Chapter 503: The Strange Troops in the Snowy Lands

The Tang army’s focus in attacking Great Bolor was not to capture its capital, but to annihilate the 5,000 Tubo troops there and seize the two bridges spanning the Shiquan River.
The deep ravines and rapid currents of the Shiquan River divided Great Bolor into two parts. The country had two cities: the capital, Baliti City, on the west bank, and a smaller city called Langdu City to the east. Tens of thousands of people lived along both banks of the river, connected only by these two bridges.
The two bridges were about twenty li apart and were locally known as the North Bridge and the South Bridge. Both were guarded by Tubo troops. The North Bridge, being wider, was a chain bridge that could accommodate heavy supplies and served as the main route for the people of Great Bolor. The South Bridge, on the other hand, was a rattan bridge. Since the North Bridge was used by the Tubo for military purposes, the locals had to take the detour via the South Bridge.
The road over the South Bridge also passed through a Tubo fortress, but there was another smaller path. Compared to the heavily guarded North Bridge, the South Bridge had far fewer Tubo troops—only 100 in total, 50 on each side—mainly to collect bridge tolls.
At the third watch of the night, the South Bridge suddenly became bustling. King Ting Su of Great Bolor led 3,000 of his troops to the South Bridge. Their reason for crossing was simple: he wanted to inspect his subjects on the east bank. Although it seemed strange for a force of 3,000 to use the South Bridge, Ting Su was after all the ruler of the country. Apart from the commander Lun Chadezan, who held higher rank, the other Tubo soldiers did not dare to trouble him. Thus, the 3,000 troops crossed the South Bridge in great numbers and headed toward the interior of the east bank.
In the darkness, although the appearance of the Bolor troops was unclear, a few Tubo soldiers noticed something odd about them. The Bolor troops were equipped with short swords—weapons discarded by the Tubo army—but they carried long knives, similar to those used by the Tang army. Moreover, each of them was wrapped in a robe. Despite the cold weather, it seemed as though there was something hidden beneath the robes. Their warhorses also appeared exceptionally strong.
Despite these suspicions, they did not draw enough attention from the Tubo soldiers. This was not surprising, as the Tang army had never set foot on Great Bolor’s soil. In fact, no Han army had ever done so, so they could not possibly imagine the arrival of the Tang army.
…
Shortly after Ting Su led his 3,000 troops across to the east bank, another group of over a thousand Tubo troops arrived on the west bank of the South Bridge. There were many strange occurrences that night. The Tubo centurion guarding the west bank immediately went up to them and asked, “Why not use the North Bridge?”

In the darkness, someone replied in Tibetan, “Two iron chains on the north bridge have broken; repairs are underway, so it’s impossible to cross. We can only use the south bridge.” The reply seemed flawless, and the centurion assumed the north bridge was damaged by the large army that had crossed it earlier. He turned around and waved, “Let them pass!” The dozen or so Tibetan soldiers guarding the bridge immediately stepped aside. The army moved toward the rope bridge. As the soldiers drew closer, a general wielding a large sword rode past the centurion. At that moment, the centurion suddenly realized something was wrong with this army—they weren’t Tibetans. Shocked, he tried to shout, but a flash of light appeared, and the general on horseback beheaded him. The army surged forward, surrounding the fifty soldiers guarding the bridge. Amidst screams, all fifty Tibetan soldiers were killed. At the same time, screams could also be heard from the opposite bank, and the hundred Tibetan soldiers on both sides were swiftly eliminated.

At that point, the beacon towers on both sides of the south bridge were lit as signals for help, shining brightly in the night sky.

…

Military strategy says, “Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win a hundred battles.” This saying applied perfectly to the Tang and Tibetan armies. The Tang army was well aware of everything related to the Tibetan army—its troop numbers, deployment, advantages of the terrain it occupied, and any reinforcements it might have. On the contrary, the Tibetan army knew nothing about the Tang army. The idea that “the Han army had never set foot in Great Bolor” was deeply rooted in their minds, and no one believed the Tang army was actually nearby. This severe imbalance in intelligence made the situation akin to a normal person facing a blind and deaf person.

The balance of victory was already tilting in favor of the Tang army. If intelligence could be compared to favorable timing, then Great Bolor’s support was the element of human advantage—undoubtedly crucial to this battle. It was the defection of the people of Great Bolor that gradually eroded Tibet’s geographical advantages. The Tang army had already taken control of the south bridge and lit the beacon towers for help.

