The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Di Qing immediately ordered: "The entire army must accelerate! Annihilate the small groups of rebels immediately, and allow the main force to retreat, letting them head towards Junzhou as quickly as possible. We will continue to stir up trouble and lure them into our dens. We must be at the city gates as soon as possible after the rebels reach Junzhou, and this battle must result in their complete annihilation!"

On the second day of the second lunar month, the dragon raises its head. Outside Junzhou City.

When Wang Zhonghua arrived with the army, the sight before him made him gasp in shock.

Junzhou City was even more treacherous than he had imagined. The city walls were five zhang high, entirely built of bluestone, and covered with eerie flame patterns that seemed to burn fiercely in the sunlight. The moat was ten zhang wide, its waters black, with a layer of oil floating on the surface that shimmered with iridescent colors in the sunlight—clearly flammable enough to turn into a wall of fire at any moment.

Even more terrifying were the crossbows and catapults standing atop the city walls, their dark muzzles like the eyes of death, coldly watching the invading enemy outside. The city walls were densely covered with Zoroastrian flags, fluttering in the wind, as if silently proclaiming: this city is the burial place of Di Qing, Wang Zhonghua, and others.

"It seems the Zoroastrians are treating this place as their stronghold." Di Qing's expression was grave, a hint of worry between his brows. "Scouts report that three more reinforcements have entered Junzhou from different directions in the past three days. Adding to the previous garrison, the city now... is probably no less than 20,000."

Twenty thousand.

Wang Zhonghua silently pondered this number. His vanguard battalion, plus Di Qing's main force, numbered only a little over 30,000. In siege warfare, "the art of war dictates that if one's forces are ten times stronger, surround them; if five times stronger, attack them; if twice as strong, divide them." Now, with the enemy and our forces nearly equal, the defending side held a significant geographical advantage. If we launched a direct assault, even if we won, it would inevitably result in a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood.

He spurred his horse forward a few steps, carefully observing the city's defensive layout. The corners of the city walls, the locations of the city gates, the width of the moat, the firing arcs of the ballistae on the city walls… these images quickly pieced together a three-dimensional map in his mind. Ancient siege battles he had read about in his previous life flashed through his mind—besieging a point to ambush reinforcements, cutting off supply lines, the strategy of winning hearts and minds over simply attacking the city…

"General," he reined in his horse and turned around, "a direct assault would result in too many casualties. It would be better to surround them without attacking, and cut off their supply lines."

A hint of approval flashed in Di Qing's eyes: "Just what I wanted."

Old Ouyang had long since become invisible. He knew that the smartest thing to do in front of Di Qing, this valiant general, was to shut up and not interfere. After all, the destruction of the cult bandits owed much to Ouyang Xiu.

Therefore, he merely nodded in agreement with Di Qing and Wang Zhonghua's conversation, never interrupting them.

Di Qing suddenly cracked his whip, the sound like thunder rolling across the army formation:

"Order: The left wing to guard the east gate, the right wing to block the west gate, and the central wing to guard the key roads! Dig trenches and set up barricades three miles outside the city. I want to turn Junzhou into an isolated city—a place where even birds cannot cross and no one can escape!"

On the third day of the siege, Lü Maoyi was summoned to a private meeting in Wang Zhonghua's central command tent.

"Mao Yi, I'm giving you a task." Wang Zhonghua pointed to the outline of Junzhou City on the map, "Take a few clever brothers and sneak in."

Lü Maoyi's eyes lit up: "The general wants me to enter the city?"

"Not to fight, but to talk." Wang Zhonghua tapped the city wall with his finger. "The various branches of the Zoroastrian Church have always been at odds. Sha Tongtian, the leader of the Junzhou branch, can keep them in check for a while, but not forever. I want you to spread the word throughout the city—that Sha Tongtian has secretly contacted the imperial court and is preparing to take the heads of the branch leaders in exchange for his own life."

Lu Maoyi was taken aback for a moment, then grinned: "General, are you suggesting they bite each other?"

"Not only that." Wang Zhonghua picked up a stack of papers from the table, which were covered with dense writing. "This is a 'Letter to the Congregation' that I wrote overnight. Find a few literate people to copy it hundreds of times and post it all over the city tonight. The content is very simple: The court will only punish the ringleaders and will not question those who are coerced. Anyone who lays down their weapons and leaves the city will be given one string of cash and one peck of rice and sent back to their hometown."

Lu Maoyi took the stack of papers and was deeply impressed by the neat, tiny characters written on them. He had no idea that Wang Zhonghua had worked as a copywriter for several years in his previous life and was most skilled at writing this kind of "psychologically persuasive copy."

"Remember," Wang Zhonghua patted him on the shoulder, "War isn't just about killing people on the battlefield. Sometimes, a few words are more effective than thousands of knives."

