Tang Dynasty Swordsman

Page 202

Li Ji's soul originated from the future, so naturally he understood the "power of the people" far better than most officials and scholars of that era, and he was not afraid of it. To put it nicely, he was adept at using the "power of the people"; to put it bluntly, he was confident in utilizing it. Thus, after occupying Liangzhou, he sent figures like Yin Shen and Chang Heng, wandering martial arts masters, to infiltrate Gansu and Jiangsu to contact the Tang resistance forces…

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Fighting with Their Backs to the River

Zhong Hua was originally from Hebei. His grandfather had served in the army on a western expedition and later returned to his hometown in Hexi. He was granted several hundred acres of land outside Zhangye City, which provided him with enough to eat and wear. Zhong Hua's father was weak and unable to serve in the army, but he himself was quite strong and originally intended to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and make a name for himself on the battlefield. However, just as he came of age, the An Lushan Rebellion broke out. Many soldiers from the Western Army were transferred to the east. Although there were vacancies, the army was short of money and food and dared not raise a flag to recruit soldiers.

Then the Tibetans attacked, seizing all of Zhong's land. Zhong Hua's father died of grief and anger. Wiping away his tears, he vowed revenge and gathered over a hundred men to become bandits, ambushing and killing lone Tibetan soldiers. But soon, troops from Zhangye City came to suppress them, and less than ten of Zhong Hua's men were left, forced to flee into the Ganjun Mountains.

This summer, a Taoist priest named Qingyuan, introduced by a fellow villager, suddenly came to Zhong Hua, saying that he had a tiger-like forehead and a sturdy jaw, and possessed the qualities of a general. He then briefly revealed that since Grand Commandant Li had taken Liangzhou, he was plotting to recover the entire Hexi region. If Zhong Hua could rise up and respond to him, he would surely be able to join his ranks and become a key general in a garrison.

Zhong Hua's initial near-disappointment was reignited by the Taoist's mystical words, stirring up his grand ambitions and even burning desires. So he went down to Ganjun Mountain and recruited people everywhere, quickly gathering two or three hundred men—but this time he dared not act rashly, waiting for Grand Commandant Li's western expedition.

Last month, Qingyuan Daoist came to my door again and asked how I was preparing for the upcoming military campaign by Grand Commandant Li. Zhong Hua looked ashamed and said that I was not capable enough and time was short. I had only just gathered such a small number of people and I was afraid that I would not be able to achieve any merit and would not be worthy of the Grand Commandant's attention.

Master Qingyuan smiled and said, "A stone the size of a fist, placed on a scale, weighs only a few ounces, but if tied with a well sweep, it can weigh a thousand pounds."

Zhong Hua looked somewhat bewildered and asked, "What are you saying, sir? I don't quite understand."

The Taoist Qingyuan advised him: "If it were on the battlefield, with ten thousand horses charging at each other, your few hundred men would naturally be no match; but if you could open the city gates from the inside during the siege and respond to the royal army, you would surely achieve a great feat!"

Following Li Ji's instructions, Zhong Hua was instructed to find an opportunity to infiltrate Shandan City, and he was repeatedly told: "If the royal army stops at the city, do not act rashly. Wait until the attack is urgent, then your few talents may be of use - then you can attack the gate and light a fire as a signal."

Yin Shen, Chang Heng, and dozens of other江湖人士 (jianghu figures) secretly traveled through Gansu and Jiangsu provinces, contacting ambitious individuals who refused to submit to Tibetan rule. Their main instructions were to assist in the siege. Li Ji knew that Qilibuzang had been repeatedly defeated by him and was demoralized. If it were a decisive battle in open field, he was not afraid of him—and as Chang Heng had told Zhong Hua, those small groups of a few hundred men were of little help on the battlefield. But if they were to defend a city, that would be more troublesome.

Through the connections of江湖人士 (jianghu figures, people of the martial arts world), almost every city in the two prefectures had several pawns like Zhong Hua planted. However, the problem was that the Tibetans distrusted the Tang people, and in times of war, they would often first disperse the Tang soldiers to prevent them from having the opportunity to support the Tang army. As a result, in Shandan City, only Zhong Hua was lucky enough to temporarily replace the Tang laborers forced to transport grain and supplies with several dozen accomplices, and was subsequently stranded in the city due to the approaching Tang army…

Zhong Hua was secretly delighted, thinking to himself that Mr. Qingyuan was indeed right, saying that I had the appearance of a general. He did know that there were several other resistance forces in the state that had received the same instructions, but he did not know that Chang Heng had given almost the same words to all the leaders, describing them as having a tiger-like forehead and a sturdy jaw.

