Chapter Eleven: The Warm-up Match

On the vast, snow-covered plains more than twenty miles southeast of Bogulü City, Chen Ying watched the signal smoke rising from the northwest, his heart constricting with agony. A single column of smoke signaled the death of an entire squad—ten soldiers of the Tang army.

To a warlord vying for supremacy, a mere squad of soldiers was insignificant. If necessary, one could sacrifice not just one squad, but ten, a hundred, or even a thousand without hesitation. However, Chen Ying was neither a politician nor a power-hungry hero; he could not remain indifferent.

"Du Shanguo!"
"I am here, sir!"
"Record this: In the Battle of Bogulü, the following soldiers of the Right Guard who were the first to scale the walls have fallen: Niu Jieshi, Du Shuangxi, Xun Erniu, Guo Liuzi, Qian Dayou, Zhao Mingfu, Cui Dayong, Li Yanxu, Li Guangzong, and Chen Yu. Grant them five ranks of military merit, promote them three grades, and bestow upon them the pension of Renyong Captains."

Du Shanguo stopped his brush, looked up at Chen Ying, and gritted his teeth. "General Chen, this is against regulations!"

Niu Jieshi and the others were mere privates, and their squad leader held no formal rank. To promote a commoner three full grades—the equivalent in later eras of elevating a civilian to a mid-level administrative official—was an anomaly. If they had died in battle, promoting them one grade to Vice Captain of the Peirong was acceptable. But to promote them directly to Renyong Captains was an unprecedented breach of protocol.

"Hmph!" Chen Ying glared coldly at Du Shanguo with a look that seemed to devour men. "Do not be a busybody. If there are consequences, I, the Commander, will bear them."

"Military merit cannot be bestowed privately!" Du Shanguo closed the ledger and looked Chen Ying in the eye, refusing to yield. "I cannot obey this order!"

Chen Ying laughed in his rage. "Very well, very well indeed. When we launch our attack, you shall lead the suicide squad!"
"I shall obey, sir!"

Chen Ying stared at Du Shanguo in astonishment. He had clearly intended to use this as a pretext to get rid of a troublesome civil official, knowing that forcing him to the front lines would provide him with ammunition against him later. Chen Ying had never imagined that Du Shanguo would choose death over submission.

With no patience left for this dispute, and being perfectly capable of writing himself, Chen Ying snatched the brush and paper and made the entries himself.

Once finished, Wei Wenzhong reported, "General Chen, over eight thousand Turks have left Bogulü City. Shall we move out?"
Chen Ying shook his head. "It is too early. Order the scouts to monitor the Turks’ movements closely. Report back every quarter-hour without fail."

...

At Red Mountain Fort, as the wall of corpses reached four feet in height, Luo Shixin suddenly spotted the signal smoke rising in the south. The use of beacon towers to signal with smoke was a military tradition in China spanning thousands of years. There were three types: a single column, a double column, and a colored column. The single column, known as the "peace smoke," was used to report safety to the rear, while double columns served as a warning. When Wang Wei served as an envoy, it was the peace smoke he saw, inspiring his famous lines, "The lone smoke of the desert rises straight, the long river reflects the setting sun."

Because Chen Ying’s sleds were far too small compared to fortress-style beacon towers and possessed no defensive capabilities, it would have been a waste of resources to build them.

Chen Ying had long ago instructed Luo Shixin: the moment smoke rose, it meant a large force of Turks was attacking. Although the Turks had wiped out the Tang scouts beneath Bogulü City, the scouts Luo Shixin had deployed were more than just a few riders. As the smoke ascended, scouts were already closing in to observe.

Before long, a scout arrived, swaying in his saddle with several arrows protruding from his back. "General Luo, a massive force of Turkic cavalry is attacking from the south! At least seven or eight thousand riders!"

"Heh!" Luo Shixin laughed dismissively. "They arrive quickly. Since the Turks are so eager to die and be reincarnated, I shall certainly oblige them."

