Chapter Twenty-Five: The Scholar Dies for His Remonstrance, the Warrior Dies in Battle

(Apologies for the late update—this is a five-thousand-word chapter.)

That morning, Li Guang and his men, who had not slept all night, stood upon the ramparts of Qiansang City, leaning against the wall, gazing into the distance. Throughout the night, none of them had left their posts atop the city wall.

Before the gates, the open expanse remained desolate—the Xiongnu had not yet arrived, though daylight had already broken. Qin Cheng directed his gaze toward the mountain pass, where a group of Xiongnu cavalry could be seen lingering restlessly. At this, Qin Cheng breathed a quiet sigh of relief; the Xiongnu’s reaction confirmed that the ambush he’d advocated before dawn had succeeded. Otherwise, the Xiongnu force would have surged forth en masse, rather than splitting off to occupy the pass. As things stood, it could only mean that their main force was still clearing the battleground within the mountains.

“Qin Cheng, your strategy has worked,” Li Guang said, having also discerned the truth upon seeing the Xiongnu cavalry at the pass. He turned to Qin Cheng, his tone full of praise.

“It was the General’s plan that succeeded,” Qin Cheng replied with a humble nod.

Li Guang smiled. “There’s no need for false modesty. Ambushing cavalry with infantry was something I hadn’t considered last night. Today’s victory in the ambush is largely due to you.”

This was the third time that Li Guang had openly lauded Qin Cheng’s achievements. No doubt it was meant to boost morale, but there was also genuine appreciation, especially since Qin Cheng had repeatedly distinguished himself.

“I merely offered some rough ideas. The ambush only succeeded because of the General’s arrangements. Without them, there’d have been no ambush to speak of, or even if there was, it would not have succeeded.” Qin Cheng spoke sincerely. He was not being overly modest; if Li Guang had not valued his counsel or given him the chance to discuss military matters, no amount of clever schemes would have mattered.

“That’s enough; no need to dwell on it,” Li Guang said, waving his hand dismissively and turning his attention back to the mountain pass, evidently unwilling to discuss the matter further.

Qin Cheng scratched his nose, wondering if perhaps he was being too humble before Li Guang, and whether he should be less so in the future.

A streak of rosy cloud appeared on the horizon—the sun would soon rise again.

At last, the thunderous sound of hooves came echoing from the mountains. The Xiongnu cavalry at the pass quickly parted to either side, opening a path between them.

The Left Wise King, leading several thousand cavalry, charged out through the middle. Of the seven or eight thousand riders from the previous day, only five or six thousand remained after the infantry ambush. Yet their momentum had not waned; as they burst from the mountain pass’s postal road, they waved their long sabers, shouting fiercely.

At their head, the Left Wise King’s face was grim. He led the charge until his mount had brought him within an arrow’s flight of Qiansang City, where he reined in his horse with a sharp neigh. The beast reared up, forelegs pawing the air, its head twisting aside.

Steadying his mount, the Left Wise King fixed his gaze upon Li Guang on the city wall, whose face was as dark as his own.

At this point, it was impossible to say who held the upper hand. Li Guang had lost over three thousand men, but the Left Wise King had suffered no fewer casualties. Now, with roles reversed, Li Guang was defending behind solid walls, and the Left Wise King seemed to have no recourse.

The two commanders stared each other down, sparks flying in their minds. The meaning in their exchanged glances needed no words.

After a few breaths, the Left Wise King spoke first.

“Li Guang, open your gates at once and I may spare your corpse intact! Else, when the city falls, I’ll see you die with no burial and every Han soul within Qiansang City buried alongside you!” he shouted, brandishing his whip at Li Guang with insolent arrogance.

“Left Wise King, I truly wonder where you find such confidence—to think you can breach my city gates. If you have the skill, attack now! I’d like to see what’s so fearsome about Xiongnu storming fortresses, to dare boast so recklessly!” Li Guang retorted with a cold snort, his voice ringing out.

“So you truly refuse to open the gates?” the Left Wise King said icily.

“If you have the means, then use them! Why waste your breath?” Li Guang replied, his tone equally cold.

“Very well! Li Guang, you leave me no choice. If so, don’t blame me for what follows!” With that, he waved his hand and barked at the Xiongnu cavalry behind him, “Bring them forward!”

“Yes, my lord!”

The Xiongnu ranks, originally arrayed neatly, now opened a passage down the center. From the rear of the formation, a group of men was brought forth.

On the ramparts, every Han soldier—Li Guang, Ji Zhu, and Qin Cheng among them—felt their pupils contract sharply and drew a cold breath as they saw who was being led out.

It was a group of Han soldiers, captured in yesterday’s battle at the Gourd Hollow—those who had failed to retreat in time to the Eagle’s Mouth, or who had been too wounded to escape—now being herded forward by Xiongnu cavalry.

A rough count showed there were nearly a hundred such captives. Their robes were soaked in blood, their breaths faint. Yet as they looked up and saw Li Guang upon the city wall, each, though their heads had hung low, managed to lift their gaze. Their eyes shone with a complicated light.

