Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Great Battle Approaches

“That’s not it!” At Chen Xuanli’s question, Fan Zhicheng was startled, quickly shaking his head in denial. Forcing himself to explain, he said, “Tongguan must be reinforced, but the timing for the Grand General to lead the main army into the city must be grasped precisely!”

“Hm, I understand this matter. Say no more, lest it fall on the wrong ears!” Chen Xuanli cut him off, snapping his horsewhip. With a shout, “Hyah!” he spurred his horse and galloped off.

Fan Zhicheng and Chen Xuanli’s personal guards immediately urged their mounts to follow.

———

After executing Bian Lingcheng in public, once again raising the blade to assert his authority and win the hearts of the men, Yang Xi found his spirits lifted by the generals’ respect.

Yet he knew the situation had not truly changed. The odds still favored the rebels, leaving his own army at a disadvantage. To turn the tide, he would need either a decisive blow to the enemy, annihilating large numbers of their fighting force, or for the reinforcements to arrive swiftly. Otherwise, the fundamental situation would not shift. The previous ambushes and the execution of Bian Lingcheng had served only to boost morale and strengthen his own prestige, not to solve the problem of defending Tongguan at its root.

Annihilating vast numbers of enemy troops might be possible, but doing so would deplete his own forces as well. Even if his losses were proportionally much less than the rebels’, they would still be difficult to bear. Truly reversing the situation depended on the timely arrival of reinforcements to bolster the defense. With enough troops, relying on the natural advantages of Tongguan and its fortifications, they should be able to keep the rebels at bay with ease. Yang Xi ardently hoped the reinforcements would arrive soon, sparing Tongguan from falling into rebel hands.

Once more, he sent a letter of urgent appeal through the courier station, demanding that the court dispatch reinforcements without delay—more and faster—and pressed Chen Xuanli to hasten his march and reach Tongguan as soon as possible. He resolved to send such urgent requests every two hours, shifting the dilemma onto Emperor Li Longji in Chang’an and his own father, the Prime Minister Yang Guozhong.

The rebels had suffered moderate losses in a recent fire attack and retreated several miles, but Yang Xi knew this was only temporary. As the mountain blaze died down, the rebels would inevitably attack again. Setting another fire was unlikely; only one area to the east was thick with vegetation, the rest too sparse to burn. Even if they piled up dry grass, it would soon be consumed, and any new fire could spread to their own defenses, damaging Han Tongguan, the Twelve Linked Fortresses, or New Tongguan.

It was certain the rebels would attack again, either by day or at dusk—a fierce battle was inevitable.

His prediction proved true. As Yang Xi hid in the gate tower, eating a bowl of mung bean soup brought by a soldier to ward off the summer heat, a messenger rushed back with urgent news: the rebels were advancing once more!

“Commander Yang! The rebels are on the move again, heading for Tongguan!”

“Prepare for battle immediately!” Yang Xi, startled, set down his bowl and chopsticks, barking orders for everyone to ready themselves.

The rebels moved swiftly; there was still more than an hour before nightfall. It seemed they intended to attack under cover of darkness.

Yang Xi took his place atop the eastern gate tower, gazing southeast.

At this time, with no pollution or haze, the blazing sun provided perfect visibility; one could see for dozens of miles. Yet, seeing was not the same as seeing clearly. The size and disposition of the rebel forces could not be made out in detail, only as a vague mass.

He desperately wished for a telescope—something to bring the distant movements into sharp focus from atop the city wall.

As a special forces soldier, he was skilled and resourceful enough to assemble a simple, functional telescope if he had the materials. During a recent break, he’d already sent Yang Zheng into the city to search for crystal or glass, anything transparent, and have it ground to the right curvature. He intended to assemble a workable telescope himself, though he doubted it would be possible.

Now, with most of Tongguan’s civilians fled and only soldiers remaining, finding crystal or glass was proving nearly impossible. Glass was rare and valuable in these times, and what little existed was of poor quality. Crystal, with similar transparency, was somewhat more attainable, but with only soldiers left, searching quickly was difficult. So far, there had been no success.

Unable to obtain a telescope, Yang Xi had to rely on his own eyes and the reports from scouts and lookouts to analyze and judge the enemy’s movements.

From the intelligence gathered, he concluded that a fierce battle beneath Han Tongguan would erupt within half an hour.

What he now hoped for was that Pang Zhong and Li Fude, leading their two thousand men, could hold Han Tongguan for as long as possible—at the very least until after nightfall. Darkness would be a disadvantage for both sides, but Pang Zhong’s men were intimately familiar with the area, far more so than the rebels. In some ways, the obscurity of night would benefit the defenders.

If they could hold out until nightfall, the rebels would almost certainly be unable to attack Sui Tongguan—the fortress where he now stood—before dawn. The enemy’s assault would be delayed at least a night, perhaps longer.

However, Yang Xi would not let all two thousand men perish on Han Tongguan’s walls. After a fierce struggle with the attackers, he planned to withdraw them before their losses became too great, lest the defense of Sui Tongguan be undermined and the army’s morale shattered.

If Han Tongguan were taken by storm and its defenders all killed, the blow to the morale of the garrison at Tongguan would be devastating, possibly triggering panic. The small victories won that morning had rallied the troops and brought some cohesion; Yang Xi did not want to see that hard-won spirit squandered in a mass slaughter.

The Sui Tongguan fortress where he now stood was the most formidable stronghold among all the passes of Tongguan. The final stand would be made here, with all available troops. Han Tongguan, already in ruins, could serve only as an outpost—not the last line of defense.

Sui Tongguan was many times more defensible than the ruined Han Tongguan!

Yang Xi knew that he himself was not well-versed in commanding large-scale battles in an era of cold steel; further study and practice were needed. But in the present crisis, he understood the only thing that mattered was holding Tongguan at all costs, denying the rebels this gateway to Chang’an. Every arrangement he made would be focused on this goal.

Yang Xi’s orders were swiftly relayed by his soldiers to Pang Zhong and Li Fude.