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

Li Mi slowly raised his head, his gaze falling on Yang Xuangan. His tone was calm yet carried an undeniable weight: "Duke of Chu, things have come to this point, there is no need to cling to our obsessions. In today's situation, there are only three options; there is no fourth path to take."

Yang Xuangan suddenly looked at him, his gaze burning with a hint of panic, like a drowning man grasping at the last piece of driftwood, and asked in a hoarse voice, "What good plan does Lord Pushan have? Speak quickly!"

Li Mi's fingertips landed heavily on the map, his voice calm, yet every word carried immense weight, each sentence striking at the rebels' fatal flaw:

"The best course of action is to select 10,000 elite troops, abandon their baggage and the elderly and weak, and march swiftly and lightly, bypassing Luoyang, heading straight for Tongguan, entering Guanzhong and seizing Yongfeng Granary. Guanzhong is a land of plenty, with abundant food and supplies, and it has formidable passes to defend. Occupying this place will allow us to stand on equal footing with the imperial court. This is our army's only way out."

Yang Xuangan stared in the direction he was pointing, his eyes flickering. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he murmured, "Abandoning the old and weak, abandoning the baggage train... what will become of the dignity of my righteous army?"

Li Mi did not respond, but moved his finger to the east and continued, "The middle strategy is to abandon Luoyang, lead the troops eastward, enter the Liang and Song marshes, gather the refugees, and defend the strategic locations."

Although this action may not achieve the great feat of overthrowing a tyrannical ruler and stabilizing the realm, it can at least preserve one's life. Waiting for a change in the political landscape before making further plans is far better than passively awaiting death.

Yang Xuangan's brows furrowed even more, and his face darkened: "To flee east to Liang and Song, to become a wandering bandit? I, Yang Xuangan, am the Duke of Chu of the Great Sui Dynasty, how can I live such a wretched life?"

Li Mi withdrew his finger, staring directly at Yang Xuangan. His tone was flat, yet every word was icy: "The worst course of action is to continue the siege of Luoyang and wait for Yuwen Shu and Lai Huer's armies to encircle it. Our 100,000-strong army has been without food for many days, with no reinforcements or supplies. When that happens, the entire army will be annihilated, with no survivors."

As soon as he finished speaking, the tent fell into a deathly silence. Even the groans outside seemed to have subsided, leaving only the faint sound of the flickering candlelight.

Suddenly, the candlelight flickered and went out completely.

The tent was plunged into darkness, with only a few rays of moonlight leaking through the gaps, falling palely on the map, on Li Mi's calm face, and on Yang Xuangan's twisted brows.

No one lit the lamp.

The tent remained silent for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, with only Yang Xuangan's heavy breathing as the only sound.

Yang Xuangan suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse as if squeezed from his chest, filled with hysterical obsession: "I raised an army to punish the tyrannical ruler, to pacify the world, and to save the people from suffering. How can I become a bandit, living a life of ignominy in the wilderness? How can I abandon my people and become a laughingstock to the world!"

He slammed his fist on the table, causing it to shake violently, and the map slipped to the ground.

"Pass on my order—tomorrow at dawn, the entire army will launch another attack. We will not return to camp until Luoyang is captured!"

Li Zixiong suddenly looked up, his lips moved as if he wanted to say, "Our supplies are exhausted, and we are unable to continue the attack." But when he met Yang Xuangan's bloodshot, obsessive eyes, he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue and could only nod heavily and reply in a low voice, "This subordinate obeys."

Li Mi did not move, his face still expressionless, as if he had already foreseen this outcome.

He slowly bent down, picked up the map that had fallen to the ground, gently smoothed out the creases, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table.

Then he stood up, bowed slightly to Yang Xuangan, and said in a calm tone, "Since the Duke of Chu has made his decision, we will obey your command."

There was no advice, no argument—he knew that Yang Xuangan's stubbornness had long since rendered him deaf to any dissenting opinions.

He turned around, lifted the curtain, and went outside.

Outside the tent, the night wind howled, carrying the chill of late autumn, causing his robes to flutter loudly.

Li Mi stood on the open ground between the tents, looking up at the night sky.

The moon was mostly obscured by clouds, with only a few stars hanging coldly, casting a pale white light on the earth.

In the distance, the lights of Luoyang City still shone brightly, like a fire dragon lying across the land, or like a pair of cold eyes watching the rebel camp on the verge of destruction.

He stood there for a long time, his figure appearing particularly lonely in the night.