After Li Ji successfully captured Shandan City, he immediately rewarded Zhong Hua handsomely and incorporated him and dozens of his comrades into his personal guard, under the command of Yuan Jing'an—who also trained them. Meanwhile, the other two hundred companions outside the city were used to replenish the wounded and injured in each camp.

Li Ji then left Hou Zhongzhuang to guard the city and receive the follow-up troops, while he himself led five battalions of strong soldiers, including Lao Jing, intending to pursue Qi Libuzang relentlessly. Yan Zhuang, Gao Ying, and others advised against it, but Li Ji said, "The enemy has fled in haste and has not gone far. If we can catch up, they will be in great panic and it will not be difficult to defeat them. However, if we let them return to Zhangye and remain there for two or three days, it will not be easy to attack the city again."

Anyway, my main force will catch up soon—he ordered Ma Meng to lead troops to secure the rear, and Wei Gao to subdue the nearby Qiang and Hu tribes. He also ordered Chen Lizhen's elite cavalry and Gao Chongwen's vanguard army, these two powerful forces, to rest for one night in Shandan and then hurry west to meet him.

Ignoring the advice of his officers and generals, he rushed out of the city in pursuit. However, Qilibuzang was very fast, and Li Ji chased him all the way to the outskirts of Zhangye, but only managed to kill a few dozen stragglers. Although the Uyghur army had already moved south, Li Ji did not know where his troops were, so he dared not advance any further. Therefore, he set up camp about twenty miles away from Zhangye, with his back to the Ruoshui ferry crossing.

The Weak Water is deep and swift, making it difficult to cross—of course, the saying "a goose feather can float without sinking" is an exaggeration—only a section east of Zhangye is slightly calmer, thus becoming a crucial passage connecting the cities of Zhangye and Shandan. Li Ji camped with his troops away from the ford to secure the crossing and facilitate the rapid arrival of follow-up troops.

When Qilibuzang returned to Zhangye City, he inquired about the battle situation. He was told that the Tang-Hui allied forces had marched south, passed Xianchi Feng, and advanced westward, and were currently lingering around Liaoquan Shouzhuo. Upon hearing this, Qilibuzang frowned and then said with a wry smile, "We've fallen into Li Ji's trap again."

He then realized that the main force heading south was the Uyghur army, and even if there were Tang soldiers, they wouldn't be many. If Li Ji really sent several thousand troops, or even personally led them, to march south with the Uyghurs, once they passed Xianchi Beacon, they would definitely rush to attack Zhangye; now that they were not moving very fast, they probably didn't have the confidence or intention to attack the city on their own.

If I had known, I wouldn't have rushed back to Zhangye. I could have properly reorganized the defenses of Shandan... But by returning in haste, the morale of the troops in Shandan must be in chaos. If the Tang army takes the opportunity to attack the city, I don't know how many days we can hold out.

It would be better to simply abandon Shandan and concentrate all our forces on Zhangye!

Just as I was feeling frustrated, another urgent report came: "The Tang army is following our tracks and has already crossed the Ruoshui Ferry!"

Qilibuzang was shocked: "Has Shandan fallen?" It's only been half a day at most, how could the city have fallen so quickly? Li Ji is too terrifying! He hurriedly asked, "How many Tang troops are there? Are they coming to besiege Zhangye?"

When he heard that the pursuing Tang army numbered only two or three thousand, and that they had crossed the river but dared not approach the city, instead setting up camp with their backs to the river, Qilibuzang was somewhat confused. He paced around the room for a long time, finally stamping his foot: "Enough! At this critical moment, the only option is to fight our way forward and fight for survival!"

If they wait for the main Tang army to arrive, along with reinforcements from the Uyghurs, Zhangye would become an isolated city, and it might not be able to hold out. Moreover, the soldiers had followed him to reinforce Shandan first, and were now returning to Zhangye; suspicion was running high among them, and morale was inevitably low… Qilibuzang considered that it would be better to take advantage of the fact that the main Tang army had not yet arrived, and the Uyghurs were still nearly a hundred miles away, and personally lead his elite troops to launch a fierce attack on the Tang camp. If they could successfully defeat this Tang vanguard, it would boost the morale of his army and help in the subsequent defense of the city.

