Chapter 343: Blocking the River Crossing (Part 2)

On the city walls, Abu Muslim watched indifferently as the first unit set off. He understood Qiyad’s tactics—using a feint to succeed in landing. Suddenly, Abu Muslim felt a hint of fatigue. Even if they landed successfully, could ten thousand soldiers truly win and defeat the Tang forces on the other side?
Looking at Qiyad’s straight-backed posture, he shook his head. A true general doesn’t win just by standing upright; what matters is the mind—having a rational and calm mind and the wisdom to know oneself and the enemy. Qiyad was clearly not rational enough; he hadn’t grasped Abu Muslim’s true intentions at all. This landing battle wasn’t necessary at all. Qiyad could have ignored his orders and prevented those soldiers from dying, but he carried them out without hesitation.
A faint smile appeared on Abu Muslim’s lips. Weren’t this exactly the kind of subordinate who would faithfully follow his orders?
At that moment, a soldier rushed over and reported, “Your Excellency, General Qiyad requests that bonfires be lit!”
“Light them!”
Abu Muslim turned to look at the top of the castle and saw a blazing fire rising into the sky, shining brightly against the night.
On the east bank, the Tang forces had already spotted the Arab army crossing the river. The drums on the other side made their blood boil. They lined up on the shore, their chests filled with tension and excitement. They were all eager fighters, driven by the desire to earn glory, which fueled their courage. At the command, they quickly drew back their crossbows, loaded sharp arrows, knelt down, and waited for the thrilling moment to arrive.
A hundred portable crossbows were slowly pulled onto the embankment by ox carts. With the help of the oxen, the thick leather cords were tightened, emitting creaking sounds. Li Siye stood at the front—tall and muscular, like a black tower. He placed one hand on his hip, stuck his halberd in the ground, held the hilt, and stared intently at the small dark dots appearing in the river. Under the moonlight, they were clearly visible. Expectation and excitement filled Li Siye’s eyes.
Li Qing’an stood on a large rock, holding a rigid bow, but his expression was calm. His high position made it hard for him to feel excited, yet he still had a hint of anticipation. It had been a very long time since he had experienced the thrill of fighting on the battlefield.

Looking into the distance from Linggao, Li Qing’an saw even more clearly. He noticed nearly a hundred huge sheepskin rafts drifting toward them, but at the same time he also saw those bright flames in the darkness. He quickly turned his head south and saw faint flames in the distance as well. “Beacon fires!” Those two words flashed through Li Qing’an’s mind.

“Could it be… could it be they’re feinting? The Abbasid army is actually crossing the river from the south!”

Li Qing’an’s brows furrowed deeply. That couldn’t be right! He had ordered people to check the water levels. Although the water had dropped by nearly two and a half feet, making the river at this crossing smoother and easier to cross, it didn’t much affect other sections of the river, where the currents remained fierce and crossing extremely difficult. That’s why he thought the Abbasid army must still cross here.

But the beacon fires he saw with his own eyes made him doubt. Could the Abbasid army really risk everything by crossing in such a dangerous place?

…

Drumbeats echoed across the river. The Abbasid army no longer feared exposure; their hearts were filled with a desire for slaughter. Like newborn calves unafraid of tigers, these new recruits from Khorasan, after a year and a half of brutal training, had been turned into killing machines. They looked down on everything—whether it was the Tang army or the Roman army—they saw them as insignificant ants.

“Kill them!”

The Abbasid army on the hundred sheepskin rafts simultaneously let out thunderous shouts. With their arms bare, their dark, strong muscles straining as they beat drums and rowed hard, they got closer and closer. Their murderous intent grew stronger, their eyes glowing with the excitement and ferocity of beasts hunting antelopes.

Yes, in their eyes, the Tang army was nothing but a herd of antelopes waiting to be slaughtered. Four hundred paces… they were now within range of the crossbows.

Unlike the frenzied Abbasid army on the rafts, the Tang army on the shore remained silent, with only the creaking sound of the crossbows being drawn. Li Qing’an did not interfere with Li Siyue’s command during the battle. His gaze remained fixed on the distant beacon fires, lost in thought.

“Three hundred paces!” a scout shouted loudly.

