Chapter 52 Let’s Start from Here

Chapter 52: Setting Out from Here

This was not a desperate struggle, but reality.

Yet he also understood one truth: before this, he must not let Gongsun Lan engage Liu Yu, or they would just lose more men for nothing!

…

Gongsun Lan clutched his still-throbbing wound, his eyes shadowed.

He had not worked with Cui Hao for long—even Cui Hao’s father, Cui Hong, was not exactly one of Tuoba Gui’s old guard. At least Cui Hong had age on his side, but by Cui Hao’s generation, even that last advantage was gone.

Even if they disregarded age and judged solely by ability—

The Xianbei people had always only followed the strongest. And Cui Hao, who had just suffered a defeat, did not make the cut.

He truly did not see why he should follow Cui Hao’s orders.

What need was there to lie low waiting for backup, to dig in at the passes and guard against the enemy? They could simply march straight on Luoyang.

"Those fools just haven’t died enough. Once we fight them again, won’t we beat the rebellion out of them? Sooner or later, they’ll realize that compared to that so-called Yong’an mentioned by the celestial screen, Emperor Wei’s prowess is far superior."

Cui Hao arched a brow and asked, "Did our original plan—to use Yao Xing’s slow march as bait while attacking from both north and south—succeed? Were the losses on your side something we anticipated?"

Even if there were troops stationed in the Mangshan area, it should never have turned into a situation where every commoner was armed!

Gongsun Lan grumbled, "...That was just an accident."

"Fine, let’s not talk about accidents—only facts." As he spoke, Cui Hao gestured to a nearby soldier and borrowed a short stick.

Frowning, Gongsun Lan watched as the other man started drawing battle lines in the dirt.

At first, he barely glanced, but upon closer inspection, he realized Cui Hao was replaying the fight he had just fought.

The formation of chariots before the Luo River was drawn in the sand, displaying Liu Yu’s infantry maneuvers right before Gongsun Lan’s eyes.

"Tell me, how would you take this guy on?"

Cui Hao looked up. "Don’t tell me he couldn’t set up like this north of Luoyang."

Anyone capable of organizing such a defense would surely adapt to the terrain and cook up new tricks.

Gongsun Lan did not answer, but he didn’t argue—which said everything.

He had accepted Cui Hao’s judgment.

The young strategist of the Northern Dynasty turned his gaze back to the sand. "I admit that in this surprise attack on Luoyang, I lost to Liu Yu. But I do not admit that the battle for Luoyang’s fate is lost!"

"Then tell me, what should we do now?" Gongsun Lan asked. "Just sit on our asses hugging these hills?"

If the reinforcements arrived and saw this, they would mock him endlessly.

Cui Hao replied, "Split off some riders to scout the movements at Hangu Pass and support the men I dispatched there. If we can successfully get word to the King of Qin and coordinate his army’s swift entry through the pass, then our efforts—"

"Won’t be for nothing!"

…

Cui Hao’s plan was indeed not in vain.

The sudden southern offensive had made Gongsun Lan’s push from the north far smoother than expected.

Though this Qiang force had been successfully repelled—nearly annihilated—by Liu Yu, when this general, who lived up to the celestial screen’s praise, stood by the Luo River to count the losses, the brief relief on his face vanished once more.

The cost was too great…

The Qiang cavalry’s advantage had been minimized by his tactics, but these Qiang soldiers accompanying Cui Hao were elite troops who had rapidly crossed the Xiong’er Mountains. Even in the chaos of battle, they had displayed extraordinary lethality.

"You’ve done well enough, General. If only the chariots had been sturdier, the weapons and armor more refined…"

Liu Yu sighed. "Save the ‘what-ifs.’ Can we easily find terrain like that before the Luo River again?"

War allows no hypotheticals.

He should be grateful. The celestial screen had secured Luoyang’s public support, steadied morale, and prevented the desertions that often followed heavy casualties. That was why they had sent Cui Hao packing in one stroke.

But of his thousand elite fighters, nearly three-tenths were now wounded, and most of the rest were exhausted. It would be difficult to replicate their earlier success anytime soon.

