Han Ji

Liu Bei nodded and then asked, "Regarding the construction of fortifications..."

"Continue," Lu Zhi said resolutely. "Dig the trench another foot deeper, and raise the earthen wall another foot higher. I want to turn Guangzong into an isolated island, starving Zhang Jiao to death."

That night, the government troops reinforced the fortifications overnight.

When Liu Bei returned to the western camp, it was nearly midnight.

The camp was brightly lit, and soldiers were repairing the fences and treating the wounded. Li Shun and other fellow villagers from Zhuojun were cooking porridge and distributing it to their exhausted brothers.

"General, have a bowl of hot water." Li Shun handed over a rough earthenware bowl.

The porridge was made of mixed grains and wild vegetables; it was thin, but warm.

Liu Bei took it and drank it slowly.

"Many brothers from Zhuojun died today," Li Shun said in a low voice. "I wrote down their names when they were buried."

"Well done." Liu Bei put down his bowl. "After the war, erect a monument for them."

Li Shun nodded emphatically.

Jian Yong returned from the wounded soldiers' camp, looking exhausted: "Brother, we're running out of medicine. There were too many wounded today, and the medicine is all gone."

"I will request a transfer from Lord Lu tomorrow."

"And..." Jian Yong lowered his voice, "Among the Yellow Turban prisoners captured today, one leader said that Zhang Jiao has stockpiled a large amount of oil in the city, seemingly intending to use it for fire."

Liu Bei felt a chill run down his spine.

Fire attack.

Guangzong was mostly made of wood; if Zhang Jiao, in despair, had set the city ablaze, he might have perished along with the government troops.

"I will report this to Lord Lu." Liu Bei stood up. "You all go and rest; there will be plenty of work to do tomorrow."

The crowd dispersed.

Liu Bei sat alone in his tent, spreading out a map.

Guangzong City is like a thorn in the side, stuck in the Hebei Plain.

If you pull it out, the Yellow Turbans' backbone will break.

But the process of pulling it out will inevitably result in blood.

The song of the night watchmen drifted from outside the tent, hoarse and weary, but unending:

"How can we say we have no clothes? We share the same robes with you..."

Liu Bei listened and closed his eyes.

That night, the city walls of Guangzong were brightly lit.

Zhang Jiao also did not sleep.

West of Guangzong City, the Ming River is wide and the current is gentle.

The Yellow Turbans moored hundreds of small boats and bamboo rafts at the water gate below the city, hiding in the reeds during the day and quietly transporting provisions and personnel back and forth at night. Lu Zhi pointed to the river and said to Liu Bei, "This is the throat of Guangzong. Zhang Jiao's grain reserves are insufficient, and he will surely rely on this waterway to smuggle supplies."

Looking across, Liu Bei saw reeds stretching to the opposite bank, with boats faintly visible in the distance: "I am willing to seize this water gate."

"You have northern cavalrymen who are not accustomed to naval warfare."

"Rafts can be built." Liu Bei had already considered this. "We don't need large ships or warships. We just need to carry archers and crossbowmen to shoot at each other near the shore, and prepare fire rafts to ram downstream. We can also send daredevils to swim across and seize ships, launching a pincer attack from both inside and outside."

Lu Zhi pondered for a moment: "Zhang Jiao has set up two arrow towers at the water gate and stationed several hundred soldiers there. It will not be easy to attack by force."

"Therefore, a night attack is necessary," Liu Bei said. "Tonight, with a west wind, we can launch fire rafts. I will personally lead those skilled in swimming to cross the river and seize the tower, while Guan Yu and Zhang Fei will lead infantry to provide support along the shore."

"Good." Lu Zhi nodded. "If we win this battle, Guangzong will be cut off from the waterways and become an isolated city."

At midnight, the moon was hidden in the clouds.

On the west bank of the Ming River, Liu Bei gathered two hundred of his soldiers who were good swimmers. They all removed their armor, wearing only trousers and short knives, and carried tinder and gunpowder wrapped in oilcloth on their backs.

Li Shun was among them. This boy from Zhuojun volunteered to join the suicide squad, saying that he often played in the Juma River when he was young and was quite good at swimming.

"Remember," Liu Bei lowered his voice, "the target is only the two arrow towers. After capturing the towers, light them with fire as a signal, and do not linger in battle."

The crowd nodded, their eyes filled with a chilling intensity.

On the river, thirty bamboo rafts, bundled with firewood and soaked in kerosene, were ready, with iron spikes stuck at their bows. Guan Yu led his archers to lie in ambush in the reeds on the east bank, while Zhang Fei led his infantry to hide behind an earthen slope.

At the second quarter of the hour of Chou (1-3 AM), a west wind began to rise.

