Chapter Forty-Three: The Tactics of Masses

Pang Zhong carefully observed the speed and frequency of the rebels’ attacks, using this information to determine the rate and frequency at which his soldiers should fire. When the number of attackers dwindled, he ordered his men to slow their shooting, allowing them a brief respite to recover their strength; only when the enemy surged in numbers did he command an increase in the rate of fire. At first, the rebels attacked in waves, probing the defenses, and Pang Zhong matched their tempo, adjusting his men’s shooting accordingly.

In this, Pang Zhong was more experienced than Li Fude, and his soldiers preserved their strength better than those under Li Fude’s command.

Standing atop the battered city gate tower, directing the battle, Pang Zhong and his personal guards were never idle; they strung their bows, nocked their arrows, and fired into the throngs of rebels storming below.

Pang Zhong was a battle-hardened general, a fierce warrior who had fought under Gao Xianguan before being stationed at Tong Pass. He held the rank of General of the Right Martial Guards, a position earned through merit and the hard-won victories of his own camp.

In past campaigns, he rarely tasted defeat, which brought him success and promotion. Yet after following Geshu Han out of Tong Pass, he suffered a devastating loss: his force of one hundred thousand was ambushed and scattered by the rebels, whose fire attacks overwhelmed them before they could properly organize. In the chaos of defeat, Pang Zhong escaped only with the protection of his guards and a small contingent.

This was a humiliation he would never forget.

Now, faced with the wild assault beneath the city walls, Pang Zhong vented his rage through the arrows he loosed, seeking to reclaim a shred of his honor.

His marksmanship was flawless—each arrow struck true, finding its mark among the enemy ranks. Those hit by him were either killed or grievously wounded.

“General, you’ve killed ten rebels and wounded eighteen!” a guard quietly reported after Pang Zhong emptied two quivers.

His personal tally was impressive, but driven by the fury he harbored within.

After exhausting the arrows in his quivers, Pang Zhong ceased shooting and watched the battle unfold.

As he observed, he discerned a pattern in the rebels’ attacks: each wave consisted of several hundred men, dispersed and arriving in successive waves. Pang Zhong immediately understood—they aimed to deplete his soldiers’ supply of arrows and exhaust the defenders, preparing the ground for a larger assault.

He swiftly made new arrangements.

Pang Zhong’s experience taught him that, against numerically superior foes, extraordinary measures were required for victory. In devising tactics, he surpassed Li Fude.

Yet there were many more seasoned than Li Fude; Cui Qianyou, who commanded the assault, was among them.

“Report to the deputy commander: the Tang army’s arrows are dense, our casualties are severe!”

On a hillside about two li from Tong Pass, Cui Qianyou watched the battle from horseback, commanding the vanguard. A soldier, his arm pierced and bleeding profusely, rode up to deliver the report.

Cui Qianyou gave no reply, only nodding lightly. He had seen the first wave clearly—over five hundred men from each of two directions had attacked, and now fewer than two hundred remained in either group. The Tang defenders had fired only three volleys, yet five thousand arrows had claimed more than five hundred lives; their arrows were lethally effective.

He knew such losses were unavoidable. Attacking Tong Pass meant filling the breach with the bodies of his men, hoping that their sacrifices would drain the defenders’ arrows and strength, eventually allowing his soldiers to retaliate and scale the walls.

The Tang defenders would eventually tire, their arrows would run out; then, his men could strike back.

Thus, he grit his teeth and ordered the next waves to charge, ready to seize any chance to retaliate.

Orders were swiftly relayed, and Cui Qianyou remained on the hillside, cursing the cursed terrain of Tong Pass. Had the city’s defenses been less formidable, the battle would have unfolded differently; many of his soldiers would have already scaled the walls. Now, only a handful managed to reach the base of the wall, and those who did were swiftly slain by Tang archers. The ladders carried by his men lay scattered before the city, not a single one propped against the ramparts.

He commanded tens of thousands, but only a few thousand could attack from several directions; the rest were unable to advance, the terrain too narrow. This was a bitter realization—if he could deploy more troops beneath Tong Pass, nearly one hundred thousand men would not have been stalled for six months, gazing helplessly at the gate. Chang’an might already have been conquered, let alone Tong Pass.

After months of fruitless assaults, An Qingxu, Cui Qianyou, and Tian Sizhen devised a desperate plan during their strategy meetings: to launch uninterrupted attacks with groups of several hundred or a thousand, thereby exhausting the defenders’ strength and arrows, waiting for the chance to scale the walls.

In the sieges before the battle at Lingbao, Cui Qianyou had used this approach, but with little effect. Tong Pass held vast stores of arrows, continually replenished from Chang’an, and the defenders were numerous enough to rotate and reinforce. Six months of relentless attacks had yielded nothing.

Ultimately, it was only by feigning weakness that they lured Geshu Han out, inflicting heavy losses on the Tang at Lingbao.

After their victory at Lingbao, An Qingxu, Cui Qianyou, and Tian Sizhen believed the defenders at Tong Pass were demoralized; once their forces arrived, the Tang would either surrender or flee en masse. Yet the resistance proved as fierce as before.

But Cui Qianyou’s thoughts had changed. He knew the defenders were now few—far too few to withstand attrition. As long as he pressed the attack before Tang reinforcements arrived, the defenders could not hold out. He would use the bodies of his soldiers to wear down the Tang, even build ladders from their corpses.

Thus, Cui Qianyou ordered relentless attacks, regardless of casualties, employing sheer numbers. Any who hesitated or held back would be executed without mercy.

Under his command, the rebels charged forward in endless succession.