“Then they can’t remain.”
Nobody answered.
For several breaths, the only sound in the room was the horn from the eastern wall.
Duan Wei looked at me.
Then at the map.
Then back at me.
“Young Master.”
“Yes.”
“If you mean to attack thirty thousand men in open ground with ten thousand—”
“I don’t.”
He stopped.
Good.
At least we had eliminated one stupid idea.
Duan Wei waited.
I looked at the map.
Thirty thousand.
Three times our number.
Several camps.
Several roads.
Cavalry.
Supply wagons.
Scouts.
Officers.
Too many little wooden markers.
I hated every one of them.
“Well?” Duan Wei asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
One of the captains blinked.
Apparently that was not the answer he expected from a military genius.
Excellent.
Neither was I.
I leaned over the table.
“Thirty thousand where?”
Duan Wei frowned.
“What?”
“The thirty thousand.”
“Outside the position.”
“All of them?”
“No.”
There.
I pointed at the map.
“Then stop saying thirty thousand.”
Nobody moved.
I looked at him.
“How many are actually in front of the eastern approach?”
Duan Wei glanced at one of his officers.
“Perhaps eleven thousand.”
“Perhaps?”
“Scouts cannot count every man.”
“Fine. Eleven.”
I pointed south.
“These?”
“Six or seven thousand.”
“North?”
“Several thousand more. Some cavalry.”
“And the rest?”
“Rear camp. Baggage. reserve units. men guarding the roads and supplies.”
I stared at the markers.
Thirty thousand.
Except not thirty thousand.
Not here.
Not at once.
My finger moved between the groups.
“How many of them could attack this wall together?”
Duan Wei's expression changed slightly.
“Not all.”
“How many?”
“That depends on where.”
“This approach.”
“Eight thousand could deploy properly. Perhaps more behind them, but they would have difficulty using their numbers.”
“Because of the road?”
“And the ground.”
I looked at the map again.
Thirty thousand on paper.
Eight thousand where it mattered.
Something in my head clicked.
Not history.
Not strategy.
Grain.
Carts.
Oxen.
Those fucking registers.
I pointed at the enemy markers.
“Thirty thousand is the registered number.”
Silence.
Duan Wei looked at me.
I continued.
“I want the actual number.”
One captain glanced at another.
Duan Wei understood first.
“You already have it.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I have how many men exist.”
My finger tapped the eastern road.
“How many can move here?”
Then the southern road.
“How many can move here?”
Then the narrow approach north.
“How many can move there?”
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Duan Wei.
“I want the movable number.”
His eyes stayed on me.
For the first time since I arrived at Xin’an, he looked at me the way Li Ru did when I said something I immediately regretted.
Wonderful.
I had infected another man.
Duan Wei turned to the map.
“The eastern force could move perhaps ten or twelve thousand quickly.”
“Together?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Five or six thousand in the first body. More behind.”
“South?”
“Smaller road. Four thousand comfortably. More would stretch the column.”
“North?”
“Mostly cavalry and light troops. Faster, but fewer.”
I nodded slowly.
There.
That was different.
Thirty thousand men were frightening.
Five thousand men on a road were still frightening.
But there was an important difference.
Duan Wei had ten thousand soldiers.
And unlike me, he knew what to do with them.
I pointed at the eastern force.
“If five thousand come through here, can you beat them?”
“Yes.”
Immediate.
Good.
“And if ten thousand?”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“With preparation.”
“And fifteen?”
“Not before more of them deploy.”
I stared at him.
“So don’t let them deploy.”
The captain nearest me shifted.
Duan Wei said nothing.
I looked at the enemy camps again.
Something was still wrong.
They were sitting there.
Comfortable.
Watching us.
Why would they walk into a narrow road just because I wanted them to?
“Why aren’t they attacking properly?”
Duan Wei folded his arms.
“They do not need to.”
“Because we’re trapped.”
“They are pinning us here.”
“Yes.”
“So they can wait.”
“Yes.”
I hated patient people.
I looked west.
At our road.
At the carts already passing toward the interior.
At the preparations for moving the court.
Then back east.
“What happens if we leave?”
Duan Wei's eyes narrowed.
“Leave?”
“Xin’an.”
One captain stared at me.
Another looked almost offended.
I ignored them.
“If we start moving west.”
Duan Wei answered carefully.
“They would advance.”
“How quickly?”
“Immediately, if they believed the withdrawal was real.”
“Why?”
“To seize the position before we destroy stores or fortifications.”
“And if several coalition commanders want the honor?”
A captain answered this time.
“They may compete to reach us first.”
Better.
I looked at Duan Wei.
“Can they see our western road?”
“Scouts can.”
“Can they see carts leaving?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
He understood.
