Chapter 139: Slaying Eagles on the Precipice (Part 2)

As the New Year approached, Chang’an was especially bustling. In mid-December, Li Linfu announced to the court and the public in Chang’an the letter sent by Du Gu Hao, the transport commissioner of Jianghuai. After the rivers thawed, four million dan of rice would be transported to Chang’an, causing rice prices to plummet. Grain stores and wealthy families rushed to sell their stock, with prices dropping from 160 wen per dan to 70 wen per dan. This stabilized public sentiment and improved law and order.

Li Longji was overjoyed and issued an order allowing Chang’an’s gates to remain open from the 25th day of the 12th lunar month until New Year’s Eve, so the city could celebrate the New Year. On the night of the 27th, Li Longji held a grand banquet in Xingqing Palace to celebrate the New Year.

The halls of Xingqing Palace were tall and spacious, capable of accommodating five thousand people at once. Inside, the air was warm and filled with music. Groups of dancers moved gracefully with their long sleeves fluttering in the air, while maids and eunuchs busily served food and wine. With their long skirts flowing and steps light, they prepared for the arrival of Li Longji. Since the banquet had not yet begun officially, the Tang officials sat at their tables, whispering to each other about strange events from various places and the latest gossip. This was an informal banquet—besides officials, princesses, county princesses, and princes of the Li family also attended. The most eye-catching figures were the more than ten members of the Yang family mixed among the royal relatives: the three Yang sisters, Yang Xian, Yang Qi, Yang Zhu, and Yang Zhao, a newly returned nobleman ready to report to the court. They stood even straighter than ordinary ministers.

Lady Yang Huahua of Guo State sat with her elder and middle sisters among the group of county princesses. Over the past few months, Yang Huahua’s power had soared. She could enter the imperial palace at will, and whatever message she passed to Li Longji was usually immediately approved with the reply, “Do as ordered!” Her greatest hobby was acting as a matchmaker, especially for princes and princesses. With Li Longji’s approval, this hobby gradually became part of her authority—princes and princesses had to get her consent before marrying someone. Yang Huahua wasn’t unreasonable; it depended on how much money they were willing to pay to influence her.

That day, Yang Huahua was dressed exceptionally beautifully. She wore a cloud-shaped hairstyle, a bright yellow short top with narrow sleeves and a bare chest, a green long skirt that trailed on the ground, and a light red embroidered belt around her waist. Without any makeup, she was still extremely stunning. She was listening to the flattery from the princesses and county princesses when, glancing over, she saw her middle sister, Lady Yang Yuzhu of Han State, looking worried. She smiled and said, “Sister, are you worried about the Ningbi matter again?”

Yang Yuzhu’s daughter was named Cui Ningbi; she was fifteen years old with an ordinary appearance. Yang Yuzhu was determined to arrange her marriage into the royal family, but her fourth sister, Yang Yuhuan, strongly opposed it, which troubled Yang Yuzhu greatly. She sighed and said, “What can I do? The Empress doesn’t agree.”

A hint of disdain flashed in Yang Huahua’s eyes as she said, “It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t agree. Which prince do you like among them? I’ll decide for you.”

Yang Yuzhu’s eyes lit up. She already knew her third sister was very resourceful; maybe it could really work. She immediately smiled and said, “Good! Let me think about it and tell my third sister in a few days.”

Just then, a loud shout came from afar: “His Majesty the Emperor is here!”

The hall fell dead silent. Li Longji entered slowly through the side door, accompanied by Yang Yuhuan and surrounded by a group of guards. The two stopped in front of their thrones, and the ministers stood up, bowing and saying, “Your servants pay their respects to His Majesty the Emperor! And to the Empress!”

“Everyone, rise.”

Li Longji was somewhat distracted. He had just received urgent news from Longyou—Geshu Han had launched the battle for Shibao City as planned, aiming to capture it by noon today. He had specifically instructed Wang Xianzhong, the eunuch in charge of Longyou, to send messages about the battle progress via carrier pigeons at all times. But it was already night, and the pigeons should have arrived by now. Li Longji had originally planned to wait in his study, but he had to rush here because of the banquet.

