Chapter Forty-Seven: Watch Me Defeat You!

Li Zisheng did not pause, nor did he care in the slightest about the feelings of those present. He went on candidly, speaking his thoughts without restraint.

Yet across from him, Liang Fu's expression grew exceedingly grim, though he was by no means a man of little consequence. With a brief adjustment, Liang Fu forced a slight smile toward Li Zisheng. Despite knowing full well that Li Zisheng sought to cut off his retreat, Liang Fu was keenly aware that if he allowed Li Zisheng to propose a method that would not harm the Turks in the least, then he would have no means to secure victory.

If that were the case, he would lose the initiative entirely, and defeat would be inevitable.

"Zisheng, what you say is not without merit. Advancing along these routes could indeed secure us victory in this campaign. Yet, such is not my wish, for it would still sap the strength of my soldiers. As a commander, I must seize the right moment, weigh the advantages of time and terrain, and choose the path to triumph accordingly," Liang Fu said, casting aside the image of Li Zisheng from his mind. Gazing at the man before him, the sense of formidable pressure that had earlier welled up within him slowly faded.

The crucial point was that, although he himself had not conceived of a perfect, crushing strategy, his own ideas were in no way inferior to Li Zisheng's. Liang Fu was convinced that Li Zisheng had also failed to devise any plan for an overwhelming victory.

"Very well, let us begin. Brother Liang, please make your deployment," Li Zisheng responded with a slight bow, eyes fixed on the sand table, lost in thought.

"Good. As the saying goes, when everything is ready, all that is lacking is the east wind. A torrential downpour—this is the providence of Heaven for this battle," Liang Fu began.

"Three miles to the city, seven miles to the outer walls, encircled and attacked yet not taken. To attack on all sides, one must have Heaven’s favor; yet if one fails, it is because terrain outweighs the will of Heaven. In this campaign, the slopes of Lingxi Mountain are slick, the Lingwu River is swollen, and beneath the relentless rains your troops will be utterly exhausted. This is the advantage of terrain for this engagement."

"Now that time and terrain are both in my favor, I shall see how you claim victory," Liang Fu concluded, his face contorted with grim determination, eyes glued to the sand table as if pouring his very soul into the simulation.

"A fine strategy, indeed—the advantage of time and terrain. Brother Liang, you are truly a man of wisdom," Li Zisheng could not help but praise.

The slick slopes of Lingxi Mountain and the swelling Lingwu River were indeed critical. Liang Fu’s attention to these points revealed that his strategies would revolve around them. If he proceeded slowly and waited for the right moment, he could secure victory with little effort.

Victory could be achieved with hardly any loss of men or horses—swift and effortless. Yet time waits for no one; to delay would be to exhaust his own side. Thus, he would use the terrain to his advantage: when the roads grew slick and the waters rose, he would float massive boulders downstream to block the river, flooding the lower course and cutting off the enemy’s supply routes.

Though this, too, was a tactic of starvation, it was far superior to the methods of Feng Hai, Liu Er, and the others. It was a way to harness the power of nature, minimizing the loss of manpower.

The mountain paths were already treacherous; if slippery grass were laid as obstacles, not even men—let alone horses—could pass easily.

By attacking on two fronts, though not perfect, it was the surest approach—a method to secure victory with ease.

"Zisheng, and how will you deploy your forces?" Liang Fu’s tone had already shifted, now addressing Li Zisheng as an equal.

Having seen Liang Fu's arrangement, Li Zisheng sighed inwardly; it was just as he had expected.

"Brother Liang, your strategy is indeed a path to certain victory. But since we are to be tested, I seek to claim first place and shall not yield to you," Li Zisheng replied with a faint smile, disregarding Liang Fu’s attitude, and began to arrange his own deployment.

"The Tang army’s left wing of ten thousand men collects vine ropes and horse fodder, constructs rollers, and places them beneath the boulders atop Lingxi Mountain. The right wing of ten thousand soldiers secretly digs a channel to divert the Lingwu River to the mountain’s base. The remaining eighty thousand troops form four divisions, each sending three hundred to the boulder fields to feign ghosts and foxes, setting phantom fires."

At this, Li Zisheng looked around; as expected, his plan was met with skeptical glances.

His strategy was little different from Zhang Ling’s initial approach—relying on terrain to aid his side. Yet this region was highly advantageous for the Turkic horsemen, masters of the steppe. No matter how the terrain changed, it was difficult to overturn their advantage.

Li Zisheng seemed to be wasting his efforts. Had Liang Fu chosen to attack outright from the start, the battle might already be over. Nevertheless, though the crowd did not understand, they watched on.

Liang Fu, too, frowned deeply, choosing not to attack, but calmly observing as Li Zisheng laid out his plan.

"The four divisions, eighty thousand strong, withdraw to the foot of the mountain, leaving only one thousand handpicked men atop the peak. They bear the banners of the Tang, waving and shouting," Li Zisheng ordered, then led his men around the mountain to the far side, abandoning the prime position at the summit and leaving fewer than two thousand atop the heights.

Now the onlookers grew even more perplexed. Li Zisheng’s actions seemed akin to a moth flying into the flame. Had he held the summit, commanding the heights, he might still have had a chance, but he had willfully abandoned this excellent position.

"Truly, youth is reckless," even the bearded general could not comprehend this move, sighing softly in bewilderment.

"Li Zisheng, it seems I have overestimated you. This is a path to your own destruction; you cannot blame me for what follows," said Liang Fu, no longer waiting for the Lingwu waters to rise or the rains to fall harder. He promptly led fifty thousand soldiers to seize the abandoned heights.

"Good, I only feared you would not come," Li Zisheng laughed aloud.

"The soldiers of the Great Tang are Heaven’s chosen—this providence of time and place is tailored for us. Do you know why I abandoned the summit? It was to lure you deeper," he declared.

As Liang Fu’s fifty thousand men advanced up the mountainside, drawing ever closer to the summit, Li Zisheng revealed his plan.

"Eighty thousand soldiers, roll the wheels, release the vine ropes!" In Li Zisheng’s eyes flashed a bloodthirsty light—so fierce it made Liang Fu shudder.

In an instant, countless boulders were released from the mountaintop, crashing down upon the slopes. The Turkic soldiers had nowhere to hide; the ground was deliberately strewn with horse fodder by Li Zisheng, and the weary Turkic mounts, seeing the fodder, refused to move. Panic spread among their ranks.

On the sand table, Liang Fu’s fifty thousand men were almost entirely annihilated by the avalanche of stone.

"Impossible, impossible, impossible!" Liang Fu cried out.

"How could it be? Li Zisheng’s stone-rolling tactic can strike so far!" The bearded general and the others below were all dumbfounded, their faces full of disbelief.