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

Liyang.

Gao Shida rode outside the east gate of Liyang Granary, with 20,000 infantrymen behind him covering the plain in a dark mass, their banners askew and their weapons scattered.

Dou Jiande led 8,000 elite troops around to the north of the city, the dust kicked up by their horses obscuring the sky.

The auxiliary soldiers, panting heavily, pushed ladders and battering rams, dragging the column for three or four miles.

Gao Shida raised his sword, pointing it at the city wall, and shouted hoarsely, "Today we'll break through the granaries, and the soldiers will have three days of plenty!"

On the city wall, Zhang Yi stood with his hand on his sword.

"Order the four gates to be closed and the drawbridge to be raised."

"Crossbowmen scaled the city walls, piling up logs and stones along the battlements."

"Send someone to the dock and tell the garrison captain to hold the fortress to the death and not to engage in battle."

The captains accepted the order and left.

Zhang Yi then summoned one of the best swimmers and whispered instructions to him:

"Make sure to deliver this letter to Lieutenant Zhao, telling them not to linger in battle and that entering the city is the priority."

The soldier nodded, took out a section of reed from his robes, and put it in his mouth.

As dusk fell, a dark figure emerged from the hidden water gate on the west side, lowered himself down by rope, and silently slid into the trench.

With a reed pipe in its mouth, it dived into the water, emerged from the downstream sluice gate, and disappeared into the night.

The official road from Luoyang to Liyang.

The 1,500 reinforcements from the river embankment camp were halfway there when they were led by a captain surnamed Zhao, an old subordinate of Zhang Yi. He was in his early thirties, with a dark complexion, short beard, and shrewd, restrained eyes. He reined in his horse and unfolded the secret letter brought by the scout.

The letter contained only a few words: The waterways are cut off; hurry north to break through and enter the city.

Commander Zhao frowned and handed the letter to Yuchi Gong beside him.

Yuchi Gong took it, his tiger-like eyes narrowed, and he said in a deep voice, "With the waterway cut off, the docks probably won't hold out for long."

"Change course!" Commander Zhao immediately ordered. "The entire army will abandon the waterway and switch to the land route, avoiding the enemy's advance downstream, and enter the city from the north!"

The group turned and headed north at high speed.

Yuchi Gong strode forward, followed by a hundred heavily armored soldiers, their armor clanging as they stood in formation. The moonlight was cold, and the hundred heavy swords gleamed menacingly.

Yuchi Gong raised his sword and shouted, "Forging soldiers, follow me and charge to the front! Tonight, let those rebels see if blacksmiths can fight!"

A hundred men roared in unison, their voices echoing across the wilderness.

The Imperial Water Conservancy Bureau, Inner Hall.

The doors and windows were tightly closed, and the charcoal brazier was burning brightly.

On the map spread out on the table, the candlelight cast the shadows of Li Ju and Changsun Wuji onto the wall, one tall and one short, swaying slightly with the flame.

Changsun Wuji leaned over and pointed at the map, speaking very quickly: "There are two thousand troops guarding Liyang, one thousand five hundred reinforcements from the river embankment camp, and five hundred troops guarding the dock, totaling four thousand men."

The rebel army claimed to number 40,000, but in reality, only 10,000 auxiliary troops were completely ineffective in combat. Gao Shida's 20,000 troops were poorly equipped, and only Dou Jiande's 8,000 elite soldiers posed a serious threat.

He drew three lines on the map: "Liu Heita has cut off the waterway, and the only way for reinforcements to enter is through the northern route. In my opinion, we should hold the fortified city for three days. Once the enemy's food supplies are exhausted, their morale will inevitably collapse."

Li Ju remained silent, his gaze fixed on the red circle around Li Yang.

Changsun Wuji added, "Your Excellency can dispatch another thousand escort troops to sail north downstream. They will reach the dock in three days. With a combined land and water attack, we can secure the grain supply route to Hebei in one battle."

Li Ju raised her head, glanced at him, and remained calm.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and began to draft an order:

"Order the escorting troops to prepare their ships and rush to the aid of Liyang Wharf."

