In this realistic war game, only I understand the course of the battle.

Zhao Laoliu pulled the pipe from his mouth, clutching it tightly in his hand without saying another word. He had followed Shen Du from Baigou River to Dezhou, and then to Jinan, and had never seen the people of this city so terrified. The cries from the north city drifted faintly over with the ripples of water, indistinct yet sending chills down one's spine.

Gu Zhang squatted on the other side of the stack, sharpening his knife bit by bit. The sound of the whetstone rubbing against the blade was intermittent, and he was somewhat restless.

On the inner city wall, Tie Xuan stood behind the crenellations. The city bricks beneath his feet were wet, and the ramparts were covered with a layer of muddy water that reached above his ankles. He watched the firelight of the northern city flicker like shards of gold on the water's surface, his face showing neither anger nor fear, only the coldness of a scholar tempered with iron.

"How much grain is left in the city?" he asked his aides behind him.

"The granaries in the north of the city were flooded, and about 30% of the stored grain was lost." The aide paused, his voice low. "The rest, if eaten sparingly, can last for two months."

Tie Xuan didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the direction of the Yan army camp outside the city, beyond the crenellations. The Yan army camp was brightly lit, the firelight reflecting on the water like a burning dragon. Zhu Di had breached the Yellow River dike; his next step was to wait for Jinan to rot away from within. Fear is contagious; a person blinded by hunger is more terrifying than cannonballs. But he couldn't retreat.

Tie Xuan turned around, walked back to the temporary desk that had been moved into the city tower, picked up his pen and wrote two lines of text. His handwriting was neat and meticulous.

"Report to General Sheng Yong: The northern city has been flooded, and 30% of our grain reserves have been lost. However, the Yan army has been unable to capture the city after a prolonged siege, and their soldiers are exhausted. The breaching of the dikes is Zhu Di's way of forcing the city's heart into the water. At this time, we cannot fight a direct confrontation; we should instead use strategy to win."

He blew the order paper dry and handed it to the messenger, then instructed his personal guard, "Go and invite Lord Han here."

On his way to the city wall, Qingshan saw the water in the inner city drainage ditch rising little by little. The turbid yellow mud soup kept churning from the culvert, carrying the fishy smell of river silt.

Zhu Di indeed breached the Yellow River dike. He had seen this tactic before in Dezhou, but that time it was used to breach the rammed earth walls of the Twelve Linked Cities, while this time it was used to flood the entire city of Jinan.

But this time was different. The floodwaters poured into Jinan, submerging not only the defenders' supplies but also their morale. The soldiers might fight to the death on the city walls, but their families were inside, submerged in water. Once fear crumbled, even the strongest walls would crack from the inside.

He entered the city gate tower just as Tie Xuan put down his pen. The candlelight inside the tower was sparse, and the flickering flames danced on Tie Xuan's face.

The man in the blue robe bowed respectfully: "Lord Tie."

Tie Xuan handed him a copy of Zhu Neng's letter of persuasion to surrender. Qing Shan took it, glanced at it, and didn't look at it closely. Tie Xuan had already made his position clear; he didn't even need to think about writing a reply in refusal.

"With the northern city flooded, the morale of the army and the people is completely submerged." He got straight to the point, without uttering a single wasted word. "Zhu Di is waiting for us to rot from within, but his patience is also running out. The siege has lasted for over a month, the Yan army soldiers are exhausted, and Zhu Neng is seriously injured and unable to get up. If we can give him a sufficiently tempting feigned surrender plan to lure him into the city to accept the surrender, Jinan can be turned around."

Tie Xuan looked at him. Qing Shan had fought Li Jingzhong in Dezhou, and although he lost a battle in a trap formation, the intelligence he brought back from Dezhou was the most valuable among all the civil and military officials in Jinan. He knew the Yan army's tactics all too well, especially that centurion surnamed Li, which meant that he was the only person in the entire city of Jinan who could predict the Yan army's weaknesses.

"Will Zhu Di personally enter the city?" Tie Xuan asked.

"Yes." The voice in the green robe was extremely confident. "He witnessed firsthand the speed of our army's defeat in Dezhou, and he also saw the fighting power of his cavalry. Since the siege began, although Li Jingzhong's mixed infantry and cavalry have broken through the outer defenses several times, they have never been able to scale the inner city walls. In Zhu Di's eyes, our morale has been pushed to its limit. What he lacks now is not troops, but a way to win without fighting. As long as we present this opportunity to him, he will definitely take it."

"How do we set up this plan?" Tie Xuan reached out and slowly unfolded the city defense map in front of him.

The man in the green robe pointed heavily at the west gate of the inner city. The outer city was already in the hands of the Yan army, and the west gate of the inner city was the most heavily defended part of the entire city.

"First, let the soldiers cry on the city wall, the more pitiful the better, saying that Jinan is about to be flooded and cannot be defended, and everyone just wants to get out alive. Then, select a thousand people to go out of the city and feign surrender. These people cannot be soldiers, but civilians, elders, women and children. Zhu Di may not believe surrendered soldiers, but he will never disbelieve unarmed civilians. Have the elders kneel outside the Yan army camp and beg him to enter the city alone to accept the surrender."

Tie Xuan paused for a moment on the city defense map with his pen: "Entering the city alone?"

"The point is to convince him that if he enters alone, Jinan will surrender. He will bring guards, but he will never bring a large army. We are not killing the Yan army, but Zhu Di. Once Zhu Di is dead, this Jingnan campaign will be over."

The man in the green robe moved his finger an inch from the mark on the west gate towards the inside of the city gate opening: "The heavy gate. The heavy gate above the city gate opening inside the west gate's barbican was newly replaced by the workshop half a year ago, and the iron parts are intact. The mechanism is hidden in a secret compartment in the inner wall of the city gate opening. As soon as Zhu Di enters the city gate opening, the heavy gate will come crashing down from above. Even if it doesn't kill him, it will cripple his horse. The axemen lying in ambush on both sides will rush out in the chaos, break the bridge, pull the ropes, seal the city gate, and Zhu Di will be trapped like a turtle in a jar."

Tie Xuan remained silent for a long time before shifting his gaze from the city defense map to the thin-faced military advisor.

"Lord Han, you've fought Li Jingzhong in Dezhou and personally experienced the intelligence capabilities of the Yan army. A feigned surrender is easy to say, but to make it foolproof, the performance must be flawless." He picked up his pen again and wrote a few lines on the order paper. "I will immediately arrange for the city to be wailed and select those to leave the city. Go find General Sheng Yong and ask him to deploy assassins to ambush on both sides of the city gate. This matter should only be known to you, me, and Sheng Yong; not a word of it must be leaked."

That night, a chorus of weeping suddenly erupted from the inner city walls of Jinan. It wasn't hysterical wailing, but rather a suppressed, continuous wail that stretched from the east to the west of the city.

The soldiers guarding the city wept behind the crenellations, clutching their spears; the laborers squatted on the ramparts, covering their faces and weeping; even the blacksmith's apprentices stopped their work and squatted against the wall, weeping. The cries flowed down the city wall, mingling with the sound of water from the north, carrying far, far away in the darkness.

Some people in the Yan army camp heard it, and the first to hear it was Zhao Laoliu.

He was squatting inside the barbican of the west gate, sharpening his short-handled axe. Suddenly, he stopped, tilted his head, listened for a moment, and then abruptly pulled his pipe from his mouth: "Master Li, listen! They're crying in the city!"