Chapter 31: The Tedious War

After the military council dispersed, Shi Shouxin returned to his tent and sat quietly on a straw mat.

Jiang Shu’s surrender was undoubtedly genuine. But whether to take action or not was a matter worthy of careful consideration.

As he toyed with a small wooden block in his hand, pondering the strategy, Du Yu lifted the tent flap and entered. Shi Shouxin quickly ordered his guards to stand outside, forbidding anyone from approaching.

“During the council just now, I noticed Dandang’s troubled expression. Do you think this matter is unwise?” Du Yu asked gravely.

Shi Shouxin had once saved him from the Yellow River, a life debt he could never forget. Moreover, Shi was honest and reliable, someone to entrust with great responsibility.

Du Yu didn’t fully trust Hu Lie, seeing him as brave but lacking in wisdom and knowledge. In contrast, Shi Shouxin often offered insightful advice, demonstrated in several previous campaigns. Not only was he a comrade, but also a clever one—such a person was indispensable in their alliance.

“If we seize Yang’an Pass, the battle will become a deadlock with no way out,” Shi Shouxin sighed deeply, shaking his head helplessly.

He was no longer the reckless swordsman from two years ago, ready to fight anyone. Now he had a family—a wife and a mistress—and could not ignore their well-being by acting rashly.

“What do you mean by a deadlock?” Du Yu’s face darkened; the term spelled trouble.

“A deadlock is an unsolvable situation where all involved perish together. This should concern Zhong Hui and his men, not us. But when the great house collapses, even the smallest weeds beneath it are crushed. How could someone as insignificant as me not worry?”

Du Yu bowed respectfully. “I do not fully understand, but I am eager to hear your explanation.”

Shi Shouxin glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, then leaned in to whisper, “Yuankai, I ask you honestly: what is the true purpose of this campaign against Shu? You are the general’s brother-in-law; surely this is no secret?”

Du Yu nodded wryly. “It is, of course, to help the general change the dynasty and build his prestige.”

Since they were comrades sharing the same fate, there was no need to maintain any pretense.

“Exactly,” Shi Shouxin continued. “If Yang’an Pass falls, then Jiange will lie right beneath Wei’s nose.”

“That’s right,” Du Yu confirmed.

“Jiange is a formidable defense, but it is the last barrier. If its commander is bribed and the pass breached, Shu will face utter disaster. Holding Yang’an Pass would allow our troops to rely on local supplies and manpower in Hanzhong to harass the Jiange front indefinitely. If we fail today, we try tomorrow; if not this month, next month; if not this year, then next year. There’s a saying—while there are thieves for a thousand days, there’s no defending against thieves for a thousand days. Military strategy teaches that prolonged defense will inevitably fail. If Shu loses a few soldiers each day, morale will collapse over time.

“Capture Yang’an Pass, and Hanzhong is ours. Lose Hanzhong, and Shu cannot survive. It’s only a matter of time. In other words, taking Yang’an Pass opens the box that will destroy Shu. Whether the general wishes to or not, Shu’s downfall is inevitable. The entire political landscape will change drastically. Who could have imagined all these changes would be triggered by tomorrow’s battle?” Shi Shouxin said solemnly.

Du Yu’s hairs stood on end. Only those familiar with Sima Zhao’s predicament could grasp the severity of the situation.

Sima Zhao himself held only the title of Grand General. After Zhong Hui takes Hanzhong, he would promote Zhong Hui and other generals, some possibly outranking Sima Zhao. Would Sima Zhao then have to bow before them or sit at a child’s table during banquets?

Although time might ease this—perhaps a year or two—if Shu loses Yang’an Pass and subsequently Jiange, opening its gates wide, the glory of Shu’s destruction would surely be credited to Zhong Hui. Would Zhong Hui be granted a princely title? Would the generals who conquered Shu be ennobled as marquises or become ministers?

If many outranked Sima Zhao, how amusing that would be.

Shi Shouxin added, “If Yang’an Pass is not taken, and the general is made Duke of Jin, Zhong Hui can govern Hanzhong from afar, and peace may hold. But if Yang’an Pass falls, Zhong Hui’s life may be at risk. If Wei conquers Jiange, Zhong Hui will almost certainly die, possibly taking many others with him.”

Though Shi’s words sounded alarmist, Du Yu raised not a single objection. As Sima Zhao’s brother-in-law, Du Yu clearly had some insight.

He sighed, “If Zhong Hui were to stop now, merely claiming Hanzhong, this campaign could conclude perfectly, and the general would be pleased. But General Hu has already decided to advance tomorrow. What happens next cannot be openly discussed.”

“Your words are truly enlightening,” Du Yu said.

Jiang Shu’s surrender seemed trivial but actually affected the entire situation.

