Han Ji

The supplies were the hardest to handle. The grain sacks were unloaded and carried across by men. The horses had to be blindfolded and led one by one. One horse, even blindfolded, was still frightened; halfway across, its front legs buckled. The handler pulled desperately on the reins, the horse snorting heavily. Its hooves slipped on the edge of the cliff, sending several pebbles tumbling down to the valley floor with a dull thud. The handler, pale-faced, cradled the horse's head in his arms and shuffled it forward inch by inch. By the time they reached the bottom, both man and horse were drenched in sweat.

As darkness fell, the group rested on an abandoned ancient path halfway up the mountain. Beside the path were several dilapidated beacon towers, their rammed earth walls cracked and covered with withered grass.

The soldiers huddled together to sleep at the foot of the beacon tower, huddling together for warmth. They dared not light too many torches, for fear that the firelight would be seen from the other side of the mountain pass. They only lit three bonfires to boil water.

Liu Bei squatted by the campfire, munching on dry biscuits. Jia Xu sat opposite him, placing a white chess piece on the map. The map kept flapping in the wind, and Jia Xu used a stone to weigh it down.

The next day. The mountain path began to descend. The downhill was more difficult than the uphill; the loose rocks were slippery, and when people stepped on them, the rocks would slide down with them, causing them to fall to the ground and slide downhill. Some people slid down and bumped into the people in front of them, and a whole string of people sat on the ground cursing.

On the third day at noon, they arrived at Songziling. The plank road at Songziling was in a terrible state of disrepair; the planks broke as soon as you stepped on them, and wood chips and debris fell everywhere. Qian Zhao ordered the engineers to pry up all the rotten planks and lay new wood in their place. They cut down several pine trees by the roadside, split them into planks, and tied them to the original plank road frame with vines.

The new planks were wet, soft and yielding underfoot, bending but not breaking. Laying the planks took more than an hour, and the team waited in line on Songzi Ridge. The wind was strong, and the pine trees whistled in the wind.

On the evening of the fourth day, they arrived at Wild Horse Slope. There was only one well left, and the water was scarce; it took a long time for half a bucket of water to seep out after drawing it. Both men and horses had been thirsty all day, and their eyes turned green at the sight of the well. The handlers ordered people to line up to draw water, with the horses first, then the people. The horses were so thirsty that they kept nudging their noses toward the well opening, causing the handlers to stumble.

Day 5. The mountain path began to widen. The mountain walls receded on both sides, and the view suddenly opened up. Through the gaps in the mountains, a vast grassland could be seen in the distance, the gray horizon stretching along the sky, seemingly endless. The wind blew from the direction of the grassland, carrying the smells of cow dung and hay.

Qian Zhao ran back from the front, panting, and pointed ahead. "Fifteen li from the mountain pass."

Liu Bei ordered his troops to halt. He, along with Jia Xu, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun, walked to a high point ahead, parted the bushes, and looked down.

Below the mountain pass lies a hillside. The hillside is covered in withered, yellow grass, and there isn't a single tree. Extending down the hillside for about ten miles, one reaches the main peak of White Wolf Mountain, its slopes densely covered with tents. Tadun's large tent is halfway down the mountain, its white yak-tail banner still fluttering in the wind.

Between the mountain pass and Tadun's main camp, there was a small camp with only two or three hundred tents. Qian Zhao pointed to the camp. "This is Pufulu's camp, blocking the northern gully between the mountain pass and Bailang Mountain. There are about a thousand people there. If we go out from the mountain pass, they will be right in the middle."

Jia Xu observed for a while. "To defeat Tadun, we must first attack Pufulu. We must act quickly against Pufulu, lest he inform White Wolf Mountain."

Guan Yu said, "This subordinate will lead my troops to go around and intercept his path to White Wolf Mountain from the flank."

Liu Bei nodded. "We'll rest in the mountains tonight. We'll leave before dawn tomorrow."

That night, ten miles north of Yemapo, in a mountain valley near the exit of the mountain pass.

There was no campfire. The soldiers huddled together, wrapped in blankets, sleeping back to back. The mountain wind whistled through the pine trees, and someone snored, only to be woken up by the person next to them. The horses were tied to tree roots, their muzzles stuffed with bridles, unable to eat grass, and could only stand there.

