Chapter 23: The Eyes of the World (Part 5)

Half an hour later, the scouts discovered several bloodstained strips of cloth and a pile of extinguished ashes by the stream.

"Bojin, they rested here. There weren't many of them—maybe a few hundred," Alubu said, picking up a strip of cloth. The blood on it had frozen into a dark, purplish-black.

He suddenly smiled, like a hunter who had caught the scent of prey. "A few hundred, plus infantry... it’s them."

When hunting in Golemin Sanyan Alin (Changbai Mountain), the best way to track a wounded herd of deer is to follow the bloodstains; they cannot run fast and will only expose their path due to panic.

He looked up toward the distant Tianmen Pass, its gatehouse looming faintly through the wind and snow.

"They want to retreat into the pass and hide?" Alubu spat. "Not so easy!"

He vaulted onto his horse and drew his saber, pointing it ahead. "Pick up the pace! Intercept them before they reach the pass! Skin them alive to avenge our brothers!"

The fifty Jurchen warriors roared in unison, their voices echoing through the valley. Their warhorses galloped across the snow, the white steam from their nostrils merging into a single long, white dragon.

Wounded prey always runs toward familiar ground, but that path is often a dead end.

The storm intensified, nearly blurring their vision. But Alubu and his scouts were like tireless hounds, scouring the snow for the slightest trace.

Suddenly, one man reined in his horse, pointing toward a patch of snow mist scattered by the wind: "Bojin, there is movement there!"

Alubu narrowed his eyes. Indeed, dark shapes were moving within the mist; their silhouettes looked like routed Song soldiers.

A surge of wild joy filled him, and he tightened his grip on his saber. Among the White Mountains and Black Waters, nothing was more exhilarating than watching cornered prey tremble in the snow—it stirred a hunter’s blood.

"Split into two teams and flank them!" he ordered in a low, bloodthirsty tone. "Don't let them get near the pass!"

The fifty Jurchen cavalry immediately split into two, circling silently toward the mist. He would slaughter them beneath the pass, strip them of their skin, and let everyone know that the price for humiliating a Jurchen warrior was to die without a grave.

The sound of hooves grew louder in the wind and snow. A cruel smile appeared on Alubu’s face. The hunting instinct bestowed upon him by the White Mountains and Black Waters was burning fiercely; in this land covered by ice and snow, only the strongest hunter could survive.

"Loose arrows!" With a roar, a dense rain of arrows pierced the morning mist.

"The Jin dogs are here!"

The defensive line formed by the remnants of the Song army was instantly torn apart. A blood-stained soldier had just raised his weapon when three heavy arrows pierced his chest. He stumbled backward, knocking over a comrade who was reloading a crossbow.

"Hold the formation!" Commander Wang Hu shouted at the top of his lungs, his spear parrying a Jin cavalryman. But in the blink of an eye, another volley of arrows descended, and he watched helplessly as the brothers beside him collapsed one by one.

The brief skirmish ended quickly. Under the sabers and arrows of the Jurchen warriors, the Song soldiers were as fragile as ever. Alubu reined in his horse, looking at the scattered corpses of the Song soldiers in the snow, his brows furrowing.

There were over eighty bodies, most bearing old wounds, and a few were frozen stiff—clearly dead for some time.

"Bojin, these southern troops are truly pathetically weak."

Before the scout could continue, Alubu raised a hand to stop him. He dismounted, his boots sinking into the frozen blood pools. The snow around the corpses was a mess of overlapping footprints; at first glance, it looked like hundreds had gathered here, but a closer count revealed fewer than a hundred actual people.

"Search!" he waved his hand sharply, and the Jurchen cavalry scattered.

Soon, the scouts discovered the ruse behind a thicket: dozens of tree branches tied with worn-out boot soles had dragged chaotic marks through the snow, and further out, there were intentionally planted footprints.

Alubu kicked a snowbank. "It's a diversion! They created these tracks on purpose just to lure us here!"

"Split into two teams!" Alubu’s voice was filled with rage. "One team to Tianmen Pass to check for the main army's movements; the other, follow me south! If you don't find them, don't come back to see me!"

The scouts scattered. Alubu gazed at the southern horizon, a flicker of unease crossing his heart. This was no longer a simple hunt.

...