I could see it happen.
His eyes moved from the western road to the enemy positions.
Then back.
“You want them to think we are withdrawing.”
“I want them to stop sitting there.”
One officer spoke.
“If they believe we are abandoning Xin’an, the center force advances first.”
Duan Wei nodded.
“The nearest contingent, likely.”
“And the others?”
“They follow.”
“Together?”
“No.”
There.
Again.
Not thirty thousand.
Pieces.
Roads.
Timing.
I looked at Duan Wei.
“How much do we need to show them?”
He did not answer immediately.
Then:
“Carts.”
Of course.
Everything came back to carts.
“How many?”
“Enough to resemble evacuation.”
“That is not a number.”
His eyes flicked toward me.
I regretted nothing.
“Twenty. Thirty. More if we can spare them.”
I thought of the road yesterday.
One stopped wagon.
Then two.
Then three.
A road did not need many carts before it began looking full.
“We have damaged wagons?”
The quartermaster near the wall spoke.
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Empty ones?”
“Yes.”
“Load them.”
“With what?”
I looked at him.
“Anything bulky.”
He frowned.
“Empty crates?”
“Perfect.”
Duan Wei looked at me.
“You want scouts to see supply wagons leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Men too.”
“How many?”
“Enough to be noticed. Not enough to matter.”
One captain was already thinking aloud.
“Servants. drivers. wounded men. some support troops.”
Duan Wei nodded.
“Move them west openly.”
Another officer added:
“Pull banners from part of the eastern wall.”
Now everyone was talking.
Good.
This was where I preferred military planning.
With military men doing it.
I pointed at Duan Wei.
“If they advance, where do you fight them?”
He looked at the map.
Not at the obvious eastern gate.
Farther out.
His finger moved to a section of road between low ridges.
“Here.”
I leaned closer.
“Why?”
“The road narrows.”
“How much?”
“Enough that a large force cannot deploy at once.”
“How many?”
“Perhaps four or five thousand in the forward body before the rest compress behind them.”
“And you can beat five thousand.”
“Yes.”
Excellent.
“Then do that.”
One captain looked at me as though I had just reduced warfare to ordering dinner.
Duan Wei was less generous.
“It is not that simple.”
Of course not.
Nothing useful ever was.
“Explain.”
“If we wait too close to the fortifications, they will advance cautiously.”
“So?”
“They maintain contact with the rear.”
Bad.
“If we go too far out, their cavalry can move around us.”
Also bad.
“If we strike before enough of their column enters the constriction, they withdraw cleanly.”
Very bad.
I stared at the road.
“So we need enough of them inside that they cannot immediately leave.”
“Yes.”
“And not enough that they kill us.”
“Yes.”
“Military planning is unpleasantly specific.”
One captain almost smiled.
Duan Wei ignored me.
He pointed toward a second route.
“I can conceal infantry here.”
“How many?”
“Three thousand.”
“Only?”
“It is enough if the first enemy body is already engaged.”
Then another position.
“Cavalry waits here.”
I frowned.
“I thought cavalry couldn't get around them.”
“Not thirty thousand men.”
His finger moved behind the first advancing column.
“But several hundred can strike an exposed flank once the road is congested.”
There.
That was why he was the general.
I could see the shape now.
The coalition thought we were leaving.
One force rushed forward.
Not thirty thousand.
Maybe five thousand in front.
More trapped behind them on the road.
Duan Wei hit the front.
Then the side.
They could not easily move forward.
Could not easily turn around.
The men behind would not immediately know what was happening.
Simple enough.
Almost.
“What about the others?”
Duan Wei looked at me.
“The other contingents?”
“Yes.”
“If the first is attacked, they reinforce.”
“And then we're back to thirty thousand.”
“Eventually.”
Eventually.
That word mattered.
“How long?”
“Depends how quickly they understand the situation.”
I looked at the enemy rear.
Baggage.
Carts.
Animals.
Grain.
Fodder.
The things nobody wrote poems about.
The things everyone died without.
“Where is their food?”
Duan Wei pointed.
“Likely concentrated here.”
“Likely?”
“Scouts saw heavy wagon traffic.”
“How many guards?”
“Unknown.”
“Enough to stop five hundred cavalry?”
“Possibly.”
“What about two hundred?”
One officer frowned.
“Two hundred cannot defeat the rear camp.”
“I didn't ask if they can defeat it.”
Silence.
I pointed at the wagon area.
“Can two hundred men reach it?”
Duan Wei thought.
“Perhaps.”
“Can they set carts on fire?”
“Yes.”
“Can they cut loose horses?”
“Yes.”
“Can they burn fodder?”
“Yes.”
“Can they leave?”