Qin Cheng felt his scalp crawl, for he knew better than anyone the peril now facing Qiansang City, given Li Guang’s deep affection for his men. Sure enough, as the Han captives were lined up before the Xiongnu ranks and forced to their knees, the Left Wise King’s cold voice rang out again: “Li Guang, I’ll give you the time it takes for one stick of incense. If you haven’t opened your gates by then, I’ll have these captives beheaded one by one, throw their heads into your ranks to be trampled to pulp beneath a thousand hooves!”

By the end, the Left Wise King was nearly shouting each word.

“Left Wise King, you are despicable! To resort to such shameless tactics—if you have any honor, face me in open battle! I do not fear you!” Li Guang’s face flushed with rage. To see his own soldiers so humiliated before him was a fate worse than death. “Such disgraceful conduct is beneath any true man!”

“Honorable combat?” The Left Wise King suddenly laughed loudly, then, with scorn, said, “Li Guang, what claim have you to talk of honor? What right to speak of single combat? You’re nothing but a rat hiding in its hole—Qiansang City is your burrow. Too afraid even to step outside, and you talk of battle? Laughable! Is the famed Flying General Li Guang reduced to spouting such absurdities and acting so pathetically? Hmph!”

“You—” Li Guang trembled with fury, pointing at the Left Wise King but unable to retort, for his words were true: to keep Qiansang City from falling, Li Guang could only defend behind his walls, giving the Left Wise King plenty of ammunition.

Seeing Li Guang so incensed, the Left Wise King grew only more pleased, and poured more oil on the fire: “At Gourd Hollow, you fled, abandoning your men to die. Now, with captives before your gates, you dare not save them. Such a general—I’ve never seen the like! And yet you command in the Han? No wonder your armies are always defeated! It’s generals like you that lost Mayi and brought the great Han Empire to tremble beneath our Xiongnu hooves! Truly, I must thank you on behalf of the Xiongnu! Your vaunted emperor, so blind to have such cowards as his officers, still dreams of attacking my armies—what folly!”

At his signal, the five or six thousand Xiongnu cavalry all shouted in unison: “Great Xiongnu thanks General Li! Great Xiongnu thanks General Li! Great Xiongnu thanks General Li…”

The tumult shook the heavens and echoed across the earth.

On Qiansang City’s walls, every Han soldier’s face turned ashen. Hands gripped their halberds so tightly the knuckles whitened. Each man longed to charge forth and fight the Xiongnu to the death.

“Hahaha…” The Left Wise King laughed exultantly. “Li Guang, surrender now. In recognition of your service, I might even promote you! Hahaha…”

“Your little emperor will forever remain the Xiongnu Chanyu’s son-in-law! How could you ever match our cavalry?”

“Surrender now and I’ll spare your lives!”

“Shameless cur, I’ll fight you!” Li Guang, unable to bear the humiliation, drew his sword, rallying his men: “Follow me! We ride out to save our comrades and slay our foes!”

“Yes, General!” The men, already seething, responded at once, drawing their swords and crowding around Li Guang, ready to descend the ramparts.

“General, you must not!” Qin Cheng darted forward to block Li Guang, his voice urgent.

He knew all too well the Left Wise King’s words’ effect—especially on Li Guang and his men. Had he not come from the future, even he might not have restrained himself. This was not a matter of wisdom, but of human nature. Yet now, Qin Cheng was perhaps the only one in Qiansang City still able to remain calm, and so he knew he had to intervene, no matter the risk.

As expected, the moment he obstructed them, several blades were at his throat.

“Out of the way!”

“Move, or I’ll cut you down!”

“You may be a coward, but I’m not! Out of my way!”

“Go!”

Qin Cheng stood tall, unafraid of the blades at his neck. He looked coldly at Li Guang, and declared: “If you wish to kill me, General, it’s but a swing of your blade. If so, what fear have I of death? But pity the tens of thousands within Qiansang City, who would be buried with us!”

“What did you say?!” Ji Zhu roared, kicking Qin Cheng hard in the stomach, sending him staggering back.

As he staggered, the blades grazed his neck, leaving bloody lines, but Qin Cheng seemed not to notice. He straightened and said, “Yesterday, General, you told us that with our enemies unvanquished, soldiers cannot speak so lightly of death. Have you forgotten your own words? Know that to ride out now is only to die in vain!”

Li Guang hesitated—he hadn’t expected Qin Cheng to throw his own words back at him. But after a brief pause, he retorted: “A soldier values honor above life. Now the Xiongnu insult our dignity, trample our honor! As a general, I must love my men as my own sons—yet now they threaten to slaughter my comrades! As a subject, I must serve my country and my Emperor—yet the Xiongnu mock both! Have you not heard? The scholar dies for remonstrance; the warrior dies in battle! To die on the field, shrouded in horsehide, is nothing—but our honor, our nation’s dignity, must not be trampled!”

With that, Li Guang shouted, “Stand aside!”