The ministers sat down again, and Li Longji picked up a cup of wine and said, “I have been closely following the battle for Shibao City all day. Results should be available by now. Since the Tang Dynasty lost Shibao City in the 29th year of the Kaiyuan era, our soldiers have launched numerous campaigns to reclaim it, only to suffer defeat time and again. This time, I have assembled 150,000 troops to attack Shibao City, determined to take it back at any cost. As the New Year approaches, families should be together and enjoying peace under this prosperous era. Yet I think of our soldiers who are fighting bravely for our country. With this first cup of wine, I offer my respects to those who have sacrificed their lives for the nation, hoping their spirits may rest in peace.”

After saying that, he slowly poured the wine at his feet.

……

At the same time as the grand banquet was held in Xingqing Hall, the battle inside Shibao City reached its most critical moment. The heavy snow provided excellent cover for the Tang army. No one could be seen twenty steps away. It was not until the Tang troops broke into the mountain path leading to Shibao City that they realized boulders and stones were raining down on them. More than 200 soldiers armed with halberds on the mountain path couldn’t dodge in time and were crushed to death by the falling rocks, with their screams echoing endlessly.

Inside the mountain path, 400 soldiers at the forefront were blocked by huge rocks and trees, unable to climb upward. Rocks rained down on them like a storm, killing over eighty of them in just a short while.

Li Siyeh’s eyes turned red with urgency. He roared loudly and swung his sword to split a giant tree. His deputy, Tian Zhen, used his head and shoulders to push heavy stones, and finally a gap appeared between several massive rocks. With two more slashes from his sword, he managed to cut a wide gap. With a fierce push, the stones blocking the path were finally moved aside. The Tang army surged upward. Tie Ren Xinuoluo, the commander of Shibao City, saw the situation as extremely critical. He shouted, “Charge!” Waving his spear, he led hundreds of Tubo soldiers down the stone path. A bloody battle ensued between the Tang and Tubo armies in the narrow passage. The Tang soldiers’ halberds could not be used effectively in such a confined space, forcing them into close combat with the Tubo troops. The Tubo soldiers, nearly frantic, stopped throwing stones and fought desperately against the Tang army. Soldiers from both sides fought with their teeth, swords, and daggers. The stone path turned into a slaughterhouse, an entrance to hell. Countless people died in despair; their bodies were crushed together and used as stepping stones, with blood flowing like rivers and staining the stone walls on both sides. The Tang army advanced step by step up the mountain, paying the price of countless deaths for each advance. Tie Ren Xinuoluo screamed frantically to the sky, “Our reinforcements! When will they arrive?”
…
The Tubo reinforcements were less than five li away from Shibao City. Yet, that mere five li of mountain path became a path of death for the Tubo people. Eighty thousand of the Tubo’s main forces were confronted by three thousand Tang soldiers. After a day and night of fierce fighting, over thirty thousand Tubo soldiers had died, including Prime Minister Shang Jiexi and dozens of high-ranking officials who were killed on the spot. The Tubo king, Chizudezan, was severely injured, and even their commander, Dazhalugong, suffered internal injuries. The Tubo people paid an extremely heavy price.
The Tang army’s third defense line was located on a huge cliff, with a mountain path about seven feet wide winding upward. The straight-line distance was three hundred steps, but the path along the cliff was actually three li long. The long and narrow path posed difficulties for the Tubo army’s attack. Meanwhile, the space on the cliff was also extremely limited. The Tang army could only deploy three hundred soldiers at a time, with no cover. This unfavorable terrain caused heavy casualties on both sides. The only advantage for the Tang army was the weather—the strong mountain winds had stopped, and heavy snow covered Chiling, making it impossible to see anyone twenty steps away.
The king’s severe injuries filled Dazhalugong with deep hatred toward the Tang army. He sent thirty thousand troops to attack and issued strict orders: they would not retreat until every Tang soldier was killed.