The moment of battle had finally arrived. Li Siyue slammed his halberd down and ordered sharply, “Fire the crossbows!”

“Bang! Bang!” A series of crossbow shots erupted on the shore. One hundred large arrows, each three feet long, were fired with great force by the powerful crossbows, possessing the strength to pierce metal and shatter stone. These arrows pierced through the mist over the river, emitting a terrifying whistling sound as they flew straight at the sheepskin rafts.

“Aah!” A shrill scream rang out first; a Persian soldier holding a shield was hit first—the crossbow arrow shattered his shield, pierced his chest, and knocked another oarman into the river. Screams filled the air as dozens of men and horses were killed by the crossbows. At the same time, thuds could be heard as arrows struck the leather rafts and the wooden frames beneath them. Three rafts were hit by four arrows at once; the wood shattered, the frames collapsed, and chaos ensued inside the rafts. The violent shaking caused them to tip over instantly, and those who fell into the water struggled for a moment before being swallowed by the rushing current. The rafts continued forward, with the drums still beating loudly. Although the Tang army’s crossbows were deadly, they were not in large numbers and did not pose a fatal threat to the Persians. By now, the rafts were less than two hundred paces from the opposite shore. The drums turned into battle cries, and the rafts sped up. After another round of shots from the crossbows, the east bank suddenly fell silent. A sly smile appeared on Li Siye’s lips—he certainly didn’t want the Persians to turn and flee. The crossbow fire was merely a feint to make them come closer, so he could annihilate this invading force. Meanwhile, Li Qing’an wasn’t focusing on the enemy before him; he was thinking about the Persians’ strategies. If he were the Persian commander, would he use signal fires to launch an attack from the south? Though quick, it also alerted the enemy. He wouldn’t do that; there were better ways to inform the troops in the south, such as using eagles. Li Qing’an knew that the Persians often used eagles to send messages. Could these signal fires be meant for him? The Persian rafts were now 150 paces from the shore, within range of the crossbows. Li Siye sneered and gave the order to annihilate them. “Ten thousand crossbowmen, prepare to fire!” Ten thousand Tang crossbowmen stepped forward quickly, forming a long line three miles long, matching the distance the rafts needed to cross. The loud drums boomed as the ten thousand crossbowmen assumed firing positions—kneeling on one knee, supporting the crossbow frame with both hands, squinting to adjust their aim through the sights.

The drumming stopped abruptly—this was the signal to fire. Instantly, arrows flew in every direction from the shore. Powerful crossbow bolts created a dense rain of arrows over the river, pouring down on the leather rafts within range. The sudden attack caught the Abbasid army off guard; screams and cries of pain filled the air. Even shields could not withstand the Tang army’s crossbow bolts. In just a few dozen steps across the river, the Tang army fired three rounds of arrows. More than half of the 3,000 Abbasid soldiers were killed or wounded. Their warhorses, unable to bear the pain of being hit, reared up, neighed, broke free from the ropes tying them to the rafts, and plunged into the river.

The Tang army’s dense arrow barrage terrified these inexperienced Khorasan soldiers. Dozens of the leather rafts behind them turned to flee, but those in front could not do the same. The remaining Abbasid soldiers only differed in the timing of their deaths.

Hundreds of desperate Abbasid soldiers abandoned their rafts and jumped into the water. The foolish were swallowed by the river, while the clever hid under the rafts—but such cleverness was useless; they were instantly killed by the relentless crossbow bolts in the water.

The river fell silent. The leather rafts, unpropelled, drifted quietly northward, growing farther and farther away until they disappeared into the dark night.

At that moment, Li Siye also noticed something unusual on the other side of the river—the Abbasid army had no more reinforcements. He was astonished; these 3,000 vanguard soldiers clearly came to die.

“General Li, look! Signal fires!” a soldier shouted, pointing at the distant fires.

Just then, a cavalryman rushed over and yelled, “General Li, enemy forces are crossing the river about twenty li away!”

Li Siye thought for a moment before suddenly realizing what was happening. He roared, “Quick! Send ten thousand cavalry south immediately to intercept them!”

“Wait!” Li Qing’an ordered sharply, stopping the troops about to set off.

Li Siye insisted, “General, this is the enemy’s feint. Their main force must be crossing from the south.”

