Chapter 378: The Blood Battle Against the Yuezhi (Part 1)

He Yanshi never expected the enemy to be heading to protect the grain stores. Overjoyed, he remembered that his task was to find the great granaries of Tocharistan. He had been struggling to locate them, yet they had come to him on their own. He suppressed his excitement and said nonchalantly, “There are great granaries everywhere in Xinde. I wonder which one your friend is going to?”
Sumaro didn’t doubt He Yanshi’s identity at all. He hadn’t even thought that the Tang people would target Xinde. It wasn’t surprising—historically, the Han people had never been to Xinde. Even when Tang envoy Wang Xuance raided India, he only used the armies of Nepal and Tubo. As for Xinde, not even Tang Seng had visited it on his pilgrimage. It was impossible for a mid-level officer like Sumaro to believe that the Tang Dynasty intended to invade Xinde.
“You’re right, brother. There are granaries everywhere in Xinde, but they’re all small. The real great granaries are in Shabro, where the stored food could feed all of us in Xinde for two years.”
“You mean the mobs will loot the granaries?”
“Probably. That food is their tax revenue. Since the Arabs don’t keep their promises, they naturally want to take it back. That’s why the governor is sending troops to protect the granaries.”
Suddenly, as if by magic, a delicate porcelain cup appeared in He Yanshi’s hand. He handed it to Sumaro with a smile, saying, “This was also given to me by the king. I’ll give it to you!”
Sumaro’s eyes widened. His hand seemed to be burned, and he quickly took the cup from He Yanshi, his eyes filled with greed. “Oh, my Allah! It’s like jade!”
Overjoyed, he knew this cup could be exchanged for at least three cows in the city, allowing him to marry another beautiful wife. Since he had given a gift, He Yanshi straightforwardly made his request, “Brother Sumaro, we’re too few and afraid of being hurt by the mobs. Let’s follow you!”
“Hehe! No problem. There’s plenty of food in the granaries to feed you all. Come with me!”
At that moment, he completely forgot that He Yanshi and his men’s task was to deliver a message to the governor. Waving his long, crane-like arms, he said, “Hurry up! Let’s go to the granaries for dinner.”
An army mixed with Tang scouts set off in large numbers toward the west of Shabro.
……
After half a month of marching, the main force of the Tang army finally emerged from the uninhabited Wakhan Valley. Meanwhile, the 5,000-strong eastern Tang army led by Feng Changqing had separated from them ten days earlier and was heading toward Lianyun Fort, preparing to cross the Tanju Ridge and head to Xiaobolü.

At this moment, the main force led by Li Qingan was located within the territory of the Humi Kingdom, twenty li away from the kingdom’s capital, Segashen City. The army had set up camp on the north bank of the Penchi River, which was the upper reaches of the Wuhu River. The area was characterized by high mountains and deep ravines with steep gradients; the river rushed through the mountains, and its roaring sound could be heard from miles away. To reach Segashen City, one had to cross the deep ravines, and to the west of the city stood a huge vine bridge that allowed the army to cross the Penchi River and continue southward.

Li Qingan sat on a large rock, gazing at the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the rushing water in the ravines, with mist enveloping everything and soaking his body. Lost in memories of the past, this familiar feeling reminded him of the Battle of Xiaoboli six years ago. That arduous march had tempered his will, an influence that still persisted to this day. He still believed that that march marked the beginning of his life. Six years later, returning to this place, he had become the supreme commander of Anxi, a figure powerful enough to shake the political landscape of the Tang Dynasty and even the entire world. The sense of rising step by step to the pinnacle filled him with deep emotion. From a humble archer to the Prince of Zhao of the Tang Dynasty, and then to the supreme commander of two hundred thousand troops—the top nobleman of the Tang Dynasty—all in just seven years. Was it because he was a time traveler from the future? Not entirely; at least that was what Li Qingan thought. The memories of his past life grew increasingly distant in his mind, and the identity of the time traveler faded away. He couldn’t link his achievements to being a time traveler; it was rather a skill, an ability to seize opportunities. It was this extraordinary ability that was the secret to his success. He couldn’t teach it to anyone. Perhaps daily archery practice helped him catch fleeting opportunities.

At that moment, the sound of hurried horse hooves came from afar. A group of over a hundred people was riding toward them. At the forefront was Zhao Chongjie, the envoy sent to Segashen City to contact the troops at Wuyun Fort. Li Qingan stood up. It must be the king of Humi arriving.