Yet neither Shi Shouxin nor Du Yu commanded troops or held position in Sima Zhao’s headquarters. What more could they do? Should they sabotage Jiang Shu’s defection and aid Shu instead?

“Yuankai, I suddenly thought of a riddle: Something you see but would not buy, buy but would not use, and use but do not realize what it is. What is it?”

Shi Shouxin’s face twisted as if recalling something amusing yet grim.

“Seen but not bought, bought but not used, used but unknown... That must be a coffin,” Du Yu said with an awkward smile, then froze. The answer was ominous—coffins were for the dead.

“Maybe we should tell General Hu not to cooperate with Jiang Shu tomorrow,” Du Yu suggested quietly.

Shi Shouxin shook his head. “There are spies loyal to Zhong Hui in the army. If this leaks, we might be accused and punished. Let fate take its course.”

“Yes, let it be,” Du Yu agreed after some thought. When the sky falls, a taller person will bear the weight—it’s not their burden to shoulder.

“If Zhong Hui leads the army into Shu, the general will suspect him of plotting to establish his own rule there. Zhong Hui will suspect the general suspects him, and may rebel preemptively. The intrigues of the heart cannot be explained in a few words. If we truly enter Shu with the army, we must stand together through thick and thin.” Shi Shouxin said meaningfully.

Du Yu nodded solemnly, saying nothing. The threat was real and obvious; when chaos erupted, laws and ranks meant nothing—only those who commanded troops with resources and decisiveness would prevail.

In times of turmoil, the only trustworthy are one’s own people.

***

It was a sleepless night.

If one knew death might come tomorrow, could they sleep at all?

Hard to say.

Hu Lie slept soundly, but the novice generals Shi Shouxin and Du Yu lay awake, burdened by worries of the coming battle and the campaign against Shu.

Their hearts were not so big; the night was filled with anxious thoughts.

At dawn’s first light, the camp drums thundered loudly.

“Bad news—the troops are being assembled!” Du Yu’s face changed. They had guarded the tent all night, whether discussing strategy or chatting idly, yet at daybreak the camp suddenly called the roll!

Three hundred drumbeats without reaching the command tent meant a slow arrival—punishable by death.

Du Yu dashed from the tent towards his own quarters. Shi Shouxin, commanding only a hundred military police, calmly ordered his men to form ranks.

The assembly was earlier than expected.

Shi Shouxin found this odd but, having never fought in ancient wars before and only heard secondhand accounts, decided to observe quietly.

Warfare in this era differed greatly from the tales of the Three Kingdoms. For example, “dueling generals” was rare. When Guan Yu beheaded Yan Liang, it was not a one-on-one duel but a chaotic battle where the head was taken amidst the fray. When large armies clashed, if forces were inferior and morale weak, even the most heroic general was powerless.

Thump, thump, thump! The drums grew increasingly urgent.

Shi Shouxin adjusted his clothes and calmly entered the command tent. Hu Lie sat at the head seat, generals arrayed on both sides, with others arriving from around the camp.

He stood near the tent entrance, lowering his head silently to await orders.

With the drums ceased, several executioners stood outside ready to seize any tardy commanders without question.

“Hu Yuan, if troops emerge from Yang’an Pass, you shall lead forces to meet them. If the enemy vanguard carries a white flag, let them pass,” Hu Lie instructed his eldest son.

The order stiffened the army’s resolve. Father and son fighting side by side showed Hu Lie’s careful intentions; no officer dared disobey.

Shi Shouxin watched secretly, learning a lesson. Though Hu Lie earned the label “reckless” from Du Yu, his command style was skillful and pragmatic, not ignorant. His troop deployments were precise.

“The rest of you will remain with me in the center to hold formation. Du Yu will lead the rear guard with his troops; Shi Shouxin will accompany him. Any deserters will be dealt with according to military law,” Hu Lie ordered concisely.

Du Yu, Sima Zhao’s brother-in-law and not a frontline fighter, was naturally placed at the rear. Shi Shouxin’s role was similar—a supervisor behind the main force, enforcing discipline.

All officers acknowledged the orders and marched out in single file.

Hu Lie approached Shi Shouxin and Du Yu, patting their shoulders. “Stay behind the main army, help hold the line, capture stragglers and fleeing Shu soldiers. With Jiang Shu as our inside man, this battle should be manageable, but unexpected things can happen. If our army collapses, do not try to support the front—retreat to camp and defend.”

For Hu Lie, having Shi Shouxin and Du Yu on the battlefield was necessary to avoid accusations of favoritism, yet he could not risk them charging into battle. Arranging their roles required tact.

One had to admit, Hu Lie’s battlefield command was adept and politically savvy.

“Understood!” Shi Shouxin and Du Yu bowed and took their orders, then departed.