Chapter Fourteen: Blitzkrieg

Five days later, the military camp in Fucheng was brightly lit. Liu Chen slammed Meng Qi’s good news heavily onto the table, then looked around at the generals in the tent. “Jiangyou has fallen, the gates of Yinping lie wide open. This is a heaven-sent opportunity!” His finger traced a winding, perilous path on the sheepskin map as he turned to Deng Zhong. “General Deng, your father says you know the terrain of Longxi well. This vanguard mission—”

“I am willing to go!” Deng Zhong stepped forward, armor clinking sharply. He glanced secretly at his father, Deng Ai, who gave a barely perceptible nod. Standing taller, Deng Zhong said, “I have once surveyed the seven hundred li treacherous path of Yinping with my father. Most of the camp commanders there are former Longxi troops…”

“Good!” Liu Chen suddenly drew his sword and slashed through a corner of the table, his eyes flashing cold light as he shouted, “Deng Ai is hereby promoted to Right Grand General of the Heavenly Strategy Army, and Deng Zhong to Cavalry Colonel of the Heavenly Strategy Army. They will lead three thousand elite troops to set out tonight. Remember, when you encounter Wei army outposts, deceive if you can; if you cannot deceive—” His sword made a threatening gesture across his own neck, causing a chill to fall over the tent.

Zhuge Zhan suddenly stood up. “Your Highness, I request permission to accompany them! General Deng has just surrendered; I fear the troops might…”

“Do you not trust me?” Deng Ai interrupted with a cold sneer, his tea cup creaking under his grip.

“It’s not that I distrust you, General, but since the Heavenly Strategy Army was just formed, the Cavalry Colonel may not have full control. This could jeopardize the king’s plan,” Zhuge Zhan hastened to explain.

“Enough. I trust Deng Zhong to handle this,” Liu Chen ended their dispute.

The narrow path to Yinping was known only to the Deng father and son. Liu Chen did not fear their betrayal. The plan to bring Deng Ai’s family from Luoyang was already underway; the Dengs had no escape.

“Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty,” Deng Ai said joyfully.

He knew the Heavenly Strategy Army was personally assembled by Liu Chen, drawn from seventy thousand elite troops from Chengdu plus more than twenty thousand surrendered soldiers from Yong and Liang. Liu Chen had selected fifty thousand of the best of the best—the core of the core.

“Left Grand General, take ten thousand troops and hold Jiangyou, guarding against forces from Jiange. Meng Qi will command ten thousand, with the Minister of Works stationed at Fucheng. Huang Chong will return to Mianzhu to manage affairs in Chengdu. Zhang Zun, the older and weaker soldiers who were culled, must be allocated land and properly settled without mistreatment.”

“Yes!” The generals responded with a roar, their faces alight with excitement.

In just over ten days, Yan Han was already ready to strike back.

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“Your Majesty, what of Jiang Wei?” Zhuge Zhan suddenly asked.

“Let him hold Jiange to delay Zhong Hui,” Liu Chen thought for a moment before adding, “When I reach Wudu, I will send word to Jiang Wei to attack at the right moment.”

Deng Ai stroked his graying beard, his expression grave.

On the surface, Liu Chen had seized the initiative, but from Jiangyou to Yinping, then attacking Wudu, breaking through Yangping Pass, occupying Hanzhong, and cutting off Zhong Hui’s retreat—the journey was long and fraught with uncertainty. Success could only be left to fate.

“Old General, I fear you must maintain contact with Zhong Hui from time to time to appease him, lest he leaves Jiange,” Liu Chen said, producing several letters written in imitation of Tian Xu’s handwriting. “Old General, you may deliver these to Jiange when the time is right.”

Deng Ai accepted the letters with a bitter smile.

“Zhong Hui, oh Zhong Hui—you’ve been outmaneuvered by His Majesty so thoroughly, how could you not be defeated?”

