Chapter Twenty-Three: The Bloody Battle of Tong Pass Begins

Unexpectedly, Yang Xi faced them and uttered such words, leaving Li Chengguang and Gao Shi stunned, their expressions full of surprise.

Li Chengguang certainly knew Yang Xi. He was aware that Yang Xi was merely a pampered young lord, relying on the power of Yang Guozhong, indulging in food and drink, often committing reckless or contemptible acts. In fact, all of Yang Guozhong’s sons were like this: lacking true talent or learning, they attained high positions or acted with impunity in the court solely because of their father’s influence.

But now, to hear Yang Guozhong’s youngest son declare the heroic oath, “As long as the city stands, so do its people; if the city falls, so do its people,” and to see the authority displayed as Yang Xi spoke—none would doubt the sincerity of his words, nor suspect them to be mere bravado or empty threats.

Li Chengguang was a seasoned warrior, hardened by countless battles, having climbed out from heaps of the dead time and again. He had encountered all kinds of people, and could often discern their true nature from their bearing—rarely misjudging. Yet now, Yang Xi seemed utterly transformed from the man he once knew, as if his very soul had changed. The intimidating presence Yang Xi exuded could only come from someone who had faced mortal danger on the battlefield.

Moreover, Yang Xi acted with extraordinary decisiveness and boldness—daring to repeatedly petition the Emperor to lead troops in relief of Tongguan, and then rushing three thousand men three hundred miles overnight to reach the city. How many generals could achieve such speed? Upon arrival, Yang Xi had slain Huoba Guiren with a single sword stroke to prevent him from seizing Geshu Han, earning both awe and fear.

The Yang Xi before him was nothing like the one he had previously known, nor did he resemble Yang Guozhong’s son at all!

Perhaps, he thought, Yang Xi had always been hiding his true self, only revealing his character at this critical moment. No wonder Emperor Li Longji and Yang Guozhong entrusted him with command to relieve Tongguan.

Gao Shi, on the other hand, had never met Yang Xi, nor even heard his name. Otherwise, he would have recognized him when he entered Chang’an to deliver Geshu Han’s message, and drank alone in frustration. Lacking prior acquaintance, he felt no great discord in his heart.

Perhaps it was the first impression at work, but Gao Shi felt a certain affinity for Yang Xi, more so than the other generals, and his approval grew as he listened to Yang Xi's words. Stirred by a surge of heroic spirit, he responded first, “Rest assured, Commander Yang! I will do my utmost to lead the troops and hold the east gate! As long as the city stands, so do its people; if the city falls, so do its people!”

Li Chengguang quickly recovered and shouted his assent alongside Gao Shi.

Yet, in his heart, he still felt uneasy—were his preconceived notions playing tricks on him?

Yang Xi knew the two generals before him must harbor many doubts, but he cared little to explain, and instead began to survey the surrounding terrain.

After a brief observation inside and outside the city, Yang Xi made some simple arrangements.

The army had crossbowmen, equipped with large ballistae—powerful weapons capable of striking the enemy from afar. Fired from the height of Tongguan’s walls, their range would certainly exceed that of the attackers below.

Yang Xi set up a layered defense: as the rebel army approached within three hundred paces—roughly four to five hundred meters—the ballistae would begin firing. Once the rebels entered the range of the various crossbows, the powerful crossbows would shoot, inflicting early casualties. As the enemy drew closer, archers would commence firing, while the crossbowmen continued to target the rear ranks, maximizing the damage to the rebels.

In the era of cold weapons, crossbows and bows were the best options for combat. Their long-range lethality, especially when fired in dense volleys, could devastate advancing forces—particularly in the perilous terrain before Tongguan. Yang Xi believed that if Tongguan had sufficient troops and arrows, no matter how the rebels attacked, the city would not fall.

Another crucial point: it was the height of summer, and soldiers could not wear thick armor for protection against arrows, lest they suffocate. Lacking proper defense, arrows would be even deadlier than in winter. He would take full advantage of the abundance of arrows in Tongguan, arranging for the maximum possible casualties among the rebels during the assault.

Seeing Yang Xi make these arrangements without hesitation—even though they themselves had given similar orders—Li Chengguang and Gao Shi were a little surprised. It seemed Yang Xi was not merely putting on a show; he possessed some military acumen after all, and their impression of him shifted yet again.

Such authority, composure, and decisiveness—how could a mere pampered youth possess these qualities? Why did Yang Xi behave so? They could not fathom it, nor did they have time to figure it out. All they could do now was obey.

Yang Xi was unaware of the thoughts of these two main generals, but he knew they must be doubtful. He offered no explanations, simply gesturing for them to attend to their duties while he went up to the city gate tower to further survey the terrain. As Li Chengguang and Gao Shi departed, Yang Xi gave orders: should Pang Zhong and Li Fude’s units retreat, the city gates must be opened to let them in, and if the situation was dire, men should be sent to assist.