Snowflakes filled the air, screams of battle echoed everywhere, and the smoke from gunpowder explosions hung over the mountain path. Waves of Tibetan soldiers charged upward in dense formations; those who died were replaced by more, with no choice and no way to retreat. Their only fate was death.

The mountain path was littered with the corpses of Tibetan soldiers, piled up layer upon layer, serving as cover for subsequent attacks. Death reigned supreme amidst endless cries of agony.

But on a slightly flatter rock halfway up the path, hundreds of Tibetan soldiers used hammers and chisels to clear a new route. Large chunks of rock were broken away as they advanced step by step, gradually creating a new path leading to the valley.

On the cliff, the Tang army also suffered heavy losses. All the stones had been thrown, and most of the arrows had been used. Annihilation loomed ever closer; only eight hundred of them remained.

A deluge of arrows prevented the Tang soldiers from lifting their heads. The mountain ridge was covered with their bodies, most of them killed by arrows to the head. Over three hundred Tang soldiers lay on the ground, fighting back desperately against another wave of Tibetan attacks from a sideways position.

Their arrows flew like swarms of locusts, forming a net of projectiles. Powerful arrows pierced through the gray snow mist, punching through the Tibetan shields. Cries of pain echoed throughout the mountain path. Meanwhile, dense volleys of arrows were fired from the path, whizzing above the Tang soldiers’ heads.

With a scream, a young Tang soldier had his eye pierced by an arrow; a barbed arrow penetrated his skull, killing him on the spot. Another muffled cry came as a Tang soldier sat up, clutching his throat—an arrow had gone through it. He was in extreme pain, gasping for breath. But as soon as he sat up, three arrows struck his chest at once, causing him to fall backward, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the falling snow.

Li Qing’an’s bow was broken. He held a shield in his left hand and a sword in his right, crouched beside a huge rock. His eyes were bloodshot, his back wound had split open, and clots of blood had frozen into ice. He commanded the Tang army in a hoarse voice.

His vision was sharper than ordinary people’s; he could see shadows thirty steps away. The shadows on the mountain path had grown denser, indicating that large groups of enemies were approaching. Suddenly, his leg seized with intense pain—an arrow had hit his left leg, piercing through the bone. The agony was so severe it nearly knocked him out. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out the arrow, and blood gushed forth instantly.

Li Qing’an took a deep breath and ordered in a hoarse voice, “Throw the gunpowder bombs!”