The soldiers erupted in laughter, instantly dispelling the tense atmosphere. Yet, no one noticed the flicker of worry that Luo Shixin could not entirely hide in his eyes.

A dull thundering of hooves was already rolling in from the south, vibrating through the earth like rolling thunder. Judging by the scale, the enemy numbers likely exceeded eight thousand—perhaps even ten thousand. With only his two thousand men, could he hold Red Mountain Fort?

Duan Zhigan gripped his saber. He had eaten the sovereign’s grain and would be loyal to the sovereign’s affairs; if the fort fell, he would use this hot blood to repay the favor and earn a name for eternal loyalty.

Zhang Shigui spoke up. "Cavalry must not be kept inside the fort. Even if Red Mountain Fort were large enough, cavalry should be deployed outside!"
Duan Zhigan added, "I am no coward!"
Luo Shixin said, "General Duan, the fate of Red Mountain Fort rests with you."

The Tang soldiers at Red Mountain Fort split into two groups before the Turks arrived. The light and heavy wounded of the Yue Cavalry, unable to be moved, remained in the fort with Duan Zhigan, who was tasked with its defense. Duan Zhigan divided his three infantry regiments into three parts: one guarding the wall of corpses outside the fort, one serving as a mobile reserve, and the last guarding the interior.

Just as Duan Zhigan climbed the arrow tower on the wall, the Turks arrived.

About five hundred paces from Red Mountain Fort, the Turks halted to conserve their horses' strength. As Silifushe looked at the Tang cavalry in the field and the infantry on the fort walls, a wave of disappointment washed over him. The number of Tang cavalry in the open was clear at a glance, and the total force, including those inside and outside the fort, barely reached a thousand.

Perhaps this was the only relief force the Tang court could muster. The Tang had suffered a massive defeat at Qianshuiyuan at the hands of Xue Ju, losing nearly a hundred thousand men; they could not possibly have recovered in such a short time.

Silifushe was deeply dissatisfied with the conservatism of his brother, Shibi Khan Duojishi. With the Tang strength so weak, they should strike with one blow, march into Chang'an, and annihilate them. Silifushe greatly admired the prosperity of Chang'an and craved the delicate, enchanting Han women, to say nothing of the silk and porcelain they produced.

The Guanzhong region held precious resources and endless beauties waiting for him to "collect," yet Duojishi had repeatedly forbidden the Turks from engaging the Tang directly. Silifushe could not understand what there was to fear from the cowardly Tang.

Seeing that the Turks did not attack immediately, Duan Zhigan felt a momentary relief. Delaying the attack was for the best; every moment bought was another moment of hope for the Tang.

However, when Silifushe saw the true nature of the fort’s walls—made of ice and corpses—he flew into a rage. To dare use the bodies of Turkic warriors to build a wall was truly abominable.

In truth, Silifushe never considered that compared to the Tang wall of corpses, the Turks had committed far worse atrocities every time they invaded Tang territory.

"May the Sky Wolf God protect us!" Silifushe slashed his scimitar through the air. Over two thousand Turkic cavalry let out wild, shrill cries and charged toward Red Mountain Fort. They had no siege equipment, not even scaling ladders; they simply charged on horseback.

Duan Zhigan had never fought them before and had not expected the Turks to be so reckless. However, he did not know that this was the Turks' most common siege tactic. Many Han-defended cities had been frightened into surrender by such charges, which posed no real threat to the walls.

But this time, Silifushe had miscalculated. Others might have been intimidated, but Duan Zhigan was not.

As they reached the four-foot-high wall of corpses, Silifushe whistled, and the Turkic cavalry drew their composite bows, nocking light arrows and showering the ramparts. The composite bows were light and short, with a draw weight of only forty or fifty pounds. Even at such a range, the arrows lacked true lethality, but with two thousand men firing simultaneously, the cloud of arrows was an intimidating sight indeed.