IDWBE -Chapter 374 Professional City-Crashers

As for the other burly, bearded man, Wei Yishan guessed he must be Shen Zhanao. In this command tent, only he had the rank to sit below Yuan Qing and above Ji Zhuo.

“You’ve had a hard journey. Rise,” Shen Chu waved a hand. “We’re all brothers here—no need for such formality.”

“Thank you, General.”

Wei Yishan stood and continued, “Reporting to General: Young Master Ye and Young Master Wang have also arrived.”

“They’ve come as well?”

Shen Chu’s face lit up. “Where are they? Quickly invite them in!”

Not only Shen Chu—everyone in the tent straightened in excitement.

They had hesitated to storm the city because they feared martial arts experts inside—especially the legendary State Preceptor of Wadan, Ali.

Top-tier masters versus top-tier masters—they had little confidence.

But now that Ye Qiu and Wang Dong, two Grandmasters, had arrived—what was there to fear?

No matter how formidable Ali was, he couldn’t fight two Grandmasters at once, could he?

Only Yuan Qing and Shen Zhanao looked puzzled.

Who exactly were these “Young Masters Ye and Wang” to cause such excitement among the Sanhe generals?

Wei Yishan replied, “The two young masters are exhausted from travel and have already retired to rest.”

On this trip, he had brought not only two Grandmasters, but also over a thousand officials and laborers from Ankang City, all at Fifth Rank or above.

Shen Chu smiled faintly. “If the young masters are fatigued, I won’t disturb them.”

Grandmasters tired from travel?

Only a ghost would believe that.

The real reason was obvious—they simply didn’t consider him important enough.

But Grandmasters had that privilege. It wasn’t something he could take offense at.

Wei Yishan bowed to familiar generals and took a seat near the right side of the tent.

“Before departing, did Prince He or General He give any instructions?” Shen Chu asked.

Wei Yishan rose again. “General He said many in our army are southerners and may not adapt well to the northern frontier climate. Once the weather turns colder, they will certainly suffer. We must aim for a swift victory.”

As for Prince He—this was no longer Sanhe. It wasn’t as though one could see him whenever one wished.

The chieftain Kang Bao of the Lian tribe, bundled up like a bear, suddenly stood and shouted:

“It’s getting colder by the day! Last night I woke from the cold several times! Many have fallen ill—some still unconscious! I’ve heard it’ll snow in a month! We won’t last! If we’re fighting, let’s fight now! If not, I’m taking my men back to Sanhe. This cursed place is torment!”

“Bullshit!” Tao Yingyi snapped, rising from across Wei Yishan. “This is a land of good fortune! At least there aren’t giant cockroaches like in Sanhe. Those things nearly scared me to death!”

The tent burst into laughter.

“If you like it, you stay,” Li Shuai said in stiff official Mandarin without moving. “I leave. No one stop me.”

Wang Tuozi quickly interjected at Bao Kui’s urging, “We all serve Prince He. We advance and retreat together. Once we defeat Wadan, their ironware and herds of cattle and sheep will be ours.”

The tribal warriors—Li, Lian, Kuo, and others—weren’t numerous, but they had all trained in Sanhe. Their combat strength was formidable. Ten thousand of them were worth more than seventy or eighty thousand from the Yuan or Qi armies.

If they wanted to return home before winter snow, these tribes were indispensable.

Li Shuai gave no reply, tightened his clothing, and walked out.

Kang Bao and the other tribal leaders followed, leaving many empty seats behind.

“Lack of discipline,” Yuan Qing finally spoke. “General Shen indulges them too much.”

“They’re not formally my troops,” Shen Chu replied calmly. “It’s difficult to bind them by our military code. Prince He once said: their help is a favor; their refusal is their right. On the battlefield, General Yuan has seen their bravery. They fight one against ten.”

Shen Chu had mixed feelings about Yuan Qing.

As Prince He’s uncle, Yuan Qing often opposed the prince. Yet he bore no selfish motives and fought Wadan without reservation. Their great victories owed much to his strategies.

That was why Prince He trusted him with independent command.

“Since General Shen says so,” Shen Zhanao said coolly, “we shall obey.”

Shen Chu nodded. “Once Liangmatai falls, Hulagu’s main camp lies beyond. We cannot delay.”

Even if Sanhe troops were more resistant to cold due to their cultivation, there were limits. And not all soldiers were from Sanhe—many garrison troops from Yuezhou, Jingzhou, and Nanzhou were far weaker.

