Chapter 66: The Greatest Warrior of Tubo

Songtsen Gamp stood tall across the vast and boundless land of Tibet. The biting wind lashed across his face like a razor blade, yet it failed in the slightest to cool the blazing fervor of battle ignited within his heart.

He could clearly feel the fiery warlike spirit of the Tibetan people, surging like a volcanic eruption and spreading across this land with the overwhelming force of a collapsing mountain and a roaring sea.

Without a moment of hesitation, he immediately gave the order to summon every warrior capable of fighting.

Those commands flew forth like eagles spreading their wings, carried swiftly away by couriers riding at a gallop.

Straddling their fine steeds, the messengers galloped like shooting stars toward the various tribes.

Upon receiving the news, the Tibetan tribes were filled with surging indignation, every single person burning with righteous anger.

Without hesitation, they put down the tools they were laboring with, set aside their deep attachment to their families, and picked up the weapons they had long kept sharp.

Surging forward like a powerful tide, they rushed toward the assembly point from all directions.

Flames of vengeance burned brightly within their eyes, so intense that they seemed capable of setting the very sky ablaze.

No one could insult the Tsenpo! Not even the Great Tang!

They were fiercer and more blazing than the fire in Songtsen Gampo’s eyes—it was a long-suppressed fury and a fervent thirst for victory in battle.

Before long, an army of vengeance was formed.

Led by Songtsen Gampo’s tall and majestic figure, they resembled a pack of thoroughly enraged wolves.

With bloodlust flashing in their eyes and a heart full of blazing fury toward the Great Tang, they marched aggressively toward the Tang border.

The deafening sound of hooves thundered like dense battle drums between heaven and earth, and every single hoofbeat felt as though the earth itself were trembling in agony.

No one knew whether these men sought merely to restore the Tsenpo's honor, or because winter was fast approaching and they needed to plunder the Great Tang to sustain themselves through the cold months.

Regardless of the reason, this high-spirited army was assembled at astonishing speed.

Among this imposing Tibetan host stood a young and valorous warrior—Gar Tongtsen’s son, Lu Qinling.

He had been born with astonishing divine strength, as if bestowed upon Tibet as a priceless treasure by the heavens, hailed as a peerless warrior not seen in a millennium.

He was the son of the Great Chancellor Gar Tongtsen. Father and son—one a statesman, the other a military commander—were hailed as the twin pillars of Tibet and its ultimate backbone.

Once Songtsen Gampo had reorganized the troops, he led an army of three hundred thousand, like an unstoppable black torrent, marching majestically toward the border of the Great Tang.

As the army advanced, a look of eager anticipation appeared on Lu Qinling’s young and vibrant face.

"Tsenpo, I request permission to lead a vanguard force ahead of the main army to scout the way!"

Lu Qinling implored Songtsen Gampo earnestly.

His tall physique leaned slightly forward in the saddle, excitement gleaming in his eyes, for he found the steady and deliberate pace of the main army utterly agonizing.

He could hardly wait to display his prowess on the soil of the Great Tang, pillaging and letting the people of Tang witness his true might.

Hearing his son’s words, Gar Tongtsen furrowed his brow tightly, a flash of worry crossing his eyes.

He understood all too well the cruelty and unpredictability of war; although he had confidence in his son’s abilities, he had no wish to let Lu Qinling rush blindly into danger.

"Lu Qinling, do not act with such reckless abandon!" Gar Tongtsen said sternly.

However, Songtsen Gampo raised a hand to interrupt Gar Tongtsen.

A look of deep trust and appreciation shone within his profound eyes as he smiled and said:

"Why must the Great Chancellor be so cautious? Do you not trust your own son? He is, after all, the foremost warrior of Tibet."

Songtsen Gampo turned his gaze to Lu Qinling.

"Lu Qinling, speak. How many troops do you require?"

Hearing these words from Songtsen Gampo, Lu Qinling was overjoyed, his already bright eyes sparkling even more brilliantly.

"Tsenpo, I need only five thousand elite cavalry to sweep across everything! Those Tang people are certainly no match for me!"

Lu Qinling declared with absolute confidence.

Tibet had clashed with the Great Tang before; although the casualty ratio had been one-to-one, Lu Qinling believed that was simply because the previous commander had been utterly incompetent. If he were in command, the outcome would undeniably be different.

Songtsen Gampo smiled upon hearing this, his expression filled with encouragement for the young man.