On a ridge northwest of Taiyuan City, one could see the vast, flat plains stretching out—and there stood Taiyuan, a formidable fortress!

It was rectangular, spanning ten li and two hundred seventy paces in circumference (approx. 5.94 km). The walls were over three zhang (10 meters) high, built of rammed earth with outer brick and stone masonry. The gates featured barbicans, the corners had watchtowers, and every hundred paces along the walls sat a "horse-face" (projecting bastion).

The moat, fifteen to twenty meters wide, was fed by a tributary of the Fen River. A "sheep and horse" wall hugged the inner edge of the moat, about three meters from the main wall, serving as the first line of defense to prevent the enemy from reaching the walls directly.

Outside the moat and gates, the ground was littered with caltrops and hidden pits. Along the main supply routes and likely approach paths for the Jin army, there were pits over a zhang deep, filled with sharpened wooden stakes or iron spikes. The area was dense with trenches to block any advance.

The city battlements were covered in wooden sheds draped in wet ox hides for fire protection, housing soldiers and siege engines like bed crossbows and seven-lever trebuchets.

With its deep moats and imposing towers, the city rained down arrows, artillery, rolling logs, and stones like thunder, leaving the Jin soldiers to pile up in death.

"Good, finally a sturdy city worth defending!" Li Xiao tightened his coat. In the bitter cold of deep winter, the white steam he exhaled condensed into frost before his eyes.

In the distance, the Jin camp looked like a black giant python, extending from the north of the city to both sides, nearly encircling the entire fortress.

Faint cries drifted through the cold wind. He squinted, vaguely seeing civilians being driven by Jin soldiers with whips, building earth walls outside the camp. Their frost-cracked hands gripped heavy wooden mallets, and every strike felt like a blow to the heart.

"They intend to starve Taiyuan to death," the old servant Li Quanwu sighed behind him, his jujube-wood staff thumping heavily against the ground.

Everyone stared at the war-torn city, their emotions turbulent. Taiyuan was the throat of the Hedong Circuit—to the north lay the Xindai Basin, to the south the Fen River Valley. If they held this, the Jin army could not cross the Taihang Mountains; if they lost it, the entire Hedong region would be an open courtyard. The Jin could march down the Fen River, strike directly at Guanzhong, or even threaten Bianjing to the south.

No wonder the Jin were desperate to take it, even if they had to pile up mountains of corpses.

Suddenly, smoke and dust rose from the battlements, followed by earth-shaking shouts.

The Jin siege towers rammed against the walls once more, wood and stone flying. He could vaguely see the Song soldiers on the walls waving their long spears like swaying weeds in a gale.

The stones from the trebuchets struck the walls with dull, thunderous thuds, each one tightening the hearts of those on the ridge.

"Brother Li, we part here." Sun Yi offered a salute, the frost on his armor rattling as it fell. The 130 cavalrymen behind him were ready, their horses nervously pawing the ground, white steam billowing from their nostrils.

Li Xiao was stunned. "What are you doing?"

"Our duty is to defend this land." Sun Yi drew his saber, pointing it at Taiyuan City. "If Taiyuan falls, we shall perish with it."

He glanced at the sixty foot soldiers behind him. "I entrust these brothers to you. Take them to Qingyuan. If you can, remember to build us a mound of earth."

"You're insane!" Li Xiao grabbed his arm. "With only a hundred of you, you're just throwing your lives away!"

"We are soldiers, fed by the Imperial Court. When the city falls, someone must die in leather armor, so the people inside can see that the Song army didn't all run away." He shouted at the top of his voice, his words echoing in the cold wind. "Brothers, do you remember the blood at Shuozhou? Today, we spill our blood beneath the walls of Taiyuan to wash away the shame of our defeat!"

"Wash away the shame!" the cavalrymen roared in unison, their voices shaking the valley.

They led their horses, trudging through the deep snow, leaving behind a trail of heavy footprints. Only when they reached a point close to the city would they vault into their saddles to launch their final charge—even if they were to die, they would die in the saddle.

"Madmen... a bunch of madmen!" Li Xiao watched their retreating figures, feeling a mix of urgency and suffocation.

He couldn't understand it. When they could have lived, why must they rush to their deaths? He was a horse trader, earning money to return to Shuzhou for a life of leisure, but these people seemed to value death more than life.

