The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Zhao Zongshi immediately knelt down and kowtowed, his posture solemn.

"I hereby appoint you as the Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Expedition, overseeing all military operations in the Yan and Yun regions, and commanding generals such as Yang Wenguang, Zhe Kexing, Qin Tiedan, Duan Gong, and Mu Guiying. All military and political affairs are to be arranged at your discretion, without the need for constant reporting. The Ministry of Revenue shall immediately allocate 300,000 shi of grain, the Ministry of War shall dispatch 30,000 sets of armor, and the entire Shenjige Firearms Battalion shall accompany the army." Emperor Renzong slowly rose, standing with his hands behind his back before his desk. His voice, though not loud, resonated throughout the Chui Gong Hall, brimming with confidence. "I will remain in Bianjing to stabilize the court and safeguard the rear. You shall simply lead your troops north, straight to Youzhou, until the Liao Kingdom sincerely submits and swears an oath to uphold its treaty!"

Zhao Zongshi kowtowed heavily, his voice resounding: "Your subject obeys the decree! I will certainly live up to the Emperor's trust and the people's expectations! If you don't believe me, let's see."

This familiar phrase, which hadn't been heard for many days, brought a knowing smile to Emperor Renzong's face.

As he rose, he caught a glimpse of the usually composed and solemn Han Qi out of the corner of his eye, and quietly raised his hand to wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes with his sleeve. Decades of regret for his family and country, half a lifetime of frustration, finally saw the dawn.

It was past midnight when he left the palace. The autumn wind was biting, chilling him to the bone and making him feel acutely aware. Zhao Zongshi stood on the stone steps outside the palace gate, raising his hand to his chest. The tattered page of Huiming's handwritten note was pressed against his heart, warm and burning, each word a wake-up call.

Han Nian'an stood at attention, leading his horse, and asked in a low voice, "Your Highness, when shall we depart for the front lines?"

"Set off immediately."

Zhao Zongshi mounted his horse, reined in, and looked back at Bianjing in the deep night. The city's myriad lights were sparse, yet countless windows still glowed faintly, belonging to those who, having heard of the border war, were anxious about their homeland and remained awake. He withdrew his gaze, looking towards the vast darkness to the north, and uttered four words, their tone heavy and powerful like a thunderclap:

"The Storm of Yan and Yun".

This was his comprehensive strategy for the Northern Expedition, which he had patiently devised for three years, rehearsed countless times, and kept hidden in his heart. Land surveying and household registration, military reform, firearms deployment, introduction of new grain varieties, western expedition to secure the border, naval expansion, and rallying the hearts and minds of the court—all these seemingly scattered reforms were interconnected and solidified step by step, finally converging into a thunderous force sweeping across the northern frontier on this late autumn night.

The horses' hooves suddenly rose, shattering the silence of the long street. Zhao Shun led thirty-six elite riders in close pursuit. The troop of iron cavalry, like an arrow released from a bow, broke through the night, rushed out of the open gates of Bianjing, and disappeared into the vast northern wilderness.

Within a month, flames of war spread across the Yan-Yun region, an unstoppable force.

When Zhao Zongshi arrived at the front lines after a grueling journey, the battle was already in full swing. Yang Wenguang's elite cavalry had captured Yizhou and Zhuozhou in quick succession, their advance relentless. Zhe Kexing led his army on a flanking maneuver from the northeast, their horses shattering the thin ice outside Juyong Pass, swiftly severing the vital passage between the Liao Kingdom's Western Capital Road and Youzhou. Yang Huayu led his artillery battalion in the advance of the central army, and the new type of exploding shells, in their first combat use, blasted a two-zhang-wide breach in the north gate wall of Zhuozhou. Bricks and stones, along with severed limbs, flew into the air, and the Liao soldiers, bleeding from their ears and disoriented, collapsed like a tidal wave. Li Yuanyou oversaw the three supply lines from the center, ensuring the army had no worries about its rear. Duan Gong led the "Dark Arrows" special operations behind enemy lines: destroying armories and assassinating enemy leaders, leaving the Liao army in a state of constant fear. Mu Guiying led the cavalry reserve to provide mobile support, and the entire Yan-Yun battlefield was like a tightly interlocking chess game, with every piece landing on the spot that Zhao Zongshi had planned for a long time.

On October 27th, Liangxiang County, an outskirts of Youzhou, was recovered. The Liao army commander in the city set himself on fire in the drum tower, and the fire raged for three days.

