Chapter 131: The Treatment of the Central Army's Chief General

"You're insane! How could a child go into battle to kill the enemy!"

In the back courtyard of the prefectural office, Anaye couldn't help but roar at Fang Chongyong, her voice trembling as if she were an enraged lioness.

The leaves of the low trees in the yard seemed to shiver in fright!

Upon learning of Fang Chongyong's "absurd" decision, she was completely unsettled.

"Where isn't there? Isn't the one before you exactly that?"

Fang Chongyong crouched on the ground, waved his hand nonchalantly, and then kept threading rope, linking palm-sized armor plates made of camelskin one by one. The contraption now looked like a vest.

"Come, help me put it on."

Fang Chongyong lifted the "Light-as-a-Feather" leather armor, which weighed no more than three kilograms, feeling rather moved.

Making small camelskin plates and splicing them into leather armor makes it not only light but also lets the wearer freely adjust the number and placement of the plates. Even a child-sized frame like Fang Chongyong's can be accommodated with slight modifications.

No professional assistance is required.

In Dunhuang, where weapon‑making conditions are limited, this contraption is truly cost‑effective; sourcing and processing are exceptionally convenient, no wonder it became standard issue for light cavalry.

Who says the ancients lacked wisdom? Their ability to adapt to the land makes Fang Chongyong often feel inferior.

"Alas!"

Anaye has always been sharp‑tongued but soft‑hearted, often being PUA‑ed by Fang Chongyong without realizing it.

She let out a long sigh, draped the leather armor over Fang Chongyong, who shifted his body a bit and felt no hindrance, as if he were carrying a small sandbag. His limbs moved freely.

"Not bad, I feel my chances of surviving increase a few points once I go into battle."

Fang Chongyong nodded slightly, muttering to himself, very satisfied with the camelskin armor's fit.

"Is it really unavoidable?"

Anaye tugged at Fang Chongyong's cuff, pleading, her delicate pretty face looking at me with pity.

"You wouldn't want your beautiful face to be skinned by the Tubo and turned into some weird object, would you?"

Fang Chongyong turned his head and gave a strange smile, saying that, which sent a chill through Anaye's whole body.

When Buddhism spread to the Tubo, it took a strange path, absorbing many "technical" and "primitive" elements from the original Bon religion. Buddhist thought holds that "the body is merely a skin bag," so Tubo Buddhism also practiced fully skinning slaves to make "soul containers," and this was not an isolated case.

The skins of those beautiful women... for some Tubo monasteries, those were rare treasures indeed!

These matters were no secret to the common folk of the Western Regions and the Hexi Corridor. The Tubo high monks were quite at ease when doing this. They considered it sincere devotion to the Buddha—a form of "cultivation." They did not view it as cruel.

Thus ordinary people cannot communicate with these "self‑proclaimed righteous" individuals, let alone the Tubo Buddhism, which is divided into sects, and not everyone practices this.

In short, the outside world is complex and dangerous, especially for pretty girls.

"Then... alas!"

Anaye let out a long sigh, her hands hanging limp, silent, looking withered like a frost‑bitten eggplant.

Should she choose to be captured by the Tubo and then skinned, or let Fang Chongyong go into battle and take a gamble? If forced to pick one, she would rather not choose at all.

How could she give an answer to such a question?

"The outcome of war often depends on prior preparation and planning. Once the fighting truly begins, victory is no longer in the commanding general's control.

The side with more calculations wins; the side with fewer loses.

I have already done everything I can; life and death are fate, wealth and honor are in the heavens."

Fang Chongyong sighed, noticing Anaye still looking at him with watery eyes, and pointed to the camelskin armor on his body, saying, "Could you take this off? It's a bit heavy after wearing it for a while."

…

The Tubo army formed a line a mile west of the small town of Shazhou; the captured civilians from outside the city, men and women alike, ran naked toward the city walls! When they reached the wall, the Tang soldiers lowered hanging baskets, pulling the unclothed captives up onto the walls, where a specialist wrapped each in a piece of cloth before taking them away.

The Tubo were good at managing daily life; they believed the slaves' clothing also required money to procure.

Ximo Lang agreed to release the captives, but did not say he would return their belongings to the Tang army. Clothing worn on a person is, after all, a form of property. So letting the captives leave naked, in the Tubo's view, was quite reasonable, right?

"The Tubo really know how to cause us trouble."

Inside the city tower, Fang Chongyong, who had been quietly observing the situation, said expressionlessly: "These little tricks were already within my expectations. The more they do this, the more it shows the Tubo are at the end of their strength, about to erupt."

However, the Tubo remain on high alert at this moment. The captives handed over so far number only a hundred. The Tubo soldiers slept soundly last night and are now fully refreshed, still not the time to act.

"All rideable horses inside the city, including mules, have been requisitioned, totaling over five thousand mounts."