So he immediately mustered five thousand barbarian soldiers and four thousand Qiang and Hu cavalry, and left Zhangye City, heading straight for the Ruoshui Ferry. Along the way, scouts repeatedly reported that they were fighting with the Tang army's scattered cavalry. Although they had suffered losses, they had also confirmed that only two or three thousand Tang soldiers had crossed the Ruoshui River and were busy digging trenches and building fortifications. Looking towards the east bank, they still could not see the main force of the Tang army arriving.

Moreover, Li Ji's banner of the Hexi Military Governor is now in the Jinqian Tang camp!

Qilibuzang thought to himself, "He's everywhere..." He immediately looked up to the sky and prayed, "May all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas be above. If it is indeed Li Ji who personally led the vanguard in this reckless advance, then if I can kill Li Ji here, not only will Ganzhou be safe, but Liangzhou may even be recovered! If Liangzhou is recovered, Da Nanglun may also be promoted to the position of Da Lun again. I... and my clan will definitely devote ourselves to Buddhism from now on, and burn all the Xiangxiong Buddhist scriptures and paintings that we have privately collected!"

He then commanded his troops to rush forward and set up battle formation five miles from the Tang camp.

From a distance, it was clear that the Tang army's camp was not yet fully formed; they were still digging trenches. Upon seeing the Tibetan army approaching, they hastily formed ranks and assumed a defensive posture. Qilibuzang held his position and slowly advanced until he was more than an arrow's length away from the enemy, at which point it seemed that the Tang army's formation was still incomplete.

He was, after all, a veteran general of the Tibetan Empire. In recent years, he had suffered repeated defeats at the hands of Li Ji, often being led by the nose. It was inevitable that fear would creep in, but this was accompanied by a profound self-loathing for his own cowardice. Before leaving the city, he had planned to order the Qiang and Hu cavalry to charge forward first, to test the enemy's strength. Now, seeing the Tang fortifications incomplete and the Tang people showing signs of panic, and fearing that the main Tang army might reach the east bank of the Ruoshui River at any moment, he gritted his teeth, drew his sword from his waist, raised it to the air, and shouted:

"All the good men of Tibet, follow me to charge into the Tang camp. For every Tang soldier killed, I will reward you with ten gold pieces. Whoever can capture and kill Li Ji will be granted five hundred households of slaves and corresponding land!"

He immediately spurred his warhorse, brandished his sword, and charged forward. The barbarian soldiers responded with shouts of encouragement, each urging their horses onward or marching towards the Tang camp.

Li Ji, facing him, couldn't help but inwardly groan, but outwardly remained composed, smiling as he said to those around him, "I didn't expect Qilibuzang to have the courage to come out of the city to fight. I underestimated him before." It seems that the saying "a cornered beast will fight" is very true. You can't push your enemy too far, otherwise even a rabbit will bite when cornered.

"How far are the elite cavalry and the vanguard from here?"

His subordinates reported: "The elite cavalry is still thirty li southwest of Jindu..."

Li Ji secretly calculated in his mind—hmm, I'll have to hold out for at least two hours… In fact, at a galloping pace, thirty li would be covered in the blink of an eye. The problem is that Chen Lizhen doesn't know he's already encountered the enemy; he's probably still moving at a marching pace. And even if he reaches the ferry, he still has to cross the Ruoshui River. He can only hope that if the barbarian bandits see his main force arriving from afar, they will be frightened and retreat on their own… But given the current aggressive situation, it's really hard to say.

Yuan Jing'an advised, "Grand Commandant, you should not put yourself in such a dangerous place. Why don't you retreat to Shuidong first?"

Li Ji glared at him: "I can retreat alone, but how will these thousands of soldiers cross the enemy lines? Do you want me to abandon my troops and do nothing? If I do that, what difference is there between living and dying?!"

He then took his lance, raised it from his horse, and shouted, "The barbarian bandits are at their last gasp. As long as we hold this position and wait for the elite cavalry and vanguard to arrive, we will surely annihilate them on the banks of the Weak River! The Weak River is turbulent and difficult to cross. Retreat means certain death, but fighting still offers a chance of survival. I will stand here and never retreat until the last soldier is left!"

So they arranged their formations and devised strategies, but before they could fully complete the process, the Tibetan army charged straight at them.

