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

On the walls of Liyang, the setting sun bleeds like blood.

When the escorting troops entered the city, Zhang Yi was already waiting at the city gate with his personal guards.

Wang Yu dismounted, strode forward, and patted Zhang Yi on the shoulder:

"Old Zhang, you're truly amazing! Forty thousand bandits besieged the city for three days, and you single-handedly held Liyang and Cangcheng. This achievement deserves a great reward!"

Zhang Yi grinned: "Not at all, not at all. The Emperor ordered me to guard every inch of the wall, and I absolutely cannot let it fall. Thanks to the brothers' desperate fight and Yuchi Gong's forging troops, we have made great contributions."

Having said that, he stepped aside to let Yuchi Gong appear behind him: "Old Wang, this is Yuchi Gong. In the bloody battle at the North Gate, it was he who led a hundred men to break through the enemy's armored soldiers scaling the city walls!"

Wang Yu looked at Yuchi Gong with a solemn expression.

The dark-faced man was still in his armor, covered in blood, with an iron whip hanging at his waist and a long spear propped on the ground, like a silent iron tower.

Wang Yu nodded slightly and cupped his hands, saying, "I have long heard of the forging army's reputation, and seeing it today, I can see it truly lives up to its name. You have made great contributions in this battle. When I return to Luoyang, I will certainly speak to the Emperor on your behalf and ensure that you get what you want."

Yuchi Gong clasped his hands in a salute, his tone calm and composed: "I dare not accept such praise from General Wang."

Wang Yu gave him a deep look, nodded, and turned to enter the city alongside Zhang Yi.

Outside the city, in the wilderness, the remnants of the defeated army lay like stray dogs.

Gao Shida led his remaining troops in a sorry state to a desolate mountain, where they hastily set up a temporary camp.

There was little smoke from cooking fires in the camp, and the soldiers were starving and freezing. Some gnawed on tree bark, some drank muddy water, and some collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

The sounds of crying, cursing, groaning, and swearing mingled together, sounding particularly mournful in the twilight.

"Useless! All of you are useless!" Gao Shida kicked over the table in front of him, shattering dishes all over the floor. "Forty thousand men couldn't even take down a single city, what use are you to me?"

A guard brought in water, but he was slashed down with a single blow, blood splattering on the tent walls.

"Get out! All of you, get out!"

Outside the tent, the soldiers were full of complaints, and morale had completely collapsed.

Some people cursed under their breath, some secretly packed their bags to escape, and some squatted in a corner, lost in thought.

In another tent, Dou Jiande sat upright like a mountain.

Standing before him were Liu Heita and a dozen or so assassins, each with a cold expression and their swords already drawn.

"Gao Shida is finished." Dou Jiande lowered his voice, his eyes sharp as knives. "We'll make our move tonight."

It was late at night, dark and windy.

The soldiers in the camp were exhausted and fell asleep, and their vigilance was relaxed.

Dou Jiande personally led fifty elite soldiers, stealthily approaching the central command tent and bursting inside.

Gao Shida, drowsy and sprawled on the couch, saw Dou Jiande enter and angrily shouted, "You dare come in?! It's all your fault for leaving me to die, that's why I've ended up in this state!"

Dou Jiande, his face cold, slowly stepped forward and drew his long sword.

The blade gleamed coldly in the candlelight.

"In chaotic times, the strong prey on the weak. The incompetent are unworthy to be masters."

Gao Shida was mostly awake now, his eyes wide as he reached for the knife.

Dou Jiande brought down his long sword cleanly and swiftly.

A flash of blood, and Gao Shida collapsed into a pool of blood before he could even scream.

Dou Jiande bent down, cut off Gao Shida's head, held it in his hand, and strode out of the tent.

The camp was brightly lit by torches, and the suicide squad had taken control of all the key locations.

The defeated soldiers were awakened from their sleep and were stunned to see Dou Jiande covered in blood, holding a severed head in his hand.

Dou Jiande raised the severed head high, his voice booming like thunder: "Gao Shida was incompetent and foolish, causing the entire army to suffer a crushing defeat. He has been beheaded by me! With the defeat at Liyang, Gao Shida's fate is sealed. Hebei is due for a new master!"

The camp was in an uproar.

Several of Gao Shida's loyal followers drew their swords and rushed forward, but were killed on the spot by Liu Heita and his men, their blood splattering everywhere.

The rest remained silent, like cicadas in winter, and no one dared to make a move.

Dou Jiande's gaze swept across the entire army, and he declared sternly, "From this day forward, the entire army will obey my commands. Anyone who disobeys will be executed!" He paused, then added, "Those who wish to join me in building a great empire will have no worries about food and clothing, and will share the empire with me!"

The soldiers looked at each other in bewilderment.

