Chapter Three: Yielding Fucheng
Page (1/3)
The night was as dark as ink, and the outline of Fucheng flickered faintly in the biting wind. Liu Chen stood by the railing, watching as the snow on the city walls was whipped into drifting flakes by the night breeze. His gaze fixed on the direction where Deng Ai’s army might appear; the spark of determination in his eyes had not dimmed.
“Your Majesty, this victory is great—the army’s morale soars like a rainbow!” Zhuge Shang arrived, stepping through the snow, ice clinging to his armor and falling off in shards. His tone betrayed his excitement.
Liu Chen nodded slightly, tapping his fingers on the cold city bricks. “Send orders at once. Strengthen the defenses under cover of darkness and inventory all weapons. That old fox Deng Ai will not give up easily; the real battle lies ahead.”
“Understood!” Zhuge Shang clasped his fists and turned to leave. As he glanced back at Liu Chen’s upright figure, an indescribable reverence welled up inside him. This Northern Lord was a far cry from the gentle prince spoken of in rumors.
Inside the county office, candlelight flickered. Liu Chen sat firmly at his desk, his gaze sharp as a blade, fixed on Zhou Feng, the trembling magistrate of Fucheng below the steps. The man, a civil official in his forties, looked as pale as death, his forehead pressed against the cold brick, his breath trembling.
“Magistrate Zhou,” Liu Chen’s voice was slow and measured but carried an icy chill, “when will Deng Ai’s forces reach Fucheng?”
Zhou Feng, having served Shu Han for years, had surrendered the city upon Deng Zhong’s arrival. By Liu Chen’s temperament, this warranted extermination of his entire clan.
His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, cold sweat soaking through his official robe. “R-Return, Your Majesty, at most three days… Deng Zhong said the main force is only about a hundred li away, moving light and fast, covering forty li each day…”
Liu Chen exchanged a glance with Zhuge Shang, both seeing the gravity reflected in each other’s eyes—they had just taken Fucheng, and Deng Ai’s thirty thousand elite troops were already within striking distance.
“Take him away. Watch him closely,” Liu Chen waved a hand. As his guards led Zhou Feng away, he immediately spread out the map. “Zichong, what do you think?”
Zhuge Shang leaned in, frowning. “We only have three thousand cavalry, and with the surrendered troops, no more than four thousand in total. Deng Ai commands thirty thousand fierce warriors. A direct fight is hopeless. Your Majesty, should we retreat to Mianzhu and join forces with your father?”
“No.” Liu Chen’s finger pressed heavily on Fucheng’s spot on the map. “If we retreat, we hand over all territory north of the Fu River. Deng Ai’s supply lines will be unobstructed, making our defense even harder. Your father commands seventy thousand troops, reputed elite, but they have long dwelled in Chengdu and lost their fighting spirit. How can they stand against Deng Ai’s Northwest warriors?”
Zhuge Shang fell silent—he knew his father’s army better than anyone.
“But the disparity in forces…”
Suddenly, Liu Chen smiled, a cunning gleam flashing in his eyes. “That’s why we will ‘yield Fucheng.’”
“‘Yield’?” Zhuge Shang’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Page (2/3)
“Order the entire army to prepare to withdraw from Fucheng,” Liu Chen’s voice quickened as he outlined the plan. “You lead fifteen hundred cavalry to escort the grain and supplies, retreating along the southern bank of the Fu River toward Mianzhu. Along the way, deliberately drop some grain sacks, making it look like a rout. I will lead the rest to hide in the northern Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge, waiting for the right moment to strike.”
He paused, then added, “Have Zhou Feng appear before the people and warn them that the Wei army approaches, urging them to seek refuge in the mountains. Also, tell your father that without my orders, not a single soldier is to engage in battle defending Mianzhu. When to counterattack, I will decide.”
Zhuge Shang’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Your Majesty means to…”
“Deng Ai is suspicious by nature; we must give him a false sense of security.” Liu Chen patted his shoulder. “Go carefully.”
“Understood!”
That night, currents shifted beneath the surface of Fucheng. Zhou Feng, with clerks in tow, went door to door, beating drums and wailing to urge the people to flee to the mountains. Meanwhile, the Shu army slipped out in batches, the supply teams dragging their feet and letting grain bags “accidentally” fall with loud thuds that echoed through the silent streets.