On the third day of the eleventh month, the vanguard reached twenty miles south of Youzhou City. The Liao army came out of the city to fight back, but was beheaded by Yang Wenguang's iron cavalry. More than a thousand were killed, and the corpses were strewn all over the field. The frozen corpses formed a crooked black line on the open field.

On the ninth day of the eleventh month, Lü Wang'er led her naval warships northward along the Lu River, their hulls covered with ice-breaking iron spikes, silently cutting off the Liao Kingdom's grain transport waterway from Shangjing to Youzhou. Tens of thousands of soldiers defending Youzhou were running out of food, and the Southern Court King Xiao Guangzuo, trapped in the isolated city, sent three urgent pleas for help to Zhongjing Dading Prefecture in a single day, but they all disappeared without a trace.

In just two months, half of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun fell into the hands of the Song Dynasty.

On the fifth night after the Liao Dynasty was forced to sue for peace and Song envoy Zhang Dun and Liao envoy Yelü Zongqi reached a preliminary ceasefire agreement at Baigou Post Station, a north wind swept through the Song army camp south of Youzhou City, carrying snowflakes. On the flagpole outside the gate, the large flag with the character "Song" on it was being torn by the gale, its surface frozen as hard as iron, and when it struck the pole, it made a crisp sound like metal clashing.

Inside the central command tent, candlelight blazed and charcoal braziers burned brightly, yet they could not dispel the chilling atmosphere of impending battle. Zhao Zongshi leaned over the map, draped in a worn black cloak, his fingertips slowly moving eastward from Youzhou City, across Luxian, Sanhe, and Jizhou, finally landing firmly on Shimen Pass, the vital passage from Nanjing Road of the Liao Kingdom to Zhongjing Dading Prefecture.

His fingers were long and slender, and the pads of his fingers had calluses from years of holding a pen and a sword. When he touched the map, his fingers were as light as a feather, yet seemed to have the force of a thousand pounds.

The tent flap was suddenly flung open, letting in a blast of cold wind carrying snowflakes, causing the candlelight to flicker. Yang Wenguang, his armor frosted with snow and his shoulder armor covered in a thin layer of ice, strode into the tent, bringing with him a chill. His voice, hoarse and rough from months of fighting, said, "Your Highness, the scouts report that Yelü Hongji's personal edict has reached Youzhou City. Xiao Guangzuo refused to accept it, publicly tore up the edict ordering Princess Yelü Jingrong to negotiate a marriage alliance, and executed the messenger, declaring, 'The princess is selling out the country for peace; the sons of the Xiao family would rather die than surrender!' The supply lines to Youzhou City have been cut off. There are still over five thousand warhorses and over twenty thousand garrison troops remaining. Xiao Guangzuo has ordered the slaughter of horses for food, mixing horse blood with broken wheat to make porridge, determined to hold out until next spring."

Zhao Zongshi straightened up, his fingertips still fixed on the stone gate, his eyes as deep as night. The candlelight in the tent flickered, casting a half-light, half-shadow on his face.

"Hmph, I won't let him wait until next spring. Don't believe me? Let's see!"

Before he finished speaking, Zhe Kexing had already ridden back from the flank. He entered the tent to report without even removing his armor. The frost on his armor plates melted in the heat, dripping down his wrist guards and staining the floor with a small dark patch: "Your Highness, Yang Huayu's artillery battalion has reached thirty li east of Youzhou City and is constructing artillery positions. My cavalry intercepted a Liao army grain transport convoy heading south from Shimen Pass, seizing three thousand shi of grain and detaining all three hundred guards."

Zhao Zongshi nodded slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment on the red ink line of "Shimen Pass" on the map before slowly withdrawing his hand. He walked to the charcoal brazier, warming his fingertips in the firelight, the warmth of his body spreading a very faint circle of ink across the map.

"Tomorrow at dawn, a full-scale offensive will commence."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable decisiveness, sounding less like a pre-battle mobilization and more like a statement of established facts. The three generals in the tent held their breath in unison; even the soft popping of the charcoal in the brazier could be clearly heard.

"Yang Wenguang, your unit will lead the main attack on the south gate, with three thousand iron cavalry in a feigned attack to lure the enemy. Xiao Guangzu is arrogant and self-confident. Seeing your strong position at the south gate, he will surely mobilize his main force to meet the enemy. If he does not mobilize, then make the show of force even bigger, so big that he will not dare not mobilize."