"Launch the raft!"

The ropes were cut, and torches were thrown onto the rafts. The west wind propelled the fire rafts downstream, like a fiery dragon rushing straight towards the water gate.

Immediately, alarm gongs sounded from the arrow tower on the opposite bank. Yellow Turban sentries cried out in alarm, "Fire rafts! Stop them!"

Arrows were fired from the building, but the fire rafts came on strong and ignited as soon as they hit the moored boats. Flames shot into the sky at the water gate, and small boats and bamboo rafts caught fire one after another.

"Swim across!" Liu Bei shouted in a low voice.

Two hundred people silently slipped into the water. The river was icy cold on this autumn night, but no one made a sound; they simply swam forward with all their might.

Li Shun followed beside Liu Bei, gritting his teeth as he swam. The firelight reflected off the river, and they hid in the shadows, gradually approaching the east bank.

The Yellow Turban soldiers on the watchtower were so focused on putting out the fire and shooting at the rafts that they didn't notice anyone underwater.

Upon reaching the shore, Liu Bei gave a hand signal. The group split into two teams and stealthily approached the two arrow towers.

The watchtower was supported by wooden pillars on the water and connected to the shore by a pier. Most of the guards were shooting arrows from the tower, while only a few remained below.

Liu Bei led a team to the foot of the North Tower bridge, where he heard shouts from upstairs: "Quick! Pour water! Don't let the fire spread!"

Right now.

He was the first to climb onto the pier, his dagger flashing, and blood splattered from the sentry's throat. Behind him, the suicide squad swarmed forward and stormed into the building.

Caught off guard, the Yellow Turbans inside the building clashed in close combat, blood splattering on the wooden walls. Li Shun stabbed two men, his hand trembling, but he didn't stop.

Within a quarter of an hour, the north building was cleared.

"ignition!"

The torch on the rooftop swayed three times.

Nanlou had already succeeded, and Qian Zhao was leading the team over there.

Using the firelight from the two arrow towers as a signal, Guan Yu on the east bank, upon seeing this, shouted, "Fire the arrows!"

A barrage of arrows and crossbow bolts suppressed the Yellow Turban reinforcements rushing from the shore. Zhang Fei led his infantry out from behind the earthen mound and charged straight at the water gate.

After capturing the arrow tower, Liu Bei saw several intact small boats moored below and immediately ordered, "Board the boats! Seize the moored boats!"

The suicide squad charged out in their boats, engaging the burning and chaotic Yellow Turban fleet in a fierce battle. Though outnumbered, they launched a sudden attack and, using the fire as cover, managed to capture more than ten boats.

A chaotic battle erupted at the water gate. The fire spread, and most of the moored ships were destroyed. Seeing the situation was dire, the Yellow Turban naval commander tried to escape back to the city by boat, but Guan Yu shot him into the water with an arrow.

At dawn, the battle ended.

The Mingshui Water Gate changed hands. Government troops burned over seventy Yellow Turban ships, captured over twenty, and occupied both arrow towers. The Yellow Turban navy suffered hundreds of casualties, with the remainder fleeing back into the city.

Liu Bei stood atop the arrow tower, gazing towards Guangzong City. The water gates were tightly shut, the yellow flags on the city walls hung low, and all was deathly silent.

"Brother!" Zhang Fei strode upstairs, soaking wet. "We won! This damned waterway is cut off!"

Guan Yu stepped forward, his blade still dripping blood: "I have followed my elder brother's orders and have hastened the construction of water fortifications on both the east and west banks, and erected twelve additional arrow towers. From now on, our army can control the Ming River."

Liu Bei nodded and looked into the river. Debris floated on the water, and black smoke lingered.

Li Shun, his arm bandaged from a knife wound, approached and said, "General, we lost thirty-seven brothers... their bodies have all been recovered."

"Give him a proper burial." Liu Bei paused for a moment, then said, "Write down his name."

"Yes."

Lu Zhi rode his horse to the water fortress, inspected the newly occupied territory, and said with approval: "In this battle, Xuande has severed Zhang Jiao's arm. From now on, the waterway to Guangzong will be cut off, and he can only sit and wait in a hopeless situation."

"However, the grain stored in the city can still last for one or two months," Liu Bei said.

"It's alright." Lu Zhi looked north. "Huangfu Song and Zhang Liang are facing off at Quyang, while Zhu Jun is besieging Zhang Bao at Yangcheng. As long as we can trap Zhang Jiao, the three Yellow Turban brothers will be unable to defend themselves from both ends, and their defeat is inevitable."

He patted Liu Bei on the shoulder: "Next, we will build fortifications and besiege the city, then wait for their demise."

That afternoon, all four gates of Guangzong were closed, and no more boats sailed out.