A trusted advisor emerged from the shadows, his footsteps extremely light, and whispered, "Duke Pushan, Duke of Chu... in the end, he still chose the worst option?"

"Yes, we chose the worst option." Li Mi's voice was very calm, as calm as if he were talking about the weather today. There was no anger, no regret, only a sense of calm after everything had settled down.

The advisor's expression changed, and he said urgently, "Then our army... isn't it doomed? Should we arrange an escape route immediately?"

"Death is imminent." Li Mi uttered these four words softly, his tone completely calm, then turned and walked towards his tent.

Back in his tent, Li Mi lit a lamp, spread out some paper, quickly wrote a few lines, sealed it, and handed it to his trusted confidant.

"Before dawn, make sure to send it out of the camp and hand it over to the people outside the city."

The confidant took the letter and hesitated, saying, "Lord Pushan, aren't you going in person? This matter is of great importance; there might be some mishaps."

"It's not time yet," Li Mi interrupted him, his tone firm. "Go, but be careful and don't expose your whereabouts."

The trusted confidant accepted the order, carefully put away the letter, and disappeared into the night.

Li Mi sat alone under the lamp, picking out the documents on the table one by one. Some were thrown into the brazier, while others were folded and put into his sleeve—these were all plans he had been devising for a long time, and letters he had been communicating with, but now they seemed useless.

The flames licked the pages, turning them to ashes in an instant. The ashes floated in the heat, like black snow, falling silently onto the table.

The walls of Luoyang.

Li Ju did not sleep.

He stood atop the north city wall, gazing towards the rebel camp outside the city. The camp was sparsely lit, with only a few scattered lights, like flickering will-o'-the-wisps, utterly lifeless.

But the camp was far from quiet—groans, curses, and cries drifted intermittently, sounding particularly mournful in the night wind, telling of the rebels' despair.

Wei Feng walked up to the city wall, his armor still stained with blood from earlier that day, his steps hurried: "Lord Li, there's movement in the rebel camp. They're not retreating, they're regrouping, it seems they're going to make a final stand."

Li Ju nodded, his expression unchanged, as if he had already anticipated all of this: "Li Mi must have given Yang Xuangan three strategies. I don't need to guess what the superior and middle strategies are, but the inferior strategy must be a desperate attack on Luoyang."

He turned around, looked at Wei Feng, and said firmly, "Yang Xuangan prides himself on being a loyal and righteous man. He is obsessed with the empty fame of 'breaking Luoyang and killing the tyrannical emperor.' He refuses to abandon the city and flee, and refuses to bow his head and show weakness. Attacking Luoyang to the death is his only choice."

"Then tomorrow—" Wei Feng gripped the hilt of his knife, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

"Tomorrow, they will fight to the death, until they are completely exhausted," Li Ju said, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable force. "And then, it will be their end."

He walked to the crenellations, his hands resting on the cold bricks, gazing at the darkness beyond the city walls. His voice was low and resolute: "Send orders to Wang Yu, instructing him to lead his fleet to blockade all waterways, not even a fly should be allowed to escape by water; send orders to Zhang Yi, instructing him to lead the riverbank battalion to guard all ferry crossings, the rebels will have to step over his dead body to cross; finally—"

He turned to look at Wei Feng, his gaze sharp as a knife: "Tomorrow, you will lead three thousand elite troops to ambush the rebels on their inevitable northward route. When they are routed, intercept them and leave no future trouble."

Wei Feng clasped his hands in a fist salute, his voice resounding, "This subordinate obeys!"

He turned and strode down the city wall, the sound of armor plates clashing crisply and rapidly in the night wind, carrying his determination to defeat the enemy.

Li Ju turned back towards the outside of the city, took out the jade from his bosom, and held it in his palm.

Warm and slightly cool.

"Yang Xuangan," he said softly, his voice carried by the night wind, yet with an undeniable resolve, "you can't escape."

Outside the city, at the rebel camp.

Li Mi threw the last document into the brazier, watching it gradually burn to ashes and merge with the other ashes.

He blew out the lamp, lay down on the cot, and closed his eyes.

Outside the tent, the distant sound of the watchman's drum echoed from the walls of Luoyang. Each beat, deep and drawn-out, like a death knell, struck the hearts of every rebel soldier, and also the heart of Li Mi.

He was not asleep.

He was waiting for dawn.

Waiting for that destined ending, waiting for a final, settled destruction.