A hail of arrows rained down from the Tang camp, but unfortunately, facing the vanguard of a thousand barbarian cavalry, even with powerful bows and crossbows, the damage was ultimately limited. Qilibuzang charged ahead, deflecting several arrows with his sword. Seeing that the Tang spearmen were gathering and forming ranks behind the trenches, not yet in perfect formation, he immediately shouted, "Li Ji, let's see if your shallow trenches and thin formation can stop me!!"

Because he had already spotted it: under the Tang army's banner, a general immediately brandished his spear, seemingly none other than Li Ji—he had been ordered to Chang'an for negotiations several times, or had passed through Li Ji's army, and had met him several times. However, in his boiling blood, Qilibuzang spoke in Tibetan, not Tang language, so even if Li Ji heard him, he probably wouldn't understand what he was shouting.

The closer they got to the dawn of victory, the less careless Qilibuzang dared to be. He slightly slowed his horse's pace, allowing the barbarian cavalry around him to keep up, forming a relatively flat horizontal line. Within this line, his eyes were fixed on Li Ji, using only the corner of his eye to observe the terrain ahead. The Tang soldiers had dug several trenches in front of their camp, not yet fully completed. A quick glance revealed they were indeed narrow, easily crossed by leaping horses. However, it seemed there were still people hiding in the trenches?

Are there archers lying in ambush? But I charged past them, and even the best archers could only fire a few rounds.

As they approached the trench, another volley of arrows came from the Tang camp. Qilibuzang dodged to the side, and as his gaze shifted and returned, he saw a number of bamboo poles suddenly standing diagonally in the trench. If these were spears standing at an angle, they might be able to stop the charging warhorses—although they were sparse and wouldn't be very effective—but the bamboo poles weren't sharpened; they were all flat-headed. What purpose did they serve?

Just as he was wondering what was going on, he suddenly heard a series of loud bangs beside him, followed by a thick plume of smoke mixed with flames shooting out from the end of the bamboo pole, hitting him in the face. Before Qilibuzang could react, he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and involuntarily tumbled off his horse to the ground...

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In the list of supplies that Li Ji wrote to Yu Ling, there was a specific item: thick bamboo poles, the purpose of which was to test-produce gunpowder weapons.

After transmigrating to this world, he quickly learned that gunpowder already existed, though it wasn't widespread. Forget about New Year's Day celebrations; people still burned bamboo for the sound, not firecrackers. Even in the military, it was only used as a kindling agent, a substitute for grease and straw ash. The common people's understanding of gunpowder was, as its name suggests, that of a "medicine"—supposedly capable of treating skin diseases, killing insects, warding off evil spirits, and dispelling dampness…

Li Bi also knew about gunpowder, but he primarily practiced internal alchemy and occasionally concocted some fasting pills, so he wouldn't use gunpowder. According to Li Bi, many Daoists of the Ge Hong lineage in the Liangzhe region used gunpowder as an important ingredient in their alchemy—Li Ji thought to himself, "Ge Hong, I do know him…"

When he was still in Weibo, he ordered Jia Huai, Yun Lin, Chang Heng, Lao Huang, and others to research and improve gunpowder—because the previous gunpowder formula had too weak an explosive force and could only be used to ignite a fire, not to create an explosion. Jia Huai and Yun Lin, these martial arts figures, had diverse knowledge and a wide range of expertise; Chang Heng, being a Taoist, also knew a bit about fire-making and alchemy; as for Lao Huang, as a master craftsman, he was an expert in fire-making.

Li Ji planned to make muskets, but failed—even the most uniform iron pipes could probably only be forged by Old Huang, and it would be extremely laborious, making it a losing proposition. He then considered making cannons, but unfortunately, all the military materials, such as copper and iron, were insufficient even for forging cold weapons. Finally, in desperation, he turned his attention to bamboo…

Chapter 40, Having gained Long, One Wants Shu

In fact, early firearms and cannons weren't particularly technologically advanced. Theoretically, a time traveler could find suitable craftsmen and, given enough time, create them all. The problem was that without any existing prototypes to reference, all the related technologies had to be developed through trial and error. Achieving final success through repeated failures required an astronomical investment of money and resources.

This was an unbearable burden for Li Ji. From Weibo to Shuofang, and then to Hexi, he never had enough money and food. In addition, he never dared to cut back on soldiers' pay and tried to improve their diet as much as possible, which meant that he had to stretch every penny in half and simply could not afford enough experimental funds.

Thus, gunpowder was slightly improved, and a few gun barrels were made, but there was still a long way to go before the true "invention" of the musket, and more importantly, mass production...