“If the route remains open.”
“Then why are we discussing defeating the rear camp?”
Duan Wei stared at me.
One captain slowly looked back at the map.
I continued.
“I don't need their food.”
I tapped the supply markers.
“I need them to think they are losing it.”
That landed differently.
Duan Wei's eyes sharpened.
Smoke.
Loose animals.
Burning wagons.
Men running.
Messengers trying to explain.
All while the forward contingent was already being attacked.
The rest of the coalition would see smoke behind them and fighting ahead.
They would not know how large either attack was.
They would only know something had gone wrong.
I pointed at the roads.
“And if they start moving backward?”
Duan Wei answered:
“They congest their own approach.”
Exactly.
Carts.
Again.
Everything was fucking carts.
Thirty thousand men could march impressively across open country.
Thirty thousand men trying to retreat through three roads while wagons burned behind them were different.
I looked around the room.
“Can we make them believe the road west is open before we hit?”
Duan Wei said:
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Reduce visible troops on the wall. Move wagons. Pull some banners. Allow their scouts to see activity toward the western gate.”
“And then?”
“Leave enough defenders to appear hurried.”
One officer added:
“We could deliberately abandon the outer barrier.”
I looked at him.
“Would that help?”
“It would convince them we do not intend to fight for it.”
Good.
“Do that.”
Duan Wei raised a hand.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“If we abandon it too soon, they become suspicious.”
Right.
This was why I needed him.
“When?”
“After the wagons move.”
Another officer spoke.
“And after dusk preparations are visible. They may assume His Excellency ordered an immediate withdrawal.”
Duan Wei nodded.
“They will expect us to leave before dawn.”
“So they attack before dawn?”
“Possibly.”
I hated mornings.
Even in war they remained unavoidable.
I pointed at the map.
“Can we make them move sooner?”
Duan Wei thought.
“Leave the outer position before sunset.”
“That contradicts what you just said.”
“It does.”
I waited.
He continued.
“If scouts already see carts moving, then a sudden pullback from the outer barrier may look like haste rather than deception.”
That was much better.
The officers began shifting markers.
One road.
Then another.
Reserve positions.
Cavalry routes.
Signals.
I stopped trying to follow every military detail.
The broad shape was enough.
We pretend to run.
They chase.
The road makes their big army smaller.
Duan Wei crushes the first piece.
A small cavalry force sets fire to the things behind them.
The men in the middle see smoke.
The men in front see soldiers dying.
The men behind see everyone ahead beginning to turn.
Then thirty thousand men have a new problem.
Each other.
One captain remained unconvinced.
“And if the main body does not pursue?”
Good question.
Duan Wei answered.
“Then we lose nothing except time.”
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
“We lose time.”
Qiao’er had been there since yesterday.
Maybe longer by now.
Every hour mattered.
The captain lowered his eyes.
Right.
I had forgotten something else.
“How long until we know whether they take it?”
Duan Wei said:
“An hour after the wagons begin moving. Perhaps two.”
“And if they don't?”
“We change the plan.”
I disliked plans that required changing.
But apparently that was war.
Another officer pointed at the enemy camps.
“What if they advance with the entire center body instead of only the lead contingent?”
Duan Wei answered immediately.
“Then we do not commit.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“If too many advance together, the trap fails.”
“So we wait?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“Young Master.”
“Qiao’er doesn't have unlimited time.”
“And my men do not have unlimited lives.”
That stopped me.
The room went still.
Not because he had challenged me.
Because he was right.
Again.
I looked at the map.
Ten thousand men.
Not markers.
Men.
People.
I had spent eighteen chapters trying not to become responsible for anyone.
Apparently the universe had taken that personally.
I rubbed my face.
“Fine.”
Duan Wei watched me.
“Fine?”
“If they come wrong, we do not attack.”
His expression eased slightly.
“Good.”
“But make them come right.”
One captain coughed.
Duan Wei almost smiled.
“I will do my best.”
Not good enough.
But all I had.
The plan grew for another hour.
Mostly without me.
This was reassuring.
Duan Wei changed the cavalry route twice.
One captain moved the hidden infantry farther south because the first position could be spotted from higher ground.
Another officer argued that burning enemy grain would create smoke too early.
They settled on hitting fodder and wagons first, then setting fire only after the forward force committed.
Signals were assigned.
Flags if visible.
Drums if not.
Riders if everything else went wrong.
Military men had apparently invented several methods for communicating the fact that plans had failed.
I contributed where I could.
Mostly by asking irritating questions.
“What if the carts block our own western gate?”
“They won't.”
“How many can pass in an hour?”
Duan Wei looked at me.
The officer responsible for the gate suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Good.
We checked.