They had long been utterly disappointed in Gao Shida, and seeing Dou Jiande's elite troops and decisive killing, no one knew who first threw down their weapons and knelt down, followed by a chorus of kneeling sounds.

"I am willing to follow the general!"

Luoyang, the Capital Water Conservancy Bureau.

Li Ju sat alone under the lamp, with the battle report of Liyang spread out in front of him.

Changsun Wuji stood to the side, holding documents in his hands, and read out the casualty figures in a low voice.

After listening, Li Ju remained silent for a moment.

"Pass down the order," he raised his head, "to form a new battalion of three hundred men on the basis of the Forging Army, and continue the name of the Forging Army—the Forging Battalion. Yuchi Gong will be appointed as a captain and will be under the command of Zhang Yihe's embankment battalion."

Changsun Wuji picked up his pen to take notes, then asked, "Your Excellency, what are the troop numbers for the Forging Battalion?"

"Select elite soldiers who have participated in actual combat from the canal guards and river embankment battalions." Li Ju paused, "Yuchi Gong will choose the men himself; he'll take anyone he sets his sights on."

"Yes."

Li Ju spread out the paper, picked up his brush, and dipped it in ink. The memorial to the throne required him to write about two things.

First, the victory was reported. In the Battle of Liyang, an army of 100,000 invaders fought a bloody battle for three days, suffering 3,000 casualties, and finally repelled the powerful enemy. The rebels were routed, their corpses strewn across the fields. The city of Cangcheng was well defended, and the supply lines remained open.

He paused for a moment as he wrote this.

The actual number of rebels was 40,000, but he wrote 100,000. The actual number of casualties among the defending troops was less than 500, but he wrote 3,000.

The numbers should be exaggerated, but not too outrageous.

Neither the Ministry of War nor Emperor Yang Guang would investigate thoroughly, as long as the accounts appeared plausible.

Second, we request Your Majesty's permission to expand the army. The losses in this battle have been enormous, and our forces are stretched thin. We earnestly request Your Majesty's permission to expand the Imperial Water Conservancy Bureau by another 3,000 men to replenish personnel, weapons, and provisions.

After he finished writing, he blew the ink dry and sealed it.

"Sent to the Zhuojun Imperial Palace."

Several days later, Wang Yu returned to Luoyang.

He was travel-worn, his armor still covered in the mud of Liyang.

When Li Ju saw him in the duty room, he closed the door and dismissed everyone around him.

"How were the casualties reported?" Li Ju asked.

Wang Yu lowered his voice: "Rest assured, Your Majesty, two thousand core elites who have experienced actual combat have been selected from the Canal Guard and the River Embankment Battalion and transferred in batches to Huangshishan Granary in Wu'an County under the pretext of 'dying in battle' or 'being disabled'."

The military equipment was also transported there, and the accounts showed only losses. Du Chen had already balanced the books; the household registers and military records were all complete, and no problems could be found.

Li Ju nodded.

How many people live in Huangshicang now?

"With this batch, the private army guarding the granary now numbers five thousand, all of them elite veterans with formidable fighting power," Wang Yu said. "They have 1.2 million shi of grain and more than 7,200 sets of equipment."

Li Ju leaned back in his chair without saying a word.

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

"Have Wang Yuan guard the warehouse well," he said. "No one is allowed to enter or leave without my authorization."

"Yes."

Wang Yu withdrew.

Li Ju sat alone under the lamp. He took out a letter from his bosom. The four characters on the envelope read "To be opened by Liu Lang" in elegant handwriting. It was Wei Gui's handwriting.

He opened the letter and pulled out a thin sheet of paper.

Liu Lang meets:

It has been over a month since we parted, and I think of you constantly. Summer has arrived in Luoyang, and the magnolias in the courtyard are in full bloom. I imagine the winds and sandstorms are still fierce in the capital. I hope you take good care of yourself.

I've been feeling tired lately, and I especially crave sour foods during the day; plums and hawthorns taste particularly sweet. My maidservant smiled and said it was different from usual. I pondered this, and I feared it was fate.

Everything is fine at home. Ni Zi comes often to urge me to make more milk pastries for you; Madam Yuwen comes to the main courtyard every day to pay her respects. She is gentle and polite, and we get along very well. The household is in good order.

Only when I sit alone at night, sewing under the lamp, do I find my needle and thread always veering off course. It's not that my hands are clumsy, but that my mind is restless.

I hope you will return soon.

Ze Niang's handwritten letter

Li Ju read it once, then again. His gaze lingered on the four words "likes sour foods" for a long time.

He looked up and gazed out the window.

The direction of home is shrouded in darkness.

He pressed the letter to his chest, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He has jade in his arms, and she is in his home.