Han Ji

February. Yellow River.

The fog of dawn had not yet dissipated. The river was shrouded in a white mist, obscuring the opposite bank. Yuan Shao stood on the earthen platform at the Liyang ferry crossing, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The sound of water rushing through the fog could be heard.

The boat was moored at the shore. It was newly built; the tung oil on its hull hadn't fully dried, giving it a dull yellow sheen in the mist. Soldiers, carrying spears, shields, and sacks of provisions, climbed aboard the gangplank. The gangplank creaked underfoot; some slipped and fell into the shallow water, but got up and continued on.

Yan Liang stood at the bow of the first ship. He wore two layers of armor, an inner leather armor and an outer iron armor, his breastplate gleaming. In his hand he carried a long spear, its blade gleaming bluish in the mist. His face was square, with prominent cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a clean-shaven beard.

"The vanguard battalion." Yan Liang turned to look at his deputy. "How many men?"

The lieutenant said, "Ten thousand. Three thousand swordsmen and shieldmen, two thousand crossbowmen, and five thousand spearmen."

Yan Liang said, "That's enough. There are only three thousand garrison troops in Baima City. Liu Yan is useless; I can take it in half a day."

The lieutenant said, "General, our scouts report that Liu Bei has already mobilized his troops. Guan Yu is at Guandu, Zhang Fei at Hulao Pass, and Zhao Yun at Hanoi. They are all not far from Baima."

Yan Liang said, "Guan Yu. I've heard of him. It's said that his bravery is no less than Lü Bu's."

The lieutenant said, "Then what should we do?"

Yan Liang said, "There's no need to be afraid. Even Lü Bu might not be my match."

Yuan Shao descended from the earthen platform and walked to the ferry crossing. Ju Shou followed behind him, his steps slow, the soles of his shoes scraping against the stones with a soft rustling sound. Yuan Shao stood by the water, watching the fleet of ships.

"My lord," Ju Shou spoke up. "We're crossing the river today, and it's still dark. The fog is thick, and we can't see the other side. What if Liu Yan has set up an ambush on the other side?"

Yuan Shao didn't turn around. "Liu Yan? He has only three thousand men; how dare he ambush my two hundred thousand troops?"

Ju Shou said, "It's not Liu Yan. It's Liu Bei. Guan Yu has already reached Guandu, Zhang Fei is at Hulao Pass, and Zhao Yun is in Hanoi. Their combined forces number forty to fifty thousand. If our lord divides his troops to cross the river, the vanguard will only consist of Yan Liang's ten thousand men. If they concentrate their forces to attack Yan Liang, Yan Liang will not be able to withstand it."

Yuan Shao turned to look at Ju Shou. "Supervisor Ju, what do you suggest we do?"

Ju Shou said, "Wait until the fog clears before crossing the river. Once the fog has cleared and we can see the situation on the other side clearly, then let Yan Liang cross. Alternatively, let Wen Chou lead 5,000 cavalry across the river downstream, circle around to Baima from behind, and attack from both sides."

Yuan Shao said, "Wait for the fog to clear? Once the fog clears and it's light, the other side will be able to see us. Then the surprise attack will be impossible. I want to cross the river while the fog is still there and catch Liu Yan off guard."

Ju Shou said, "My lord, Liu Bei is not Liu Yan. Liu Bei has definitely already planted spies on the other side of the Yellow River. He will know when we cross the river."

Yuan Shao said, "So what if he knows? He knows I'm also going to cross the river. Can two hundred thousand troops stop me?"

Ju Shou fell silent.

Yan Liang jumped off the bow of the ship, walked to Yuan Shao, and knelt on one knee. "My lord, I request permission to be the vanguard. If I fail to capture Baima, I will bring you my head."

Yuan Shao looked down at him and thought for a moment. "Get up. The white horse is yours. After you capture it, wait for me in the city. Don't be reckless."

Yan Liang stood up. "Yes."

Yuan Shao turned and walked back to the earthen platform. His brocade robe fluttered in the river wind. He stood on the platform, watching the fleet. In the mist, boats left the shore one after another, their oars churning the water with a dull thud. The soldiers huddled in the cabins, clutching their weapons, and no one spoke. Someone coughed, then held it back.

Yan Liang jumped back onto the boat. The boat left the shore and headed towards the center of the river. The water was cold, and the waves were small, but the boat still rocked. The soldiers huddled in the cabin; some were seasick and covered their mouths.

Yan Liang stood at the bow of the boat, his spear planted in the deck, one hand supporting it. A cool mist brushed against his face. He squinted, trying to see the opposite bank, but could see nothing.

The opposite bank was white, the river surface was white, and even the Yellow River water looked grayish-white. There was only the splashing sound of oars stirring the water, one after another.

The boat traveled for about fifteen minutes. The river began to become murky, and the fog thinned somewhat. Yan Liang could see the opposite bank: gray mudflats, yellow earthen banks, and withered reeds growing on them. He couldn't see anything in the reeds.

"Get ready," Yan Liang said in a low voice.

The lieutenant relayed the order. Inside the cabin, the taxi drivers stood up and gripped their weapons. The swordsmen and shieldmen raised their shields to their chests, the archers drew their bows, and the spearmen extended their spear tips over the ship's side.

