Chapter 163

The Xiangfan region has long been called the 'waist and spine of the world,' with one shoulder bearing the south and the other the north—north to Henan, west to Sichuan, south to Huguang, east to Jianghuai. It is the center where the regions of Hubei, Henan, Chongqing, and Shaanxi meet.

Since ancient times, when the north and south have been at war, this place first bears the brunt of troops; in the past, Guan Yunchang defeated Cao Ren, captured Yu Jin, and beheaded Pang De, earning the reputation of 'His might shakes China!'

It is precisely because the geography of Xiangfan is so vital—advancing allows a northern campaign into the Central Plains—that even Cao Cao wanted to immediately relocate his capital to avoid its sharp edge.

With Guan Yu's single person able to sway the state of the world, how could his might not shake China?

And Eastern Wu's Lü Meng crossing the Yangtze in white robes was also because this place, when retreating, could guard the southwest.

During the Song dynasty, Xiangyang once fell to the Jin state; Yue Wumu believed this was the foundation for recovering the Central Plains, memorialized Emperor Gaozong, and raised troops to take it back.

After Yue Fei recovered Xiangyang, over a hundred years passed, and the Song people painstakingly managed Xiangfan. When the famed general Meng Gong guarded the Jianghan region, he devoted the nation's strength, repeatedly expanding Xiangyang; its walls were tall and solid, rarely seen in the world, and ordinary siege methods could not breach them.

But the Mongol army now attacks relentlessly.

Since Genghis Khan, Mongol cavalry have come and gone like the wind; the Western Xia, Jin, and Khwarazm have all been reduced to ashes under the trampling of Mongol iron cavalry.

In the following decades, the 'Longzi Western Expedition' conquered dozens of states, reaching Europe, with the furthest point of their spearhead arriving right before the walls of Vienna.

Stretching sixteen thousand li from east to west, when the moon rises over the treetops in the east, the west is already under a blazing sun; of course, this is the suffering of all Eurasian peoples, yet it is the golden age of the Mongols.

Yet a Song dynasty ruled by a Confucian scholar looked down upon by Genghis Khan has fallen to possessing only half of the southwest, and yet it has caused the great Mongol army to halt beneath the walls of Xiangyang—this too is their tremendous shame and disgrace!

"Boom—"

The great ox-hide drums thundered like claps of thunder, echoing atop Xiangyang's walls as the Mongol army launched another assault.

They have been besieging the city for over three months, with large-scale attacks numbering no fewer than dozens, all because Xiangyang lies in the middle reaches of the Han River; once it falls, the Southern Song's frontier defenses will be cut across the waist, and the thousand-li expanse of Jianghan will lie exposed to the Mongol spearhead.

Clad in a gray robe and holding a long sword, Guo Jing stood firm on the city wall, gazing down at a large crowd of people in tattered clothes, disordered and not forming ranks, running toward Xiangyang—clearly they were refugees.

The defenders on the city wall drew their bows and aimed at the refugees. The populace shouted in unison, 'Don't shoot from above, we are all subjects of the Great Song!' Yet the Mongol elite cavalry stood behind the masses.

Guo Jing shouted, 'Open the gate quickly!'

"Master Guo," said the defending general Wang Jian, gritting his teeth, 'The Mongol army's momentum these past days is utterly unlike before—sheer advance with no retreat, like a band of madmen. These refugees surely hide Mongol spies; we must absolutely not let them enter the city, or disaster will follow.'

Guo Jing bellowed, 'Even if the common folk have suffered slaughter at Mongol hands and there may be one or two spies among them, how could we thereby doom the lives of thousands? Open the gate at once!'

Although Guo Jing holds no official post, he has repeatedly performed extraordinary deeds and gained great fame; once in Qingzhou he even seized the city's defending commander.

Seeing the clear, resolute light flashing in Guo Jing's eyes, Wang Jian dared not disobey; he opened the gate and at once sent a messenger to report to the Pacification Commissioner Lü Wenhuan.

Since Genghis Khan, Mongol armies besieging cities have always driven the enemy's civilians forward first; if the defenders' hands falter and they cease shooting, the Mongols immediately follow. This tactic both slaughters the enemy populace and shakes the soldiers' morale—truly a two‑for‑one, brutal and vicious, often yielding remarkable results.

Having long dwelt among the Mongols, Guo Jing naturally understood their method, yet to break it he found himself lacking a good plan.

