Chapter Sixty-One: More Traps Await

A sergeant dashed ahead to meet Dou Hua, who was leading his troops at a brisk pace. With a long neigh, he reined in his horse, circled once on the official road, then continued running alongside Dou Hua toward Tongguan, raising his voice to report, “General, our vanguard has reached Huayin. There are eighty li left before we arrive at Tongguan! General Tong inquires whether we should pause for a brief rest?”

“Eighty li more. It seems we can reach Tongguan before nightfall!” Dou Hua slowed his mount slightly, gazing at the soldiers still marching swiftly along the road. He could not help but sigh in admiration before issuing his command: “Order the troops to rest briefly at Huayin. Once they have replenished food and water, we move out at once!”

It was nearly noon and the heat was stifling. The soldiers could no longer advance at full speed, but rather at a reasonable, sustained pace. They had already marched briskly for over an hour; both men and horses were weary and drenched in sweat, desperate for water and food.

Cursed weather—if not for this, they would not be so bedraggled. The oppressive heat meant Dou Hua could not command an all-out run; if he did, in half an hour many horses would collapse along the way, never to rise again, and many soldiers would fare no better.

In this sweltering climate, to maintain their pace and avoid large numbers of men or horses succumbing, frequent rests and replenishing food and water were essential. The copious sweat meant hydration was a non-negotiable necessity for both man and beast.

Fortunately, many experienced officers served in the army, and yesterday’s afternoon march had provided further lessons. They devised a method alternating between fast and slow progress, with short rests, ensuring the entire force could move swiftly without losing lives to heat and exhaustion. The principle that haste makes waste was well known, but when faced with crisis, only the truly experienced knew how to act.

Yet even the most seasoned commander could not help but feel anxious in such circumstances. It was not only Dou Hua who wished he could sprout wings and fly to Tongguan; all his officers and soldiers under his command felt the same. But anxiety was futile—there was no shortcut to cover the two hundred and seventy-eight li between Chang’an and Tongguan.

The night brought coolness, but visibility was poor and the moon was veiled in clouds. With three thousand men and horses on the move, speed was impossible. After marching all last night, they had covered less than a hundred li, and with the previous afternoon’s progress, they were now about two hundred li from Chang’an. The remaining eighty li would test these three thousand soldiers to their limits. All had been marching continuously with great physical toll, and none had slept the previous night. Who could say how much fighting strength would remain upon reaching Tongguan?

If they pushed themselves to the brink, they might reach Tongguan only to collapse upon the city walls, unable to fight at all.

But everyone understood—the defenders at Tongguan awaited their reinforcements with desperate hope. They must strive to reach the city as soon as possible and ensure they had strength left to fight upon arrival!

As Dou Hua led his men, he also sent scouts to gather information. Reports relayed via post stations had given him a rough idea of the situation ahead—Tongguan was still in the hands of the Great Tang’s army and had not yet fallen.

From the latest intelligence, Tongguan had not reached its most perilous moment. The rebels had not even begun assaulting the new city walls. So long as they could quicken their pace, they would surely reach the new city before it fell.

Zhang Jian, a trusted aide of Yang Guozhong, shared Dou Hua’s anxious mood. The five thousand men he commanded were advancing at a pace similar to Dou Hua’s, galloping along the official road. They lagged by about forty li, roughly an hour’s ride behind.

Nearing noon, the great fire within Han Tongguan city had almost burned itself out.

At several gates, the flames were dying down, though some wooden structures within still smoldered. At this time, Cui Qianyou ordered Li Qian and Cheng Wei, both colonels commanding the vanguard, to lead their troops through the ruined east and south gates, aiming to control the remaining fires and occupy the devastated Han Tongguan city.

This stronghold was to serve as a staging post for their assault on Sui Tongguan city: a place for reinforcements and supplies to assemble, and a fallback point should the front lines be forced to retreat. In the event the Tang army counterattacked after gaining the advantage, this city would also serve as a bastion of resistance.

However, once Li Qian and Cheng Wei entered Han Tongguan city again with their troops, they realized Cui Qianyou’s plans were somewhat fanciful.

Near the gate openings, everything was in utter ruin. The wooden gates had vanished without a trace, the gate towers on the walls were destroyed, and most of the city’s buildings had been consumed by fire, with some still burning. Han Tongguan city was utterly devastated!

Should their assault on Sui Tongguan fail and the Tang forces counterattack, this ruined city would be of little use—unless immediately repaired.

After reporting their findings to Cui Qianyou, Li Qian and Cheng Wei ordered their troops to carefully enter the city.

Entering required clearing away the charred debris at the gate openings and nearby, as the remnants—some still burning—were dangerously hot and could easily cause burns. The heaps of straw at the gates had caught fire, and those who charged in—men and horses alike—were burned to cinders, indistinguishable from the remnants of straw and wood. The rebel soldiers, pale with dread, gingerly cleared the ashes.

Whether it was the east gate, the south gate, or the north gate—opened by rebel soldiers who had entered without major fighting—the scenes were much the same: devastation too grim to behold.

Those who perished in the fire were all rebel soldiers; not a single Tang soldier was among the dead.

When Pang Zhong and Li Fude withdrew their troops from Han Tongguan, they did not leave the city entirely unguarded. As the two thousand men withdrew in succession, they left behind several dozen death-defying warriors at key points throughout the city. These men, resolved to die, were tasked with igniting the straw and barrels of oil as soon as the rebels broke in. They never intended to escape, planning instead to die with Han Tongguan city. The disturbances—signal arrows and other distractions used at night to mislead the rebels—were their doing.

However, events unfolded better than expected. When the rebels stormed the city, the suspended oil lamps and candles ignited the combustibles, wreaking havoc among the invaders. These warriors, having set fires in multiple locations, seized the chaos to slip out through the west gate, escaping back to Sui Tongguan city without a single casualty.

Those rebel soldiers who died in the inferno were left as ashes scattered throughout Tongguan city, cleared away like so much refuse.

But as the rebels finished clearing the debris from the gate openings and opened the way into the city, sending in their main force, an unexpected disaster occurred.

Not far from the gates, they encountered traps hidden in the ground. The cavalry in the lead triggered the mechanisms—dozens of riders and their mounts plummeted into pits lined with sharpened bamboo and wooden stakes. Horses and men alike were impaled on these deadly spikes, some pierced clean through by one or several sharp stakes.

Some died instantly with a scream; others, not killed outright, thrashed in agony, their cries and wails echoing without end.