"Let's go, Master," Li Quanwu tugged his sleeve. "If we don't leave now, the Jin soldiers will discover us."

Li Xiao glared at the direction of Taiyuan City and turned his horse around. "To Qingyuan!"

The group moved south in silence, no one speaking.

The cold wind carried snow particles that stung their faces. Li Xiao watched the swirling snow and muttered to himself, "Uncle Quanwu, how did we end up in this state?"

Li Quanwu sighed. "The ways of the world are unpredictable."

"The Li family was so glorious back in Shuzhou," Li Xiao said with self-mockery. "When the Flower and Stone Transport started, my father sold his shops to redeem the goods; when Fang La rioted, the Western Army moved south to suppress them, and the Li family’s goods were washed away in blood; the court issued worthless paper money, and all that remained of our family fortune was drained away..."

He gave a bitter smile. "I came to Hedong to trade horses, just wanting to make some money, return to Shuzhou to buy a small courtyard, wander the streets by day, and listen to music in a brothel by night. How did it come to this?"

He thought of his previous life, dying after a fall while exploring the Xiling Snow Mountains, only to wake up as Li Xiao in this era. He had hoped to remain a carefree young master, wandering the famous mountains and rivers, but now, that wish seemed shattered.

"Damn heavens, can't you let me live in peace for a few days?" Li Xiao cursed at the sky, snow falling into his mouth.

"Master, don't think about it." Li Quanwu advised, "Let's just head south to Shuzhou without looking back! Let the Jin iron cavalry trample the world outside! Our Shu roads are difficult, harder than ascending to heaven! I don't believe those Jin thieves can break through Shaanxi, climb the Qinling Mountains, breach the mighty Jianmen Pass, and invade our Land of Abundance! By then, the emperor will be far away, and we can find new trade routes and live our lives all the same."

"Return to Shuzhou," Li Xiao repeated, but his heart felt empty.

He gazed at the northern sky. The sounds of battle from Taiyuan still drifted faintly, like a thorn in his heart. He vaguely remembered that in history, the Song Dynasty seemed to have lost, and Taiyuan eventually fell. But how exactly? As a spoiled brat who was always skipping classes, how could he remember? He only regretted not listening to more lectures.

"I heard there's another route of Jin soldiers near Hebei; I fear Zhending Prefecture and Daming Prefecture won't be safe either," Shi Yong sighed.

"Zhending is a major city," Lu Fenghu added. "The walls are three zhang high, thirty li in circumference. Back in the day, the Khitan couldn't take it even after half a year."

"That was then," Yuan Zhenhai, the former commander of the Shuozhou army, sighed. "The current Song army... cannot hold." He looked toward Taiyuan, his eyes seeing the backs of his comrades, filled with grief. "This beautiful land will soon fall into the hands of a foreign race."

Everyone fell silent.

The sounds of battle in Hebei seemed to drift through the cold wind—the bell towers of Zhending, the moats of Daming, the beacon towers of Hejian. These names, which he had only heard of, would soon be ruins.

"Speaking of which," Li Quanwu muttered, "The hometown of Lord Zhao of Dayi in our Shuzhou seems to be in Zhending Prefecture. What was it called during the Eastern Han? Right, Changshan Zhending. Sigh, if Zhending falls to war, Lord Zhao's hometown will likely become ruins under the iron hooves of the Jin thieves."

"Lord Zhao? Who's that?" Shi Meng scratched his head.

"You really are ignorant. Haven't you heard the storytellers? Zhao Zilong, the famous general of the Three Kingdoms! One of the Five Tiger Generals under Emperor Zhaolie of Han!"

"Changshan Zhending?" Li Xiao suddenly reined in his horse, jolting so hard he almost fell into the snow.

He stared fixedly at Li Quanwu, his eyes wide, forgetting even to breathe.

"Master? What's wrong?" Li Quanwu was startled. "Are you freezing? We're too close to the Jin here, we can't afford any mishaps!"

A thousand voices seemed to be roaring in Li Xiao's mind.

"I don't know... I just feel like I'm burning up!"

The cold wind howled, but Li Xiao could no longer feel the chill. His heart pounded in his chest, louder than the trebuchets of Taiyuan. He felt as if the wind and snow before him had changed, transforming into a massive net that bound him tightly to this shattered land.