After a while, the cavalry approached, and an old man, around fifty years old and of slender build, stepped out of the group. He quickly walked up to Li Qingan and knelt down. “Your servant, King Zhen Tan of Humi, pays his respects to General Zhao, the Prince!”

It was the first time Li Qing’an had been called “Your Highness.” This unfamiliar title, this honor that made him feel somewhat ashamed, was spoken for the first time by the ruler of a small kingdom in the Hindu Kush. This caused a brief hesitation in Li Qing’an’s smile, but it vanished instantly. Still smiling, he helped the King of Humin to his feet. “Your Majesty, it has been many years since we last met.”

King Zhen Tan of Humin had also participated in the Battle of Xiaobolue back then. He led 2,000 troops to fight alongside the Tang army, suffering heavy losses during the attack on Lianyun Fort. At that time, the king of another small kingdom, Shiniguo, named Shikayan, died in the attack. After the battle, Emperor Li Longji rewarded him by promoting him to General of the Left Jinwu Guard and granting him 30,000 bolts of silk. Li Qing’an had met him before as well; due to his brother, King Galan, Zhen Tan had even apologized to Li Qing’an. Six years had passed in the blink of an eye, and the scout officer of those days had now become the king of Anxi, which filled Zhen Tan with emotion.

“Your Highness, the Kingdom of Humin is willing to provide all possible assistance to the Tang army. We have decided to send 3,000 troops to aid the Tang army in their southern campaign. But as I am old, I can only ask my son to serve as the general in my place.”

After saying this, he waved his hand, and a man in his thirties rushed forward, kneeling before Li Qing’an and saying, “Prince Jielifu of Humin pays his respects to General Zhao, King of the Tang!”

“Very good! Very good!”

Moved by the sincerity of the father and son, Li Qing’an said to them, “You have shown me the sincerity of the Kingdom of Humin. I will treat those countries that genuinely help the Tang army well. Your efforts for the Tang army will be rewarded doubly.”

“It is our duty to serve the Tang Dynasty. We dare not accept any compensation from Your Highness. The conditions here are harsh, and it is not suitable to set up camp. Please allow the Tang army to stay in Segashen City so that we may show our hospitality.”

“Very well! Since Humin is so sincere, I shall accept your offer.”

Li Qing’an immediately ordered his attendants, “Issue orders for the army to set out and camp in Segashen City.”

At his command, the Tang army set off in great numbers. They would stay in Segashen City temporarily, waiting for news from Toharistan.

For this southern campaign, Li Qing’an divided the forces into three fronts: east, center, and west. In reality, this meant three separate battlefields—the Tocharian front in the west, the Sindh and Punjab fronts in the center, and the Indian front in the east. In fact, the Indian front was merely a pirate-like raid. Li Qing’an himself wasn’t confident about that unfamiliar land, so when parting with Feng Changqing, he repeatedly warned him not to be greedy for glory and to prioritize the safety of the Tang army. What he truly cared about was Li Guangbi’s campaign in Tocharia. He had been planning this campaign since after the Battle of Talas, preparing for it for a full three years. His goal was to capture Tocharia, drive the Abbasid forces west of the Amu Darya River, and ensure that Suiye and Anxi no longer faced threats from behind. Li Qing’an had waited three years for this battle. To ensure its success, he couldn’t afford any carelessness. Although he handed command to Li Guangbi, he didn’t dare fully let go. His own central force remained in Humi, a strategically delicate position that allowed them to attack Sindh and Punjab from the south while also encircling Tocharia from that direction. Li Qing’an was observing; if Li Guangbi’s attack on Tocharia failed, he would launch a direct attack from the south. Until the situation in Tocharia became clear, Li Qing’an didn’t dare advance into Sindh, as otherwise, if the Tang army failed in Tocharia, the Abbasids might block his retreat north, putting his central force in grave danger.

While Li Qing’an was observing the battle in Tocharia from Humi, the battle there had already begun.

