Chapter 23: Breaking the Deadlock

Fluttering banners obscured the firmament, and the thunderous beat of drums shook the horizon. The camp of King Yan, fortified with wooden palisades and spiked barricades, was now filled with the overwhelming sound of banners and drums. To the casual observer, it would seem that the Huang Chao army, having suffered several setbacks at the hands of the Taining Snow Commander Qi Kelang, was forced to beat drums all day to boost the morale of their troops.

However, a closer look would reveal that there were no drummers at all. Instead, goats with their hind legs tethered were placed in front of large drums, their constant struggling against their bindings causing them to strike the drums incessantly. Nearby, a group of warhorses, starved for several days and denied fodder, had bells tied to their necks, leaping and braying wildly within the stables. With sheep beating drums and starved horses ringing bells, how could the camp be anything but a cacophony of sound? In this way, the enemy would surely believe that the Huang Chao encampment still held a formidable force.

Zhu Wen was not a man who worried from dawn till dusk. He even spent more time sleeping than the average person. Yet, this ample rest ensured that when he was awake, his mind was exceptionally clear and his brain functioned with high efficiency. Consequently, he contemplated more details than others and devised plans that were far more meticulous and thorough.

While the "sheep drumming and starved horse bell-ringing" strategy was being deployed in the main camp, Zhu Wen himself had already descended deep underground. Here, one could only make out the surroundings by the light of pine torches. Under the flickering glow, elongated shadows stretched across the tunnel walls, winding and swaying like ghosts.

"Lady Fan, I have put you to much trouble." Zhu Wen spoke to a tall, burly woman with a fair complexion and arms as thick as an ox's. Lady Fan simply grinned broadly and drove her iron shovel into the rock wall with a forceful *thwack*, as if slicing through tofu, showing that she found no burden in the work at all. It amused Zhu Wen to think that this big-mouthed woman shared the same name as Fan Su, the famous songstress of the poet Bai Juyi, who was known for her "cherry-blossom mouth."

Yet, Lady Fan’s identity was not to be underestimated. She was the current leader of the Xie Ling Warriors. Founded by Fan Chong, the leader of the Red Eyebrow rebels at the end of the Xin Dynasty, the Xie Ling sect was one of the four great tomb-robbing schools in the world. To make up for a lack of military funds, Fan Chong had famously excavated the imperial tombs of the Western Han. Although Fan Chong was later defeated by Emperor Guangwu of the Han, his descendants remained active, maintaining the Xie Ling tradition. The "Xie Ling Warriors" existed between the worlds of outlaws and grave robbers; when there were tombs to raid, they dug, and when there were none, their leader would issue a command to gather in the mountains and pillage for wealth. As the leader of the northern martial arts alliance, Wang Xianzhi’s camp was filled with such eccentric talents. This burly Lady Fan was the twenty-first generation descendant of Fan Chong and the current head of the Xie Ling school. For the Xie Ling, digging tunnels was as effortless as reaching for an object in one’s palm.

The generals stood in the tunnel, their eyes fixed on Zhu Wen’s back. The youth’s back was nothing extraordinary, perhaps even slightly slender. Yet, no one dared to doubt his wisdom and ingenious strategies anymore. The scene of Zhu Wen discussing his plan at the military council flashed back into their minds.

"Qi Kelang’s three-layered 'Camp-Shattering' strategy is interconnected, ring upon ring," Zhu Wen had said. "Therefore, to counter his plan, I must also use three layers. Each layer must be the exact opposite of conventional thinking to penetrate the tactical mind of the Four Commanders."

Zhu Wen had smiled gracefully, idly tossing a die that landed on the ground, showing a six. Qi Kelang liked to play Go when devising plans, but Zhu Wen, a born gambler, preferred dice.

"The Alliance Leader previously had a falling out with my master, and they even came to blows. It appears our two armies still have a rift and must camp separately. But I have used this to my advantage, quietly borrowing Lady Fan’s Xie Ling Warriors without the enemy noticing. This is the first layer."