From the Doulu army, three thousand elite infantry were selected, armored for the campaign. Another two thousand local gentry troops formed the flank guard.

The remaining infantry followed closely, and once the cavalry broke the large formation, they would directly assault the enemy's central camp tents.

"The enemy will be broken today."

Wang Sili said to Fang Chongyong in a deep voice.

A person seeking to establish their own authority does not rely on a tiger‑like presence nor any charismatic aura. Outsiders view the individual's words and deeds with a scrutinizing eye, using that to decide their own attitude and choices.

The Tang era was bold in spirit, not in promiscuity, but in society's overall admiration for daring, proactive individuals, disliking those who rose through subtle, feminine scheming. The poor popular reputation of Li Linfu and others is not solely because they blindly followed Li Longji's orders.

But because they "advanced without merit."

Common folk could not comprehend the "trivial" deeds Li Linfu performed.

Fang Chongyong shaved his hair to declare his resolve, willing to join the main army in battle, which stirred the blood of Shazhou's soldiers and civilians!

Even an eleven‑year‑old child is willing to go into battle; how can you say you wouldn't dare to wield a sword?

This time Fang Chongyong chose to go into battle personally, both a careful personal choice and an unavoidable destiny.

If Fang Chongyong does not lead personally, the local gentry would not willingly take up swords nor unite to resist the Tubo. Often, choices seem plentiful but are inescapable.

Being a man means being hard on oneself! That's one reason why the over‑thirty‑year‑old, bearded Wang Sili shows a measure of respect toward Fang Chongyong.

"Wang's troops may act as they wish; I can only follow behind the ranks."

Fang Chongyong shook his head helplessly.

"The first time I went into battle, I was so scared I wet my pants. Lord Fang, a dragon and phoenix among men, is already unsurpassable."

Wang Sili couldn't help teasing in a low voice.

"Alas, let's not bring that up, not bring it up."

Fang Chongyong, with an awkward expression, waved his hand and gazed at the distant Tibetan army formation. Today he will lead troops to charge into the Tibetan formation; honestly, he has no clue at all.

It's like a person afraid of heights standing high up but not realizing they're high.

If you don't look down in the fine wind and sunshine, a single glance downward will instantly frighten you into immobility, even causing you to faint.

Fang Chongyong now dares not think about anything, fearing that if he keeps thinking his legs will become immobile.

The operation to return the captives is still ongoing.

From an initial hundred people, then a one‑time five hundred, finally a thousand. The Tibetans' speed of releasing people is also accelerating.

"That's enough; after one incense stick's time, open the western gate and counterattack!"

Fang Chongyong punched the wall on the city rampart, kicking up a cloud of dust!

"Now?"

Wang Silie was startled: a large number of unclothed captives were still running this way? Is it appropriate to dispatch troops now?

"The sun is three rods high; the Tibetan army fears the heat, having been lined up under the scorching sun all morning. Now many have returned to camp to rest. Look at that army formation!"

Fang Chongyong pointed to the distant Tibetan army formation; it seemed like that, but the horizontal ranks had already become much sparser, and the formation's depth had thinned considerably. In any case, they had stood in the scorching sun for one or two hours; fatigue was inevitable.

Rotating a fresh batch to rest, doing a shift change, is only natural.

At first, the Tibetans also defended against a Tang army's assault from within the city, so they dared not slack off at all.

And now, just as one group is exhausted and returns to rest, the replacement guard hasn't arrived yet!

The front formation cannot block the impact; the soldiers in the main camp haven't rested properly and are in a disorganized state.

The morning's exchange of returning captives went smoothly, causing the Tibetans to lower their guard. They also did not anticipate that the Tang army within the small city of Shazhou, still holding on with remaining strength, would dare to strike out!

Wang Silie pondered for a moment; upon thinking that Fang Chongyong would also set out with the main army, he instantly eased his lingering anxiety.

This is the power of Fang Chongyong leading by example; his words now carry weight. A simple "I am also in the expedition force" can outweigh a thousand‑word justification.

"Very well, please don armor, sir; after the whole army has launched, you may then lead a few personal guards to join the ranks."

Wang Silie said in a deep voice.

Going into battle is one thing; charging to the front is another. Fang Chongyong's going into battle is only to demonstrate united resolve, not to sacrifice the lives of the troops for glory; as for slashing and stabbing on the front line, that does not require Fang Chongyong himself to handle.

"Fine!"

Fang Chongyong walked toward the city rampart and saw, in the shady corner of the wall, the veiled Anaye had been waiting for a long time.

"Say nothing, just armor me."

When Anaye tried to speak, Fang Chongyong quickly covered her small mouth with his hand.

He feared Anaye might say something like "When you return from the campaign, I'll immediately become your concubine," and such words would wield a banner's power no less than "after this battle, I'll go home to marry."

After the time of one incense stick, the western gate of the small city of Shazhou flung open!

