"Let's wait a little longer. Reinforcements will arrive in a few days."
The Northwest Marquis still held onto hope in the imperial court. Seeing that he couldn't persuade his grandfather, Xiao Zheng left in frustration.
"Brother Zheng, when will the court send us provisions?"
The soldiers' rations had been halved. Where they once ate three large steamed buns with some porridge, now they were left with only two modest-sized buns. Zhang Hu and a few others rubbed their empty stomachs, anxiously looking at Xiao Zheng.
It wasn’t just the soldiers waiting for supplies—the civilians were desperate too. The city’s grain shops had been emptied, and even those with money couldn’t buy food. Homes were shuttered, and the streets lay deserted.
These past few days, officials had been finding starved vagrants at every street corner. If this continued, even if the city held against the Tatars, the people would riot from hunger.
Xiao Zheng shook his head, an inexplicable unease settling in his chest as he recalled a sigh he’d heard back in the capital.
"Lieutenant Xiao! The enemy is attacking again!"
"Move out! To battle!"
Xiao Zheng grabbed his crossbow and rushed to the city walls. Unlike the half-hearted skirmishes of previous days, the Tatars fought ferociously now, their frontlines charging recklessly toward the gates.
The air was thick with the clamor of war—drums, battle cries, the clashing of weapons, and the screams of the wounded. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy.
"Men of the Xiao Army! Listen well! Your court has abandoned you! No reinforcements are coming! No provisions either! Your crown prince is dead, and your emperor is gravely ill! Hahaha! Hiding like cowards won’t save you! You’ll starve to death in there!"
Xiao Yan roared back, "Enough of your lies! Men! These beasts have broken their oaths! Their greed knows no bounds! They slaughtered forty thousand of our brothers! Now they invade Great Yuan! We fight for vengeance! Charge!"
After eight days of relentless siege, the soldiers’ initial skepticism had faded into grim uncertainty. Had the court truly forsaken them?
Under the cold moonlight, as the dust of battle settled, Xiao Zheng leaned against the wall, directing the cleanup.
"Report!"
A young soldier hurried forward.
"We found an injured soldier unconscious a mile from the gates!"
Xiao Zheng straightened immediately.
"Where is he?"
"Brought back. Sergeant Zhang is giving him water."
"Inform the Marquis and General Xiao at once!"
By the time they arrived, the soldier was being treated by the medic, his eyelids fluttering weakly before he finally awoke.
"Yangcheng… Yangcheng has fallen… Save us…"
Xiao Zheng paled. Yangcheng was still three hundred li from Shuozhou—how had the Tatars circled around?
"When did this happen?"
The soldier swallowed hard before continuing.
"Yesterday… A Tatar force stormed the city. I escaped to deliver the message. When I neared Shuozhou, I saw the beacon fires… I abandoned my horse and crawled the rest of the way… Yangcheng is gone… It’s all gone…"
The burly man curled into himself, covering his face as he wept.
Xiao Zheng clenched his jaw.
"Marquis! Grant me leave to lead a counterattack!"
"Marquis! We can’t wait any longer! Every moment we delay, we starve!"
A deputy glared at the Northwest Marquis.
"If the court truly meant to send aid, troops from Yingzhou could’ve reached us in two days at full gallop! It’s been ten! Not a single soldier in sight!"
The Northwest Marquis tightened his fists, eyes shut. Who was pulling the Tatars’ strings? Whoever it was had deciphered his strategies. What was their next move?
---
Capital City
A carrier pigeon landed silently in the Second Prince’s hand. Xiao You'an removed the bamboo tube and tossed the bird back into the sky. Unrolling the message, his lips curled slightly.
The next morning, news of Yangcheng’s fall reached the court, sparking heated debates.
"The Northwest Marquis hides in Shuozhou with seventy thousand men, watching Yangcheng fall! This is inexcusable!"
"Has age made the Marquis cowardly? Why won’t he fight? Does he even know strategy anymore?"