Furthermore, even if you could mass-produce firearms, those primitive muzzle-loading smoothbore guns would not be able to replace bows and crossbows as the main long-range weapons on the battlefield for a long time.

If Li Ji were given a stable base, free from war for a period of time, and without the pressure of recruiting soldiers, manufacturing armor, and forging swords, he might actually be able to produce usable firearms and cannons within ten or eight years. The problem is that barbarian bandits raid every year, and the western border is in grave danger. With that kind of time and resources, he might as well focus on making sophisticated cold weapons. In short, the input and output are disproportionate, and it's impossible to reap quick results.

Jia Huai and his group presented a barely usable new type of gunpowder, but Li Ji couldn't help but feel dejected. He thought to himself, "Am I destined to only be able to 'invent' firecrackers, to hear them bang during festivals, and to smell the long-lost gunpowder smoke?" But then he thought again, "Before I transmigrated, there were almost every year there were cases of people getting injured from setting off firecrackers during festivals—who says firecrackers can't hurt people..."

So after repeated research and with minimal investment, they finally created a primitive contraption that could barely be called a "firearm": a bamboo tube was hollowed out, the bottom was sealed, leaving only a small hole, which was filled with gunpowder and paper-wrapped gravel and rubble; when in use, a red-hot iron stick was inserted into the small hole to ignite the gunpowder, which would then launch the gravel and rubble to hit people.

After testing, the firing distance can reach fifty or sixty paces, which is the same as when a regular bow is fired horizontally. However, the resulting explosion, flash, and thick smoke are something that bows and arrows cannot produce.

As for accuracy... the scattering is impossible to judge; as for power, within thirty paces, leather armor is generally not able to defend against it, but it is slightly more effective than a foot bow, and even iron armor, after clanging, will often be dented dozens of times.

The key is that experienced soldiers have a certain chance of dodging incoming arrows and can even deflect them with their weapons. However, when faced with a swarm of scattered stones, they have no choice but to use their shields to block them. Yun Lin's assessment of this was: "Even if I were unprepared, I wouldn't be able to dodge them..." He considered himself to be quite good at light footwork, though of course he couldn't compare to Cui Cuo and Hong Xian—"Moreover, it's easy for a single person to dodge, but difficult for a military formation; infantry can use their shields to block, but cavalry can't do anything about it."

Knights on horseback rarely used shields. Even when they did, it was a small shield strapped to their left arm to block arrows, with a diameter of no more than three feet. The stones shot from the bamboo tube could create an irregular circle nearly five feet long from thirty paces away.

The soldiers asked the commander to name this new weapon, and Li Ji blurted out, "Firearms." He made several hundred firearms, but only selected the cleverest and most capable soldiers from his personal guards, training and equipping a hundred of them. On several expeditions, the soldiers guarded the commander's side and never had the chance to fight—besides, firearms were useless in a charge—but unexpectedly, this time, when they encountered a conflict with the barbarian army and could only adopt a defensive posture, the firearms finally had a chance to be used.

A hundred musketeers were immediately positioned in the trenches. As the barbarian cavalry approached, they unleashed a deafening roar, sending thick smoke billowing everywhere. Many of the vanguard, horse and rider, were riddled with bullets, collapsing with screams of agony. But more importantly, while men could bear their fear, horses, being animals, were easily startled. None of the warhorses of that era had received proper training, so upon hearing the explosion and seeing the flashes of fire, the entire troop in front and behind reared up, neighing loudly.

Fortunately, it was a cavalry charge, with each cavalryman maintaining a certain distance from the others. If it had been infantry in a well-organized formation, or some legendary chain of horses, one would have dragged down the whole group, causing them to fall on the spot.

Seeing this, Li Ji hurriedly ordered the spearmen, who were not yet in formation, to rush forward, leap across the trench, and thrust their spears straight at the barbarians. Lao Jing also led several dozen of his cavalrymen to charge out from the flank. The barbarian army was thrown into chaos and quickly collapsed completely.

Even Li Ji was puzzled. How could the Tibetans, who had been so aggressive just moments before, crumble so easily after a single setback? If it were the Tang army, even those second-rate troops from Anxi and Beiting, they would still be able to hold out a little longer, given their superior numbers. His original intention was simply to dampen the Tibetan army's spirit, repel their first attack, and buy some time for reinforcements to arrive. However, he never expected that the muskets would achieve such remarkable success on their very first use.

Because Li Ji was unaware that Qilibuzang, who was charging ahead, was actually blasted off his horse by a musket...