He threw another die; it was another six. "The enemy is using tunnels to attack us, so if we use the very tunnels they have dug to counter-attack, it will become their blind spot. However, relying entirely on the enemy's tunnels carries the risk of being discovered. During the Battle of Suiyang, when the An-Shi rebels besieged Songzhou, both sides left many tunnels beneath the ground. By scouting these long-standing tunnels and making minor repairs, they remain perfectly usable. This is the second layer."

As Zhu Wen spoke, the expressions of everyone present became incredibly solemn, their eyes fixed on the dice in his hand.

"Usually, tunnel warfare implies a night raid. But we must do the opposite. Even if the casualties are slightly higher upon breaking through, during the daylight hours, the enemy’s combat troops are preoccupied with guarding the Northern Bian River dikes and the various forward camps on the earthen hills. They cannot organize much resistance within their main camp! This is the third layer."

The third die fell, also showing a six.

"I have finished. Who agrees, and who opposes?" Zhu Wen looked leisurely at the three sixes on the ground and clapped his hands. The room fell into dead silence. In that moment, everyone knew: the invincible myth of the Four Commanders of the Tang might truly be coming to an end.

"Our army is about to break through to the surface," said Ban Fanlang, Meng Kai’s deputy, excitedly, though his voice held a hint of nervousness. "Can it really be so smooth?"

"Impossible." As the architect of the plan, Zhu Wen gave a negative answer without hesitation. Under Ban Fanlang’s stunned gaze, Zhu Wen swung his blade—the precious 'Xia Longque' sword erupted with a brilliant, peerless radiance. Instantly, the earth and stone shattered, falling away as a massive hole appeared above.

Zhu Wen leaped upward without hesitation. Outside was the camp of the logistics troops, where the five-colored flags of the Five Virtues Camp stood. The Five Virtues Camp was divided into Gold, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth units, composed primarily of skilled craftsmen from across the Tang Empire. However, these artisans were not adept at hand-to-hand combat; even if some possessed brute strength or knew a few moves, they were no match for truly well-trained soldiers.

"Oh no! The grass-thieves have counter-dug their way in from the tunnels!"
"Heavens, we’re doomed! Run!"

The craftsmen of the Five Virtues Camp cried out in alarm, scurrying through the camp like headless flies. Huang Chao’s nephew, Lin Yan, had eyes that glowed with excitement: "The Five Virtues Camp is numerous but weak. If we charge in and slaughter them, we can throw their entire camp into chaos..."

Zhu Wen interrupted: "One who considers victory must first consider defeat. Has Qi Kelang considered the possibility of us seeing through his plan, or even the possibility of us counter-attacking from the tunnels?"

Lin Yan was startled: "If every possibility has been calculated by Qi Kelang, what could possibly defeat him? Is he not invincible?"

"If he had infinite resources and could conjure soldiers from beans, theoretically, that would be true," Zhu Wen said calmly. "But the reality is that Qi Kelang lacks sufficient troops; he only has five thousand true combat soldiers. By setting up so many complex strategies and spreading his forces thin, he has inevitably left his main camp hollow."

Lin Yan said happily: "So we won't encounter any decent resistance?"

Zhu Wen shook his head: "In this situation, the enemy must have an ambush."

Lin Yan looked confused. Zhu Wen remained composed and at ease: "Ambushers are people, too, not ghosts."

"If we know the ambush exists, will we still fall into their trap?"

Lin Yan was shocked: "So, beyond the three layers, you calculated one more layer than Qi Kelang?"

Zhu Wen smiled slightly: "He who calculates more wins, he who calculates less loses; what then of he who calculates nothing at all?"

With that, he waved his hand, signaling the heroes who had emerged from the tunnels to form a circular formation, protecting each other's backs. They carried short weapons like swords and daggers, which were advantageous for melee combat. Many of the Huang Chao army were men from the martial arts world; they could easily discard their long spears and switch back to swords—a great advantage of these wild heroes.

He raised his palm to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun, peering toward a narrow corner on the left side of the Five Virtues Camp, then decisively said to Duan Hongyan: "Junior sister, fire at that spot!"

Duan Hongyan met his gaze and smiled beautifully. She drew her bow, and the arrow left the string like a shooting star, piercing through a layer of tent fabric and drilling exactly through the narrow gap between two felt tents.

