Chapter Twenty-Six: Man Proposes, Heaven Disposes (Part Two)

The tactic of feinting east and striking west is a clever strategy, exploiting the opponent’s urgency to gain the upper hand. Yet, should one encounter an adversary who is not in haste, the plan is likely to fail. Quan Ce led his men on horseback and unexpectedly collided headlong with a group pushing carts and carrying sacks of provisions. These appeared mainly to be laborers, with fewer than a hundred armored soldiers among them.

Before Quan Ce and his men could react, the other side burst into uproar, abandoned their supplies, and bolted toward the city gates. “General... blessed by fortune, what shall we do?” His men’s eager eyes fixed upon him, ready to seize the opportunity; such a chance stumbled upon could not be ignored.

Quan Ce laughed aloud, gazing skyward—man proposes, heaven disposes. “If heaven grants and you do not take, you will be punished. Dismount, everyone, and march light and fast!” At his command, he set the example, leaping from his horse, stooped low, and sprinted, his hands swiftly stripping off his bright helmet and armor, tossing them aside. His crimson robe was conspicuous, so he shed it entirely, running on in only his underclothes.

The other officers, unsure of his intention, followed suit—abandoning helmet and armor, charging in their undergarments. They quickly caught up with the fleeing laborers, yet did not draw blades or cut down anyone, nor did they force their way ahead; instead, they kept their heads down and followed closely behind.

The laborers, terrified, scattered in all directions, like rabbits pursued by wolves, their desperation granting them speed beyond even trained soldiers. Even before reaching the city walls, they shouted at the top of their lungs, “Open the gates! Open the gates! Enemy forces approach!”

The gatekeeper craned his neck to observe, saw no sign of enemy troops or provisions, and waved his hand feebly, “Open the gate!” all the while cursing, “These useless fools, not a feather brought back! I haven’t tasted meat for over half a month already.”

As the gates opened, Quan Ce accelerated, mingling into the crowd’s vanguard and rushing in at the first opportunity.

“There are thieves! Thieves have entered the city!” the soldiers who had been guarding the provisions gasped out the situation.

The gatekeeper general was aghast, “Where are they?”

The soldiers and laborers looked around in confusion, unable to spot a single figure. Refusing to relax, the gatekeeper summoned his subordinates and confiscated all their weapons, ordered them to identify one another and weed out spies.

“General, they are not spies, they are an army—many people!” the soldiers protested loudly, distressed by his measures.

“Silence! Anyone who speaks again will be treated as a spy!” the gatekeeper would not listen, ordering torture, then leaving the gate for a tailor’s shop. When he emerged, he was now a wealthy idle man, no longer a general.

Having led his troops into the city, Quan Ce pressed on, directing his men to scatter through the streets, setting fires everywhere and sowing chaos, crying out, “Enemy troops have entered! Luoyang is lost!”

“There are enemy troops at the East Gate—run to the West Gate!”

“To the West Gate!”

From the East Gate all the way to the West Gate, the tumult swept up countless civilians, who surged toward the gates, Zheng Zhong seized the chaos to attack the gate guards, opened the gate, and crowds of citizens poured out, the wide gate now packed tight.

Quan Ce led his troops onto the walls, slaughtering enemy soldiers atop them, raising his arm and shouting, “The Eastern Capital’s Imperial Guards are here! Heavenly troops, enter quickly!”

“The Eastern Capital’s Imperial Guards are here! Heavenly troops, enter quickly!” The guards echoed his cry, their voices reverberating across the city.

Lai Chong and Lu Jiong stripped off their white garments, dipped them in fresh blood from their wounds, and wrote four bold crimson characters for “Eastern Capital Imperial Guards,” raising them high on a flagpole.

Zheng Zhong burst from the gate, seized a horse, and galloped toward the battlefield, shouting as he rode, “Eastern Capital Imperial Guards have broken the city! Heavenly troops, enter quickly!”

The rebel troops at the West Gate turned on hearing the shout; the banner atop the walls had already changed, their morale collapsed, terror flooding their hearts. Meanwhile, the loyalist army surged with renewed vigor. Qu Chongyu, hearing the news, no longer sat calmly in the command tent—he mounted his horse and personally led the charge, urging his troops to attack fiercely. The rebels scattered, their defensive lines shattered.