The guards charged forward bravely, managing to pull their commander from beneath countless hooves. They carried him away—the news of their wounded commander's escape spread quickly, and the Tibetan army's morale plummeted. After a brief battle, they finally collapsed completely, fleeing in disarray back to Zhangye. Li Ji, ultimately outnumbered and outgunned, was finally cautious enough not to pursue them too far, merely urging his soldiers to cut down a few dozen Tibetan soldiers who had fallen behind.

Meanwhile, Qilibuzang was carried back to Zhangye City by his personal guards, who urgently sought out a military doctor for treatment. He was quite lucky; he was hit on the thigh by a horse's hoof, but the tendons and bones were not broken, only a large bruise remained. As for being shot in the face by a musket, although his breastplate was full of dents and looked quite frightening because he was wearing iron armor, it did not damage his flesh—only a shard of porcelain was embedded deep in his left shoulder.

Struggling to remove his armor with the help of his personal guards, the medic used scissors to cut open the lining of his clothes, glanced at the wound on the general's shoulder, and couldn't help but gasp. Qilibuzang asked, "Is the wound deep? It doesn't seem to have bled much, and I only feel a tingling sensation, not much pain."

The physician took out a bronze mirror and looked at himself: "General, please take a look."

Qilibuzang looked into the bronze mirror and saw a large black patch on his left shoulder, with a faint green tinge emanating from the edges of the wound. He was horrified and exclaimed, "This... could it be poisoning?!"

It turned out that Li Ji felt the muskets weren't powerful enough, so he ordered Jia Huai, who was skilled in poisons, to add more ingredients, such as aconite, wolfsbane, cinnabar, dried lacquer, and arsenic. Although it wouldn't kill instantly, the wound would easily fester. Given the medical level of that era, it would be virtually impossible to save the patient without a great deal of effort and expense.

Upon realizing this, Qilibuzang gritted his teeth and cursed, "Li Ji, how vicious you are!" He urgently asked the doctor if it could be cured. The doctor hesitated for a long time before saying, "Unless you scrape it open and find that there is no poison on the bone, it may be possible to save you... but you must remove all the surrounding skin and flesh to prevent the poison from invading through the blood vessels."

Qilibuzang had no choice but to grit his teeth and say, "Then I'll trouble you to cut out my flesh, sir! Remember General Guan Yu of the Later Han Dynasty who had his bone scraped to heal his wound? We Tibetan men are not inferior to the Chinese!" He then ordered his men to tie me to a pillar with hemp rope…

The healer was indeed quite skilled; after much effort, he finally managed to cut away all the rotten flesh and apply herbal medicine before Qilibuzang could be tortured to death. However, after such an ordeal, Qilibuzang developed a fever that night, causing him to become delirious and unable to perform any functions.

—Actually, he was quite lucky. The other barbarian generals and soldiers who were hit by muskets, even those who managed to escape, fell ill and died in the following days, and doctors had to spend a lot of time trying to save them.

Thus, the following afternoon, when the Tang army's reinforcements finally crossed the Ruoshui River and joined forces with Li Ji, the main army marched to the city of Zhangye to set up their battle formation. However, due to the serious injury of their commander, the morale of the barbarian soldiers was low. Several families who had allied with the Qiang and Hu tribes, seeing the situation was not good, secretly sent people down the city to contact the Tang people, expressing their willingness to defect and become internal agents.

On the third day, a fierce siege began. The Qiang and Hu auxiliary troops stirred up trouble inside the city, which led to the Tang army breaching the city walls in just over an hour. The Tibetan soldiers and generals, seeing that they could not hold the city and that the number of Tang troops below the city was not large—approximately less than 10,000—were incapable of besieging it. So they hurriedly opened the west gate and fled in disarray with Qilibuzang.

Because the Uyghur army, which had been advancing south from the Yan River, was surging towards Liaoquan, the defeated Tibetan army dared not flee west to Suzhou. Instead, they were forced to head south along the Zhangye River, cross the Qilian Mountains, and escape towards the Western Sea. Li Ji ordered Chen Lizhen to lead his elite cavalry in pursuit, inflicting heavy casualties.

On the afternoon of the day the city fell, the Uyghur army arrived. Their commander was naturally Li Ji's old friend, Di De, who led only about three thousand elite cavalry. Following Li Ji's advice, they feigned a Tang dynasty presence, pretending to have two or three times that number. Li Ji went out to greet Di De, and upon seeing him, couldn't help but scoff, "Your Khan is far too stingy..."

