The Blood Crown - Chapter 317

Chapter 317

When Yan Sikong and Liang Huiyong arrived at the city wall, they were momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the sight of the vast, dark army stretching endlessly before them.

Memories from twenty-one years ago surfaced. Back then, they had stood on this very wall, facing the same enemy and vowing to defend the same land. Was this a cycle of fate? Otherwise, why did these bloody tragedies keep repeating themselves?

Yan Sikong vividly remembered the fear he felt the first time he saw an army closing in. He was so terrified his legs went weak, but Yuan Mao gripped his shoulder firmly and told him in a deep voice, “It’s human to fear, but you must not retreat.”

Thus, Yuan Mao led a small, isolated force and drove back Zhuo Letai’s army of 100,000, never retreating even when struck by arrows.

Now, Zhuo Letai had returned with an even larger army and the fire of revenge. But Guangning had become a fortified city. If they could defend it back then, they would not let the enemy trample their mountains and rivers today.

Both sides had made full preparations for this day.

Liang Huiyong said solemnly, “Our survival hinges on this moment, Sikong. I believe that General Yuan’s spirit will protect Guangning and Liaodong.”

Yan Sikong looked up at the sky and murmured, “Father, we will not only defend the city but also put an end to Zhuo Letai and free the people of Liaodong from a century of suffering. Bless us…” And bless Feng Ye to survive this calamity.

At that moment, a single Jurchen soldier rode forward to the moat and shouted up at the wall, “By order of His Majesty, the Emperor of Great Jin, surrender and no harm will come to you. Refuse, and your entire city will be slaughtered!”

Yan Sikong looked down at the herald with a frosty expression. “Such arrogance and insolence. Clearly, Zhuo Letai is confident of his victory.”

Xu Feng cursed, “How dare these barbarians call themselves emperors! What a joke!”

The herald laughed, “Even babes in swaddling clothes can become emperors. You Han people are the real joke.”

Liang Huiyong shouted, “Archers, fire!”

A volley of arrows was unleashed, turning the herald into a human pincushion.

The Jurchen war drums thundered, and the drums atop Guangning’s walls responded, shaking everyone’s hearts.

Yan Sikong looked at the three “mountain walls” he had overseen during construction. Standing tall, they were like three sharp swords pointed at Zhuo Letai’s army. His blood boiled, and he clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

Come on. This time, I’ll tear you to pieces!

Zhuo Letai had brought at least 150,000 troops. Even after losing 20,000 in raids and pursuit of Feng Ye, he still had plenty left, with some guarding the camp. Having suffered a disastrous camp raid once before, he would undoubtedly be vigilant this time.

Guangning, on the other hand, had only 70,000 defenders.

But their morale was high. Once a mere backup city with a few thousand soldiers, Guangning had held off Zhuo Letai’s army of 100,000. Today, with high walls, a moat, and 70,000 troops, they had no reason to fear. This confidence was why they had lured Zhuo Letai to attack.

They would use this city to wear down Zhuo Letai’s army and his resolve.

In early spring, the weather remained bitterly cold. To prevent the moat from freezing, its water had been drained before winter, leaving a deep trench as the city’s first line of defense. However, due to terrain constraints, the moat was less than four zhang wide.

On the walls, archers and artillery crews stood ready, while others watched the approaching enemy, wondering how Zhuo Letai planned to cross the moat.

Ladders? Filling the trench? Zhanhan carts? The Jurchens lacked advanced machinery, and Zhanhan carts were rarely used due to their complexity, size, and difficulty of transport. With no water in the moat, floating bridges were useless. Would they use ladders or manpower to fill the trench?

Placing ladders over the moat would make them easy targets, and ultimately, the trench would be filled with corpses. This cruel yet effective method was not unheard of in history.

More commonly, sandbags were used to fill trenches. Soldiers pushed shielded carts loaded with sandbags and emptied them into the moat. While this method reduced casualties, it took ten days to half a month to complete.

Yan Sikong speculated that Zhuo Letai might use the ice blocks he had gathered from Huangshui to fill the trench.

They watched as the enemy formation split in the middle, and the central forces advanced.

On the walls, everyone gasped in astonishment.

Yan Sikong had only guessed half correctly. The Jurchens did push shielded carts to fill the trench, but the carts weren’t carrying sand or ice. Instead, they were loaded with yellow-brown objects, roughly the size of a drum and puffed up as if inflated. Each was about the size of a person, with a faintly translucent surface suggesting they were hollow inside. They were tied together in groups of seven or eight and laid horizontally on the carts. Judging by their appearance, they seemed very light.

What were these things?

Yan Sikong and Liang Huiyong exchanged bewildered looks.

The Jurchens shielded the carts tightly, protecting their contents as thousands of soldiers pushed them toward the moat.

Liang Huiyong asked nervously, “Sikong, you’re well-traveled and knowledgeable. Do you recognize them?”

