Chapter Sixty-One: Reactions

There was no crowing of roosters, no sound of horns; when Liu Ji awoke, daylight was already filtering through the mouth of the cave.

Had the snowstorm ceased?

He crawled out from the soft wolf pelts, an acrid stench assaulting his nose, making him sneeze. The smell was unbearable—if he hadn’t been exhausted yesterday, he would never have burrowed into such a place.

In the cave, ten or so men lay about, the severely wounded soldiers he had tended to the previous day. Liu Ji sat up, turning over the pelts one by one and feeling their foreheads. On the third, he found a burning fever, and upon checking the wound, discovered that it had festered.

“Old Shi, Old Shi, wake up!” He still remembered this unfamiliar swordsman.

Old Shi did not stir at first, so Liu Ji clasped his hand—the same hand that once wielded the curved blade so effortlessly. Now, it was limp and powerless. Perhaps hearing Liu Ji’s voice, Old Shi opened his eyes and grinned.

“I... just had a dream. In the largest tavern of Chang’an, holding the most beautiful courtesan. What... a life of pleasure!”

“That’s no trouble. Once this battle is won, we’ll present captives in the capital.”

“I won’t... see that day.” Old Shi shook his head with difficulty. “I’ve already done my part—no regrets.”

Liu Ji felt a deep sorrow but didn’t know what to say. “If there’s anything you wish to entrust, tell me.”

“Old Shi... a lone soul, nothing to pass on. Old Zhang’s a good man—give his daughter a way to live.”

“You have my word.”

He had only time to say this; Old Shi closed his eyes before him, seemingly without regret.

In Liu Ji’s heart, it was as if a thousand mythical beasts rampaged through, stifling him with frustration. Was fate mocking him, letting his soul reside in such a wastrel’s body?

After inspecting everyone, fifteen of the gravely injured soldiers—six died on the spot, two remained with persistent high fevers and little hope. Compared to Liu Ji’s distress, Zhang Wujia seemed more accepting.

“Seven survived—this is your merit. Under these conditions, it’s already a miracle. With such wounds, even returning to camp might not have saved them. Don’t blame yourself.”

After much struggle, those two also passed without a miracle. The eighteen dead were buried near the cave, each grave marked by a tree with their names carved upon the trunk, so that one day, if possible, they might be moved or honored.

No matter how sorrowful, the necessary tasks must be done. The survivors, after bidding farewell to their fallen comrades, repacked their belongings, pulled the sleds, and, with those still unable to walk, set out once more onto the boundless glacier.

The Hispa Glacier connects with the Biafo Glacier, stretching over two hundred li—making it the longest land glacier outside the poles. Now, Liu Ji led his battered troops across its expanse.

Two days later, they reached a high ridge covered in ice. Liu Ji breathed a sigh of relief—the direction was correct, his judgment sound. This was the Hispa mountain pass; crossing it would bring them to the Biafo Glacier, the edge of the Dabolu region.

In these days, they had consumed most of their stores of wolf meat and provisions brought from the outset. The rescued wounded were recovering; only a few still needed to be pulled by sled, while most of the lightly injured had healed. Now was the best moment to cross the pass.

“Rest well for a day. Tomorrow we cross the mountain.”

Still, Liu Ji chose to conserve their strength, minimizing risk—especially since the weather was gloomy, and he feared another snowstorm.

Of the hundred soldiers at Qian Pit Garrison, only half were selected by commander Liu Ji; the other half, under subcommander Xu Guangjing, remained as the vanguard, reaching the prearranged location after three days.

They arrived at a river valley several li from the Bo Yi River.

A force of over fifty men, with more than a hundred and twenty mounts, fifty pack horses, thirty donkeys, and thirty porters—an impressive sight.

“This is the place. Unload everything and set camp on high ground. Without orders, no one is to advance. If you alarm the Tubo, don’t blame me for not warning you.”

Xu Guangjing was in poor spirits; Liu Ji’s selection had favored the fifty strongest, but as subcommander, he and Zhang Wujia were destined to be left behind. Before he could decide, Zhang Wujia had simply assigned him, leaving him here.

Was he really not among the strongest fifty?

Though his men dared not complain, their looks unsettled him, and he had nowhere to vent his frustration. It twisted inside him, making him irritable, and no one dared provoke him.

“Xu the Big Stick.”

Hearing someone call his nickname, Xu Guangjing erupted in anger. Without turning his head, he began to curse.

“Who’s the fool who dares call you—”

Luckily, the curse wasn’t uttered; he saw his own commander’s increasingly grim face.

“Is Qian Pit Garrison aiming for the skies? Even I can’t control you now? Don’t forget, your commander is my apprentice. Isn’t it right for me to discipline his men? Or do you want to challenge me like those barbarians?”

Tian Zhen rode a fine white horse, his skin as black as coal, creating a striking contrast. Coupled with his square head, he exuded a peculiar charm.

Xu Guangjing felt no amusement—he hurried over, eagerly holding Tian Zhen’s reins and apologizing profusely.

“How would I know it was you? It’s those scoundrels riling me up. You, gracious as always, surely wouldn’t take offense. Besides, our commander is still in the mountains.”

Mentioning Liu Ji dispelled Tian Zhen’s anger.

With Xu’s help, Tian Zhen dismounted. He had brought only a squad of guards; the main force was still behind. Led by Xu Guangjing, he surveyed the valley. Despite their unruly tempers, these men worked efficiently.

In just half a day, they had established a preliminary defensive and alert system; even rows of barricades were set up to withstand cavalry charges, creating an atmosphere of impending battle.

This caution impressed Tian Zhen, though he hid it. “Have you sent anyone ahead?”

“Yes, they’ll return in half an hour at most.”

Xu Guangjing nodded, and as if to prove him right, within fifteen minutes, two riders galloped along the valley.

“The Tubo have made no move, only…”

Tian Zhen interrupted, urgently, “Only what?”

“They removed the planks from the vine bridge.”

Tian Zhen was momentarily stunned, then realized—the Tubo were clearly unwilling to give in.