Chapter Forty-Five: The Most Difficult Time Is About to Arrive

"General Pang, the enemy's assault is relentless—they're trying to wear our forces down!" A deputy, drenched in sweat, rushed up to the city gate tower, reporting to Pang Zhong, who had been standing there overseeing the battle.

"I am aware," Pang Zhong replied with a grim face. "Order our men to prolong the intervals between volleys. Aim carefully before releasing. We mustn't exhaust ourselves before nightfall!"

Each group of soldiers had already loosed at least ten rounds of arrows, and the signs of fatigue had begun to show; the height and force behind each arrow were no longer what they had been at the start. This was a worrying development. Pang Zhong knew that if this continued, without respite, many would soon lack the strength to draw their bows.

He also understood that the rebels were well aware of the small number of defenders atop Han Tong Pass, and that there was no way for them to rotate fresh troops. The enemy’s unceasing attacks were meant to sap the strength of the defenders or exhaust their supply of arrows.

Once the arrows from the city walls thinned and their range diminished, that would be the signal for the rebels to launch a larger, more ferocious assault. Arrows shot upwards from the base of the wall were less lethal, but still deadly enough. Until now, the rebels had not found the opportunity for a massed barrage on the defenders; only stray arrows had reached the wall, but that would soon change.

Pang Zhong had already commanded his men to repel five charges, each with five to six hundred rebels. At the cost of several dozen casualties, they had slain over a thousand enemies—a remarkable achievement, as glorious as the results from the earlier battles for Tong Pass. Yet he knew that as long as the rebels persisted with these tactics, it would be the defenders who would ultimately fall.

How Pang Zhong wished for reinforcements, for a chance for his men to rest. He kept glancing back toward Sui Tong Pass, hoping for a glimpse of incoming aid, but none arrived.

He knew, as did all the defenders, that neither Ge Shuhan nor Yang Xi would send reinforcements, for Sui Tong Pass itself was gravely undermanned, and it was the true bulwark—the final gateway to Chang’an. Yang Xi’s arrangements were merely to delay the rebels’ assault on Sui Tong Pass, buying time for further reinforcements to arrive.

The war-scarred walls of Sui Tong Pass were in ruins, and with the troops now at hand, the position was nearly impossible to hold.

He understood, too, that even if Yang Xi or Ge Shuhan did send reinforcements, it would not be at this moment. Only once they were locked in bloody combat with the enemy would aid arrive, when it could do the most good.

In other words, even if reinforcements had already reached Sui Tong Pass, no one would come to their rescue right now.

Pang Zhong was also well aware that Sui Tong Pass was many times more defensible than Han Tong Pass. If he had command of all the forces, he too would have stationed only a token force at the dilapidated Han Tong Pass, just enough to delay the enemy. He would have left a small contingent to defend Han Tong Pass to the last, sacrificing them to slow the rebels and buy time for the main force.

Once more, the phrase “sacrifice the pawn to save the chariot” came to his mind. He believed that Yang Xi and Ge Shuhan had abandoned them as sacrificial pawns—two thousand men to hold Han Tong Pass at all costs, slowing the rebel advance. The thought brought a wave of bitterness to his heart. True, after the defeat at Lingbao, where his army of one hundred thousand was all but destroyed, the court would surely hold him responsible. Yet if he fell defending Han Tong Pass, laying down his life for his country, perhaps the court would overlook his previous failure. But to be discarded like a pawn—this was hard to accept.

Just as worry and resentment welled up within him, Yang Xi’s order arrived: pay attention to the rhythm of the enemy’s attacks, find ways to conserve the soldiers’ strength, and no matter what, hold out until nightfall. After dark, when conditions favored the defenders, they were to set up a feint to make the rebels believe the city was still well-defended, then withdraw safely to Sui Tong Pass.

Hearing this, much of Pang Zhong’s hidden resentment faded, and he found himself admiring Yang Xi’s keen perception. That such a youth could, after a brief observation, discern the enemy’s tactics was no simple matter. Many atop the wall, and perhaps even Li Fude on the other side, had not seen through the rebels’ intent.

Yang Xi had not abandoned them. He ordered them to endure until nightfall, then set up a feint so the rebels would believe Han Tong Pass was still heavily defended, keeping them from storming the walls easily. This would cover their safe retreat, and mislead the enemy into thinking the pass had not been deserted.

A sense of gratitude welled up in Pang Zhong, though he knew it was not the time for such feelings. Nevertheless, it could not be suppressed.

With his spirits lifted, Pang Zhong’s voice rang out, strong and resolute, as he issued new orders: extend the intervals between volleys, hold fire until the enemy advanced further, unless their assault intensified.

As the order went out, the arrows from the walls grew less dense. Yet the rebels felt no relief—for the threat of death had not diminished. As they pressed forward, the arrows from above struck harder and more accurately. In the summer heat, heavy armor was impossible; aside from their raised shields, the attackers had little protection, and the shields could not cover every angle from which arrows rained. A careless moment, and a stray arrow would find flesh. Wounded, a man would drop his shield, and without its cover, he was as good as a target.

The casualties among the rebel attackers did not lessen; now and then, they managed to shoot arrows up at the walls, but in their haste, few found a mark or caused any chaos among the defenders, whose lines held firm.

Li Fude, too, received Yang Xi’s orders.

Upon receiving them, Li Fude closely observed the enemy’s tactics and quickly understood the situation. He adjusted the rhythm and speed of archery fire accordingly. However, his troops had not experienced the earlier battles for Tong Pass. Seeing the enemy’s repeated waves, they had fired without restraint, and after five assaults, had loosed far more arrows than Pang Zhong’s men. Their strength was already flagging; some could no longer draw their bows fully, their arrows falling short outside the walls. Even those arrows that struck the enemy lacked killing force. Fortunately, Yang Xi’s orders came in time, allowing Li Fude to adjust his deployment and rotate in several hundred reserves.

It was also fortunate that the terrain before Tong Pass was so treacherous, preventing the rebels from launching a larger assault. Otherwise, the situation might already have been dire, with scaling ladders reaching the walls.

Yet everyone knew the hardest times were still to come. The most grueling trial lay just ahead.