Now was the best time to establish his personal authority and restore morale. He could not allow anything that would sap the spirit of the troops, lest a situation arise that could not be controlled, causing the remnants in Tongguan to panic and collapse without a fight.

Pang Zhong, who had begun to obey him, and Li Fude, his father’s trusted man, were not to be abandoned. He would ensure their safe return, knowing they would be invaluable later.

Yang Xi understood that using small detachments to harass the rebels could only slow their advance, not inflict serious losses. Even if all Tongguan’s troops were sent out to ambush, they could not annihilate the rebel army. Besides, the terrain outside Tongguan was too narrow and treacherous for ambushes—it was only suitable for defense. As long as Li Fude and Pang Zhong accomplished their mission and delayed the rebel assault, that would suffice.

Surveying the surroundings, Yang Xi concluded that the most critical position was the Sui Tongguan city where he now stood. Here would be the main battleground to halt the rebels—he must gather all strength to defend this city built by the Sui dynasty!

By Yang Xi’s estimate, if he could hold Tongguan for two days and one night, Chen Xuanli’s army would surely arrive.

He knew the reinforcements would not match the speed of his three thousand troops, who had been assembled and ready. The newly recruited forces needed to be gathered, organized, and then set out; they could not alternate mounts for rapid travel. Arriving in two days would be impressive.

Within Tongguan city, the great fire in Meng Gou burned fiercely, growing ever larger. Occasionally, the crackling of burning fat could be heard. Yang Xi silently hoped that the corpses piled within the forbidden ditch would soon be incinerated, restoring the natural barrier, or else the south gate might become the rebels' most likely breach.

After Li Chengguang and Gao Shi had departed, Yang Xi led Yang Dong, Yang Zheng, and several trusted soldiers up the city gate tower, gazing toward Han Tongguan.

Ever since he had volunteered for the expedition in court and received approval from the Emperor and his father, Yang Guozhong, finally leading his troops through day and night to Tongguan, and swiftly executing Huoba Guiren, Yang Xi noticed that Yang Dong and Yang Zheng—household guards of considerable standing—had changed their attitude toward him entirely. Whether Yang Dong, the chief guard of the Duke of Wei’s residence, or Yang Zheng, his personal attendant, their demeanor was utterly transformed. The respect and even admiration in their eyes was palpable—so different from the days when he first awoke, or when his mother allowed him to drink alone at the inn. No trace of insincere compliance remained.

He was confident that from now on, whatever he commanded them to do, they would not dare to disobey or shirk, but would obey without hesitation.

“Yang Dong, Yang Zheng, if the rebels storm the city walls, you will follow me onto the ramparts to fight. We must not let them breach Tongguan!” Yang Xi ordered in a tone that was cold and full of authority.

“Yes, Fourth Young Master!” The aura Yang Xi unconsciously projected made Yang Dong and Yang Zheng shiver, instinctively responding.

Yang Dong, however, was experienced, having served Yang Guozhong through many crises. Though Yang Xi’s presence was oppressive, he mustered his courage and said, “Fourth Young Master, before departure, the Master instructed us repeatedly to ensure your safety no matter what. I earnestly beg you not to join the battle personally. If Tongguan falls, I will lead the brothers to protect you and withdraw at once. The Master will have arranged support midway. Please, do not hold out here, and certainly do not fight on the walls yourself!”

Upon hearing Yang Dong’s plea, Yang Xi turned sharply, glaring fiercely at him. As Yang Dong felt another chill, Yang Xi spoke: “Yang Dong, remember, you are my chief guard. At all times you must obey my commands! I have pledged before the Emperor and my father to defend Tongguan at all costs! Remember: as long as the city stands, so do its people; if the city falls, so do its people! If the city is breached, none of us will leave alive—including me. We must fight to the death for our country!”

Yang Dong felt a coldness throughout his body, caused by Yang Xi’s words and murderous gaze. He dared not say another word, only nodding in assent.

Yang Xi was pleased with Yang Dong’s reaction, though he wondered why his intimidation had not worked days before—perhaps, he thought, he lacked the aura then, having never killed a man, and his guards still saw him as the idle Fourth Young Master. Today, as the commander of Tongguan and a slayer of a prince, he had finally won their submission.

This was a great thing.

With his aura established, Yang Xi’s martial spirit surged, and he even hoped the rebels would arrive soon so he could lead his troops into battle. In the days since his recovery, he had trained in archery and swordsmanship—not to fight personally, but to display his prowess if needed. As danger approached, his fighting spirit grew. He understood that the commander’s courage could have incalculable effects at critical moments; he would certainly ascend the ramparts to fight in person.

As Yang Xi silently gazed into the distance, lost in thought, shouts and the sound of arrows whistling suddenly rose from several miles east of Tongguan. The cries of men and horses, punctuated by screams, reached his ears.

“The bloody battle of Tongguan has begun,” Yang Xi murmured. He knew this was the contingency he had arranged—the encounter between Li Fude’s detachment and the rebel army.

The battle had begun.