It wasn’t just stamina—forced marches were fast, but supplies were always the greatest challenge.

Rations were running thin!

"These Qiang didn’t bring much either," Huan Xuan said, dismounting and approaching Liu Yu with a similarly weary expression. "I got one half-dead guy talking. Their Mr. Cui told them they’d find supplies in Luoyang—or, failing that, Yao Xing would reward them handsomely once he broke through the pass."

His usually haughty expression had collapsed. "We only found some jerky and hardtack. I’ll give you six out of ten shares?"

Liu Yu: "..."

That extra ten percent beyond an even split seemed to be Huan Xuan’s way of thanking him.

For someone of the Marquis of Chu’s noble blood, bowing to anyone but the Emperor was no small matter.

Still—

"Don’t nickel-and-dime it now. We’ve got plenty of trouble ahead." Liu Yu took a deep breath. "This ‘Mr. Cui’ you mentioned—who is he?"

Given how the Qiang had fled, this Mr. Cui was likely among the escapees. He had to ask.

Huan Xuan replied, "A blue-blood from the Cui clan of Qinghe. A retainer of Tuoba Gui, sent to persuade Yao Xing in Guanzhong, which led to this flanking maneuver. Oh, and another piece of bad news: if this Mr. Cui’s information is accurate, Tuoba Gui has returned to Pingcheng and crowned himself emperor."

Liu Yu wasn’t surprised. "If he wants to rally the north against His Majesty, declaring himself emperor is inevitable."

He only regretted that, as a member of the aristocratic families, Cui Hao naturally kept himself out of harm’s way. During the chaos of battle, he hadn’t led the charge like some glory-hound—otherwise, how could he have escaped alive!

As for Cui Hao’s identity, it seemed to represent a certain signal. But since the Emperor had never intended to compromise, she likely wouldn’t care about those who had now chosen opposition.

"One more thing," Huan Xuan added. "Before I intercepted them, they had already split off a force heading for Hangu Pass."

That was what truly darkened Liu Yu’s expression.

"When I arrived in Luoyang, I asked—the garrison at Hangu Pass is larger than Yique’s, but still only three hundred strong. If they hold the pass from the outside, they might delay for a while until reinforcements arrive from Luoyang. But if they’re attacked from within—"

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing the same grim realization.

The Qiang had already gone ahead. With their speed, they couldn’t be caught. Sending men now risked either reinforcing the pass’s defenders or pointlessly sacrificing lives.

With their forces stretched thin, every move had to be weighed carefully.

Especially since, before the battle, warning fires were already burning in the north.

The scouts he had sent north had not yet returned, but who knew if they would bring good news or bad.

Liu Yu was about to speak again when he suddenly heard distant shouts.

"General Liu—"

"...General!"

He quickly turned toward the sound and saw a group of about a hundred people coming from the north.

Apart from two scouts leading the way, the rest were Luoyang civilians.

Among them were a few who had held positions in his earlier battle formations, still wearing their armor, supporting several others covered in dust and blood. Behind them crowded the rest, who had gotten some sleep and regained some energy.

Liu Yu hurried forward two steps to meet them. "What's the situation to the north?"

"We couldn't stop them, but we didn't let them off easy either!"

The woman who spoke winced slightly as she talked, drawing attention away from her fierce expression to the arrow wound in her arm. Despite her thin frame—likely due to Luoyang's food shortages—she still carried herself like a warrior.

"That group has already crossed Mengjin and come through Mangshan. Damn that bare mountain—there wasn’t much in the way of obstacles like trees or rocks."

As she spoke, those behind her chuckled bitterly. "Can you blame the mountain? If there were even a single blade of grass left, we’d have pulled it up to burn or eat."

"Who said I was blaming the mountain?" She shot a glare backward. "If not for Mangshan, where would we get decent weapons?"

The arsenal’s weapons had been looted by generals of Han Zhao when they sacked Luoyang seventy or eighty years ago. Perhaps out of disdain, though they destroyed all the historical records and books in the Chongyang and Taiyang tombs to disrupt the Sima family’s imperial feng shui, they left behind some burial weapons and funerary statues, which could still be put to use.