This time, it was a thousand Tibetan soldiers from the east bank who came to rescue the south bridge. They were only twenty li away. King Ting Su of Great Bolor personally rushed to the Tibetan camp on the east bank to ask for help. Hundreds of people from three villages had rebelled due to heavy taxes; they had attacked the Tibetan troops guarding the south bridge. Ting Su pleaded with the Tibetan army to send reinforcements.

The Tang army repeatedly exploited the tactics of war and human desires to the extreme. The Tibetan soldiers on the east bank never suspected that King Ting Su of Great Bolor had become a spy, nor did they know that their centurion had led troops to pursue the Tang army’s scouts.

In their eyes, suppressing the Dabuli uprising was a delightful affair; especially after killing all the men, the remaining women would naturally become their spoils. Their monotonous garrison life required such bloody games. Desire for women blinded the Tibetans’ last vestiges of reason. A thousand Tibetan soldiers rushed eagerly toward the South Bridge, arriving there in less than an hour. The rebellious village was on the west bank, and the fifty Tibetan soldiers guarding the east side had vanished. Night fog shrouded the valley, rendering everything invisible. All that could be heard was the noise from the other side, along with the screams of many young women. Some women could be heard crying, “Please, let me go,” as if pleading for mercy, their voices carried on the wind.

“It’s my soldiers!” Ting Su shouted loudly. “It must be my soldiers who have surrounded them. I promise you—once the rebels are killed, all the women can be given to you as slaves, including my concubines.”

The king of Dabuli’s promises, like those of a venomous snake, tempted the young and energetic Tibetan soldiers. Their blood began to boil, and they rushed recklessly across the rope bridge toward the other side. By then, Ting Su, who had made those tempting promises, had disappeared without a trace.

The rope bridge was about two hundred steps long. When the vanguard of Tibetan soldiers was still fifty steps away from the west bank, over seven hundred of them had already crossed the bridge, causing it to sway. This was normal, and the Tibetan soldiers were accustomed to such swaying. But soon, the shaking and tilting became excessive. The vanguard began to scream in terror and despair.

They saw dozens of people ahead fighting desperately to cut the bridge with swords. With a loud crack, one side of the bridge was severed, and it immediately collapsed. Hundreds of Tibetan soldiers on the bridge screamed as they fell into the valley. Another hundred clung to the edges of the bridge, screaming in fear. At the same time, nearly three hundred Tibetan soldiers still on the east bank were attacked. In the darkness, arrows rained down, blocking all their escape routes. Many Tibetan soldiers fell after running just a few steps, screaming in pain. In just fifteen minutes, all the Tibetan soldiers on the banks were killed by arrows. Even those who survived on the bridge were shot off and fell into the churning river in the deep gorge. From beginning to end, those thousand Tibetan soldiers never knew they had died at the hands of the Tang army. Soon, the Tibetan camp on the east bank was engulfed in flames, with cries of battle shaking the ground.

The castle on the west bank of the gorge was the last stronghold of the Great Bulu Tibetan army. Built on a stone platform over ten zhang high, the castle stretched for hundreds of zhang in circumference and was three zhang tall, constructed from sturdy giant stones. It was a formidable fortress built by the Tibetan army in the sixth year of the Tianbao era. Though not large, it could accommodate no more than five hundred soldiers, and it was stocked with enough food to sustain the Tibetans for a year.

Throughout the night, the Tibetan soldiers inside the castle spent a terrifying, sleepless time. They saw flames on the east side of the gorge and heard the sounds of fighting from nearby camps, unsure how many Tang soldiers had arrived. It wasn’t until dawn approached that the fighting gradually subsided, and the flames on the east bank disappeared.

As day broke, the snow-capped peaks on the plateau were bathed in the golden light of the sunrise, their white summits displaying dazzling hues. The plateau’s morning was as beautiful as ever.

But the Tibetan soldiers in the castle could not appreciate the beautiful scenery at all. Their hearts sank into despair—surrounded by a dense army of Tang and Great Bulu soldiers, numbering tens of thousands. Only then did the Tibetans realize what had happened. In panic, they sounded their horns, and hundreds of them rushed to the castle walls, looking down at the vast ranks of Tang soldiers.

The only thing that gave them some comfort was their sturdy castle, along with enough food and water to last them a year. The castle even had no gates; entry and exit relied on rope ladders. Its strength reminded them of the Stone Fortress, which had managed to repel tens of thousands of Tang soldiers with just under a thousand soldiers.

But soon, some soldiers were surprised to find several large black bricks embedded at the base of the castle walls, firmly set into the stone. This must have been done by the Tang soldiers last night. Since they hadn’t launched a full-scale attack, their movements in the darkness went unnoticed. The Tibetan soldiers discussed among themselves, unsure what those black bricks were. Some tried to throw stones at them, but they couldn’t even reach them.