Seeing the Mongol elite brandishing spears and wielding swords, they drove the Song civilians up onto the walls. The crowd drew nearer, and the foremost had already climbed the siege ladders.

Pacification Commissioner Lü Wenhuan rode a blue horse, inspecting the four sides; seeing the situation dire, he ordered, 'Hold the city—shoot arrows!' The soldiers' arrows fell like rain; amid cries of anguish, the masses fell struck by arrows, while the rest turned and fled.

Mongol soldiers lopped off heads with a single blade and thrust spears to pierce holes, forcing the civilians to assault the city.

All that could be heard was Lü Wenhuan shouting, 'Fire arrows!' as another volley of feathered arrows rained down.

Guo Jing cried, 'Don't do that—don't mistakenly kill the good!'

Lü Wenhuan replied, 'In such peril, even the good must be mistakenly slain.'

Guo Jing shouted, 'No, how could the good be mistakenly killed?'

The Mongols butchered Han people like pigs and dogs; outside Xiangyang rose a tumult of wailing and shouting, a chaotic mass. Guo Jing clasped his hands and said, 'Brothers of the Beggars' Sect and all martial‑arts friends, follow me!' With that he rushed down from the wall.

The crowd responded with a unanimous roar.

The west gate swung open; Guo Jing led the crowd out like a gust of wind, resembling a sharp blade's edge as they swooped to strike the Mongol flank. The Mongol troops escorting the civilians immediately split off to meet them.

About half of those Guo Jing led were skilled Beggars' Sect fighters, the other half loyal volunteers from various places; all fought bravely at the front. When the armies clashed, Mongol cries of anguish instantly filled the heavens, and over a hundred Mongol soldiers were already hacked from their mounts.

Seeing one Mongol thousand‑man unit unable to hold, another thousand‑man unit came charging from the flank, brandishing long blades and slashing. The civilians who had been forced to assault the city, seeing the Mongols wholly engaged in combat, ceased their pressure, raised a shout, and scattered in all directions.

Guo Jing maneuvered his forces, taking the lead on horseback, his two spears swaying like falling snow; whatever they struck was routed, the army weaving back and forth, shattering that Mongol thousand‑man unit into fragments,

Suddenly a horn's blare split the sky; the battle below underwent a sudden change, hooves thundered, two Mongol thousand‑man units rushed forward, and then two more came galloping from the west,

The Mongol army, a force hardened by a hundred battles, fierce and valiant, had its four thousand‑man units trace two smooth arcs on the field, instantly encircling Guo Jing and his comrades in a deadly circle.

From the city wall, Lü Wenhuan saw the Mongol troops moving with lightning speed, his heart and gallbladder torn apart with fear—how could he dare detach forces to rescue?

Moreover, the drumming grew fiercer; gazing afar, dust rose in the distance as the great Mongol army advanced with earth‑shaking steps from the north.

The Mongol host let forth a heaven‑shaking roar; a great banner snapped in the wind, the troops parting like grass before a gale, beneath the press of iron cavalry rose blue canopies and yellow covers, a splendid company clattering forward—none other than Kublai Khan himself supervising the battle.

Seeing the prince arrive in person, the Mongol officers and soldiers' morale rose greatly.

Lü Wenhuan, already nauseated to the point of vomiting, suddenly heard a voice say, 'Please, Commander Lü, open the gate so we may come to Guo Jing's aid!' It was Zhu Ziliu.

Lü Wenhuan regarded Guo Jing as a Great Wall; seeing him surrounded, he was deeply worried, yet all he could hear was the urgent blast of the horn, and another four Mongol thousand‑man units had charged to the gate, his voice trembling as he said, 'How could we open the gate?'

This clearly meant they were waiting for the city to open its gate to receive reinforcements, whereupon those four elite units would surge inside.

"Commander Lü may disregard my father, but I cannot!" Guo Fu's eyes blazed as she rushed down from the wall.

Lü Wenhuan was startled, yet he did not know how to oppose.

Wu Dunru also stepped forward, declaring loudly, 'My brother and I have no desire for posterity—brother, let us measure ourselves against Fu‑jie and the Tatars!'

Wu Xiuwen answered with a cry and followed after.

Zhu Ziliu, the Wu brothers, and Guo Fu, each leading their men, all wished to sally forth to meet Guo Jing; in the Mongol ranks a red banner fluttered, clearly indicating that Kublai Khan had another scheme.

Lü Wenhuan turned pale with alarm and bellowed an order: 'No one may open the gate!' He also commanded two hundred sword‑and‑axe men to guard the gate closely, decreeing that anyone daring to open it would be cut down on the spot.