He wrote another proclamation: "Instruct Zhang Yi to hold firm and not engage in battle, thus wearing down and exhausting the enemy; this will be the greatest achievement."

After finishing writing, he handed the warrant to Zhou Xiaoli and whispered, "Have someone deliver it."

Zhou Xiaoli took it and quickly left the hall.

Changsun Wuji stepped back, cupped his hands, and said, "Your Majesty's strategy does not seek a quick victory, but only to wear down the enemy with a strong city, deplete their supplies, and demoralize them. Then, we will launch a pincer attack from both land and sea. This is the best strategy to secure Liyang at the lowest possible cost."

Li Ju leaned back in his chair, gazing at the map in the direction of Liyang, and said calmly, "Wuji, do you think Dou Jiande will see through this scheme?"

Changsun Wuji pondered for a moment: "It's useless to see through it. They're short of food, so they have to attack whether they want to or not. Besides—" He paused, "Gao Shida isn't someone who listens to advice."

Li Ju nodded.

Outside the window, the night was deep. In the distance, the faint sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard, one after another, deep and long.

South of Liyang City, the camp of auxiliary troops of the rebel army.

It was already completely dark, but the auxiliary soldiers had no tents and could only huddle together around the campfire.

Most of them were starving people from Hebei who followed the rebel army just to have a bite to eat.

But today, from morning till night, everyone only got a bowl of thin porridge, not even enough to fill a gap between their teeth.

"I'm starving..." A gaunt man clutched his stomach, his eyes fixed on the south.

Those were the houses south of Liyang City. Before dark, he saw smoke coming from the chimneys of several houses, which meant they must have grain.

"Let's go south and get some food." He tugged at his companion beside him.

"The leader said that looting the people is forbidden."

"The leader can't even feed himself, why is he taking care of us?" He stood up, crouched down, and headed south. Dozens more people followed.

Crying, smashing, and the sound of bowls and plates breaking came from the houses to the south.

Several elderly farmers were pushed to the ground, their only half-bag of brown rice was stolen, and an old hen had its neck broken.

When the news reached the central command tent, Gao Shida was arguing with Dou Jiande about the strategy for attacking the city.

He stood up abruptly, his face ashen: "Who gave them permission to plunder the people?"

The scout bowed his head: "It was the auxiliary soldiers who did it on their own; the leaders couldn't stop them."

"They've rebelled!" Gao Shida drew his sword and headed out.

Dou Jiande stopped him: "Brother, attacking the city is the most important thing right now, these trivial matters—"

"A trivial matter?" Gao Shida glared at him. "I'm fighting under the banner of a righteous army, plundering the people. How am I any different from the government troops? Who will follow us in the future?"

He shook off Dou Jiande's hand, strode out of the tent, and led his personal guards south.

It took three heads to quell the riot.

But the news had already spread, and although the auxiliary soldiers dared not say it aloud, they harbored resentment in their hearts.

Gao Shida returned to his tent, his face gloomy.

Dou Jiande didn't say anything more, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—not with a smile, but with coldness.

Liyang City Wall.

Zhang Yi frowned as he gazed at the firelight in the houses to the south.

"The rebels have started looting," the captain beside him whispered.

"Let it be chaotic, the more chaotic the better. As long as we hold Cangcheng and don't launch an attack, we'll be fine." He turned to the captain and said, "Tonight, take turns on duty. No sleeping. Archers and crossbowmen, take turns resting to conserve your energy."

"Yes."

The torches on the city wall shone brightly, casting long, dark shadows of the defenders.

In the distance, the lights of the rebel camp twinkled like will-o'-the-wisps scattered in the darkness.

The bugle call had stopped, but the camp was far from quiet—some were arguing, some were crying, and some were muttering curses.

On the official road leading from Luoyang to Liyang, 1,500 people were hurrying along.

The forging soldiers led the way, their hundred heavy swords gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

The caravan sped through the night, the sound of horses' hooves like muffled thunder echoing across the open plains.

In the distance, lights from the direction of Liyang can be faintly seen on the horizon.