The boat docked. The hull scraped against the sand with a crunch. Yan Liang was the first to jump out, his boots splashing through the mud with a soft, wet sound, splattering mud all over his legs.

Suddenly, a volley of arrows rained down from the reeds. There weren't many, just a few dozen scattered arrows. Yan Liang's shield-bearers blocked most of them, but some were still hit.

The arrow was stuck in the armor, but didn't penetrate, hanging precariously on the body. One man was shot in the neck and fell down, blood flowing from beside the arrow shaft, staining the yellow mud on the riverbank red.

"Charge!" Yan Liang roared. His voice was muffled in the fog.

The swordsmen and shield bearers charged into the reeds. The reeds were trampled down, rustling loudly. Hidden in the reeds were the garrison of White Horse City, numbering probably several hundred.

After they fired their arrows, they began to run. Yan Liang's men chased after them and cut down several of them. Screams of agony came from the reeds, short and sharp, like chickens being strangled.

Yan Liang stood on the riverbank, watching his soldiers rush out of the reeds and onto the embankment. Above the embankment was the official road, which led directly to Baima City. The outline of Baima City was already visible; it wasn't high, and several flags with the character "Liu" written on them were planted on the city walls, fluttering lazily in the wind.

"A besieged city," Yan Liang said.

Ten thousand men surged ashore from the riverbank, dividing into four groups and surrounding Baima City. The city's garrison saw this and quickly closed the city gates. The gates slammed shut against the frame with a loud bang.

Some civilians outside the city were unable to enter and were locked out, pounding on the city gates and crying out. The guards ignored them and bolted the gates shut.

Yan Liang mounted his horse and rode to the foot of the city wall. The guards on the wall looked down, their faces pale. Some drew their bows, aiming at him, but dared not release an arrow.

Yan Liang looked up and shouted towards the city wall, "Listen up, people inside the city! I am Yan Liang, a great general under Lord Yuan! Open the gates and surrender, and you will be spared! If you do not surrender, after the city falls, not a single one of you will be spared!"

No one answered from the city wall. After a while, an arrow was shot down. The arrow flew weakly and landed a few steps in front of Yan Liang's horse, embedding itself in the ground, its fletching still trembling.

Yan Liang glanced at the arrow, turned his horse around, and returned to camp.

Inside Baima City, Liu Yan stood on the city wall, looking at the densely packed Yuan Shao army camps outside. Tents stood one after another, neatly arranged, stretching from the city walls into the distance. Smoke rose from the chimneys, the white smoke drifting against the gray sky, forming a continuous expanse.

Liu Yan's palms were sweaty, and he rubbed his hands back and forth on the hilt of the knife, which was soaked with the leather strap.

"Have the people who requested help been sent out yet?" he asked his adjutant.

The lieutenant said, "They've been dispatched. Two groups. One group is heading to Guandu to find Guan Yu. The other is heading to Luoyang to find the General."

Liu Yan said, "Send more. Send a few more. What if they get intercepted?"

The lieutenant turned and ran away.

On the sixth day of the second lunar month, Guan Yu was at Guandu.

The Guandu camp was fortified. A deep ditch was dug ten feet deep, and the earth was piled up behind the ditch to form a high platform with arrow towers on it. Archers stood in the arrow towers, arrows nocked on the strings, their fingers red from the cold.

Guan Yu stood at the camp gate. He wore a blue robe, but no armor, only a fur coat. His Green Dragon Crescent Blade lay on a rack beside him; the blade was nine feet long and gleamed with a dark blue light. His face was very red, not from sun exposure, but naturally so. His beard was long, reaching his chest, and fluttered in the wind over his shoulders.

A personal guard ran in from outside the camp and knelt on one knee. "General, urgent news from Bai Ma!"

Guan Yu took the bamboo slip and unfolded it. The letter was written by Liu Yan himself, the handwriting was very messy, and in some places the ink was not yet dry before it was folded up, leaving ink stains on the paper. The letter said that Yuan Shao's vanguard Yan Liang had besieged Baima with 10,000 men, and Baima City was in imminent danger. He requested General Guan to send reinforcements immediately.

"Drumming."

The drums sounded. Their deep, resonant beat echoed across the camp. Cavalrymen rushed out from their tents, quickly leading their horses, saddled them, and harnessed them.

The horse, startled by the sudden commotion, pawed at the ground. Someone was scolding the horse, while others shouted for assembly. Helmets, armor, and weapons clanged and clattered against each other.

Guan Yu entered his tent. His personal guards helped him don his armor, layer by layer, from leg armor to breastplate, to shoulder guards. Finally, they fastened his cloak, a blue one with frayed edges. He picked up his Green Dragon Crescent Blade and stepped out of the tent.

Five thousand cavalrymen were already lined up. Five thousand men, arranged in five square formations, one thousand men in each formation. The horses were all bitten, and the white breath exhaled from their mouths formed a continuous cloud, like a thin mist floating above the ranks.

The soldiers wore iron armor, had swords at their waists, bows and quivers on their saddles, and held long spears with their tips pointing to the sky.

Guan Yu mounted his horse. His horse was a chestnut-red steed with a large frame, thick legs, and hooves as big as bowls. Hanging from the saddle was his bow, which was very large and longer than an ordinary bow.

"Let's go. Destination: White Horse. We'll get there within two days."