At Ashina Gudu's casual remark, the strategist who had long navigated between two nations found himself frozen in place.
The atmosphere inside the great tent turned suffocating in that instant.
The composure he had so carefully maintained, the cunning he had always prided himself on, was stripped bare under the piercing gaze of the Steppe Lord, a man who saw straight to the heart of things.
The pressure of one who wielded power over life and death required no ornamentation of words.
A single, weightless syllable was enough to make a man of letters, skilled in political games, tremble to his very core.
All the petty power struggles within the Grand Qian court, which those self-proclaimed masters of intrigue fancied so sophisticated, were nothing but the games of children in the eyes of this true ruler.
The strategist forced down the dryness rising in his throat, fighting to steady his quavering voice.
He bent low, stretching his face into a mask of utmost humility and fawning obeisance.
"Your Majesty is truly devine in foresight, a sage king who sees through all heavens! The meager views of a rustic fool cannot compare to even a fraction of Your Majesty's wisdom. My master often said that among the heroes of this world, only Your Majesty deserves such a title."
He kept his body bent, his tone pitched low, his posture scraping the very earth with deference.
"My master has instructed me to deliver a message to Your Majesty. Once the affairs at the border have concluded and the overall situation has stabilized, my master shall find the most opportune moment, cross the great divide, and hold direct counsel with Your Majesty on the grand schemes of the realm."
He offered these empty promises to hold back the killing intent of the Khaganate's court.
Matters of power-sharing and territorial division could only be settled when the real powers met face to face.
Having said his piece, the strategist, well aware of the proverb that too many words bring ruin, did not wait for Ashina Gudu's approval or reprimand. He dropped to both knees and performed a meticulously correct Grand Qian courtly bow.
"I dare not disturb Your Majesty's military affairs any further. I shall take my leave. May Your Majesty's banners bring victory."
With that, he slowly straightened, keeping his posture bowed, and shuffled backward out of the war tent thick with murderous intent.
The heavy felt curtain fell, sealing off the howling northern wind outside.
Ashina Gudu remained seated upon his tiger-skin throne. He lowered his gaze, staring at the thick logs being devoured by flames in the brazier, and did not utter a word for a long while.
After a moment, a faint, contemptuous sneer echoed through the vacant tent.
"After the deed is done? Another meeting?" Ashina Gudu's voice dripped with derision. "Someone truly overestimates his own worth. A cur dares to dream of dancing with wolves."
The scene shifted to the central camp of the Left Luli King.
The night was deep, the northern wind a blade scraping bone, sweeping across the plains at the foot of the Yinshan Mountains.
Within the camp, the braziers and bonfires had been reduced to a mere three-tenths of the previous night's number. Occasionally, a patrol of armored soldiers hurried past, their steps swift and anxious.
The emptiness left by the departure of the main forces was amplified into an overwhelming void by the biting wind.
Inside the central command tent, oil lamps flickered.
The Left Luli King Aubin — no, Ashina Dubi — let out a heavy, resigned sigh as he looked at the Han strategist Chen Changfeng standing quietly to the side.
"Chen, you have seen the Great Khan's secret order. According to his command, most of the elite troops in the camp were already mustered out last night, slipping away under the cover of the sandstorm and darkness to reinforce the western front."
Ashina Dubi waved a hand broadly, pointing at the black void beyond the tent. "Go out there and take a look. In this central camp now, besides the fewer than four thousand Iron Cavalry, all that remains are the old and weak conscripts scraped together from various tribes."
He paced back and forth past the wooden table, two steps each way. "Though the urgently requisitioned grain from the rear is being transported and should arrive in a few days to stave off the hunger crisis, we're desperately short of manpower. With those tens of thousands of unarmored, half-hearted excuses for soldiers holding crooked blades, how could we possibly breach the gates of Zhenbei Pass?"
Chen Changfeng listened, then stepped forward and raised his hands in a formal salute.
Faced with his commander's agitation, he remained serene, his words clear and methodical.
"Gully King, do not fret! The Great Khan's decision to issue this transfer order is precisely the mark of brilliance. In this central theater, our task was never to smash against the iron walls of Zhenbei Pass."
Chen Changfeng tapped the table with his fingers, laying out the tactical core bluntly: "The essential mission of the central army is not to 'break the city', but to 'trap the beast'."
"Trap the beast?" Ashina Dubi paused and asked.
"Precisely," Chen Changfeng replied. "As the art of war states, besiege a city with ten times its force. Our numbers here are insufficient, and a full assault would be a fool's errand, smashing eggs against stone."
"So since we cannot break in, we simply do not attack."
He stretched out his hand and drew a long line across the blank space ten li beyond Zhenbei Pass on the deployment map.