The original number was wrong.
Of course it was.
“What if enemy scouts get too close to the wagons?”
“Let them.”
“What if they count them?”
“Better.”
“What if they see empty crates?”
Silence.
I looked around.
“Put grain sacks on top.”
The quartermaster said:
“We cannot waste grain.”
“Fill them with dirt.”
He stared.
Duan Wei nodded.
“Do it.”
Excellent.
I was contributing to warfare through fraudulent luggage.
Father would be proud.
Probably.
That was worrying.
Near evening, one of the younger captains asked:
“If this works, how far do we pursue?”
Duan Wei looked toward me.
I did not understand why.
Then I did.
They thought the goal was to drive the coalition away from Xin’an.
It wasn't.
I pointed east.
“How long until they reform?”
The captain frowned.
“If badly defeated?”
“Yes.”
“Hours. A day. Depends on losses and whether the contingents remain together.”
“Not enough.”
Duan Wei's eyes narrowed.
“Young Master.”
“They cannot simply move five li east and sit down again.”
The room became quiet.
I continued.
“I need the road open.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough to move ten thousand men through it.”
Several officers stared at me.
Duan Wei did not.
He had understood before them.
“You intend to take the army east.”
“Yes.”
“To Yanshi.”
“Yes.”
One captain spoke carefully.
“Then forcing them from the approach is not enough.”
“No.”
Duan Wei looked at the map.
“If they retreat in order, they remain an army.”
“Yes.”
“And they can block us again.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet.
Then:
“So you want them broken.”
I looked at him.
“I want them unable to stand between me and Yanshi tomorrow morning.”
That was the clearest way I could say it.
Duan Wei breathed out slowly.
“Young Master, armies do not disappear because we inconvenience them.”
“Then don't inconvenience them.”
Nobody spoke.
I heard my own voice after the fact.
Cold.
Flat.
I did not particularly recognize it.
Duan Wei studied me for several seconds.
Then looked toward his officers.
“If the first contingent breaks, do not give them room to reform.”
One captain nodded.
“Pursue?”
“Only after the second signal.”
Another officer asked:
“And the rear?”
“Hit the baggage again when retreat begins.”
Another:
“North road?”
“Block it temporarily.”
I watched the plan change.
Not into slaughter.
Into collapse.
The goal was no longer to kill thirty thousand men.
That would take too long.
The goal was to make thirty thousand men stop acting like an army.
Break one part.
Frighten another.
Burn what they needed.
Block where they wanted to move.
Then make retreat spread faster than orders could stop it.
Simple.
Terrible.
Possible.
Maybe.
I hated maybe.
“How long?”
Duan Wei looked at me.
“For what?”
“Until the eastern road is open.”
He stared at the map for a long time.
Then:
“If they take the bait.”
“Yes.”
“If the forward force commits far enough.”
“Yes.”
“If the cavalry reaches the baggage.”
“Yes.”
“If nothing important fails.”
I stared.
“General.”
His mouth moved.
“By nightfall.”
That was all I needed.
I turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I looked back.
“To find out how many carts we need to make thirty thousand men believe we're running away.”
The first wagons left before sunset.
Thirty-two.
More than Duan Wei had asked for.
Because twenty-four looked like transport.
Thirty-two looked like panic.
Empty crates filled most of them.
Dirt-filled grain sacks covered the top.
Servants shouted.
Drivers hurried.
A few support troops moved with them.
Not enough to weaken the position.
Enough to be seen.
On the eastern wall, several banners disappeared.
Then another.
Men pulled back from one outer position.
Slowly at first.
Then quickly enough that anyone watching might think someone had changed his mind.
Duan Wei stood beside me.
Far beyond the wall, coalition scouts moved.
One rider left.
Then another.
Going back to their camps.
I watched.
Nothing happened.
My hands were cold.
“Did they believe it?”
“Wait.”
I hated that word.
Five minutes.
Ten.
The wagons continued west.
One officer arrived.
“Movement in the center camp.”
Duan Wei did not react.
“How much?”
“Unclear.”
Another messenger came.
“More banners moving forward.”
I looked toward the distant enemy lines.
At first I could not see it.
Then I did.
One section was advancing.
Not all of them.
A column.
Men leaving the safety of their camp and entering the eastern approach.
Duan Wei watched without speaking.
I looked at him.
“They took it.”
“Part of it.”
Not enough.
Then another banner moved.
Then another.
Farther south, dust began rising.
Duan Wei's eyes narrowed.
One of the officers beside us whispered:
“They're moving.”
I looked east.
Thirty thousand men had finally stopped sitting still.
Good.
Duan Wei raised one hand.
Behind us, a drum sounded once.
Then again.
The trap began to close.