At the beginning of the year, I sent Ma Meng to borrow grain, but he only brought back a thousand sheep; now, when I request reinforcements and a pincer attack, you only send less than four thousand cavalry—isn't that a bit excessive?

Di De looked ashamed and hurriedly explained on behalf of the Khan: "Last year there was a white disaster, and many cattle and sheep died on the grasslands. It was really difficult to supply you, Changwei, with much... Moreover, the Khan did not expect that Changwei would launch such a surprise attack on Ganzhou after just recovering Liangzhou..."

Li Ji thought to himself that the first sentence was nonsense. Last year, the climate on the grasslands was relatively cold, but it was far from the so-called "white disaster." The second sentence was the truth. Changshou Tianqin Khan did not believe that I had the strength to advance into Gansu and Su. The reason he sent Di De was probably to help contain the Tibetan army and prevent them from launching a counterattack on Liangzhou this autumn.

Regardless, a single coin is a loan, and a single soldier is aid; the Uyghurs' willingness to show such an attitude should be appreciated. So, cattle and sheep were slaughtered to entertain the visiting barbarian army—the cities of Shandan and Zhangye had a considerable amount of grain stored up, which Qilibuzang had originally planned to rely on for a long-term defense—while he himself hosted a banquet and drank heartily with Dide and other Uyghur generals.

During the banquet, Emperor De asked, "I did not expect you, Changwei, to advance so swiftly. You have captured Ganzhou in just one month. Do you still intend to continue the western expedition and take Suzhou?"

Li Ji smiled and waved his hand: "There is a Chinese saying, 'Having obtained Long, one desires Shu,' which means that people are insatiable. Let's stop here this autumn."

He knew that with Qilibuzang's defeat, the western route was vulnerable, with only the Tibetan military garrison in Guazhou able to muster a few thousand men. If he advanced rapidly, he believed he could conquer Hexi and reopen the Silk Road by February or March of next year at the latest. However, the problem was that the straight-line distance from Wuwei to Dunhuang was two thousand li, and even a large army would need more than a month to travel at full speed. If Liangzhou were to be attacked, he would definitely not be able to return in time!

Is it possible that Liangzhou might be under attack? Absolutely. The main force of the Tibetan army, numbering over 100,000, is concentrated in Longyou. If Shang Jiexi receives news of the fall of Ganzhou and, in a fit of rage, turns north from Pipa Mountain and Dadouba Valley, the few fortified camps he left behind, numbering less than 2,000, simply cannot withstand them! Liangzhou is currently vulnerable. If the enemy seizes his stronghold, how far can he possibly escape by charging forward blindly? At best, he'll end up trapped in the city with Guo Xin and Li Yuanzhong…

The key issue is insufficient troops. This advance was only possible because the main Tibetan force was in the south, leaving the Hexi region vulnerable. If Shang Jiexi had focused on the northern route, I would likely have ended up like Li Sheng in Longyou, retreating step by step, consolidating my forces, and holding Guzang in hopes of reinforcements from Shuofang or even Guanzhong. The swift capture of Ganzhou was largely due to luck, and I cannot let victory go to my head, thinking that with only 20,000 men, I can truly dominate the region.

Therefore, Li Ji told Di De, "This is where I am for this year. I need to restore the military garrisons in Ganzhou and build a solid defensive line. I have no strength left to continue westward." Di De was quite disappointed and said, "I have come from over a thousand miles away, and I have not encountered the main force of the Tibetans—they were all defeated by you, Changwei—if I return empty-handed, I'm afraid it will be difficult to explain to the Khan..."

Li Ji laughed and said, "There are many Qiang and Hu people between Gansu and Su. Please, brother, spare the Tang people for my sake. But find those Qiang and Hu who have submitted to the Tang. You can burn, kill, and plunder as you please. Are you afraid you won't be able to return with a full load?"

Di De laughed heartily and said, "Although Hexi has fallen to the barbarians, it is still the old territory of your Tang family. I am not afraid that if we wantonly plunder, Changwei will not be happy... because you have stopped us from robbing in the Central Plains many times before. "Since you say so, I have no worries."

Both sides parted on good terms. The next day, Li Ji set off personally to the Tibetan army to bid farewell to Emperor De—in fact, he was urging him to hurry back, as there were many farmlands and Tang people near Zhangye, but few Qiang and Hu people, so he shouldn't plunder indiscriminately here—but he was led into the main tent by the other party's personal guards, only to find that the emperor was nowhere to be seen.