The stones used to block the gate had long been cleared; at this moment, the neatly arrayed Doulu army cavalry poured out of the gate in single file, and at a galloping speed, after a brief adjustment outside the city wall, they ignored the captives still running toward the wall and charged straight into the Tibetan army formation!

The Shazhou Tang army's desperate counterattack began!

…

The charging cavalry kicked up clouds of dust on the ground. From afar, the riders were no longer visible; only occasional flashes of red tied to a right arm could be seen in the sandstorm, indicating they were Tang cavalry.

If they can't be seen, it's no surprise.

Hundreds of meters ahead, dust rose everywhere, completely obscuring sight. At this moment, riding a small red horse, Fang Chongyong looked around the battlefield with a bewildered expression.

"This is battle! It's just endless horse riding… boring."

Now his status is that of a middle‑army commander; not only are there no enemies nearby, but he is protected by more than ten personal guards sent by Wang Silie, and even the adept archer Zhang Guangsheng rides a horse and stands guard beside him.

Tight security.

The group followed Fang Chongyong's horse slowly forward, then realized there was no combat for them to join.

There's no need to charge forward for a deadly clash; beside Fang Chongyong, not even a stray fish can be caught, so they can only watch others earn merit by killing the enemy.

Tang cavalry surged into the Tibetan ranks as effortlessly as cutting a melon or slicing vegetables, unstoppable.

The opponent's resistance amid panic lost all order, unable to muster even a tenth of their usual strength. The tactics Fang Chongyong had found in Tibetan military doctrine—those expected Tibetan responses—were nowhere to be seen here!

The scorching desert heat, combined with the low‑altitude oxygen‑starved environment, left many Tibetan soldiers out of condition.

Moreover, because the local fortified fields failed to secure grain, the army imposed rationing, leaving many soldiers hungry. Only the armored heavy infantry and elite troops and officers, mainly minor nobles, could barely fill their stomachs.

Additionally, the steadfast defense of Luocheng's garrison rescued the crumbling city walls several times, likewise crushing Tibetan morale and preventing them from obtaining supplies.

This time, while the returned captives were resting en route, their lax vigilance became the last straw that broke the camel.

The accumulation of numerous disadvantages formed a massive negative buff.

The Tibetan troops in front of the formation were scattered by Tang cavalry, fleeing toward the Tibetan camp. Inside the camp, the hastily assembled Tibetan forces collided with the fleeing soldiers. The barely restored order was again broken by the well‑prepared Tang army.

After the Tang cavalry broke into the camp, Tang infantry followed, slashing and killing within the camp; Tibetan morale there was completely shattered.

Even the Tibetan general Xi Mo Lang, who matched Fang Chongyong in psychological warfare and was adept in both civil strategy and military tactics, was knocked to the ground by an ordinary Doulu cavalryman whose name even Wang Silie could not recall, and then trampled to death by the following Tang cavalry.

He died unremarkably; even who killed him could not be determined.

After Xi Mo Lang's death, the Tibetan army fell apart like scattered sand; the flaws of the serf system began to surface, and many Tibetans of the slightly higher "common" class abandoned their weapons and fled!

Fang Chongyong, who was expected to face life‑and‑death trials, spent the whole time watching the spectacle from the rear, and within several hundred meters, he didn't see a single living Tibetan!

He now isn't worried about being killed; he only laments that his camelhide armor is too thick, suffocating him.

The Doulu cavalry riding alongside Fang Chongyong also grew increasingly frustrated to the point of madness.

They had thought that following Fang Chongyong would earn them great merit. Unexpectedly, these tactically skilled elite troops failed to earn even a trace of credit.

This is hard to bear!

Who could have imagined that the Tibetan army, which previously seemed to have five or six men and displayed countless stone‑thrower tricks, would be so easily broken, collapsing under a single charge of Tang cavalry?

Fang Chongyong felt the atmosphere around him was somewhat awkward.

He drew the short‑handed horizontal sword from his waist, intending to say something. He opened his mouth, then dutifully sheathed the sword, adopting a solemn expression, and stared blankly into the distance.

The Tibetan main camp had already become a chaotic porridge.

Fang Chongyong's current feeling is a bit like his first time having OOXX with a girl in his previous life. It seems he hasn't even come to his senses yet, and everything is already over.

He didn't even properly experience what it tasted like.

On his first time going out to battle, he didn't do anything and was already able to return victorious. At this moment, he again felt like he was a superfluous person.

About half an hour later, the smoke and dust in the Tubo army camp gradually dissipated, and the battlefield also gradually grew quiet. The Tang army sent out part of its scouting cavalry to keep watch everywhere, while most of the men dismounted and began to clean up the battlefield.

"Come on, let's go over there and take a look."

Fang Chongyong pretentiously drew his horizontal blade, pointed at the distant Tubo army camp, and said, wishing he could find a hole to crawl into.

(End of chapter)