At that moment, An Baozhen, the Tang army’s commander, rode forward slowly. He looked at the six black bricks embedded in the walls with a sense of pride. They were city-breaking bombs specially developed by the Anxi Artillery Unit—essentially twins of the Thundering Bombs. Although they had never seen the power of these city-breaking bombs, they had witnessed the power of the Thundering Bombs firsthand. The earth-shattering explosions that destroyed everything in their path left a deep impression on him.

Although he could have blown down the castle right last night, he didn’t do so—he wanted the people of Great Blyu to see it with their own eyes and remember this day forever. He glanced back at King Ting Su of Great Blyu and his army, then nodded at the officer beside him. The officer waved a flag, and immediately two soldiers rushed forward with torches, lighting the kerosene on the ground. With a loud “boom,” the kerosene caught fire quickly, forming a path of flames that spread toward the mighty fortress 300 steps away. As the flames neared the castle, all the Tang soldiers held their breath, 5,000 pairs of eyes watching anxiously as the flames spread. Only 3,000 Great Blyu soldiers peered curiously out, their coughs and chatter filling the air. The Tubo soldiers on the castle walls had a different reaction—they stared blankly as the flames approached, filled with an inexplicable fear, yet none of them thought to bring water to put them out. In fact, even if they had, it would have been too late. There was only ice inside the castle, no water—first the ice had to melt before water could be poured on, but the flames wouldn’t wait. In just a moment, the flames reached the base of the castle. With a soft “hiss,” the bundled fuse was ignited at once. At that moment, the 5,000 Tang soldiers almost simultaneously covered their ears with their arms and lay on the ground, holding their heads. Even if they had never seen it before, they had heard of the power of the thundering explosion. The Great Blyu soldiers were stunned, then burst into loud laughter, pointing at the Tang soldiers’ reactions and laughing uncontrollably. Just then, a deafening explosion erupted beneath the mighty fortress—the sound was so intense that the ground trembled. Many Great Blyu soldiers lost their balance and fell to the ground. Soon after, black smoke billowed into the sky, and countless stones and dust fell everywhere like hail, hitting many Great Blyu soldiers and causing them severe injuries. Their warhorses panicked and scattered in all directions. But none of this mattered anymore. The Great Blyu soldiers were terrified, their faces pale as they knelt on the ground, frantically bowing their heads. To them, this was the roar of the mountain god, the wrath of the thunder god. Even King Ting Su knelt down, his face pale, continuing to bow repeatedly. The power of this explosive attack exceeded the Great Blyu people’s imagination—they could only attribute it to the power of the gods. Many years passed, and the abandoned Tubo castle remained, becoming a temple revered by the people of Blyu.

It took a long time before the thousands of Tang soldiers slowly stood up, brushed off the dust from their clothes, and looked toward the Tibetan fortress. The fortress was already half-collapsed; a large section of its wall had been blown away. Unable to bear the weight of the fortress, the foundation gave way, causing the entire structure to collapse like dominoes. Hundreds of Tibetan soldiers were buried under the massive piles of bricks and stones.

“A skilled warrior seeks no glory!” An Baozhen let out a long sigh.

……

In Nepal, north of India, in the second month of the second year of the Zhenzhi era, a Tang army laden with supplies traveled through the rugged mountains of Nepal. This army consisted of eight thousand men, led by Feng Changqing, the governor of Xindu. Moving eastward from Xindu, the Tang forces forced the kingdoms of India to surrender grain and submit. However, Feng Changqing’s expedition was not aimed at conquering India but rather served as a crucial part of Li Qing’an’s strategy to advance into Tibet.

They chose the same route that Wang Xuance had used when he was sent to India in the early Tang dynasty—the old route through Nepal. This was also the main route used by Tibetans and Nepalis to communicate with each other. They crossed the Himalayas via the Mangyu Pass or another important pass, the Nilam Pass, to enter Tibetan territory.

Yet Feng Changqing knew that this arduous march was also a huge risk. If the Tibetan army did not launch a full-scale attack, these eight thousand soldiers might end up buried in a foreign land. But to achieve a decisive victory over the Tibetans, Feng Changqing risked his own future and destiny.

Ten miles away, the royal city of Nepal, Kari, bathed in golden sunlight, could already be seen in the distance. Feng Changqing raised his hand and ordered, “The army, halt!”

He then instructed a soldier who spoke Tibetan, “Go and tell the king of Nepal that the Tang heavenly troops have arrived. If he does not surrender, the Tang army will destroy Nepal!”