Chapter Seventy-Four: Heaven Favors Me

The sudden arrival of reinforcements startled the rebel soldiers who were climbing onto the city walls one after another, and brought uncontainable joy to the Tang defenders atop the battlements.

“Brothers, Marshal Yang has led his troops to reinforce us!” Wang Sili shouted, waving his broadsword high. Under the intensified assault of the rebels, some of his men had wavered, their morale shaken. A few soldiers, frightened, turned and fled, allowing the rebels to breach the walls—an event that infuriated Wang Sili, for it was a loss of face so grave that he could not even raise his head before Yang Xi. Once the situation on the ramparts steadied, he was determined to severely punish the deserters, to restore discipline and set an example.

With no other recourse, he led his most loyal warriors in a desperate battle, vowing to slaughter every last defender who had faltered and to let not a single rebel set foot on the walls again, seeking to reclaim at least a shred of honor. In mere moments, several rebel soldiers fell to his blade and, in a fit of spite, were kicked from the walls to the ground below.

“Follow me, kill!” Tian Liangqiu too roared his battle cry, sword in hand. Like Wang Sili, he felt the sting of shame, so he joined the fray at the front, heedless of his age and the fatigue of recent days, fighting with all his might.

On the sections of the wall defended by Pang Zhong and Li Fude, no soldiers had fled and no rebels had managed to mount the ramparts, yet the appearance of Yang Xi spurred them on, and they fought all the fiercer.

The arrival of Yang Xi, along with the heroic feats of Wang Sili, Tian Liangqiu, Pang Zhong, Li Fude, and others, swiftly turned the tide. Hundreds of rebels who had scrambled atop the walls were struck down; the scaling ladders were all toppled. The immediate crisis brought by the rebel assault was staved off, though over a hundred Tang defenders fell in the vicious melee against the rebels who had made it to the walls.

With the rebel onslaught broken and no new attackers able to reach the walls for the moment, the first soldiers who had fled were rounded up. Before the assembled troops, a dozen deserters were executed; their blood and severed heads served as an offering to their fallen comrades and as a stern warning to the fearful. The officers proclaimed: any who dared flee again would meet the same fate.

Yet the rebel assault did not cease. Swarming soldiers continued to press forward, resetting the toppled ladders and clambering up at their officers’ orders, undaunted by the carnage. More rebels surged across the moat, now choked with corpses forming a grisly causeway.

The battle had raged for nearly an hour. Outside the southern gate, at least four to five thousand rebel soldiers lay dead, with even more wounded, but their assault showed no sign of abating—rather, it grew ever more ferocious.

Although the timely arrival of Yang Xi and the valor of Wang Sili, Tian Liangqiu, Pang Zhong, and Li Fude inspired the defenders to greater feats of courage, the relentless waves of rebels mounting the attack pressed them hard. Each man felt the strain, and every officer dared not slacken for a moment, personally leading their men in the fight.

Yang Xi himself had not yet entered the fray, nor had his three hundred personal guards; even his five hundred regular troops had only sent two hundred to fill gaps in the wall’s defenses.

“Deputy Commander, the Tang defenders are nearly spent!” Sub-general Li Zhenyuan, standing beside Cui Qianyou, pointed with his horsewhip toward the wall, his voice filled with excitement. “We will surely take Tong Pass this time. The rain has come at the perfect moment!”

“This rain is a blessing—it has cost the Tang dearly!” Though drenched and somewhat dizzy, Cui Qianyou’s spirits soared. The irrepressible ambition that had surged in him days before at Lingbao returned. “The Tang are about to collapse. Our troops will soon storm the walls and rout the defenders! Pass my order: attack with all your might, give the Tang no chance to breathe! Whoever takes Tong Pass will be richly rewarded!”

Now was the time for him to achieve glory again, Cui Qianyou thought as he issued his new orders.

At his command, the rebel soldiers, wild with frenzy, let out earth-shaking howls and surged toward the breached moat, ready to mount the walls.

Scaling ladders were set up in dense ranks. Some rebels, already on the ladders, leaped onto the walls as soon as the way was clear; though all who jumped were cut down and most ladders were toppled early, many more rebels followed, clambering upward relentlessly. The archers atop the walls could only focus on those already scaling, their fire slackening against the continuous wave below, allowing more and more rebels to mass at the foot of the walls.

The battle atop the ramparts grew ever more desperate, the advantage slowly shifting from the Tang to the rebels.

Yet Yang Xi remained calm. He and his three hundred guards, along with three hundred more troops, did not rush forward but watched the battle quietly from beneath the gate tower. He knew the time had not yet come for him to join the fight personally; he had to issue his orders with a cool head, for if he committed all his forces too soon, he would have nothing left for a true crisis.

The mist in the moat ebbed and flowed, sometimes thick, sometimes thin. When the wind blew, it cleared away, revealing the grim reality: rebels were still streaming across the bridges of corpses, surging to the base of the walls and mounting their assault in relentless waves.

“That cursed rain—why does it not stop?” Yang Xi muttered, gazing up at the downpour.

He had no idea how long the rain had lasted; it felt like an eternity, and every moment he hoped for it to end or at least ease off.

The downpour had badly hampered the advance of reinforcements, something Yang Xi knew all too well. What he had hoped would arrive before nightfall now seemed impossible.

Instead, the rain only grew heavier, showing no sign of letting up. It was now a true deluge—waterfalls cascaded down the mountains near Tong Pass, torrents ran over the ramparts, and water streamed in sheets down the walls.

A sudden gust of wind swept away all the mist from the walls and the moat. For a brief moment, the rain paused and Yang Xi’s vision cleared. He saw waterfalls streaming down the nearby mountains, the moat swelling with water, now so turbulent that even the corpse-bridges were swept away, taking unlucky soldiers with them. Yet still more rebels pressed to the western edge of the moat, and more and more ladders rose against the walls, too many for the defenders to push away; the rebels began to swarm over the ramparts.

“Brothers, follow me into battle!” At last, Yang Xi could restrain himself no longer. He drew his sword, ready to join the fight.

But just then, a series of thunderous explosions erupted outside the city, so loud that Yang Xi, poised to charge, was momentarily startled. Turning toward the sound, he instantly understood its source.

But what he saw was not terrifying—it filled him with joy.

“Heaven favors me!” Yang Xi could not help but cry out, his voice ringing with exultation.