On the cliff, two Tang soldiers with long arms immediately lit the gunpowder packets. When the fuses were almost burned out, they threw them fiercely down the cliff, then covered their heads and lay on the rocks. Instantly, two deafening explosions echoed through the mountain path, crushing dozens of people to pieces, while powerful shockwaves sent hundreds more tumbling off the cliff. Two plumes of black smoke rose into the air, and the mountain path fell dead silent, as if life itself had ceased there.
…
The atmosphere in the Xingqing Hall also reached its climax. One hundred and eighty dancers in white long gowns appeared like fairies gliding across the stage, accompanied by the melodious sounds of chimes and flutes. The famous “Feathered Robe Dance” began to play slowly in the hall. With graceful movements and enchanting postures, dozens of singers sang softly, their beautiful melodies echoing throughout the hall.
“The view from the pavilion is endless; the lotus flowers by the river have yet to return. I am ill and lack the strength. Moreover, the silk fans are growing sparse, and the gauze robes are starting to fray—time flies by in an instant. Alas, the swallows on the beam are like guests. Where is the person? A faint moonlight filters through the curtain, seemingly illuminating their features.”
The beauties were as pure as jade, the wine sweet and rich, the music like pearls tumbling and jade shaking, and the melodies like heavenly sounds. Thousands in the hall were utterly captivated, stroking their beards and shaking their heads gently. Groups of noblewomen waved their light silk fans, exchanging affectionate glances, as the entire hall was immersed in a dreamlike realm.
…
The sudden silence was merely a buildup to violence. Suddenly, wild screams erupted in the mountain path as thousands of Tubo soldiers charged forward. The Tubo spear troops replaced the sword and bow troops. The deaths caused by Tang archers could no longer stop their fury. As Tubo soldiers fell to arrows ahead, those behind surged forward, stepping on their comrades’ bodies to reach the cliff. Three hundred Tang soldiers leaped up, shouting as they drew their swords to fight.
“Kill!”
The Tang soldiers charged fearlessly at the spears of thousands of Tubo soldiers, none of them retreating. At that moment, there was no trace of fear or weakness in them. At that moment, the courage of the Han people burned brightly in their hearts, their blood boiling with passion.
Spear tips pierced chests, and swords sliced off heads. One Tang soldier had his lower abdomen pierced by a spear; he screamed, hugged the attacker, bit off the Tubo soldier’s ear, and rolled down the steep cliff together. Another Tang soldier had his lower back grabbed by a Tubo soldier, and a spear pierced his chest. At the moment of his death, he used all his strength to thrust his sword backward, piercing his own chest and abdomen as well as those of the Tubo soldier behind him…
More and more Tubo soldiers climbed onto the cliff. The last four hundred Tang soldiers in the valley rushed out to reinforce under the leadership of Li Fei Shouyu. At that moment, over twenty Tubo soldiers climbed up the rocks and charged at the two soldiers who had thrown the gunpowder. The two soldiers exchanged a glance, smiled grimly, and lit the last four packets of gunpowder.

“Die!”
The two of them rushed down the cliff carrying gunpowder bombs, which exploded one after another among the dense Tibetan army. Nearly a thousand elite Tibetan soldiers were killed, leaving large gaps in the mountain path, while piles of mutilated corpses blocked it. The lack of reinforcements for the Tibetan army gave the Tang forces a chance to survive. Li Qingqing slew four Tibetan soldiers in a row and shouted, “Drive them off…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence—his voice had given out. But the massive explosions boosted the morale of the Tang soldiers, who managed to push over a thousand Tibetan soldiers off the cliff in one go. For the first time, the Tibetan army fled in fear. The Tang soldiers cheered, but at that moment, screams came from the entrance of the valley. They turned around in shock.
The Tibetans had finally carved out a new path at the valley entrance, and countless of their soldiers had already invaded the valley.
…
In the Xingqing Hall, Li Longji had no appetite for wine anymore and hurried back to his study, with several prime ministers following him.
The study was brightly lit. The first pigeon message, sent urgently through relay, had finally arrived. Li Linfu and the prime ministers held their breath as they watched Li Longji open the message with trembling hands. There was only one sentence in it: “As of noon, Shibao City has not been taken.”
Li Longji sat down weakly. Silence filled the study. After a long while, Li Linfu said softly, “Your Majesty, failing to take Shibao City on time does not mean failure. I believe Ge Shuhan will not disappoint you.”
Li Longji shook his head gently and smiled bitterly. “The plan to take the city by noon was made considering that Tibetan reinforcements would arrive. Even with Dong Yanqing holding them back, once the Tibetans learned of it, they would surely send troops to help—at least twenty thousand. But Li Qing’an’s force, tasked with blocking them, has only three thousand men. How could he possibly withstand an attack from twenty thousand Tibetans? This time, Shibao City is hopeless again.”
No one spoke anymore. Li Longji walked slowly to the window, hands behind his back. He pulled back the curtains and gazed at the dark red sky in the west, sighing softly. He murmured to himself, “As long as Shibao City isn’t taken in a day, Longyou won’t be at peace for a day.”
…
Inside Shibao City, Li Siyeh’s army had advanced to ten steps away from the city gates. They could even see the inscription on the stone wall above the gates—the words “Shibao City” were faintly visible. They had been written by Emperor Yang of Sui, but the Tibetans had also carved “Iron Blade City” below in their language.