Three hundred thousand Tang soldiers bypassed the Pishan Mountains and struck at Tocharia like a sharp sword. The first battle took place in the state of Jiesu. Jiesu is today’s Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. It was the first stop on the march southward of Qujianti. After the fall of the Western Turks, the Tang Dynasty established the Tianma Military Command here in the third year of Longshuo, with its capital at Dalibohé City. Legally, it was considered a vassal state of the Tang Dynasty, but in reality, it had long been conquered by the Abbasids. In the eighth year of Tianbao, Gao Xianzhi launched an expedition to Tocharia and returned in defeat.

Today, the iron hooves of the Tang Dynasty appeared once again on this vast land. Three hundred thousand Tang soldiers from Anxi appeared on the horizon, under a blood-red sunset, with swirling sand and an atmosphere thick with murderous intent.

The Tang army slowly halted. Li Guangbi stared coldly at Dalibohé City in the distance. His army had been in Jiesu for three days, yet no one from Jiesu had come to contact him.

“Send another message. If I don’t see the king of Jiesu prostrate before me within an hour, the city will be destroyed and its people killed.”

On the city walls, thousands of soldiers from the Jiesu Kingdom watched with trepidation the massive Tang army miles away. Horns were blown continuously; they appeared panicked. King Smiduo of Jiesu had a pale face, his eyes filled with fear as he stared at the fierce Tang troops. He was utterly confused, not knowing what to do.

Originally, he wanted to surrender, but after Gao Xianzhi’s brutal conquest of Tocharistan four years earlier, the Yue tribes had formed an alliance under the leadership of the Abbasid Caliphate, prohibiting any tribe from surrendering to the Tang Dynasty unilaterally. They were required to act in coordination; otherwise, they would become public enemies of Tocharistan and face severe punishment.

This alliance was clearly unfair to Jiesu, which was located far north of Tocharistan. If the Tang Dynasty attacked from the north, Jiesu would be the first to suffer. It had expressed its dissatisfaction, but its protests were ignored, drowned out by pressure from the Tocharian tribes and the wrath of the Abbasid Empire.

Yet, fears turned into reality—the Tang army indeed came from the north and laid siege to the city.

A Tang cavalry rider rushed forward, flying past the city walls and shooting an arrow onto the battlements. The arrow carried a letter. A soldier picked up the letter and rushed to the king.

Smiduo opened the letter with trembling hands. There was only one sentence in it: “Surrender within one hour, or the city of Dali Bohuo will be destroyed.”

Smiduo sighed deeply and dropped the letter. Anxiously, he looked south. As soon as the Tang army entered Jiesu’s territory, he had sent people to Ahuan City for help. The allied forces of Tocharistan were stationed there, but three days had passed with no news from Ahuan City.

“Father, what should we do?” asked Prince Suduo anxiously.

“I don’t know either.”

Smiduo sighed again. Suddenly remembering something, he urgently said to his son, “Go to Ahuan City immediately and tell Qu Zhaomu that the Tang army is at the gates, and since he hasn’t sent reinforcements yet, Jiesu can no longer be saved.”

“Father, do you want to resist?”

“That’s none of your concern. Go quickly! Leave through the south.”

Smiduo shouted angrily. Prince Suduo had no choice but to stamp his foot and turn away. After watching his son go, Smiduo suddenly turned around and shouted at his soldiers, “Four years ago, the Tang army was cruel—killing the young and old, humiliating our women. Now that they’re back, we must fight to the death! We will never surrender!”

Horns blared continuously on the city walls—this was the signal to fight back, declaring to the Tang army that they would never surrender.

Four li away, Li Guangbi had already heard the horns signaling the start of the battle. His pupils constricted as a killing intent flashed in his eyes. He ordered, word by word, “Assemble the trebuchets immediately.”

The 300 craftsmen accompanying the army set to work. They unloaded the massive components of the trebuchets from the camel caravans and began assembling them on the spot. The 10,000 camels purchased through negotiations with the Gesa Khanate played a crucial role in this southern campaign. With their strong carrying capacity and ability to travel long distances, they enabled the Tang army to transport supplies and heavy equipment, bringing great convenience. In less than half an hour, the skilled craftsmen assembled 20 enormous trebuchets. These machines could hurl boulders weighing a hundred jin, with such force that a single stone could destroy a city wall. Each trebuchet required 200 strong men to operate, resembling twenty giants standing at the foot of the city.

Moreover, the Anxi Armory had developed highly powerful fire oil thunder bombs—enormous cotton balls soaked in fire oil, weighing fifty jin. These bombs were primarily used to attack city gates.

