Chapter Forty-Seven: The Situation of the Reinforcements

Yang Xi anxiously wondered when the reinforcements would arrive, while those in the vanguard hoped to reach Tongguan as soon as possible. Dou Hua and Zhang Jian, leading the advance units, had given strict orders for their soldiers to march at the fastest speed attainable.

“General, there are many refugees fleeing ahead, blocking the main road. Our advance is being hindered!” A soldier ran swiftly to Dou Hua, who was riding with his personal guard in the center, loudly reporting the situation.

“Understood!” Dou Hua reined in his mount, his brows tightly furrowed. Without hesitation, he shouted, “Order the refugees on the main road to be dispersed immediately. Anyone who obstructs the passage—execute without mercy!”

“Yes, General!” The reporting soldier loudly went to relay Dou Hua’s orders.

With Dou Hua’s command, chaos erupted on the main road. Tang soldiers, their blades gleaming, rode at breakneck speed, shouting loudly as they charged forward, paying no heed to those in their path. If anyone lingered in the middle of the road, blocking the army’s progress, the soldiers’ swords would strike without delay.

Most of these were common folk fleeing from Tongguan and its surroundings toward Chang’an, mingled with a few scattered soldiers who had already become jittery and fearful. At the sight of the rapidly advancing troops, the majority hurried to the roadside, yielding the way, not daring to compete with the soldiers for passage.

Yet inevitably, some were slow to react or unable to move quickly enough, and when the soldiers came rushing by, they failed to escape in time.

Throughout history, the law of survival of the fittest prevails in most circumstances—even during flight from disaster. Those refugees who were slow or unable to evade often fell victim to the soldiers clearing the way; some were slain, others wounded. The severely injured who collapsed were trampled by the horses that followed, meeting their end.

No one spared a thought for these unfortunate souls. The Tang soldiers, charged with murderous intent, continued their swift advance toward Tongguan.

Despite this, the number of refugees on the main road was considerable, and their presence continued to affect the pace of the army, however slightly. The oppressive heat also slowed man and beast alike.

The progress of the troops fell short of expectations. Dou Hua, leading the force, was anxious to the point of desperation. Yang Guozhong’s repeated instructions before departure and the imagined scenes of misery in Tongguan weighed heavily on his heart, making him wish the thousands under his command could sprout wings and fly straight into the city to join the defense against the rebels.

Though Dou Hua’s force belonged to Chen Xuanli’s main reinforcements, they had set out nearly half a day earlier. As soon as the unit was assembled and the men and horses were ready, Yang Guozhong bypassed Chen Xuanli and directly gave the order to depart. Before Dou Hua’s army marched out, Yang Guozhong issued a strict command: move at the fastest possible speed—even if half the men and horses died, they must reach Tongguan swiftly.

Under such pressure, Dou Hua could only order the troops to march as fast as possible. Yet the refugees on the road and the unbearable heat made the effort feel futile.

Neither men nor horses could be pushed to their limits, lest the effort backfire. After marching a certain distance, they needed to slow down or rest briefly, otherwise many would collapse and die. Although Yang Guozhong’s orders were to reach Tongguan at all costs, even if half perished, Dou Hua knew that haste often leads to failure. To ensure that the three thousand men and horses would have the strength to join the defense upon arrival, he had to manage their stamina wisely, allowing for proper rest and maintaining a sustainable pace. Otherwise, if half died en route, the remainder would be unable to fight.

Dou Hua longed for the ample horses that Yang Xi’s force possessed, which allowed for alternating mounts and continuous travel. Yet with Chang’an lacking enough horses, he could not emulate Yang Xi’s strategy. It was worth noting that nearly ten thousand of the sixty thousand troops under Chen Xuanli had no horse at all and were forced to march on foot.

“The dream is full, but reality is harsh”—that sentiment likely echoed in many hearts. Despite his burning anxiety to reach Tongguan, Dou Hua could not help but mutter inwardly: had Geshu Han not been ordered to fight beyond the pass, there would not be this dire crisis at Tongguan, nor would Yang Xi and the subsequent forces be so frantic to rescue the city. The battle at Lingbao had already consumed all the troops stationed at and near Tongguan.

After a period of rapid marching, Dou Hua ordered the troops to slow down and arranged for both men and horses to replenish food and water.

Just then, another urgent plea for reinforcements arrived from Tongguan, delivered to Chang’an by a relay horse through the postal station. The soldier’s saddlebag, bearing three emergency feathered arrows and a red streamer, was a striking sight—shocking and ominous.

Wherever the messenger galloped, whether among refugees or Dou Hua’s own soldiers, people made way for him, not daring to contest the road.

This was the third relay horse carrying urgent news that Dou Hua had encountered since leaving Chang’an. Watching the messenger speed away with his military dispatch, Dou Hua felt the weight in his heart deepen. He could well imagine the crisis at Tongguan. He immediately summoned his deputy to inquire how far they had traveled and how much longer it would take to reach Tongguan.

“General, we have just left Chang’an by seventy li. We can reach Weinan before nightfall. If we march through the night, at the fastest pace, we could arrive at Tongguan by midday or afternoon tomorrow!” The deputy’s report made Dou Hua’s mood even heavier. After gazing at the distant columns for a moment, he barked, “Order the whole army: rest and replenish food and water at the next postal station. Once rested, accelerate the march, travel through the night, and do not stop again!”

With that, he snapped his whip and rode ahead. The deputy quickly passed Dou Hua’s orders down the ranks.

Dou Hua’s unit pushed forward rapidly, and Zhang Jian, who had left Chang’an an hour later, likewise ordered his men to advance at maximum speed.

Like Dou Hua, Zhang Jian was a close confidant of Yang Guozhong, promoted thanks to his favor. Both felt a strong sense of gratitude toward Yang Guozhong and dared not neglect or delay his urgent command to rescue Tongguan. They were determined to fulfill his trust to the utmost, reach Tongguan as quickly as possible, and provide reinforcement to Yang Xi.

Zhang Jian, like Dou Hua, had spent a fair amount of time in the army and knew a thing or two about leading troops. He understood that in such sweltering weather, forcing men and horses to run at full speed would lead to exhaustion and death. Thus, he did not order his soldiers to sprint relentlessly, but instead had them march at a pace sustainable for both men and horses, planning to accelerate further after nightfall when the air cooled, pressing on without rest.

In contrast to Dou Hua and Zhang Jian’s urgent anxiety, Chen Xuanli, commanding the main body of the reinforcements toward Tongguan, was not nearly as concerned. Harboring thoughts of reaping the rewards as a bystander, he did not push his soldiers to their limits. Compared with the vanguard units, the main force’s pace was much slower, especially for those marching on foot without horses, who lagged even further behind.

Fortunately, Yang Xi knew nothing of the state of the later reinforcements, nor of Chen Xuanli’s mindset; otherwise, he would surely have been driven to rage.

End of section.