After giving his orders, Liu Chen sighed, “The crisis for Yan Han is no longer outside, but within.”

“With Your Majesty’s strategy, I believe victory will be ours,” Zhuge Shang said promptly.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

That very night, Deng Zhong led three thousand Heavenly Strategy troops as vanguard towards Yinping. Liu Chen personally commanded thirty thousand troops disguised in Wei armor, flying Wei banners, closely following and departing Fucheng.

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West of Chengdu city, inside a secret chamber of the Qiao mansion, the flames of a bronze lamp flickered restlessly, casting the silhouettes of five or six figures on the folding screen. Qiao Zhou’s gaunt fingers traced the rim of a teacup; his pale face looked even more somber under the lamp’s light.

“It’s been three days, yet no military report from Fucheng has reached His Majesty,” Grand Master Du Mian whispered, his gray beard trembling with his lips. “This morning, the Secretariat pressed Huang Hao, but that eunuch only said ‘the battle is stalemated.’”

“Gentlemen, look at this.” Qiao Zhou took a gilded bronze box from his sleeve and unfurled a silk scroll inside—Zhong Hui’s own handwriting. Qiao Zhou said proudly, “The Wei Grand General promises that anyone who surrenders a city will have their rank elevated three levels, ensuring the ancestral temple remains unharmed.”

“Even so, persuading His Majesty to surrender is no simple task. Jiang Wei commands at Jiange, Zhuge Zhan blocks at Fucheng. In this urgency, neither Zhong Hui nor Deng Ai can approach the city walls. How then can we convince His Majesty to yield?” someone shook their head.

“Sir, I heard the Prince of Beidi has left Chengdu and joined Zhuge Zhan’s army. Is this true?” Fei Cheng suddenly asked.

“The Prince of Beidi? What can he do—a mere frail scholar,” Qiao Zhou dismissed the notion. “In the current situation, no one can change the course. The Northern Purple Star shines brightly, illuminating eternity and heralding great prosperity.”

The others nodded. Qiao Zhou’s astrology held sway in Shu. Years ago, he had predicted Northern strength and advised Zhuge Liang against northern expeditions, which Zhuge Liang disregarded—leading to defeat.

Just then, a sharp knock sounded on the secret chamber door. Qiao Zhou’s face changed swiftly as he hid the bronze box in his sleeve. The door opened to reveal the Qiao mansion steward, soaked through. “Master, just received a pigeon post from Mianzhu—Zhang Zun is headed to Fucheng.”

“Zhang Zun to Fucheng? Has something changed there? Or perhaps Zhuge Zhan has taken Fucheng?” Qiao Zhou exclaimed.

The others’ faces darkened. With victory so near to forcing Liu Chan’s surrender, if Zhuge Zhan succeeded and the siege of Chengdu was lifted, how could Liu Chan capitulate?

In truth, the news of Zhong Hui and Deng Ai’s major offensive had been concealed by Huang Hao. The Shu nobles like Qiao Zhou had spies in every county; there was no way they didn’t know. They simply wished to keep Liu Chan in the dark.

In this light, Huang Hao deliberately kept secrets, while Qiao Zhou merely went with the flow.

But now, the situation appeared reversed. That paper strategist Zhuge Zhan might have seized Fucheng, suddenly spoiling Qiao Zhou and the others’ plans.

“Deng Ai’s army comes from Yinping with insufficient supplies. Prolonged stalemate will surely lead to defeat,” Qiao Zhou hesitated. “If this continues, disaster looms. The Three Kingdoms will return to their former chaos. The people of Shu will suffer through water and fire once more.”

Why did Qiao Zhou and his faction favor surrender? Partly because Shu’s strength was weak, but more so due to the repeated northern campaigns—Zhuge Liang’s six expeditions and Jiang Wei’s nine—that depleted Shu’s population. The Shu aristocracy’s interests were damaged, leading them to oppose northern campaigns and eventually desire surrender to Wei.