A heart-rending scream rang out. Xiao Ling, a substitute among the 'Six Stars of the Southern Dipper' of the Taining Army, was struck in the thigh. The blood that sprayed instantly stained her combat skirt a dark red. Zhu Wen squinted, expressing his provocation toward Xiao Ling—who, despite not being unattractive, had her features twisted into a grotesque mask—and then laughed heartily.

As Xiao Ling fell, hidden figures appeared rapidly, swarming like ghosts.

"I had intended to use the Five Virtues Camp as bait to let you charge for a while, then strike you down," said a gloomy-faced, sickly-looking young man, cracking his knuckles which had turned a bruised blue. "I didn't expect you to see through it. It seems we must fight with real steel after all."

This man was another of the 'Six Stars of the Southern Dipper,' Deng Jijun, who was as famous as Yan Lingkong. Compared to Yan Lingkong, Deng Jijun was colder and more decisive.

"Bah! You're at death's door and still dare to brag!" Lady Fan, the leader of the Xie Ling school, cursed, brandishing her massive iron shovel as she lunged at Deng Jijun.

Deng Jijun brandished his weapons: a pair of hooked swords (Wu Gou). Seeing Lady Fan charge, he did not speak but let out a shrill, eerie laugh, whirling his hooked swords into a dance of silver snakes to block the violent onslaught of her iron shovel.

As a descendant of the Red Eyebrow leader Fan Chong, Lady Fan was burly and strong, her brows as sharp as knives. Her rolled-up sleeves revealed arms covered in corded muscle, and she was more than half a head taller than Deng Jijun. The iron shovel she used had an incredibly long handle and razor-sharp edges, capable of severing limbs with ease. When swung, it carried the force of a mountain.

However, Deng Jijun’s hooked swords swirled like a seamless, airtight web. Using the strategy of overcoming hardness with softness, he neutralized the sea-like, mountain-crushing momentum of Lady Fan’s shovel. The two fought for twenty rounds—a true match of evenly matched opponents.

Suddenly, a raspy, ominous sound emerged from Deng Jijun’s throat. He poured sudden power into his hooks, the dark energy of the blades coiling like a python around Lady Fan’s shovel. Using his hands as pivot points, he neutralized her momentum and redirected her own force against her. Lady Fan was taken aback. As she tried to retreat rapidly to dissipate the fierce, dark energy, her large frame proved slightly too sluggish. Caught by the python-like force, she hesitated for a split second, and the massive power struck her heart, causing her to fly several yards backward, fall to the ground, and vomit blood uncontrollably!

"Big Sister, are you alright?" Xie Ling disciples rushed forward to support the severely injured Lady Fan. Seeing her life was not in immediate danger, they realized she could no longer fight.

One of the rebel generals muttered in disbelief: "The Xie Ling school is not known for martial arts, but Lady Fan is the head of a major school; her strength is certainly not low. How could she be defeated so quickly?"

Another replied: "Lady Fan is large and naturally strong. To be defeated and severely injured after only twenty rounds with Deng Jijun... it seems the heroes of the Taining Army under Snow Commander Qi Kelang truly cannot be underestimated!"

Before the words had faded, both men felt a splitting pain in their heads. It was Zhu Wen, who had delivered a sharp, forceful rap to both of their heads for "lowering one's own morale while raising the enemy's."

"So much for the grass-thieves." After beating Lady Fan until she retreated, vomiting blood, Deng Jijun said coldly, his eyes brimming with contempt.

Before he could finish his sentence, a deafening explosion echoed, and dust and debris flew everywhere. Deng Jijun retreated like a shuttle, his expression changing drastically. When he looked closely, he saw one of his swordsmen crushed to the ground, bones shattered, vomiting blood, and dying instantly. The object that had crushed him was a half-grown foal.

Meng Kai, his chest bared and holding a great axe, looked like an angry guardian deity, his voice booming like thunder: "So much for that? You gloomy, neither-man-nor-woman pretty boy, say that to my face again!"

The foal was something Meng Kai had snatched from somewhere in the camp. Though not yet fully grown, it weighed a hundred or two hundred pounds, yet he had hurled it like a projectile, instantly crushing a man. His movements were as swift as a rabbit leaping and a falcon striking, leaving everyone on the field stunned and speechless.