Chapter Sixty: Gongshan Biniu’s Defeat in Battle

"Yangzi, why don't we wait until Meng Di takes Fei City before fighting again?" Ji Wu stood to the right of the chariot, holding a long halberd, clad in thick armor, cutting an imposing figure—though in truth, his legs were trembling slightly.

He could hardly be blamed; the state of Lu prided itself on ritual, not on military prowess. Over a century ago, when Duke Xi of Lu, Ji Shen, ruled, Lu could still rely on its strength to maneuver among the feudal lords, occasionally conquering small states to show its might.

But after Duke Xi, things declined day by day. Not only did the powerful states like Qin and Jin pay Lu no heed, even the once-formidable but now waning Qi to the east would frequently raid Lu’s borders. Everyone knew Lu's army was weak.

A battle with tens of thousands involved had not been seen for many years; this was nothing like the skirmishes between noble youths in the streets—this could mean real bloodshed. Were it not for Yang Hu's strict command, Ji Wu would have already cast away his weapon and fled.

"Fei City is not so easily taken," Yang Hu scoffed. "You are of the Ji clan—you should know the fortifications of Fei. One zhang as a wall, three walls as a bastion, a hundred bastions make a city; Fei far exceeds a hundred bastions. Though called a town, it surpasses even the capital, Qufu. If they have enough provisions, it would take months, half a year at least, to breach it."

"So you had planned to seize Fei City yourself?" Ji Wu asked in confusion.

"It was only to placate Meng Di, to reassure him in his struggle against Gongshan Buniu."

Ji Wu’s face turned bitter. So Meng Di’s army was not to be counted on.

"Enough, pull yourself together." Yang Hu shot him a stern look. "You were trained in arms since childhood—how are you more cowardly than a farmer?"

On the opposite side, the enemy ranks were now in formation. The drums changed their rhythm; war chariots accelerated, foot soldiers jogged alongside, pressing forward.

Yang Hu’s own face grew grave. The situation had surpassed even his calculations—Gongshan Buniu, knowing himself to be at a disadvantage, was nevertheless launching an all-out attack. This was unexpected.

He glanced toward the hills on one side; the reinforcements he had prepared had yet to appear.

There was no time left. With a sigh, he ordered the drums sounded, commanding his troops to meet the enemy.

This battle would exact a heavy toll, Yang Hu mused as he beat the drum, already calculating how he might replenish his strength once the fighting ended.

"Yangzi, look!" Ji Wu, still searching for an escape route, suddenly spotted a force emerging from behind the hills.

"Uncle Sun Zhe arrives at just the right moment!" Yang Hu was overjoyed, the drumbeat surging with renewed vigor.

At the same time, the enemy noticed the anomaly.

"Sir, there are ambushers!"

Gongshan Buniu peered closely; from their banners, he could see these were not Meng’s men, but soldiers of the Uncle Sun clan.

So the Three Huan had joined forces with Yang Hu? Gongshan Buniu was both shocked and furious.

This, too, was the price of his years sequestered on the fringes, neglecting court affairs. With Yang Hu's support, Uncle Sun Zhe had gradually usurped the authority of the clan chief, Uncle Sun Bugan, cultivating many loyal followers.

This time, using a forged order, he had brought five hundred of his clan's warriors to aid Yang Hu.

Though few in number, their sudden appearance had a huge effect on morale, especially as it sent a misleading signal: Yang Hu and the Three Huan clans had joined forces!

Chaos rippled through the ranks, though they still pressed the attack.

There was no turning back now. To force a retreat would be to court disaster—the formation would collapse, and total defeat would be inevitable.

Gongshan Buniu pounded the drums with abandon, driving his men to accelerate, hoping to smash the enemy before Uncle Sun’s force could arrive—perhaps there remained a sliver of hope.

There was no time for tactical finesse. At the urging of the drums, the chariots thundered ahead, leaving their infantry support behind, smashing into the enemy lines.

The charge of four-horse chariots was terrifying, like a tidal wave crashing in, flesh and blood spraying wherever they passed.

Yang Hu had not expected Gongshan Buniu to be so decisive, launching a full-scale chariot assault at the outset. No matter who won, most of those chariots would be lost by battle’s end.

What a waste! Yang Hu’s heart ached. Compared to this, the rout of his vanguard seemed a minor loss.

Changing the drumbeat, he ordered the central ranks to fill the breach. Though the chariots were formidable, their momentum slowed after breaking the vanguard; some now could barely move, forced into close-quarters combat with surrounding enemies.

The infantry arrived soon after, joining the melee. Now, the advantage of superior equipment began to tell; Yang Hu’s troops were hard-pressed, slowly giving ground.

At this rate, it was only a matter of time before Yang Hu’s forces were defeated or routed.

Yet Gongshan Buniu felt no joy—time was precisely what he lacked!

The battle had become a bitter stalemate; though he seemed to have the upper hand, true victory could not be won quickly.

Gongshan Buniu knew that failing to rout the foe at first clash spelled defeat for him.

The warriors of Fei had not disappointed—brave and fierce, their bronze swords sharp—but the ambushers were already closing on their flank. All was lost.

"Retreat!" Gongshan Buniu ordered the retreat drums sounded, leading the charge out from the far side; those locked in combat could not disengage, but any who could escape would have to fend for themselves.

As the formation shifted, attack became retreat. Seeing their commander flee, the warriors of Fei lost all will to fight, scattering in wild flight.

Those who could not escape dropped to their knees in surrender—after all, they had served the Ji clan before; it was merely a change of masters.

Yang Hu ordered a token pursuit, then commanded the army to halt.

Ji Wu, suddenly invigorated, saw Gongshan Buniu still had over a thousand battered soldiers with him and eagerly sought permission to pursue.

"No need. Let Meng Di handle it," Yang Hu shook his head. Defeating Gongshan Buniu was only the first step in his plan.

The spoils from this battle were plentiful. Though the fighting had been fierce, it was brief; few had actually died, while two or three thousand had been captured, along with much weaponry and leather armor. Only the loss of over half the chariots pained Yang Hu greatly.

The surrender of the defeated troops went smoothly—after all, Yang Hu was still the steward of the Ji clan, and Ji Wu its marshal.

Uncle Sun Zhe came to pay his respects and brought troubling news: the Meng clan was gathering troops and appeared to be taking action.

Yang Hu's campaign had been conducted in utmost secrecy, but the movement of a large army could not go entirely unnoticed. So he had ordered Uncle Sun Zhe to keep a close watch for any signs from the Meng clan.

But Uncle Sun Zhe knew little and could not confirm whether the Meng would send out troops; for now, the worry had to be set aside. Yang Hu ordered the army to rest for a day, then to march on Fei City.

The Meng clan was indeed making preparations, but not to ambush Yang Hu; rather, they were fortifying their own city of Cheng.

At dawn, Zhong Sun Heji found a wooden tablet in his study, inscribed with four words: "Yang Hu marches forth."

The study was heavily guarded—no one could approach. The tablet must have been thrown in through the window.

He glanced up at the tall trees in the courtyard and shouted, "Men, cut down every tree over three zhang high in the courtyard!"

Panic swept the residence; Gong Lian Chufu and Zifu He hurried over.

The three conferred but could not determine whether the tablet’s warning was true, so they sent out scouts.

Sure enough, Yang Hu’s troops were nowhere to be found!

In the present Lu, only the Meng clan could rival Yang Hu. Learning that his army was missing, Zhong Sun Heji immediately realized: this move was likely aimed at the Meng clan.