Three days later, Deng Ai’s army arrived at the northern outskirts of Fucheng. The seasoned general reined in his horse on the snowy plain, ice crystals clinging to his graying beard. His sharp eyes scanned the wide-open city gates.
“General, scouts report the Shu army has withdrawn,” his deputy Tian Xu whispered.
At that moment, several horsemen arrived, escorting the disheveled Zhou Feng. Zhou Feng dismounted with a thud and knelt in the snow, sobbing loudly. “General! That scoundrel Liu Chen fled to Mianzhu overnight upon hearing of your arrival! Before leaving, he forcibly requisitioned grain and even pressured the people into the mountains…”
“Liu Chen?” Deng Ai narrowed his eyes. “The fifth son of Liu Shan, Northern Lord?”
“Exactly!” Zhou Feng wept uncontrollably. “A man of extreme cruelty—he executed those who refused to surrender upon entering the city. General Shi Zuan was slain by his hand, and the young general… the young general was captured alive!”
“What?” Deng Ai clenched his reins tightly, his horse’s hooves gouging deep pits in the snow. “Shi Zuan killed? Deng Zhong captured?” He turned to Tian Xu. “This youth bears the spirit of his grandfather? Why was there no prior intelligence?”
Before Sima Zhao’s campaign against Shu, they had thoroughly understood Shu Han’s situation, even the eunuch Huang Hao’s influence. Yet they had never heard of Liu Chen’s exceptional prowess. Now this Northern Lord had suddenly appeared, capturing the enemy’s son alive and killing a general—it was truly alarming.
“Magistrate Zhou is loyal indeed,” Wang Qi sneered nearby. “Why didn’t he flee with the Shu army?”
Zhou Feng’s face went pale, then he cried all the harder. “I only pretended to surrender to wait for Your Excellency! Liu Chen wanted to execute me, but Zhuge Shang intervened, saying I could stay to pacify the people…”
Deng Ai raised a hand to silence him and turned his gaze back to Fucheng. “What of the Shu army’s supplies?”
Page (3/3)
“Insufficient!” Zhou Feng hurried to reply. “I heard them complain that grain would only last three days, which is why they hastily retreated to Mianzhu. However… they took a considerable amount of supplies with them.”
A sharp light flashed in Deng Ai’s eyes. “Tian Xu, order the entire army to rest in the city for half a day. Pursue them in the afternoon!”
“General, think twice!” Tian Xu urged anxiously. “The Shu retreat is orderly—it may be a trap. It would be better to hold Fucheng and wait for reinforcements…”
“Opportunity cannot be missed.” Deng Ai’s tone was resolute. “If Liu Chen and Zhuge Zhan join forces, they will be harder to defeat. Their supplies are low now; this is the perfect time to strike! Most of Chengdu’s grain has likely already been sent to Jiange for Jiang Wei.”
Tian Xu wanted to object further, but Deng Ai spurred his horse forward. “Enter the city!”
Along the southern bank of the Fu River, Zhuge Shang’s cavalry moved slowly forward. His deputy looked at the “lost” grain sacks by the roadside, puzzled. “General, why drop grain?”
“The king said, bait is needed to fish.” Zhuge Shang glanced back at the northern mountains, a faint smile curling his lips. “Deng Ai is cautious by nature; we must make him believe we are truly fleeing.”
In his heart, he silently prayed: Your Majesty, now it’s up to you.
Meanwhile, inside the natural cave of Eagle’s Sorrow Gorge north of the city, Liu Chen chewed on hardtack soaked in icy water. Fifteen hundred soldiers cramped inside the cave; though the wind was bitter cold, not a single man complained—if even the prince shared their hardships, who could grumble?
“Your Majesty, Deng Ai has led his main army into the city; the rear guard is following,” Liu Neng, a personal guard, lifted the curtain and entered, a smile lighting his face.
Liu Chen swallowed the last bite of his food and wiped his mouth. “Good! Tell the brothers Deng Ai has taken the bait. We hold out for two more days, wait for his main force to pursue beyond Fucheng, then we strike back and retake the city!”
Outside the cave, the wind and snow intensified, as if gathering strength for the impending surprise attack.