Chapter Thirteen

The cannons thundered; at this moment, the Han army had hauled all the crimson heavy artillery originally assigned to each gate and concentrated them outside the western gate, unleashing a furious bombardment. The roar of the guns was so intense that one could no longer distinguish individual volleys—they merged into a continuous, rolling thunder. The western wall of Liaoyang was torn wide open, the parapets shattered, and fragments of stone and brick were hurled high into the air, soaring dozens of yards before plummeting in a deadly rain. Smoke billowed, flesh and blood flew where the shells landed, and from afar, it looked as if a volcano had erupted. The defenders wailed in agony, falling in droves. Caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, the Qing troops suffered devastating casualties.

Over four thousand musketeers marched in perfect formation, row upon row, advancing boldly to the moat without the slightest cover. Surrounded by a sea of corpses and blood, the soldiers moved forward with expressionless faces, treading over the dead with the numbness of the living dead. The defenders fought back desperately, loosing a storm of arrows and stones. Every cannon, musket, and matchlock on the wall fired at once, blasting the front ranks of the Han army to pieces. Yet the Han troops pressed forward as if oblivious, advancing mechanically with the beat of the drums. At the signal of several sharp whistles, the messengers galloped to and fro. The drums fell silent; the officers barked orders, and, as if at a drill, the musketeers raised their weapons and fired at the defenders atop the wall.

The cavalry surged forth, wave after wave, breaking through and slaughtering every Qing soldier at the breach. The defenders within the inner city loosed their cannons, muskets, and arrows in unison, yet the Han iron cavalry, eyes blazing with bloodlust, were undeterred, charging fearlessly. Again and again, they hurled themselves into the fray. The Qing, having cleared the inner city of obstacles to open their lines of fire, found their reserves could only manage two volleys before the Han horsemen broke through their positions.

Now, the sun was setting, the moon hung bright, and a gentle breeze swept over the dusk, where shadowy figures fought desperately in the growing gloom.

Lin Feng exhaled a long breath, tossed aside his binoculars, leapt onto his horse, and shouted, "Liaoyang has fallen! All of you, follow me forward!" Before his guards could stop him, he whistled sharply, spurred his steed, and galloped straight toward Liaoyang.

Hundreds of bodyguards, startled and alarmed, hurriedly followed, raising the great standard. The central tent and its several hundred cavalrymen closely pursued Lin Feng, charging toward Liaoyang.

Hooves thundered as the cavalry swept across the earth. The Han soldiers and militia who had yet to enter the city quickly made way, opening a path for their king. After only a few miles, a rider burst out from the city, heading straight for the great standard. Before he even drew near, he called out from afar, "Your Highness! The army has breached the city! The main Qing commander is surrounded in the Liaoyang Yamen!—Military Adjutant Mu sent me to report, awaiting your orders!"

Lin Feng paused, then understood. He had not expected the scholar-officers to so quickly bestow a nickname on the position of "chief of staff." Yet "military adjutant" had a certain ring to it. He looked up to see the messenger—a bodyguard cavalry officer—covered in blood, his face blackened by smoke, his features indistinct, but his eyes still shone with fierce light. Lin Feng felt instant goodwill and rode forward with a smile. "You've done well. What is your name?"

"Reporting, my lord, I am Second Lieutenant of the Bodyguard Cavalry..." He hesitated, a bit embarrassed. "My name is Ximen Fool..."

Lin Feng was taken aback, then burst out laughing. "Nonsense! How could your parents give you such a name?"

Ximen Fool licked his thick lips, scratched his head, and grinned sheepishly. "My lord, when I was a child, my family was so poor we had nothing to eat. My parents feared the King of Hell would take me, so they gave me the nickname 'Stupid Dog.' Later, when I grew up and became a butcher, I kept the 'Sha' sound from 'stupid' but changed the meaning to 'kill.' The teacher at the private school said butchers offend Heaven, so he advised me to change my name to Ximen Fool, to atone for my sins. Now, though, the brothers all call me 'Ximen Pig-Slayer!'"

Lin Feng laughed, "Excellent, Ximen Pig-Slayer is a fine name—much better than Ximen Fool!" His guards could not hold back their laughter and all burst out in mirth.

Ximen Pig-Slayer, a bit muddled, was irritated at being made fun of. He shouted, "Your Highness, my name may not be much, but I never play the coward in battle!" He glared fiercely at the guards around Lin Feng, boasting, "It was me who led the charge into Liaoyang just now—" He patted his saber proudly, spittle flying. "I hacked and slew, killed eleven Tartars myself, and led the brothers from the west gate all the way to the Yamen! Military Adjutant Mu said I earned the greatest merit!"