"After Yangcheng comes Jiaohe! If that falls, Chengzhou is at risk!"
"The Tatars and the Rus have allied—their combined forces number one hundred twenty thousand! The northwestern army needs reinforcements!"
"Second Prince, dispatch troops from Yingzhou to support the northwest!"
"Second Prince, the Northwest Marquis must be punished for his negligence!"
"I second this!"
Exchanging a glance with Prime Minister Murong, the Second Prince feigned hesitation.
"Such weighty matters… I dare not decide alone."
Murong You stepped forward.
"His Majesty entrusted you with regency because he believes in your wisdom. The people await your judgment, Second Prince. Do not decline this duty."
"Second Prince, decide!"
Suppressing his satisfaction, Xiao You'an waved a hand.
"Very well. By the ministers’ counsel, the Northwest Marquis has failed in his duty, leading to Yangcheng’s fall. He is unfit to command. Commander Luo shall lead ten thousand troops to the northwest and assume the rank of Grand General!"
"As you command!"
The stout Commander Luo stepped forward to accept the order. His rotund frame drew uneasy glances—few believed he’d last on the battlefield.
After court, Xiao You'an turned to the shrewd Prime Minister.
"Prime Minister, still no trace of Xiao Huan?"
Murong You shook his head.
"We’ve scoured the capital and even Yingchuan City. Nothing."
"With all your resources, you can’t find one boy?"
Xiao You'an blew on his tea, irritated.
"Does the Second Prince fear the Xiao family will rebel?"
Murong You remained unruffled.
"Does the Prime Minister not?"
Murong You laughed.
"Others I cannot vouch for, but Xiao Zhong would never rebel."
Emperor Taizu had shown Xiao Zhong great favor. As long as an heir of the imperial bloodline sat on the throne, Xiao Zhong would remain loyal.
Whether the Second Prince believed this or not, he merely said,
"Let’s hope so."
---
Shuozhou Fortress
The study’s lamp burned through the night as the generals argued fiercely. The Northwest Marquis set his token on the table, staring at the battle map in silence.
"Marquis, our rations are exhausted. Even the dogs and cats in the city have been eaten. If this continues… we’ll have to slaughter the warhorses."
"Damn it all! If we die, let’s die fighting! Open the gates! I’ll take my chances with those beasts! Better than starving like rats!"
"The Tatars diverted forces to Yangcheng. This might be our chance."
"Easy for you to say! If we fall, what happens to the civilians? If Shuozhou is lost, all thirteen northwestern cities will fall! Emperor Taizu fought six years to reclaim this land! Will we fail to hold it now?"
"This battle can be fought, but our chances of winning are less than half. If we lose, it’ll be our fault. But if we don’t fight, the fall of Yangcheng and the subsequent loss of Jiaohe will also be our fault. So tell me—should we fight or not?"
Fight or not?
Fighting is wrong. Not fighting is also wrong.
The room fell into silence once more.
Xiao Zheng ran his fingers over the embroidered pouch in his hand and strode out into the street, with Zhang Hu following closely behind. Watching Xiao Zheng glance left and right at the shop signs, Zhang Hu scratched his head in confusion.
"Brother Zheng, where are we going?"
Xiao Zheng ignored him and kept walking.
"Look for a tavern called ‘Eternal Spring.’"
"Uh… Brother Zheng, I know you’re upset, but you can’t buy liquor now! When even food is scarce, who’d bother drinking? Most shops aren’t even open."
Xiao Zheng shot him an exasperated look.
"Just do as I say. Stop with the nonsense."
"Look, there’s a flag fluttering over there—I can’t read, but that first character looks like ‘Spring,’ doesn’t it? Just like the one in ‘Spring Breeze Pavilion’!"
It was indeed Eternal Spring.
Xiao Zheng knocked lightly on the door. No response. He knocked again.
"Who is it?"
A young voice called out from inside.
"I’m a friend of Lu Chao—Yingge."