When Zhao Liu led his troops through the West Gate, the white flag with crimson characters of the Imperial Guards still fluttered. Dozens of the guards, blood-soaked, blocked the passage atop the wall, holding the high ground and desperately resisting the dense ranks of rebel soldiers climbing the stone steps. The two sides were locked in fierce melee.

“Imperial Guard brothers, the Left Martial Guard has arrived!” Zhao Liu roared, “Loose your arrows—kill these traitors!”

A volley of arrows rained down, clearing the rebels rapidly.

Zhao Liu hurried up the wall; hearing footsteps, the blood-blinded Imperial Guards cried out, swinging their blades wildly in frenzy.

“Brothers, it’s us—the heavenly troops are in the city!” Zhao Liu quickly parried, shouting repeatedly, reaching out to wipe the blood from their eyes, “Look, I am of the Left Martial Guard.”

The guards regained their senses, letting their blades fall to the ground with a clatter, utterly exhausted.

Only now did the Imperial Guards feel the deep ache throughout their bodies, especially their arms, which could barely be raised.

Zhao Liu reached the wall, finding Quan Ce sitting cross-legged, blood smeared across his face and armor, kneeling on one knee with both hands raised high, “General, mighty! Imperial Guards, mighty!”

Inside and outside the walls, countless soldiers echoed the cry, “General, mighty! Imperial Guards, mighty!”

Quan Ce leaned against the wall, listening to the cheers, closing his eyes in fatigue. Though utterly spent, his blood raced with pride—never had he so deeply embraced his identity as a soldier of Great Tang.

“Smoke! Thick smoke—there’s a fire!” In the city’s center, flames rose high, tongues of fire leaping skyward. Wind fed the blaze, swallowing the entire Prince Yue’s mansion.

When Zhang Guangfu entered the city, he found only charred rubble, ordering his troops to search everywhere, but to no avail.

Helpless, he withdrew from the city, returning to Xunyi County.

“Prime Minister! Prime Minister! I wish to surrender. I hold in my hands the letters evidencing Li Zhen’s collusion with court clans!” Li Zhen’s son-in-law, Pei Shoude, clad in white, waited outside the city, kneeling in the road before Zhang Guangfu, accompanied by a few servants carrying two boxes.

“Since you have left the city, why now return?” Zhang Guangfu squinted, scrutinizing him.

“Li Zhen ordered me to secure his wealth and men, to contact the Li clan and seek another uprising. Bathed in the Empress’s benevolence, I would not stand in the way of the heavens nor aid the wicked. Therefore, I ask to surrender,” Pei Shoude spoke earnestly, laying everything bare.

Quan Ce, standing beside Zhang Guangfu, clenched his jaw and stepped forward, clasping his hands, “Prime Minister, I have a few questions for him.”

Zhang Guangfu smiled, nodding repeatedly, “General Quan, please ask.”

“Pei Shoude, you are an official of the court—when Li Zhen rebelled, were you loyal?”

“You are Li Zhen’s son-in-law; in his lifetime, you did not share his hardship. After his death, you show no grief, instead betraying him. Is this filial?”

“You were the local official here; when war broke out, you fled for your own safety. Is this benevolent?”

“You intend to surrender, yet delayed your action, causing heavy losses to our army and suffering among the people. Is this righteous?”

Pei Shoude showed no shame, replying calmly, “General, your criticisms are correct. However, the Buddha says, ‘Lay down your blade and become a Buddha on the spot.’ Confucius says, ‘To recognize and correct mistakes is the greatest good.’ I have kept myself alive to serve the Empress—what harm in that?”

Quan Ce sneered, “The Buddha and Confucius speak profound truths beyond our grasp. Since our views differ, let the two sages judge.”

Pei Shoude, smug, asked, “General Quan, how shall this judgment be made?”

“Simple,” Quan Ce waved his hand, and his Imperial Guards surged forward. “I’ll send you to meet the two sages—once you have their verdict, do inform me.”

“What do you mean?” Pei Shoude asked, confused. But Lu Jiong understood, and with a swift stroke, Pei Shoude’s head fell. The guards slashed with their blades, dismembering him.

The gruesome scene shocked all; Zhang Guangfu’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably, but he forced a smile. “General Quan, you handled this perfectly. Such a man without virtue deserves execution by all. Take those two boxes and put the servants to death as well.”