Yang Wenguang clasped his hands in a fist salute, ice shards clinging to his short beard: "This subordinate understands!"

"Zhe Kexing, you will lead your elite troops to lie in ambush in the reeds three miles outside the East Gate. Wait for the main force in the city to move south, then seize the East Gate under cover of night. The reeds are withered, and the snow is knee-deep. The ambush soldiers must be able to withstand the severe cold—if even one person coughs, they will be punished according to military law."

Zhe Kexing knelt on one knee, the armor plates clashing together with a crisp, resounding clang: "My men under my command, even if they lose a finger to the cold, they won't utter a sound!"

"Yang Huayu's artillery battalion, suppress the crossbows on the city wall, and use exploding shells to cover the north city tower and granary area, breaking their will to defend. Tell Qin Tiedan, whether the cannon fire is accurate or not, I don't care about the reports, I only care if there are still arrows coming down from the city wall."

"Mu Guiying will lead the cavalry reserve. Once the east gate is breached, they will immediately pour in through the gap and storm the central command tent. They must capture Xiao Guangzuo alive." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the generals. "If this man dies, the 20,000 Liao troops in Youzhou will be like headless flies, easy to defeat but difficult to subdue; if this man lives, the Southern Liao army will be crippled, and the two prefectures of Yun and Shuo can be pacified without a fight. A living Xiao Guangzuo is more valuable than a dead one."

The three generals answered the order in unison, their voices echoing through the tent.

"After this battle, regardless of Xiao Guangzuo's life or death, send a messenger to deliver this letter to Dading Prefecture in Zhongjing of Liao, and personally hand it to Yelü Zongwang. He has been waiting for this reply for two whole months over there."

Yang Wenguang took the letter, his rough fingertips rubbing the sealing wax, and carefully put it into the inner lining of his armor, pressing it close to his heart.

The next day at dawn, before daybreak, a north wind blew snow.

On the city walls of Youzhou, Liao soldiers rubbed their hands and stamped their feet in the morning mist. Frost clung to their armor, and the white vapors they exhaled were instantly dispersed by the cold wind. Suddenly, a muffled tremor came from the southern wilderness—not thunder, not an earthquake, but the roar of thousands of warhorses galloping over the frozen earth, growing louder and louder until it became a deafening roar that engulfed everything.

The sentry on the city wall's expression changed drastically. Just as he was about to ring the alarm bell, a loud bang resounded from the direction of the north city tower, shaking the heavens and the earth.

Yang Huayu's artillery battalion opened fire in unison. Twenty heavy cannons unleashed orange-red fireballs from their muzzles amidst the snow and mist. Exploding shells, trailing bright flames, soared over the city walls, landing precisely on the granaries and military camps. The first wave of shells caused the granaries to explode with a deafening roar, sending wheat grains mixed with soil flying into the air like a golden blizzard in the firelight. The second and third waves of bombardment followed in quick succession, illuminating the northern half of Youzhou City as if it were daytime, even turning the frost and snow in the cracks of the city walls a crimson red.

Simultaneously, a feint attack was launched at the south gate. Yang Wenguang's three thousand iron cavalry charged in formation, their hooves shattering the morning frost, white breath escaping from their nostrils, and their sabers drawing cold arcs in the dim light. Horns tore through the cold wind, and the shouts of the Song army rose like waves, one after another.

As Zhao Zongshi had predicted, the Liao army on the city walls assumed the main Song force was at the south gate and hastily dispatched reinforcements. Xiao Guangzu personally ascended the south gate tower to command, donning armor, wielding a sword, and pointing south, shouting hoarsely for the archers to fire. However, the archers on the city walls were pinned down by artillery fire from the north, and the arrows fell sparsely and ineffectively. A few arrows were blown off course by the wind and snow, landing softly on the frozen ground in front of the Song army.

The sounds of war drums, cannon fire, and battle cries merged into a torrent of scorching iron, surging, tearing, and crashing outside the walls of Youzhou. The air was thick with the smells of gunpowder and sulfur, burnt grain and fodder, and the stench of blood from cannon fire and dismembered corpses, lingering long into the bitter cold.

At 3:45 AM, a muffled explosion came from the direction of the East Gate—Zhe Kexing had led his troops to blow open the East Gate with gunpowder.