Over thirty years ago, another group of grave robbers visited Chongyang Tomb. Since the weapons weren’t easy to sell, they left them untouched.

Liu Yu listened in astonishment to the back-and-forth before him.

One mentioned how difficult it was to quarry stones, so tombstones worked better.

Another said coffin wood was strong and could be split into shields.

Yet another remarked that the weapons buried in tombs must have been there for a reason—several had broken, but tossing them down the mountain still caused some damage.

He took a step back and asked Huan Xuan, "Whose tomb is Chongyang Tomb?"

Huan Xuan answered succinctly, "...Sima Zhao. When grave robbers struck before, the Jin Dynasty only sent people for quick fixes. The collapsed chambers weren’t rebuilt—at most, the imperial clan observed mourning in white for a few days."

Liu Yu: "..."

His silence finally caught the attention of those speaking, and the discussion quieted. "General Liu, do you think we’ve gone too far?"

But if they hadn’t been pushed to this point, why would they go this far?

No one wanted to live like this. Why was it so hard for them?

When they first broke into the tombs, they weren’t sure if they should take this step. But when blood splattered on their enemies, it felt like their own blood had started flowing again.

The dead were never as important as the living. Those laughable old emperors had long lost any power to make them bow.

She had watched as the tombstone smashed down, the unfamiliar inscriptions shattering—along with a Xianbei man’s skull.

It was a sight burned in her memory!

They had pushed forward blindly, one after another, toward Mangshan. Many had died, but the enemy would not easily march on Luoyang and turn them into war trophies.

"No, there’s no such thing as going too far," Liu Yu replied firmly. "If you dug them up, too bad for them. Their descendants don’t even want to reclaim Luoyang. If their burial goods can stop the barbarians from invading south, they’ve at least made themselves useful for Luoyang."

After getting details on the northern situation, he felt even more relieved. These Luoyang civilians had risen up to protect their last home, delaying the Qiang and Xianbei forces from converging in Luoyang.

He couldn’t imagine what would have happened if enemies had attacked from behind while he was fighting Cui Hao.

No—no need for hypotheticals. They had to keep moving forward.

"I’d like to ask for your help one more time," Liu Yu said, wiping dust from his face and shaking off his earlier complex feelings.

Meeting the eager eyes before him, his weariness faded slightly.

He recognized the fire in those gazes—the desire to control their own fate.

A voice rose from the crowd: "General Liu, just tell us what to do, and we’ll follow!"

"Good!" Liu Yu praised loudly. "The Emperor's already coming to Luoyang. Before she arrives, we must find a way to take back Hangu Pass!"

…

The Emperor was indeed on her way.

News of the back-to-back fights in Luoyang had not yet traveled south fast enough to reach Wang Shenai.

But in Jing Province, where rivers ran through but plains dominated, the army’s advance was not slow.

After the three-stage transport mission from Nan Commandery toward Luoyang was assigned, the accompanying troops were relieved of much of their supply duties and could march faster.

Bian Fanzhi thought the three-route competition was a smart play—and he wasn’t wrong.

Jing Province officials, like those at court, were split into factions.

Though many still had trouble adjusting to the new ruler, none wanted to fall behind their peers—especially the laggards, who feared being scapegoated if Luoyang fell.

Half a month after landing at Nan Commandery, Wang Shenai had already halted at the Ru River.

The army was in orderly formation, supply wagons trailing behind, with none of the hardship typical of winter campaigns.

According to earlier reports from Huan Xuan and Liu Yu, crossing the river ahead would bring them to where Huan Qian had been ambushed by the Qiang.

The Eight Passes were still distant, but the outline of mountains on the horizon hinted at the boundary between north and south.

Fu Yan reined in his horse beside Wang Shenai. "Your Majesty called for me?"

Wang Shenai pointed northwest. "You know Guanzhong better than I do. Tell me what you think: if I were to send troops back along the path the Qiang took to attack here, could it be done?"

"Starting from here, with our supply lines."

Fu Yan noted how heavily Wang Shenai emphasized "here."

The supply lines stretching behind them and the steady march of the army gave her the right to ask this question!