General Wang Jian led the archers and crossbowmen on the wall, incessantly loosing arrows.

Relying on his peerless martial skill, Guo Jing spurred his horse forward, lunging left and right, his two spears thrusting like bows on either side—like a divine dragon emerging from the sea—in an instant he slew dozens of Mongol warriors! Behind him the sturdy men formed a phalanx and charged ahead, forcibly prying open a gap in the Mongol battle formation as solid as an iron bucket, and within moments he reached the gate.

Guo Jing turned his horse's head, personally covering the rear; as his lance rose, seven or eight Mongol officers were unhorsed in succession, and the Mongol troops dared not approach for a time.

Seeing Guo Jing's valor, Lü Wenhuan's eyebrows danced with delight; he hurriedly cried, 'Open the gate! Only a crack—never a wide opening!'

At that moment the gate opened three or four feet—wide enough for a single rider—and the sturdy men streamed in one after another. The Mongol banner fluttered, two troops of horse surged from left and right, and Lü Wenhuan shouted, 'Master Guo, hurry into the city! We won't wait for anyone else.'

Seeing that his followers had not yet all reached safety, Guo Jing refused to enter first; instead he turned his horse forward and speared the two Mongol warriors who had come nearest.

Even Kublai Khan in the Mongol ranks, sheltering under a makeshift awning, gazed afar at the melee below; seeing Guo Jing ride to and fro, each strike felling a man, his facial muscles twitching slightly, he sighed, 'Our Mongol warriors—how can they compare to Guo Jing's divine valor?'

"Your Highness!" his strategist Zisheng stood beside him, speaking cautiously, 'Xiangyang's city is strong and its generals brave, yet our rear has suffered massive assassinations by the Quanzhen Sect and the Beggars' Sect, and Karakorum has undergone a great upheaval; we fear we must retreat.'

Zicong, the Empress and Guiyou are dead, but my older brother and Batu the Great King are still alive; the descendants of Chengjisi Khan are strong, to be their king is naturally the greatest and strongest.

When they went on the western campaign, they attacked without fail and fought without defeat; the two were also very friendly, but I am now hindered at Xiangyang—what can I do if I go back?

Must I, like my father back then, be forced to watch others claim the title of Khan?

Kublai Khan's face shone with a scorching light, as if the blazing sun in the sky: 'Moreover, if we retreat now, the Song army might pursue us victoriously; we would have no supplies behind and pursuing troops ahead—what should we do?'

Zicong started, saying: 'Could it be that the Great King swears to take Xiangyang?'

Kublai Khan let out a long sigh and said: 'My grandfather Chengjisi Khan taught his descendants and generals the art of war: advance when advantageous, strike hard when following the momentum, halt when disadvantageous, and wait for the right time to act again.'

The use of troops depends on momentum; one must not go against time and momentum. Following momentum brings victory; going against it brings defeat. By reason, I should order a temporary retreat, then decide on advance or retreat.

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Zicong said: 'Yes, for now the rear is constantly harassed by Han people, the advance is not smooth; better to temporarily retreat, clear the rear, then advance—this would be the safest plan.'

Kublai Khan gave a faint smile and said: 'I heard that the troublemakers at Halin are martial arts masters from the Central Plains; they poisoned many people. My troops pursued them for hundreds of li, killing many, but the most skilled few escaped. Do you mean they were just causing a disturbance at Halin?'

Zicong stared, and Kublai Khan laughed: 'You say, who is the person capable of doing such a thing?'

Zicong immediately understood: the person causing trouble at Halin must be Feng Yi, who once vowed to kill Kublai Khan. Someone like him would not make empty threats; as long as he is alive, he will surely deal with Kublai Khan.

The siege of Xiangyang had dragged on for days; the prince personally supervised the battle, but after failing to win, he ordered a retreat. The Mongol troops' morale would inevitably scatter; if the Song forces pursued victoriously, and with Central Plains martial arts masters assassinating the prince, perhaps they would never return to Mongolia.

Suddenly, the Mongol army let out a loud shout, and a human figure appeared, like a goose rising from the clouds, flying up along the Xiangyang city wall.

Xiangyang City is over ten zhang high; both armies' soldiers could not help but shout in astonishment, the sound like thunder.

It turned out that although Guo Jing's martial arts were high, the Mongol soldiers were like a tide; one person's strength could not resist them. Zhu Ziliu, seeing the perilous situation on the city wall, hurriedly lowered a long rope and called out: 'Guo brother, grab hold.'

