Chapter Six: An Atmosphere of Growing Unease (Part Two)

When the watch drum struck three, Zhang Xiaochun ascended the North Gate tower alone.

"Everyone," Zhang's voice rose above the howling north wind, "as of today, Taiyuan is under martial law."

He unfurled a city defense map, which rattled in the gale.

"Commander Wang, you are responsible for the east and north walls. Inspector Zhang, guard the west gate, and General Yang Zhen will hold the south gate." He drew lines on the map with a brush. "Reinforce the exterior of all gates, and hang wet felt between the battlements to defend against fire arrows."

"Tomorrow, conscript all able-bodied men in the city, organized by neighborhood and ward. Those who resist will be dealt with according to military law."

"Understood!" the men replied in unison.

At the first light of dawn, Taiyuan became a massive, humming hive.

On the east side, hundreds of laborers chanted in rhythm, dragging thick logs onto the wall. Wang Bing personally supervised the construction, his voice sharp as he scolded any artisan who moved too slowly.

Standing on the arrow tower, Zhang Xiaochun looked down at the dense rows of laborers outside the walls and said in a low voice, "Assistant Magistrate Wang, from today, the entire city is divided into three tiers of service."

"First-tier: able-bodied men for wall construction. Second-tier: lumberjacks and brick-burners. Third-tier: women and children for cooking and carrying water. Death to those who disobey; every laborer in the city must be mobilized."

Wang Yi, clutching a ledger, bowed and replied, "Rest assured, Governor. I have already instructed the Inspectorate to oversee this by sector. The laborers for the west side arrived by the hour of the rabbit, and we are still short thirty men for the east; we are currently searching house to house for them."

Before he finished, a commotion erupted in the distance. Over a dozen laborers were being marched over by archers. The old man in the lead struggled and cried, "I truly have no strength left..."

Zhang Xiaochun glanced at him coldly. "Send him to chisel ice at the moat." He turned to Wang Bing. "Commander Wang, the wall heightening must begin today."

Wang Bing clasped his fists in acknowledgement and turned to the squad leaders behind him. "Five hundred men from the Shengjie Army are to supervise! If there aren't enough bricks, tear down civilian houses. Mix hemp fibers into the rammed earth, and coat the outer layer with three layers of mud, each mixed with iron shards. This wall must withstand the Jin army’s siege engines. Anyone caught cutting corners, I will chop you down myself!"

Thunderous chants immediately erupted from the base of the walls.

Laborers trod on frozen wooden ladders to carry sun-dried bricks up the walls, while artisans used trowels to plaster the surface. In the biting wind, men with frost-cracked hands worked with mud, yet no one dared to stop.

Wang Bing patrolled the walls on horseback. Seeing a laborer slacking off, he struck him across the back with a whip. "If the city falls, do you think your wife and children will survive?" The laborer did not dare to hide again, picking up a brick and stumbling up the ladder.

"Inspector Zhang!"

Zhang Xiaochun shouted toward the west gate. Zhang Hao, who was busy directing soldiers to dismantle the North Gate’s door panels, hurried over. "What are your orders, Governor?"

"The door panels of the North and East gates must be wrapped in iron sheets today."

Zhang Xiaochun pointed to the pile of scrap iron below. "Have the smithies work day and night. If there isn't enough, tear down the iron bells from the temples. Fill the space behind the gates with sandbags, at least three feet thick, to fend off the Jin battering rams."

Zhang Hao accepted the order and roared at the artisans, "Faster! The iron sheets must be wrapped airtight, and the rivets must be no more than three inches apart. Anyone who makes a mistake, watch your skin!"

Inside the south gate barbican, Zhang Xiaochun watched as craftsmen filled the double-layered door panels with wet sand. Three hundred pounds of iron nails were forged into iron spikes for the gate leaves. He taught the local militia to mix iron caltrops into the sandbags—an ancient siege defense method recorded in the *Wujing Zongyao*.

The banks of the moat were a scene of frantic activity. Laborers swung pickaxes to break the ice, the splashing water instantly freezing into shards on their bodies.

The scene along the Fen River was chilling: militiamen were physically wrenching apart "deer-horn" wooden barriers.

These spiked branches were submerged into the widened riverbed, forming a "death matrix" with the "iron water chestnuts" (three-edged iron spikes) buried in the river bottom. At the upstream sluice gate, men were using axes to chop through the final dam.

"Release the water!"

The river, thick with ice shards, roared into the artificial canal.

The Record Secretary and his accountant were tallying supplies when they saw a laborer secretly tucking away dry rations. He immediately ordered his arrest: "Military law!" The laborer begged for mercy, but was dragged to the bank by archers to be made an example of.

"Governor," Wang Yi rushed over with a blueprint. "This is the design for the 'horse-face' fighting platforms from the Bureau of Armaments. We can build one every fifty paces, with crossbow platforms on top. Does this seem feasible?"

Zhang Xiaochun took the blueprint. "Feasible. Have the artisans build three prototypes; I will inspect them at noon." He looked toward Yangqu Town, twenty miles north of the city. "How are the horse-trapping pits coming along?"

Wang Bing rode over. "I have already sent Zhang Hao and his men. The pits are five feet deep, with sharpened stakes buried at the bottom and covered with sod for camouflage. We expect to dig two thousand today." He lowered his voice, "It is just that those routed soldiers are disobedient; they say they would rather defend the walls than dig pits."

"Then send them to guard the west gate," Zhang Xiaochun said without hesitation. "Tell them, when the city falls, no one will escape."

On the plain north of the city, three thousand laborers dug a crisscrossing network of trenches. Each pit was six feet deep, with sharpened jujube wood stakes pointed upward at the bottom. Veteran soldiers used straw mats to lightly cover the openings, scattering thin dirt over them as camouflage.