Yan Sikong frowned. “Let me take a closer look.” He prided himself on his vast experiences and learning, but even he couldn’t identify these objects immediately.

The unknown brought fear. Though the soldiers said nothing, Yan Sikong could feel the subtle shift in their morale.

Liang Huiyong shouted, “Archers!”

All the archers drew their bows to full tension. The moment the Jurchen soldiers entered range, Liang Huiyong shouted sharply, “Release—”

A rain of arrows descended from the sky.

Twenty-one years later, Zhuo Letai and Guangning were at war once again.

The arrows filled the air, most embedding themselves in shields, while the rest pierced flesh or lodged into the strange yellow objects. Those objects immediately deflated upon impact, slowly collapsing.

As they reached the edge of the trench, the Jurchen soldiers untied the ropes, and the objects fell into the moat.

A sudden flash of insight struck Yan Sikong, and he shouted, “Sheepskin bladders!”

Sheepskin bladders were initially used by civilians who climbed inside them to float across rivers. Later, they were developed into leather rafts capable of carrying several people temporarily across water.

To make a sheepskin bladder, one would remove the entire hide of a ram intact from the neck without making any cuts. After removing the wool, the head, tail, and limbs would be tightly sealed, and air was blown in to inflate it. It was then repeatedly soaked and sun-dried to make it tough and durable. When several bladders were securely bound under wooden frames, they could float on water as “leather rafts.”

The sheepskin bladders were very lightweight, easy to transport when deflated, and about the size of a person when inflated. The Jurchens, who had relied on cattle and sheep for thousands of years, had no shortage of sheepskins. However, using sheepskin bladders for crossing rivers was a Han invention. That the Jurchens had thought to use them to fill trenches was truly astonishing!

Liang Huiyong also realized, “So it’s sheepskin bladders. How did the Jurchens come up with such a clever idea? Could it be…”

“Impossible,” Yan Sikong said coldly. “If Han Zhaoxing had such intellect, Liaodong wouldn’t have suffered so greatly under his hand. Zhuo Letai must have a brilliant strategist by his side, someone deeply versed in Central Plains culture.”

The arrows flew thick and fast as they tried to stop the Jurchen soldiers from approaching the trench. But as one group fell, another replaced them. The sheepskin bladders were light and large, and a small cart pushed by a single person could carry several. At this rate, the trench could be filled within a day!

Standing against the biting cold wind, cold sweat dripped from Yan Sikong’s forehead.

They had underestimated Zhuo Letai.

Twenty-one years ago, Zhuo Letai, then the Crown Prince of Jin, had recklessly led 100,000 troops into Liaodong, only to suffer a crushing defeat. This had always made them look down on him. Now, however, Zhuo Letai was over sixty, nearing old age and possibly nearing death. Yet he had personally led this campaign, showing his deep obsession with Guangning. After so many years of lying low and gathering strength, how could he come unprepared?

Xu Feng ran to Yan Sikong. “My lord, they’re filling the trench too quickly. At this rate, we won’t last until General Feng’s reinforcements arrive.”

Yan Sikong stared grimly at the sheepskin bladders piling up in the trench.

They had calculated that Zhuo Letai would need several days to cross the moat. By the time they dealt a devastating blow to Zhuo Letai’s forces under Guangning’s walls, Feng Changyue’s reinforcements would arrive to cut off his retreat and deal him a crushing defeat.

But at this current pace, Zhuo Letai could attack the city as early as tomorrow, forcing them into a hard fight. In the next few days, who knew how many additional casualties they would suffer?

Yan Sikong said in a deep voice, “Switch to fire arrows.”

At Liang Huiyong’s command, the archers switched to fire arrows. However, the fierce cold wind, coupled with their position downwind on high ground, caused most flames to extinguish upon lighting. Even those that remained were largely snuffed out after being shot.

Using cannons to strike the trench could indeed destroy the sheepskin bladders, but the cannons would also dislodge frozen earth, effectively filling the trench faster than the bladders.

All they could do was watch helplessly as the Jurchens continued to pile sheepskin bladders into the trench.

Zhuo Letai’s success depended on both time and terrain, and he had coincidentally secured both. The sky above them was Han territory, yet why did it seem heaven was not on Guangning’s side?

On one side of the trench, the war drums roared, each beat shaking the hearts of the soldiers. On the other side of the trench lay heaps of Jurchen corpses and a growing pile of sheepskin bladders.

Facing the blood-soaked battlefield, Yan Sikong couldn’t help but think of Feng Ye in his chambers within the city—was he also locked in a bloody struggle with the god of death?

With a mortal enemy ahead and Feng Ye’s uncertain fate behind, Yan Sikong stood on the city wall, feeling as though both retreat and advance led to the abyss.

The battle raged from dawn until nightfall. The Jurchens, at the cost of countless lives, had completely filled Guangning’s trench. Their army, equipped with trebuchets, ladder carts, and cannons purchased from the Han, surged toward Guangning’s walls.

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Merry Christmas~~ Though it seems the day has already passed…