"Those tens of thousands of old and weak conscripts in the camp would be sending them to their deaths if tasked with a frontal charge. But if we put them to manual labor, they become the perfect workforce."
Chen Changfeng unveiled the first link of his plan.
"Gully King, order every single one of them out. Issue no weapons, only iron spades and pickaxes."
"Command them to work through the night outside Zhenbei Pass, digging trenches two zhang deep along the city's outer perimeter. Then use the excavated earth to raise high ramparts on the outer rim of the ditches."
Ashina Dubi's eyes went wide.
Chen Changfeng continued: "This is not for storming the city. This is a reverse construction, sealing it off. Once the deep trench and high rampart are completed, they form a physical precipice that severs any charge of cavalry."
"At that point, Zhenbei Pass becomes a dead tomb in the desert."
"Even if Tie Lanshan commands thirty thousand elite troops inside, his soldiers will be completely bottled up within the city, unable to fly so much as a feather out."
It was a radical reversal of traditional siege doctrine, grafting the defensive role of earthworks onto the besieging force itself.
This plan was truly viable! After all, their current troops could never hope to launch a proper assault!
"This desolate-earthwork scheme is utterly astonishing," Ashina Dubi exclaimed.
"This is the part that blocks their movement. Next, we must break their spirit."
Chen Changfeng did not pause. He presented the second move of his chain of schemes.
"The western prefecture has been crippled by the Great Khan's trebuchets. Many sections of its walls have collapsed. This is an iron-clad fact."
"Gully King, simply order every archer and crossbowman in the camp to transcribe this intelligence report into thousands of copies, tie them to fletched arrows without arrowheads, and when dawn breaks, shower them all onto the battlements of Zhenbei Pass."
"This is genuine intelligence. Tie Lanshan cannot dismiss it."
Chen Changfeng stood in the lantern light, laying out the threads of this deadlock in a calm voice.
"When the defender of Zhenbei Pass reads this report, he will be roasted over an open fire."
"If Tie Lanshan chooses to keep his gates shut and preserve his strength, then the western prefecture will surely fall within days."
"Once the west is lost, Zhenbei Pass becomes a lone city with no avenue of retreat, doomed sooner or later to be razed."
"If Tie Lanshan, out of loyalty to his comrades, cannot stomach it and opens the gates to reinforce the west—"
Chen Changfeng jabbed his finger at the trench line he had just drawn on the map.
"The moment the Grand Qian troops step out of that gate, they will charge headfirst into the meat grinder formed by our overnight construction and the four thousand Iron Cavalry."
"Go, and you die. Stay, and you die."
Using the brutal truth to shatter the enemy general's psychological defenses.
This was the most blatant, undisguised scheme, forcing the choice upon the opponent. Whatever path they took, it was a talisman of certain death.
At that, Chen Changfeng paused his speech.
He looked up toward the tent opening, then stepped forward half a pace, drawing close to Ashina Dubi's ear.
Chen Changfeng, in a voice meant only for the two of them, laid out his final stratagem for breaching the city gates, revealing it in its entirety.
Ashina Dubi listened to the whispered words, remaining composed at first.
But when he heard the final sentence, his eyes widened uncontrollably, and an expression of extreme shock spread across his face.
"But there is such a matter!" Ashina Dubi stepped back and threw his head back with a laugh.
"Lord Chen is truly extraordinary! I have campaigned for half my life and seen more strategists than fish in a river, yet not one could match your foresight, Master Strategist. With your aid, this northern frontier of the Great Qian is already mine for the taking!"
Faced with such high praise from his commander, Chen Changfeng showed not a trace of pride.
He merely waved his hand slightly and returned to his original position, his face betraying neither joy nor sorrow.
That stillness unique to a top-tier advisor was displayed to perfection, with none of the frivolity of one who rests on his laurels.
"The Gully King flatters me. It is merely leveraging the situation to set the board. Time is of the essence, and I ask the Gully King to make his decision soon."
Ashina Dubi was brimming with battle fervor. He grabbed his great cloak from the table, threw it over his shoulders, and strode out of the tent in long, quick steps to rally his troops and set the laborers to digging trenches.
Chen Changfeng remained alone in the tent.
When the commander was far off, he walked alone to the entrance of the central command tent.
He reached out and lifted the heavy felt curtain, half of his body facing the pitch-black night. The biting wind poured into his sleeves.
His gaze pierced through layer upon layer of darkness, staring far off at the great fortress of the Great Qian, hidden in the night tens of li away.
In the shrill howl of the wind, Chen Changfeng coldly regarded that expanse of earth and sky. This scheme of open maneuver had already been set—it was a tight, impenetrable net of iron.
In the wind, he parted his lips slightly, and his whispered words were quickly scattered by the northern gale.
"I'd like to see how Xu Qinghuan manages to counter this move this time."