That night, Lü Maoyi, along with five "Dark Arrow" brothers, quietly sneaked into Junzhou through a hidden drainage ditch in the south of the city.

Over the next three days, undercurrents surged within Junzhou City.

As night deepens, several dark figures dart through the streets and alleys, pasting notices onto the walls. At dawn, the people gather to watch and whisper among themselves; a Zoroastrian patrolman tears down one notice, only to find three more pasted up in another alley.

Even more deadly are the rumors.

Inside the tavern, two drunken cult members "casually" remarked, "Have you heard? It seems there's some activity on Master Sha's side..."

At a tea stall, an old man selling vegetables "quietly" told an acquaintance, "I have a relative who works at the main headquarters. He said that Chief Sha has been acting mysteriously these past few days, not seeing any outsiders..."

In the military camp, a newly joined young believer told his fellow villagers in a panic, "Something terrible has happened! I heard that someone secretly opened the city gate on the east side and let the imperial officials in..."

These rumors spread like wildfire throughout the city. What began as whispers gradually escalated into open suspicion, and eventually turned into a standoff between the various branch organizations.

On the fourth night, members of the Caizhou branch in the east of the city and the Qianzhou branch in the west got into a fight in a tavern. The cause was simple: the people from the east accused the people from the west of being "traitors," while the people from the west accused the people from the east of being "slanderers." By the time Sha Tongtian sent his personal guards to arrive, seven or eight corpses were already lying on the ground.

Sha Tongtian flew into a rage and killed several leaders who had instigated the trouble on the spot. But this tactic of making an example of them only made the various branch leaders more fearful—they felt that Sha Tongtian was silencing them.

In the southwest of Junzhou City, in an inconspicuous little courtyard.

Lu Lao Jiu sat cross-legged on a futon, a map spread out in front of him. His finger slowly traced across the map, finally landing on a point—the South Water Gate of the City.

"Master," a trusted aide reported in a low voice, "news has come from outside the city that our three reinforcements have been scattered, some dead and some surrendered. The imperial court... has already surrounded the city."

Lu Lao Jiu remained silent.

His finger continued to move across the map, from the water gate to outside the city, and then to the distant mountains. There lay a hidden mountain path leading to the deep mountains behind Junzhou.

"What about Sha Tongtian's side?"

"Chief Sha has been in a terrible predicament these past few days. The various branch headquarters are in turmoil. He killed several leaders, but things have only gotten more chaotic. It is said... it is said that someone is spreading rumors that Chief Sha wants to take the heads of the various branch headquarters in exchange for his own life."

Lu Laojiu's lips twitched slightly.

It was an extremely complex expression—three parts mockery, three parts coldness, and four parts something that others would never understand.

"Fool," he said softly, "You've been tricked and you're still counting the money for others."

The trusted confidant dared not respond.

Lu Lao Jiu stood up and walked to the window. The night outside was dark, with lights faintly visible in the distance towards the main altar. There, Sha Tongtian was probably still preoccupied with the internal strife, racking his brains to figure out how to quell the public anger.

"Sha Tongtian," Lu Laojiu suddenly spoke, his voice so soft it was almost a soliloquy, "has been with me for twenty years. He's loyal, of course. But his brain... well, it's not quite up to par."

He turned around, his vulture-like eyes gleaming coldly in the darkness:

"Pass down the order: pack your things. We're leaving tonight."

His confidant was startled: "Master? Leave now? What about Master Sha's situation..."

"Let him stay here." Lu Lao Jiu interrupted him, a cold smile playing on his lips. "If he doesn't stay, how will the court believe us? If he doesn't die, how can I live?"

He paused, his voice lowering even further:

"Remember, before you leave, go to the main altar... and set it on fire. Make sure people see that it was Sha Tongtian's men who did it."

The confidant paused for a moment, then understood and nodded emphatically.

Lu Lao Jiu looked out the window again, gazing at the lights in the direction of the main altar, a complex expression flashing in his eyes.

Sha Tongtian has been with me for twenty years.

For twenty years, he has taken a knife for me, killed people for me, and taken the blame for me countless times.

But it is precisely because he has been with me for twenty years that I know best—he will not live past tonight.

It's not that I want him to die, it's that someone in this city must stay and die in my place.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the complexity had vanished, leaving only a strange and cold resolve.

February 20th, midnight.

Suddenly, flames shot into the sky within Junzhou City!

The fire started near the main altar and spread rapidly with the help of the wind, burning half the night sky red. In the firelight, shouts of killing, screams, and the clash of weapons mingled together, like a hellish carnival.

In the central command tent outside the city, Di Qing and Wang Zhonghua were both awakened at the same time.