My wife, Wei Gui, was 1.9 meters tall and fought against the Tang dynasty for the throne.

Outside the city, at the rebel camp.

Yang Xuangan sat in the central command tent, his face ashen. Li Zixiong stood below him, still in his armor, his body splattered with blood—not from the enemy, but from his own blood while supervising the battle.

"Not only did we fail to capture the city with five thousand elite troops, but we also lost three thousand men." Yang Xuangan slammed the battle report on the table. "What were you all doing?"

Li Zixiong lowered his head: "The city walls are well-stocked with arrows, and piles of logs and stones are as high as mountains. Our army is short of food, and our soldiers are too weak to charge—"

"Lack of food? If you lack food, then rob it!" Yang Xuangan suddenly stood up. "Aren't there any crops or villages outside Luoyang? Rob them!"

Li Zixiong gritted his teeth, gave a reply, and left the tent.

Li Mi sat in the corner, without saying a word from beginning to end.

Yang Xuangan turned to look at him: "Lord Pushan, why have you remained silent today?"

Li Mi raised his eyes and looked at Yang Xuangan, his gaze calm.

"Duke of Chu," he said slowly, "today's defeat is not due to our soldiers and generals, but to our provisions. If we run out of provisions within three days, our army will collapse on its own."

Yang Xuangan's expression changed: "Then what do you suggest we do?"

Li Mi remained silent for a moment.

"Attack again tomorrow. If we fail—" He paused, "the Duke of Chu should consider his retreat."

Yang Xuangan stared at him, his gaze sharp.

"Escape route? Where to retreat to?"

Li Mi did not answer. He rose, walked to the tent entrance, lifted the curtain, and gazed at the distant outline of Luoyang. The city walls were brightly lit, like a fiery dragon stretching across the sky and earth.

He lowered the curtain, turned around, and returned to his seat.

"Duke of Chu, please rest early. Tomorrow, there will be another tough battle."

Yang Xuangan did not ask any further questions.

Outside the tent, the night wind howled, carrying the chill of late autumn. In the distance, the lights of Luoyang city seemed like a pair of eyes, coldly watching this camp.

Li Mi sat alone under the lamp, spread out a piece of paper, wrote a few words, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the brazier.

The flames licked the paper ball, and it turned to ashes in an instant.

He stared at the ashes, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

In this round, they have already fallen into a disadvantageous position.

The groans of soldiers came from outside the tent. They weren't wounded, they were hungry.

We've been without food for three days. Half the horses have been slaughtered, the tree bark has been stripped off, and even the grass roots in the river have been dredged up.

Without food, the garrison in Luoyang will collapse on its own without any fighting.

He reached out and slowly drew a line on the map.

Yongji Canal. From Liyang to Luoyang, Li Ju controlled all the large ships, all the docks, and all the ferry crossings.

However, the rebels still had some small boats—fishing boats and civilian boats—scattered in various places, not forming a large fleet, but if they were put together, they could gather twenty or thirty boats.

Take the waterway. Detour to the flank of Luoyang. There's a transshipment warehouse there, west of the city, not within the northern defense zone.

The defenses were weak, but the supplies were plentiful.

If we succeed, we can hold out for at least ten days.

He picked up his pen, wrote a warrant, and sealed it.

"Someone come here."

The tent flap was lifted, and a middle-aged general with a wiry build walked in, bowing respectfully: "Lord Pushan."

This man was Li Mi's confidant. His surname was Han and his given name was Wei. He was skilled in night battles and had three hundred elite soldiers under his command, each of whom could fight ten men.

"General Han, take three hundred men in small boats and head south along the Yongji Canal. Go around to the west of Luoyang City; there is a transshipment warehouse there." Li Mi handed him the warrant. "You must succeed tonight. Bring back the grain; kill anyone who blocks your way."

Han Wei took the warrant, glanced at it, and put it in his pocket.

"Rest assured, Lord Pushan, I will certainly not fail in my mission."

"Be careful of Li Ju," Li Mi said. "This man is good at predicting the future and will not fail to guard the western front. After you arrive, send men ashore to scout and make sure there are no ambushes before you make your move."

"Yes."

Han Wei turned and left the tent.

A moment later, three hundred elite troops quietly set off from the rear of the camp and made their way down to the riverbank in the dark.

More than twenty small boats untied their mooring lines, and without lighting any lights or giving any orders, silently glided into the river and drifted south downstream.