Guo Jing turned his head and saw the last brother of the Beggars' Sect had already entered the city, but more than ten Mongol soldiers followed, charging into the gate.

The axe and spear wielders beside the gate resisted while struggling to shut it; the two‑foot‑thick iron gate slowly closed.

Guo Jing let out a loud shout, thrust his spear and killed a Mongol squad leader, then leapt up and grabbed the rope.

Zhu Ziliu pulled with all his strength, and Guo Jing instantly rose about a zhang.

A Mongol commander of ten thousand saw this, shouted loudly: 'Release the arrows!'

In an instant, a thousand crossbows fired together; the arrows fell like scattered silver stars from the sky; thick and dense, like waves overturned at the sea mouth, all hurtling toward Guo Jing as he climbed the wall.

As Guo Jing leapt up, he had already anticipated this; his mind was clear as a mirror. Without looking, he pulled the rope with his right hand, and with his left he tore the lower hem of his robe, infusing it with strength, waving it like a large shield that blocked all the feathered arrows.

The Mongol soldiers fired a thousand arrows, none effective; their momentum waned. Seeing this, the Song troops could not help but shout in unison, their morale greatly boosted.

Zhu Ziliu alternately pulled with both hands, raising Guo Jing higher and higher until he was about two zhang from the city top; the commander of ten thousand was greatly startled, about to order another volley of arrows.

Guo Jing tapped his left foot on the wall, his body suddenly leapt up several zhang; his right foot then tapped the wall, gaining another few zhang.

This 'Sky Ladder' martial art is known to very few in the present age; even if someone masters it, each step raises them only two or three feet.

In his youth, Guo Jing practiced the 'Golden Goose Technique' under Ma Yu, using lightness skills to climb Mongol cliffs; later he trained in the 'Sky Ladder' technique. Having the foundation of the Golden Goose Technique made his base more solid, so that on the smooth city wall he could step up and leap about a zhang each time—his martial arts level is astonishing to the world.

In an instant, all was silent above and below the city; tens of thousands of eyes stared at him.

Just a moment's daze, and Guo Jing was already like a great bird, lightly landing on the city top; the tens of thousands of soldiers above and below all gaped, unable to close their mouths.

As Guo Jing's left foot stepped onto the city wall, he raised his hand and snatched the bow and arrow from a Song soldier's hands; with ape‑like arms he drew the bow to a full moon, and shot a long arrow at the commander who had given the order.

That commander's wife, just about to send reinforcements to attack the city, suddenly heard a shout, was greatly confused, and with a swish a feathered arrow pierced her armor and entered her chest.

The commander of ten thousand was a senior general; his armor was made of refined cold‑forged steel, extraordinarily hard—normally a hit would not be fatal. Yet the arrow went straight through his chest, he fell from his horse and died instantly.

The Song troops' morale soared; tens of thousands of defenders shouted in unison, without cease.

With a 'swish', Guo Jing's arrows flew in rapid succession; one arrow killed the commander of ten thousand, and this arrow was aimed directly at the banner below Kublai Khan.

The long arrow's shadow flashed in the air.

'Your Highness, be careful!' a guard with keen eyes and quick hands stepped forward, pulled Kublai Khan down from his horse.

The arrow pierced straight through the heart of one of Kublai Khan's personal guards, its force undiminished, and went into the body of the companion behind him.

'How can this be? How did his arrow come…?' Kublai Khan cried out in shock.

You should know that his position is over a thousand paces from the city wall; apart from the powerful crossbows that require multiple operators on Xiangyang's wall, an ordinary strong bow could never shoot that far.

However, Guo Jing had been taught archery since childhood by the divine archer Jebe in Mongolia, and combined with his profound internal energy, his archery skill is unmatched under heaven.

How could anyone else imagine that!

Before Kublai Khan had finished speaking, there was a 'swish'—the third arrow arrived, directly cutting the rope of the banner fluttering in the wind.

Kublai Khan's banner slipped down, and the troops above and below the city again shouted in unison.

The Mongol troops were stunned, not knowing how their commander fared, their morale collapsed; the Song soldiers were exhilarated, letting out a shout like a collapsing mountain.

Seeing Guo Jing's might, Kublai Khan realized he could gain no advantage today, and ordered a retreat.

Suddenly a loud cry rang out: 'Kublai Khan, the prince, is dead!'

(End of chapter)