Lin Feng understood Mu Tianyan’s intent—clearly, Mu knew this fellow was a bit rough and sent him to report, likely to recommend him for reward. His smile faded slightly, and he nodded, "A true hero indeed." Turning to his staff, he issued orders: "Record this: Second Lieutenant Ximen Pig-Slayer of the Bodyguard Cavalry, diligent and brave, distinguished himself in the storming of the city. According to pre-battle rewards, he is promoted to Captain of Cavalry, granted two hundred mu of land, a house, and ten servants. He is admonished to remain humble and strive for further merit!"

Ximen Pig-Slayer was overjoyed, dropping to one knee. "Thank you, my lord!"

Lin Feng smiled and ordered him to lead the way. Hundreds of cavalrymen spurred their horses and thundered into Liaoyang, heading straight for the Yamen.

Seeing Lin Feng lost in thought, Mu Tianyan stepped forward and apologized, "I hold General Cai Yuru in high esteem, so I requested that Commander Rui temporarily halt the attack. I did so without your prior approval, and beg your pardon, my lord!"

Lin Feng nodded with a smile, "What fault is there? General Cai Ren'an is both wise and brave; I have admired him for a long time. His couplets are well-matched and greatly please me!"

Rui Ke removed his helmet, suddenly sighing deeply. "Your Majesty, I sent someone to urge them to surrender, but they refused. I am sorry—I cannot face General Cai. As a knight, I have gone against all my principles. It is truly shameful!"

Lin Feng fell silent, and the two men were speechless; the air grew awkward and tense.

Sensing his lord’s discomfort, Mu Tianyan quickly called out toward the inner courtyard, "General Ren'an, Master Yao! The Han King is here—will you not show yourselves?"

After a moment’s creaking, two figures climbed the wooden ladder to the top of the wall. Lin Feng looked up; the man on the left was spattered with blood, a white cloth wrapped around his forehead, yet the blood still seeped through and dripped down his face. The man on the right wore a simple blue robe, his features refined. Though besieged and at the brink of death, his face bore a mocking smile as he regarded Lin Feng without a care.

Lin Feng was silent for a long while, then sighed deeply and shook his head with a bitter smile. "Forgive me, General—when the arrow is on the string, it must fly."

Cai Yuru gave a bleak smile. "I am guilty before Heaven—out of selfishness, I have brought disaster upon the city. Now that we are defeated, how can I live on in shame? Your Highness, I appreciate your kindness." He turned to Yao Qisheng, saluted, and said quietly, "Brother Xizhi, let me go first." With that, he drew his sword and slashed his own throat. Blood spurted, his body swayed, and he collapsed from the wall.

His comrade slain, Yao Qisheng did not even glance at him. He wiped the blood from his face with a nonchalant grin. "Your Highness, for the sake of a million starving refugees, you dismantled the imperial palace, rebelled against the Confucian code, and used merchants to provide relief. Your name for benevolence is known throughout the land. Why, then, show mercy to some and massacre the whole of Liaoyang?"

Lin Feng gave a bitter smile. "The times have changed."

Yao Qisheng laughed loudly, pointing at Lin Feng from afar. "Are you not afraid that after this slaughter, you will be condemned by all under heaven as a cruel tyrant?"

"A true man must bear responsibility," Lin Feng replied, head held high and eyes steady. "The sages said, ‘Though a thousand stand against me, I go forth.’ As king, how could I hesitate at the crucial moment? The realm is in chaos, our people suffer endlessly—if extraordinary means are not employed, when will there be peace? Destruction must precede renewal. With your talent, do you not know this?"

Yao Qisheng nodded, still grinning. "Well said, you make a fine argument." He winked at Lin Feng, sighing, "Alas, I had planned to join you; that wretched stud-farm office was tedious beyond belief. Unfortunately, Dakema promoted me first. What a pity!"

Lin Feng was startled, then delighted, "It is not too late to join me now!"

Yao Qisheng shook his head, chuckling. "Too late, too late." He gestured at Cai Yuru’s corpse. "Did you see? That fellow was mocking me just moments ago. Can I let him have the last laugh in the underworld? Besides, I am still the magistrate of Liaoyang. Now that the city has fallen and its people are slaughtered, how could I live on in honor?"

He straightened his clothes, suddenly grew solemn, and bowed deeply to Lin Feng. "Your Highness, your words are wise—I am enlightened." With that, he threw himself from the high wall and died instantly, his brains dashed out.

Lin Feng was shaken, staring blankly at the two mutilated corpses, his heart heavy with bitterness.

The torches crackled, the soldiers held their breath, and outside the Yamen, the army stood in silent formation. For a moment, all was still.