"Lu Qinling, I believe in your capabilities. Since you shall be the vanguard for our army, I grant you ten thousand light cavalry. Go forth and clear the path ahead."

Overjoyed, Lu Qinling quickly dismounted and bowed in gratitude to Songtsen Gampo.

"My thanks to the Tsenpo! I shall properly pave the way for our grand army."

His voice was brimming with excitement and thrill.

"Go then. Just be sure not to eat all the meat and leave us nothing even to sip the broth," Songtsen Gampo said with a hearty laugh.

"Your orders are received, Tsenpo!"

Lu Qinling vaulted back into the saddle and pulled on the reins. His steed let out a fierce whinny, as if it, too, could feel its master's exhilaration.

Though Gar Tongtsen harbored lingering anxieties, seeing his son's high-spirited and dashing demeanor, he could not bring himself to offer further dissuasion.

After all, Gar Tongtsen possessed immense confidence in his son’s martial prowess.

The title of Tibet's foremost warrior was no empty boast, and he truly believed his son would achieve victory in his very first battle.

The border targeted by this Tibetan expedition remained Songzhou (located in present-day Songpan, Sichuan).

Songzhou was a renowned and formidable frontier stronghold, holding immensely critical strategic importance.

Geographically speaking, it connected to Yizhou (Chengdu) to the south, reached Chang'an (Xi'an) to the north, and extended to Shanzhou to the west (a number of prefectures established by the Tang Dynasty in Qinghai, a region at that time primarily influenced by the Tuyuhun and Tibet).

Situated squarely at such a vital communications hub, Songzhou was known as the "Gateway to Western Sichuan."

The terrain here was perilous and rugged, surrounded on all sides by undulating mountains and rolling hills that served as natural ramparts.

The city walls were tall, imposing, and immensely thick.

The previous Battle of Songzhou had left an indelible mark etched deeply into Songtsen Gampo's memory.

Last time, he had led an army of two hundred thousand accompanied by countless siege engines, a scene that could truly be described as heaven-shaking.

Yet, even so, they had failed to capture the city of Songzhou.

That defeat had acted like a seed, deeply buried in the bottom of Songtsen Gampo's heart, where it continuously took root and sprouted, utterly fueling his ambition.

That one-to-one casualty ratio had shown him a glimmer of hope!

He firmly believed that Tibetan soldiers were by no means inferior to those of the Great Tang!

Leading ten thousand light cavalry like a howling gale, Lu Qinling marched day and night without rest.

Their speed was astonishingly fast, the dust kicked up by their horses leaving a long trail behind them.

In just two days, they appeared like ghosts beneath the walls of Songzhou City.

The commander responsible for defending the city remained Han Wei, the Military Governor of Songzhou.

During the previous Battle of Songzhou, relying on exceptional defensive tactics and unyielding resolve, he had successfully repelled the assaults of the Tibetan army and earned considerable military merit.

Consequently, he had not been transferred away; instead, he had been promoted by one rank and awarded a double salary stipend at the end of the year.

In this seemingly peaceful era of prosperity, acquiring another merit significant enough to alter one's fame was an exceedingly difficult task.

Han Wei stood atop the ramparts of Songzhou City, gazing down at the Tibetan army that had arrived at the city gates.

Far from showing any trace of fear on his weathered face, his eyes instead revealed a suppressed, boundless joy.

He had long since received the imperial decree from the Emperor: he simply needed to hold the city firmly and await the arrival of the main army.

Naturally, Han Wei had respectfully accepted the command.

He knew very well that if he were ordered to lead troops out of the city to engage these Tibetan soldiers in the field, as the Governor of Songzhou, he was truly no match for these Tibetan cavalrymen.

After all, virtually every Tibetan possessed a horse, granting them extreme mobility, and in open terrain, they held the advantage from the very beginning.

However, if it came to defending a fortified city, the situation was entirely different.

Before these tall, sturdy city walls, the warhorses of the Tibetan troops were rendered completely useless.

The walls of Songzhou were towering and majestic; last time, when Songtsen Gampo had led two hundred thousand men equipped with numerous siege weapons, he still could not breach them.
Now, with merely a paltry ten thousand light cavalry gathered beneath the city, how could Han Wei possibly take them seriously?

The corners of his mouth curved slightly upward, and confidence gleamed in his eyes as if he could already see the glorious military merit securely landing upon his head.