstand the onslaught of eighty thousand Yan troops.

Nearly three months had passed since the outbreak of the Wang-Yan war. These Yan reinforcements were among the last to reach the front, delayed by the slow movement of siege engines. Now, with their forces combined, the threat to the city reached new heights.

Pengzhou, deep within Xia territory, had walls only eight meters high. Scaling ladders could easily reach this height, and the Yan were now fully equipped with siege weapons. Peng Wanli had prepared himself for death.

As expected, Feng Xiaoyang, once his camp was secure, launched a fierce assault two days later.

Clad in black armor, Feng Xiaoyang sat confidently astride his warhorse, watching as his soldiers, at his command, surged against Pengzhou. Countless stones whistled through the air at the walls; Peng Wanli ordered his men to withdraw from the parapets, but some boulders flew over and struck the defenders below. Though casualties were not high, the damage to the walls was clear. Had the Yan had more ammunition, the defenders could hardly have held out even this long.

Next came wave after wave of warriors carrying scaling ladders, blades clenched between their teeth, eyes bloodshot, scrambling up the walls. Yet in the age of cold steel, defense was always easier than assault. The defenders, using bows, rolling logs, and rocks, repelled the Yan again and again. When repeated attacks failed, Feng Xiaoyang ordered a retreat.

From that day, his forces harassed the city with small raids every few days, and every five or six days launched a major assault. After more than twenty days, the walls were battered and crumbling.

The day after, as the sun rose, the Yan army bared its fangs once more. Feng Xiaoyang, black armor and long blade gleaming, stood at the front. After careful thought, Peng Wanli resolved to lead his troops out for a pitched battle—the walls could endure no more.

When Xiao Ming heard the distant clamor of battle, he immediately dispatched three thousand light-armored elites to race ahead. Yet even at their swiftest, they arrived a moment too late. As they reached the outskirts, Peng Wanli, seeing Xiao Ming approach, gave a smile of relief. He could no longer raise his arm as the enemy blade fell upon his neck, sending him spinning into darkness—never to awaken.

Xiao Ming’s forces soon repelled the Yan assault. Exhausted and lacking cavalry, the Yan posed little terror to the Xia, who easily drove them back.

Moreover, Xiao Ming had ample defensive equipment. For now, Feng Xiaoyang could no longer threaten Pengzhou, but with his numbers, Xiao Ming dared not counterattack, and the southern front settled into stalemate.

Yet, unbeknownst to the blood-soaked soldiers at the front, during this time, several high-ranking figures in Wangmai, prompted by Lin Yukong—the first to enter the land—had reached a secret agreement.

Since Duan Xingyun was already implicated, Lin Yukong first approached Emperor Xia Xun. Then he traveled to the Snow Kingdom to contact Chen Qingwei, one of the generals left to guard the capital.

Their pact was this: the Yan would seek no more Xia territory, but to keep up appearances for the Snow Kingdom, they would not withdraw Feng Xiaoyang’s force already inside Xia. Once Snow Kingdom was conquered, Xia would claim a third of the land; Lin Yukong would govern the rest with the aid of Duan Xingyun and Chen Qingwei.

Meanwhile, Zi Jie, after many battles, was in dire need of reinforcements. He had not intended to fight so many engagements, but the young Yan general Lin Yuluo, newly arrived at Hengguan, was eager to win glory and pursue unconventional tactics, leading to repeated clashes—which Zi Jie never shirked.

In each of these encounters, Zi Jie held the upper hand. Lin Yuluo was clever, but his tricks were quickly seen through and countered. However, Yan reinforcements always arrived swiftly, denying Zi Jie any chance for pursuit.

During this period, Zi Jie also scored a resounding victory due to Lin Yuluo’s own recklessness. One day, the Yan feigned a panicked retreat, making a show of their disarray to lure Zi Jie into pursuit. Just as he gave chase, the Yan released their secret weapon: fire-oxen.

The panic-stricken oxen, likely stolen from local farmers, had their tails set alight and sharp blades tied to their horns, charging wildly toward Zi Jie’s men. Zi Jie, startled at first, quickly ordered, “Light anything you can in front of us—create a wall of fire and raise dust! Quickly!”

The terrified oxen, seeing fire not only behind but ahead of them—and sensing the smoke and flames ahead were fiercer—turned and stampeded back into the Yan ranks, sowing havoc. The Yan, unable to see what the Snow Kingdom troops had done, were caught utterly off guard, and chaos reigned. After the battle, the Snowshade King sighed, “Alas, cattle and horses are our friends—those who betray their friends meet a sorry end.”

It was agreed that Chen Qingwei would request to join the reinforcements dispatched by the court to support Zi Jie at Hengguan, while Lin Yuluo would await Chen’s arrival—preparing for a coordinated attack from within and without.