“I know!” Li Qing’an replied calmly. “I’ve been observing this for a long time. If you send troops south, you’ll fall into their trap of luring us away. If I’m not mistaken, their main force is still on the other side.”

Li Siye was stunned. His mind was confused; he didn’t understand why Li Qing’an said so. Li Qing’an continued, “Send three thousand cavalry south quickly, each carrying five torches, to create the illusion that the Tang army’s main force is moving south. This way, even if the enemy’s main force does move south, those three thousand soldiers can hold them off for a while.”

“Good! I’ll issue the order right away.”

Li Siyeh turned and rushed back to the main force to give orders. Li Qing’an glanced across the river again, shook his head, and muttered to himself, “With no base and no logistical support, what’s the use even if they cross the river? Aren’t you waking up yet?”
…
Qiyad suddenly noticed a long fire dragon appearing on the opposite side, rushing southward. Overjoyed, he thought his strategy of luring them away had succeeded. He still had 5,000 troops at his disposal, but he knew that 5,000 troops wouldn’t be much use even if they crossed the Amu Darya. He hurriedly rushed up to the city and found Abu Muslim standing on the city wall, gazing into the distance.
“Governor, the Tang army has fallen for the trap. Their main force is heading south. I request that we cross the river immediately.”
“Do you think Li Qing’an has fallen for the trap?” Abu Muslim sneered.
“But look!”
Qiyad pointed at the long fire dragon that had already moved far across the river and said urgently, “Their main force has already gone south. Based on the density of the flames, at least 15,000 of them are heading south. There are 20,000 Tang troops on the other side, and another 5,000 are guarding there. They came lightly equipped, without heavy trebuchets. If our 40,000 troops cross forcefully, those 5,000 won’t be able to stop us. We should cross the river right now while they haven’t reacted!”
Abu Muslim smiled faintly. “You underestimate Li Qing’an too much. A man who could resolve a crisis across the river in just a few days—would he fall for your trick? Let me tell you: whatever method you use to deceive him, he’ll use the same method to deceive you. There’s a proverb in the East: ‘Do to others as you would have them do to you.’ Do you understand?”
Qiyad lowered his head and thought for a moment. Gradually, he understood. If Li Qing’an really had sent his main force south, why would he light torches to announce it? It was just as flawed as lighting beacons.
“He’s not lighting torches to tell you—he’s actually warning me, hoping me to withdraw my troops.”
Abu Muslim stared at the opposite side with a complex expression. He knew Li Qing’an had seen through him. He sighed inwardly. Having such an opponent was a fortune in his life.
“He wants the governor to withdraw?” Qiyad was truly stunned; he didn’t understand what that meant at all.
“That’s politics. You don’t understand!”
Abu Muslim let out a long sigh. At this moment, he felt extremely tired. His intuition told him that Abbas wouldn’t make it through this spring.
“But Governor, are we really going to give up the river region?” Qiyad protested reluctantly.

“Getting it from the river means we’re giving up Khorasan. Do you understand? Besides, we’ll be facing Li Qing’an’s 200,000-strong army, and in the end we’ll have nothing left.”
Abu Muslim no longer wanted to fight. Once 40,000 troops crossed the Amu Darya River, Khorasan would become a deserted land, and Mansur would quickly fill that void.
“Pass my order: the army shall withdraw to Merv!”
As soon as Abu Muslim gave the order, a group of cavalry rushed over from afar, shouting from a distance, “Your Excellency, an urgent letter from Kufa!”
Abu Muslim was shocked, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. He ordered urgently, “Bring it to me at once.”
The messenger rushed up the city walls and handed him the letter. Abu Muslim, trembling, tore it open. Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, he stood frozen, motionless. The letter slipped from his hands, and under the light of the torches, the words came into sight: Abbas al-Khalid had passed away.
In the spring of the 12th year of the Tianbao era, Abu Abbas, the founder of the Abbasid Empire, died in Kufa. His brother Mansur succeeded him as caliph in Damascus. Feeling the crisis, Abu Muslim withdrew his troops back to Merv, the capital of Khorasan. Half a month later, he received Mansur’s order to go to Damascus to attend the caliph’s coronation ceremony.