Li Ji was suspicious and somewhat wary, so he frowned and asked, "Where is your general?"

The Uyghur soldier crossed his arms and bowed slightly: "My general has to pay his respects in the inner tent morning and evening. At this time, even if the Khan comes, he will not be able to see him. Please sit for a moment, sir."

Upon hearing this, Li Ji was secretly taken aback: "What does he worship? I've never heard of such a custom among the Hui people!"

Not only does the original shamanism of the Uyghurs not have the rule of worshiping on time, but even Buddhism, Taoism, and even the so-called "Zhangzhung Law" of the old Tibetan custom, which is Bon, do not have such a rule, right? It can't be that... Dide, you went and believed in the Islamic religion, can it?!

Chapter 41, The Great Battle Valley

Li Ji had been sitting in the outer tent for less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea when Di De awkwardly came out and first clasped his hands in apology.

Li Ji hurriedly asked him, "What is it you are worshipping? You can't possibly have become a follower of Islam, can you?!"

Dide smiled and said, "I have never heard of the Islamic religion. The one I worship is the God of Light."

He then gave a detailed account to Li Ji—Li Ji had previously been ordered to lead troops south to aid the Tang Dynasty and quell the An Lushan Rebellion, but was blocked by Li Ji outside Luoyang and prevented from entering the city to plunder; unfortunately, Li Ji was then ordered to take Ru and Xu prefectures in the south, and Pugu and his son also went east. The court appointed Guo Yingyi as acting governor of the Eastern Capital, but Guo Yingyi dared not obstruct the Uyghur troops, so Emperor De was able to lead his troops in triumphantly.

Li Ji had already heard about this matter, and at the time he pointed towards Luoyang and cursed Guo Yingyi. So when Cui Ning later rebelled against his superior and drove Guo Yingyi away, Li Ji did not resent Cui Ning much. However, he soon heard that although the Uyghur army entered the city, they did not carry out large-scale looting, but only some minor skirmishes. So he suppressed his anger and did not mention the matter for the time being.

Now, Di De naturally wouldn't tell Li Ji the truth—we originally planned to rob, but were stopped by one person—he only said that we met a great man in Luoyang who expounded his teachings, so we invited him and his four disciples back to the grasslands to listen to his great teachings. So who was this great man? Di De opened his mouth with a string of difficult-to-pronounce words, clearly not from Tang China—remembering the first two syllables, it was probably "Rui Xi"—upon inquiry, he learned it was a "Persian monk."

Persia had no Buddhist lineage, so the term "monk" was simply a general term for practitioners of various religions. Li Ji knew this sect; its official name was "Manichaeism," founded in the third century by the Persian Mani, who absorbed and integrated the doctrines of Judaism, Christianity, and the indigenous Zoroastrianism. Manichaeism was once revered as the state religion of Persia, but Zoroastrianism quickly made a comeback, coerced the king, and executed Mani, forcing the sect underground.

Unlike the original Zoroastrianism in Persia, Manichaeism was a relatively rigorous, formal, and advanced religion. From its inception, Mani aspired to spread its teachings throughout the world. Thus, although it did not flourish in Persia, Manichaeism spread outwards through multiple routes: westward via Egypt to North Africa and Spain, and then via Syria to Greece, Italy, and Gaul; eastward, it spread north to Samarkand and Tashkent, and southward to the Indus River Valley.

Then, during the Wu Zhou period, Manichaeism finally arrived in China. However, for some reason, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang was very disgusted with this new sect, calling it "a heretical sect that falsely claims to be Buddhism to deceive the people"—Manichaeism was accustomed to changing its appearance for the sake of spreading its religion. Once it entered China, it used the name of Buddhism—strictly prohibiting Chinese people from believing in it and forbidding the construction of temples in China.

Therefore, it is estimated that Naruhi was a "Persian monk" from Central Asia who came from the east. Seeing that he had no future in China, he rushed to curry favor with the Uyghurs who happened to come to his aid.

According to Dide, many Uyghur soldiers who came to the aid of the south, including himself, were inspired and began to believe in Manichaeism. They worshipped the "God of Light" day and night, and after returning to the grasslands, they helped spread it in all directions. The number of believers increased day by day. The original shamanism was no match for it, and it was a complete defeat.

Li Ji asked him, "Does the Khan also believe in this religion?"