In the afternoon, snow began to fall. Zhang Xiaochun patrolled the defenses, stepping through the accumulating snow.

The moat had been widened to forty feet, its bottom bristling with sharp bamboo stakes.

"At this rate, the moat will be finished within six days," an official said, pointing toward the distant Chongshan Temple. "The garrison commander has taken men to tear down the Buddha statues. We expect to recover a hundred thousand pounds of copper."

Zhang Xiaochun looked toward the temple, where the faint sound of clanging metal echoed.

"Tell the commander to dismantle the statues thoroughly; not a bit of copper must be wasted."

He paused, then added, "Also, have the Record Secretary take inventory of all the 'god-arm' bows and crossbows in the city. If there aren't enough, conscript weapons from the civilians—even hunting bows must be collected."

From this night on, Taiyuan became a fortress bristling with spikes. The coming and going of footsteps covered the ruts in the streets, just as they masked the sighs of countless people who would not sleep that night.

The guards on the walls wrapped their armor tighter, gazing into the pitch-black north, as if they could already hear the Jin cavalry thundering from afar, closer and closer...

...

On the seventeenth day of the eleventh month, the stench of blood from the fall of Daizhou drifted along the Hutuo River to Guo County. Li Yi, Inspector of the Daizhou Western Route, stood on the stone steps of the county office, sharpening his arrows.

His iron-backed bow had been in use for fifteen years, the ox-horn tips polished smooth by sweat. As the arrowhead scraped against the bluestone, sparks flew, reflecting in the scar at the corner of his eye like a living centipede.

"Inspector Li, the granary west of the city has been reinforced."

County Assistant Wang Tangchen came running with a ledger, mud staining the hem of his official robes. He had just led the commoners in moving the last of the millet into the cellar, sealing the entrance with brick and stone.

Before he could finish, the sound of hoofbeats suddenly erupted from outside the city. A dozen routed soldiers tumbled from their horses. One pointed to the north, managed only the word "Jin," and collapsed.

Li Yi stood up abruptly, his iron bow clattering against the stone steps. "Deputy General Zhe!"

"Here!" Zhe Keyu sprinted from the drill ground, his armor still covered in dust from training. Though only a deputy general, he carried the fierce courage of the Zhe family, and the blade at his waist was the same one his father had used in the campaigns against Western Xia.

"I have already assigned two thousand garrison troops to the four gates. The militia has been conscripted by household, one man from each family to the walls."

"Not enough."

Li Yi pulled the quiver from his waist and dumped it onto the steps. Thirty wolf-tooth arrows clattered out, each arrowhead gleaming coldly. "Tell the people: the Jin dogs have broken Daizhou and are looting for grain everywhere. Those who want to live must pick up their weapons and defend the city."

On the drum tower outside the county office, County Magistrate Li Song struck the clapper to summon the people.

His blue official robes stood out among the chaotic crowd. A woman holding a child cried, "Great Magistrate, let us surrender! I heard those who surrendered in Daizhou were spared!"

"Surrender?"

Li Yi arrived on horseback, his voice like tempered ice. He drew his bow and aimed it toward the north. "Do you see that black cloud? That is the Jin cavalry. They want grain and live captives. Even if you surrender, you will be skinned and thrown into the ditches!"

The crowd fell silent in fear. Zhe Keyu shouted angrily, "My Zhe family has guarded the border for generations. My grandfather died in Lingzhou, my father died in Hengshan—I have never heard the word 'surrender'! Those who wish to defend the city, follow me!"

In the fields outside the city, the fleeing refugees scattered like ants, their wails tearing through the early winter wind. Some carried their elderly mothers or dragged their young children; most were empty-handed, running in a daze as if pursued by demons.

—Indeed, there were demons.

On the horizon, the dense Jin cavalry washed over the hills like a tide.

Iron hooves shattered the frozen earth, long blades glinted in the cold, and frost clung to their fur caps as their breath condensed into mist.

This was not the main force of the Western Route Army, but a detachment led by the fierce warrior Wanyan Bali. Ordered to clear the obstacles to Taiyuan, even this detachment spelled certain doom for the small city.

At dawn on the eighteenth, the Jin vanguard arrived at the gates of Guo County.

The dust raised by over three hundred warhorses blotted out the sun. They circled the city, roaring, hoping to use terror to break the resolve of the defenders.

"Loose arrows!" Li Yi bellowed. The militia on the walls fired in unison, a rain of arrows like locusts forcing the Jin troops to retreat.

Zhe Keyu, watching from the west gate, saw clearly that the main force was still behind.

The Jin army did not attack immediately, opting instead to camp outside the city.

As night fell, the torches of the Jin camp merged into a sea of blood, illuminating half the sky. The people inside the city huddled in their homes, listening to the horns, the hoofbeats, and... the screams.

The Jin army was sweeping through the surrounding villages.

"They... they are killing everyone..." An old farmer who had escaped into the city collapsed, his trousers soaked. "Zhang Village... it's all gone... the women were dragged away, and the children... the children were hoisted on the tips of their spears..."

Inside the county office, Magistrate Li Song turned deathly pale. Assistant Wang Tangchen’s hands trembled, while the County Constable and the Wine Inspector drank heavily to numb themselves.

"Should we... should we..." Wang Tangchen's voice quavered.

"Surrender?"

Zhe Keyu, the young general of the Zhe family, gave a cold laugh. "When the Jin broke Daizhou, they didn't just loot money—they turned the women into camp prostitutes. Are you sure you want to surrender?"

A deathly silence filled the hall.