The stone path was littered with corpses; the stone steps were completely covered by them, their original color invisible. With just ten steps left, the Tang army was about to storm the castle. Yet it took them nearly an hour to cover those ten steps. Both armies were exhausted, too weak even to lift their swords. They pushed and shoved each other, punching with fists and hitting with helmets, relying on sheer willpower to see who could hold on the longest. At that moment, Li Siye bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, tearing off a piece. The pain spurred him to muster his last strength. With a roar, he thrust the dagger in his hand into the chest of the Tibetan general Tie Ren Xino Luo.

Tie Ren Xino Luo’s eyes widened in shock. His life was fading rapidly. He turned back in despair to look at the beacon fire, then slowly closed his eyes. Li Siye took another step forward—nine steps left, then eight.

……

About two thousand Tibetan soldiers rushed into the valley, which was filled with wounded Tang soldiers. Li Fei Shouyu led four hundred Tang soldiers in a desperate attempt to reinforce them, but they still couldn’t stop the Tibetan army from advancing. Continuous screams came from the valley. Li Qing’an’s heart was torn apart—his brothers who had followed him for years had been utterly annihilated at Chi Ling. He glanced back at the stone castle. It was already dawn, the snow had stopped, and the stone castle was clearly visible, with Tibetan flags still fluttering on its walls.

At that moment, the Tibetan spear troops on the mountain path charged back. The sound of running feet and battle cries came from not far away. Large groups of Tibetan soldiers suddenly appeared, their fierce faces clearly visible.

Li Qing’an remained eerily calm. With a hoarse voice, he slowly said to the remaining hundred or so Tang soldiers around him, “We resisted eighty thousand Tibetan soldiers with just three thousand for a day and a night. Though we were all killed in the end, we did our best. If there’s another life, I wish to take back the stone castle with my brothers again!”

He swung his battle sword and roared with all his strength, “I die for the Great Tang—without regret!”

“Brothers, our last battle!”

“Last battle!” The Tang soldiers roared in unison.

Just as Li Qing’an was about to charge at the enemy, He Yanming, standing behind him, suddenly turned his sword and smashed it hard against Li Qing’an’s back of the head. Li Qing’an’s vision went black, and he collapsed to the ground.

The sudden turn of events stunned the Tang soldiers, who angrily turned their gaze toward He Yanming.

He Yanming, tears streaming down his face, helped Li Qing’an up and handed him over to several soldiers. “Carry the general to the foot of the stone castle. Even if he must die, he must die there!”

The soldiers were stunned and unsure what to do. He Yanming pushed them fiercely and shouted, “Go! Hurry up!”