The night wind blew across the river, carrying the fishy smell of water and the chill of late autumn.

Both banks were pitch black, without lights or human voices, only the faint sound of oars paddling through the water.

He crouched at the bow of the boat, his eyes like an eagle's, fixed on the distance ahead.

About an hour later, the outline of the dock appeared in front of them.

The transshipment warehouse was right behind the dock, a dark, unlit area.

"Dock." Han Wei said in a low voice.

More than twenty small boats slowly approached the dock.

Han Wei was the first to jump ashore, lay prone on the dock, and observed for a moment.

The dock was deserted, with no soldiers, no laborers, not even a ghost in sight.

He frowned.

It's too quiet.

"Pu Shan Gong said that Li Ju is good at prediction and would not fail to guard the western front..." he muttered to himself, glancing again at the granary behind the dock.

The granary door was tightly closed, and some grain sacks were piled up outside, seemingly placed haphazardly.

Perhaps Li Ju really didn't defend the western front? With the fighting so intense in the north, all his men had been transferred there, leaving the western front vulnerable, which makes sense.

"Let's get ashore." He waved his hand.

Three hundred elite soldiers silently boarded the dock and made their way towards the granary.

Just as they left the dock and entered the open space between the dock and the grain warehouse—

Suddenly, countless torches lit up the reed beds on both banks.

"Release the arrows!"

Wang Yu's voice boomed through the night.

The bowstrings twanged in unison, and a barrage of arrows came from both sides.

Caught off guard, the rebels were struck by arrows and fell to the ground, their screams piercing the night sky.

Some people ran towards the dock, where torches were lit—the guards blocked their retreat, brandishing their swords and spears.

Han Wei drew his sword to parry, deflecting two arrows in succession, but the people around him fell one after another.

"We've fallen for their trap! Retreat! Retreat!"

He led the rest of the men toward the river. But the dock was already crowded with people, and the small boats were tied together with ropes and towed to the middle of the river. Without a boat, they couldn't escape.

Wang Yu emerged from the reeds, sword in hand, and looked at the rebels trapped in the open space.

"Put down your weapons, and I will spare your lives."

Han Wei gritted his teeth, looked at the remaining soldiers of less than a hundred men around him, and then at the archers surrounding him from all sides, before finally throwing down his sword.

"We... surrendered."

Wang Yu waved his hand, and the soldiers of the escort team stepped forward to disarm and bind the surrendered rebels.

Han Wei was brought before Wang Yu, his head bowed, and he remained silent.

"Are you one of Li Mi's men?" Wang Yu asked.

Han Wei did not answer.

Wang Yu didn't press the matter further and had him taken away.

He walked to the dock, looked at the small boats being towed to the center of the river, and then looked at the granary—which was only half full of grain, as most of it had already been transported away.

Li Ju told him to keep half of the storage space for fishing.

North City Gate Tower.

Li Ju stood before the battlements, gazing at the night sky to the southwest. A fire had once lit up there, only to be extinguished.

Footsteps came from below the city. Wang Yu ran up, his armor stained with blood, but his face was full of joy.

"The envoys have been completely annihilated! Over 170 were captured, and the rest were all killed. The leader was Li Mi's confidant, surnamed Han, named Han Wei."

Li Ju nodded, his expression calm.

Li Mi, you finally took this step.

"What about our casualties?"

"Twelve were injured, but none died."

"Alright." Li Ju turned around and looked at the rebel camp outside the city. "Take the prisoners away, separate them into different lockers, and interrogate them one by one. Han Wei—lock him up alone, and don't let him have any contact with the others."

"Yes."

The rebel camp.

Li Mi sat in his tent, the lamp in front of him already extinguished. He didn't light a new one, but simply sat motionless in the darkness.

Hurried footsteps could be heard outside the tent.

A trusted advisor lifted the curtain and entered, his voice trembling: "Lord Pushan... General Han... his entire army was wiped out. Li Ju had laid an ambush long ago. All the ships on the north bank of the dock were withdrawn, and archers were lying in ambush in the reeds. General Han was surrounded as soon as he landed."

Li Mi remained silent for a long time.

"Where is Han Wei?"

"They've been captured."

"Where are the others?"

"Most of them were killed or wounded, and the rest were captured. Not a single one returned."

Li Mi closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

Outside the tent, the sounds of soldiers groaning and arguing could be heard.

Some people were fighting over horse meat, some were crying, and some were cursing.

The army of 100,000, which had been starving for three days, had become a mob.