“We must seize the moment!” Tao Yingyi laughed. “Strike while the enemy retreats. I request to serve as vanguard!”

Though he had been promoted to Commander of Wuzhou, he relinquished it to return north and personally kill Wadan enemies.

“I request to serve as vanguard!” Wang Tuozi echoed.

“I concur!” Bao Kui added.

“Good!”

Shen Chu sprang to his feet.

He called out names one by one—Tao Yingyi, Bao Kui, Wang Tuozi, Han Long—every commander present except Yuan Qing and Shen Zhanao’s faction.

“To the laborers as well,” he said to Huang Daoji and Mo Shun. “Tomorrow we launch a saturation assault.”

A term learned from Prince He—continuous, overwhelming firepower.

With Ye Qiu and Wang Dong here, he had confidence. Master against master, elite against elite—he feared nothing.

“Understood!”

Everyone was exhilarated.

Sanhe troops rarely needed long campaigns. Strategy? Not much. Just charge.

Except for one setback at Daxi City, they had never been defeated.

Why drag this out? They were suppliers too—every extra day cost money.

“Full assault tomorrow!”

Shen Chu slammed his palm down, splitting the table in two.

“Understood!”

But suddenly Shen Zhanao shouted, “General, reconsider!”

Liangmatai was no great metropolis, but its walls were tall and moats deep, guarded by fifty thousand Wadan elites.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Yuan Qing added. “Bodu is no fool.”

Shen Chu smiled proudly. “You still worry because you’ve never seen how Sanhe takes a city.”

They had only attacked one proper city since leaving Ankang.

In siege warfare, Sanhe was professional.

Before dawn, Sanhe troops cooked their meals in lively bustle.

On Liangmatai’s walls, torches burned brighter.

Yuan Qing sighed. “Too obvious.”

“They’re determined,” Shen Zhanao muttered. “If Jinshan falls again and Wadan crosses the Liang River, the suffering will be the people’s. We would be criminals of Liang.”

“Prepare breakfast!” Yuan Qing suddenly ordered.

If Sanhe failed, Wadan would sweep into Liang unchecked.

Soon, campfires stretched seven or eight li westward.

On Liangmatai’s walls, Wadan soldiers gathered in increasing numbers. Buckets of oil, logs, and stones were piled high.

“Damn, I’m freezing!”

“This is torture!”

“Do they even want us alive?”

Sanhe soldiers huddled by fires, sleeves tucked in, grumbling.

Wang Tuozi complained to Huang Daoji, “My padded coat’s too thick. I can’t fit into my armor. Got a bigger size?”

“Where am I supposed to find one now?” Huang snapped. “Take it off. Climbing walls in that thing—you’ll split your pants and cost us more.”

“They’d rather get shot like porcupines than take off their coats,” Wang Tuozi retorted.

Meanwhile chaos erupted in the artillery camp—draft animals were sick, no one knew.

Garrison soldiers from Yuezhou and Jingzhou ran around half-dressed.

In contrast, the Yuan and Qi troops were orderly.

Tao Yingyi scoffed, “Didn’t General Shen say the garrison troops don’t need to fight? Why stir trouble?”

“Only you get glory?” Ji Zhuo laughed.

“Untrained men die in sieges,” Tao retorted.

Before he could say more, horns blared.

“Form ranks!”

Drums thundered.

The Sanhe banner snapped in the frigid wind.

“Kill!”

The cry rolled like thunder.

Mo Shun ordered fifty cannons forward.

At the signal, torches touched fuses.

Thunder roared. Flames filled the sky.

Hardly anyone heard Wadan’s screams.

At the next signal, Sanhe soldiers leapt forward—using lightness skills, swarming up the walls like ants.

“Madness!” Yuan Qing gasped. “Archers—cover them!”

No ladders. Just pure martial skill.

Shen Zhanao was equally furious—laborers were climbing too!

Wave after wave scaled the walls—unstoppable.

“Ram the gates!” Shen Zhanao shouted.

Before they could strike, the city gates suddenly swung open from within.

“Charge!”

Confused but seizing the moment, Shen Zhanao led his troops in.

Inside—firelight and corpses everywhere.

They had taken the city.

Just like that?

At dawn, drums sounded again—withdraw.

Both Yuan Qing and Shen Zhanao were dazed.

They knew Sanhe troops were strong—but to take a city so effortlessly?

This was a siege.

And yet Sanhe had done it as if it were nothing.

Aside from firing some arrows, they had merely stood by as spectators.