A few soldiers carried Li Qing’an on their backs along the path toward Shibao City, watching them go until they disappeared. He Yanming bent down to pick up Li Qing’an’s sword. He glanced at the Tang army, then suddenly roared, “From now on, I am Li Qing’an! Fight me!”
He raised his sword and charged at the Tubo army, shouting loudly in Tubo language, “I am Li Qing’an, the commander of the Tang army! Come on! Let’s fight to the death!”
“Fight to the death!”
More than a hundred Tang soldiers let out a thunderous roar and charged at the Tubo army twenty steps away.
…
The light in the mountain valley was dim. Li Fei Shouyu led three hundred Tang soldiers into a chaotic battle with nearly two thousand Tubo soldiers. They fought while retreating. There was a path in the valley that led directly to Shibao City. The Tang soldiers carried dozens of wounded soldiers who had miraculously survived and climbed up to the cliff cave to retreat to Shibao City.
Li Fei Shouyu looked around anxiously, searching for his brother Li Fei Yuanli. Some soldiers said that Li Fei Yuanli had risen to fight but his fate was unknown.
The ground was covered with the bodies of wounded soldiers. On the left side of the valley, a dozen female guards had also died in battle. Suddenly, Li Fei Shouyu saw a petite figure carrying the blood-soaked Li Fei Yuanli and struggling to make their way toward the cliff cave.
Relief flashed through Li Fei Shouyu’s heart—his brother wasn’t dead yet. At that moment, thousands of Tubo soldiers surged up from below the cliff, blocking the path between the valley and the platform. Realizing he could no longer go to help Li Qing’an, Li Fei Shouyu gritted his teeth and shouted, “Brothers, retreat!”
He led the remaining two hundred soldiers to quickly retreat from the cliff cave toward Shibao City. Li Fei Shouyu was the last to leave. As he rushed up to the cliff cave, he suddenly noticed two female guards in a corner, still carrying wounded soldiers. Before he could react, an arrow whizzed past and struck his chest. Li Fei Shouyu screamed and fell to the ground. The two soldiers rushed back and carried Li Fei Shouyu toward Shibao City.
The two female guards were Miao Cuier and Zhao Lu. They refused to abandon the wounded soldiers. Numerous Tubo soldiers surrounded them. Both were injured, with their hair hanging loose over their shoulders, revealing their feminine appearance. The Tubo army clearly wanted to capture these Tang female prisoners.
They slowly retreated as the large group of Tubo soldiers closed in step by step, their eyes gleaming with a ferocious light. Behind them was a cliff wall—there was no way to retreat further.
Zhao Lu suddenly drew her sharp sword and shouted in Tubo language, “You may have insulted the women of the Great Tang, but you won’t insult its female soldiers anymore!”

She adjusted the knife and used all her strength to thrust it into her own chest. Miao Cuier also screamed as she committed seppuku with the knife, and the two female guards fell in pools of blood.
…
Dawn had broken, and a beam of sunlight shone on the snow-covered Chilin Mountains. The mountains glowed with a blood-red light in the morning haze. At the foot of the towering cliffs behind Shibao City stood a group of small black dots—the last remnants of the Tang army, numbering 284 in total, including the four female guards. They had no bows or arrows left. A single charge by the enemy would wipe them out entirely.
Li Qing’an stood silently on a large rock, staring at the Tibetan army assembling three miles away. The sunlight illuminated his blood-stained face. His gaze held an unprecedented determination and a hope unseen in others. If he died, could his soul return to his original world? He longed for that moment to arrive.
But the Tibetan army did not attack. Dazhalugong stared blankly at Shibao City. The Tang soldiers at the foot of the mountain were invisible to him, but he could see that the Tibetan flags on Shibao City had been cut down and replaced with a Dragon Flag of the Great Tang. All the Tibetan soldiers stood frozen as they witnessed this scene—the bridgehead they had attacked had fallen.
Just then, a Tibetan officer rushed down from the mountain, crying bitterly as he knelt at Dazhalugong’s feet, sobbing uncontrollably, “General, the Chagan has passed away.”
A mouthful of blood sprayed from Dazhalugong’s mouth. He screamed and collapsed backward. The Tibetan soldiers wailed loudly. Slowly, Dazhalugong opened his eyes. With a deep sigh, he weakly waved his hand. “Pass my order: the army shall retreat to Dafei River.”
In the morning light, the Tibetan army slowly withdrew. Dozens of Tang soldiers ran down from Shibao City along the mountain path. The Tang soldiers at the foot of the mountain hugged each other tightly, cheering.
On December 28th, the seventh year of Tianbao, the Tang army captured Shibao City at the cost of 10,000 casualties. The 80,000-strong Tibetan army sent to reinforce them was halted by Li Qing’an’s 3,000 Yinglong Army. In the end, they suffered nearly 40,000 casualties and failed in their mission. The Tibetan Chagan, Chizudezan, was critically injured and died beneath Chilin Mountains.
Of those 3,000 Tang soldiers who intercepted the Tibetan army, only 284 survived. This was a battle that would go down in history.
Volume 5: Regional Lords