“If a soldier cannot protect the people behind him, what use is honor? If national dignity is destroyed by mere insults, what dignity is that? A soldier’s honor is built on the bodies of his enemies, not the corpses of the people he failed to defend! The nation’s dignity is won through victory, not the annihilation of its army!” Qin Cheng bellowed, unyielding. His outcry made his wounded neck bleed all the more, blood soaking his clothes, making his visage all the fiercer.

“If the General can defeat the Xiongnu, we’ll die gladly! But if our bones are wasted for nothing, what value is our death?”

Qin Cheng spat these words, flecks of saliva striking those around him, though none noticed.

At his shout, everyone stood frozen, gazing blankly at Qin Cheng.

With a clang, Qin Cheng drew his sword and stabbed it hard into the ground, so deep it entered the stone. He declared, “If you are set on riding out, my blade is here—cut off my head for your banner! I’d rather die by your hand than fulfill the Xiongnu’s wish!”

He lifted his head defiantly, saying no more.

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the sound of harsh breathing.

After a moment, Li Guang strode forward, drew his sword, and, holding it in both hands, bowed deeply toward Qin Cheng. “Your words have awakened me, Lord Qin! Please, put away your blade and save it for the battlefield.”

His tone was sincere, without a trace of anger.

Qin Cheng accepted the sword and sheathed it, meeting Li Guang’s gaze.

Only then did Li Guang stand tall again, commanding, “Summon the physician for Lord Qin’s wounds!”

“Yes, General!” someone answered and hurried off.

Li Guang tore a strip from his cloak and personally bound Qin Cheng’s neck. Then, surveying the assembled officers, he barked, “All officers, return to your posts!”

“Yes, General!”

As Li Guang did this, the soldiers’ gazes toward Qin Cheng changed. At first, they’d seen him as a stranger—ignorant, insolent, and cowardly for blocking their path. But after his words and seeing Li Guang’s response, shame overtook them, especially Ji Zhu, who had kicked Qin Cheng and caused his wounds. Now, thoroughly abashed, he knelt and said, “I acted rashly and hurt Lord Qin. Please, strike or even behead me to vent your anger!”

“We wronged Lord Qin; please punish us!” the officers chorused, falling to their knees.

Qin Cheng was stunned; to see these generals kneeling before him, asking for chastisement, left him at a loss, especially at Ji Zhu’s offer of his own head.

Such was the spirit of the ancients; the ethos of old generals was truly remarkable. Qin Cheng felt moved, his heart surging with heat.

“Please, all of you, rise! You do me too much honor. I am unworthy—please, do not resent my earlier offense. Please, get up, all of you!” He hurried to help them up.

“Thank you, Lord Qin!” the officers replied.

Qin Cheng’s heart was full, and recalling the ways of men in later times, he was nearly brought to tears.

Damn, this is truly moving!

Once all were standing, Li Guang took Qin Cheng by the hand, saying warmly, “Lord Qin, you are wise and resourceful. Now, do you have a plan for countering the enemy?”

Unconsciously, Li Guang had come to entrust the city’s fate to Qin Cheng!

Pressed by Li Guang’s question, and seeing so many hopeful eyes, Qin Cheng felt the weight upon him double. At the moment, however, he had no strategy. His earlier intervention had been based on his understanding of Li Guang’s temperament, but now, with five or six thousand Xiongnu cavalry outside Qiansang and only a few hundred infantry and less than two hundred cavalry within, even Qin Cheng felt a chill run down his spine. Truly, one cannot cook a meal without rice.

“Let me first observe the Xiongnu’s situation with the officers, and then devise a plan.”

“So be it.”

Meanwhile, the Left Wise King, watching from below as Li Guang and the Han officers turned away from the ramparts, assumed his words had had the intended effect and that Li Guang was preparing to sally forth.

“Listen well!” he shouted to the Xiongnu cavalry. “When the Han ride out, the Right Bone Commander will cut off their retreat and seize the gates; the rest will follow me to engage Li Guang head-on!”

“Yes, my lord!”

The Left Wise King nodded, then added, “Capture the Flying General Li Guang alive and avenge Mayi—today!”

The five or six thousand Xiongnu cavalry howled with excitement.

“What about those Han captives?” a thousand-man commander asked, pointing to the dying prisoners.

“Once Li Guang leaves the gates, they’re useless—kill them! What are you waiting for?” the Left Wise King replied.

“Understood!”

He was sure that once Li Guang opened the gates, they would never close again, and Qiansang City would be his for the taking—well worth the effort he’d spent goading Li Guang to fury.

But after waiting a long time, there was still no sign of the gates opening. The Han soldiers had all withdrawn from the walls, leaving not a sound behind. The Left Wise King, growing impatient, wondered what was happening.

At last, Li Guang reappeared—not before the gates, but atop the ramparts, his gaze cold.

“Li Guang, your time is almost up! Have you made your decision?” the Left Wise King called up.

——————————————————————

Thanks to iamdushe and givemegutu for their rewards! iamdushe was the first to reward this book!!

PS: If you haven’t added this to your collection, please do, and don’t forget to vote for me! Hehe!