At that moment, a soldier rushed toward Li Guangbi and reported loudly, “General Li, the trebuchets are ready!”

Li Guangbi turned westward. The sun had already set below the horizon, casting a purplish-red hue over the sky, conveying a sense of desolation as day ended.

“Begin the attack!”

Li Guangbi issued the order to attack. Gazing at the city walls also tinged purple, he murmured, “I’ve given you a chance. Since you refuse to accept it, don’t blame me for using the Xiesu Kingdom as a sacrifice for my weapons.”

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The loud drums sounded, each strike hitting the hearts of the soldiers in the city, filling them with fear and trembling. Holding bows and arrows, their strength was minimal as they stared blankly at those 20 monstrous trebuchets at the foot of the city. Despair filled every one of their hearts.

The drumming stopped, and silence enveloped the world. Suddenly, dozens of huge black shadows took to the air, drawing dozens of arcs as they flew through the sky, emitting shrill howls.

“Ah!”

Desperate cries erupted from the top of the city wall, accompanied by continuous loud booms. Dust billowed and smoke filled the air. The walls of the kingdoms of Turfan were mostly built from mud and bricks, and they were generally not very high. Under the impact of boulders weighing over a hundred pounds each, large sections of the walls collapsed. With a loud crash, a boulder struck the battlements above King Smiduo’s head, shattering them and sending debris flying. The boulder’s momentum continued, sweeping through the area and crushing more than a dozen guards into pulp, with blood and flesh flying everywhere. The soldiers on the wall cried out in agony. In just the first round of attacks, over three hundred people were killed or injured. One tower was hit by two boulders at the same time and collapsed, burying more than a dozen soldiers under the debris.

Immediately afterward, the second round of boulder attacks began. Twenty boulders, each weighing over a hundred pounds, spun through the air with devastating force, heading straight for the city walls. Another series of loud, dull impacts followed. A section of the wall finally could no longer withstand the continuous strikes and developed terrifying cracks, threatening to collapse. At that moment, another boulder the size of a millstone flew through the air and struck the crack, causing the wall to collapse like torn skin, pulling away by more than twenty yards. The mud and sand filling the wall’s layers poured down, forming a slope leading up to the city.

Smiduo’s eyes turned red as he roared, “Hurry! Build a wall with sandbags! Now!” Thousands of soldiers rushed to the gap, carrying sandbags and throwing them in desperately to try to rebuild the wall. In the distance, the Tang army remained motionless. Their ranks were orderly, and they watched the chaos on the wall with cold indifference. They disdained it completely, believing the city to be easily conquerable.

“One, two, three—release!” Two hundred strong Tang soldiers exerted force simultaneously, throwing long poles that made a whooshing sound as they launched massive fireballs into the air. One after another, ten blazing fireballs rushed toward the city gates. The repeated impacts made the gates shake violently, but the huge fireballs did not bounce away. They stuck to the gates like thick mud, and oil flowed over them, causing the entire gate to catch fire wildly. Flames soared, and thick smoke filled the area inside and outside the gate.

Night had fallen, and the sky was filled with bright stars. It should have been a beautiful night—young men playing pleasant melodies on instruments, beautiful girls dancing to the music. But such beauty no longer existed. Dark clouds of war covered the city of Dali Bohe, as the god of disaster gradually descended upon it.

Alarmed screams and cries filled the city, as the gates burned fiercely, their bright flames burning everyone’s eyes. The city gates were made of wood, covered with iron plates, but the fire had already burned through several large holes, from which terrifying flames erupted, rendering the city’s firefighting efforts utterly ineffective. The fireballs thrown at it only intensified the blaze. Half an hour later, the gates were reduced to charred frames, with the iron plates melted away. At that moment, a huge rock flew through the air and, with a loud crash, shattered the remaining charred frames completely, leaving the gates completely open. The moment of despair had finally arrived. Smithi knelt in despair under the starlight, crying out to the heavens, “O Allah! Have mercy on Your children!” Li Guangbi slowly drew his battle sword and shouted fiercely at Dali Bohuo City, “Charge into the city! Kill anyone who resists! Drive out all men, women, and children! Take whatever wealth is in the city!” “Kill!” Thirty thousand Tang soldiers let out a deafening roar. Wielding their swords, they surged forward like a tsunami, sweeping toward Dali Bohuo City. …