Several cavalrymen broke their dry biscuits into pieces and fed them to the horses. The horses' tongues licked their palms, rough and warm. When the moon rose, thin clouds covered most of it, and the moonlight that shone through the clouds was a hazy gray, blurring the outlines of the tents and people in the valley.

Qian Zhao didn't sleep. He led five special operations battalions forward before the moon was obscured by clouds. The distance from the mountain pass to the camp in Pufulu was about seven or eight li, all gentle slopes with no trees, only withered grass and gravel.

The withered grass could conceal people. Six people split into three groups, each group fifty paces apart, and crawled forward, lying prone in the grass. The withered grass leaves scraped their faces, leaving bloody marks, but they didn't bother to wipe them away.

When they were about 500 paces from the campsite, the moon suddenly shone brightly for a moment, and all six of them simultaneously buried their heads in the grass and remained motionless. After the moonlight faded, Qian Zhao raised his hand and made a gesture, then continued climbing.

Pufulu's camp was enclosed by sharpened wooden stakes driven into the ground; no trenches were dug, only a few deer antlers were placed at the entrance. Several small campfires burned in the middle of the camp, burning horse dung. The smoke from the burning horse dung carried a strong, grassy smell that went straight into the nostrils.

The tents were sewn from old cowhides; some hides were half-fallen off, exposing the straw mats inside. Wind seeped in through the gaps, causing the tent fabric to billow and deflate. Several soldiers squatted by the fire, slicing and eating dried meat with knives, taking a bite of meat and a sip of mare's milk wine. Someone inside the tent was snoring, the snoring deafening.

Qian Zhao lay prone behind a clump of withered grass. His lips were chapped, with blood seeping from the cracks, and he spoke in a very low voice. "The tents have been counted. More than two hundred and thirty tents. Each tent sleeps four to five people, plus the sentries and scattered soldiers, totaling around a thousand men."

"Where are the horse posts?"

"Behind the camp. More than three hundred horses. The rest of the horses were scattered on the pasture north of the camp, unattended."

A veteran special forces soldier next to him propped himself up on his elbows and looked ahead. "Pufulu's soldiers don't wear armor at night, and their bowstrings are loosened and hung outside their tents." He paused. "They're not here to fight, they're here to garrison. They don't even care if anyone hears them stepping on gravel."

Qian Zhao had someone draw a simple map on the grass. The map was drawn with his finger on the mud, clearly marking the outline of the camp, the location of the horse posts, and the route of the mountain path leading to White Wolf Mountain. After finishing, he looked at it twice, then smoothed the map with his hand, leaving only a few faint, barely visible marks on the mud.

"Go back and give the map to the General."

Liu Bei was awake in the mountain hollow. He sat on a rock wrapped in a blanket; the rock was cold, and he could feel the chill seeping up through the blanket. Jia Xu sat beside him, a blanket draped over his shoulders, still holding the white chess piece in his hand, turning it back and forth between his fingers.

When Qian Zhao returned, the sky was already beginning to lighten. He reported the location, troop strength, horse posts, and sentry deployment of Pufulu's camp in detail. After finishing, he took a sip of water from his water bag; the water was so cold it made his teeth ache, so he held it in his mouth to warm it before swallowing.

"Pufulu is a member of Louban's unit. Louban's unit and Tadun's main unit have always been outwardly friendly but inwardly at odds. Tadun placed Pufulu's battalion in Beigou as a pawn to be discarded."

Jia Xu nodded. "Even a sacrificed piece is still a piece. If we capture this piece, Tadun's left side will be empty."

Liu Bei stood up. He looked at the sky; the white expanse on the horizon was expanding, and the mountain ridgeline changed from black to blue, then from blue to gray. The taxi drivers in the valley were already waking up; some were squatting on the ground, rubbing their faces with sand instead of washing them, while others were tucking dry biscuits into their clothes to warm them with their body heat before eating.

"Give the order: All troops, eat dry rations. Draw your swords, nock your bows, and remove the bridles from your horses. Depart from the mountain pass precisely at dawn."

A rustling sound began to move in the valley. The foot soldiers drew their swords from their scabbards, which struck the stones with a dull thud. The archers strung their bows, and the taut string made a creaking sound, like a bird's call.

The cavalryman removed the bit from the horse's muzzle, and the horse snorted, its breath billowing in puffs of white vapor in the morning light. The cloth wrapped around the horse's hooves was also removed, and the hooves clattered on the gravel.