Chapter 636: and translation of chapter title

Luoyang.

This ancient capital of Zhongyuan.

At this moment, it has completely become an isolated island in the furious sea.

Looking out in all directions.

Except to the south, where distance and the False Song Imperial Court's own turmoil still provide a buffer.

The east, west, and north directions.

As far as the eye can see.

All are continuous encampments.

Black banners.

Blades and spears like a forest.

And a silent, omnipresent sense of oppression.

Especially to the north.

The Yellow River has already lost its meaning as a heavenly moat.

Several simple yet practical pontoon bridges, like black giant pythons, span the turbid river surface.

More sheepskin rafts and wooden piles are stacked like mountains along the riverbank.

The Yuan army's camp extends directly to the southern bank.

The distance to Luoyang's northern city wall is now less than three li at its closest point.

One can even clearly see the figures of soldiers moving in the camp and hear the occasional neigh of warhorses.

And…… that cold, fierce aura, different from both the False Song army and the Jin army.

The city wall.

After many days of bloody battle, it is no longer as majestic as before.

Many crenels are damaged.

The wall surface is covered with scars from smoke and fire, as well as pits and cracks from stone bombardment.

Some sections are hastily patched with door planks, wood and stone, or even earth, appearing mottled and fragile.

Only the Northward Aspiration battle flag on the city top still flutters defiantly in the spring wind tinged with the smell of blood.

Yue Fei stood with his hand on his sword at the northern gate tower.

The bloodstains on his armor had turned dark brown, layered upon each other.

His face showed obvious fatigue, with bloodshot eyes.

Yet his posture remained straight as a pine.

His gaze, like that of a hawk, swept over the movements of the Yuan forces outside the city.

"Any movements today?"

He asked Zhang Xian beside him.

Zhang Xian, his shoulder wrapped in injury, spoke with a hoarse voice:

"Same as the past two days. Still small cavalry units skirmishing, infantry taking turns to launch feigned attacks to exhaust our arrows and energy. Their catapults and crossbow cannons occasionally fire a few rounds, specifically targeting the places we've repaired."

"What about the south and west?"

"The False Song's Wang Jun unit to the south has retreated twenty li to set up camp; according to scout reports, they seem to be fortifying their position with no sign of advance. The defeat at Xu Chang has given them enough pain for a while."

Zhang Xian paused, his tone growing more solemn.

"To the west…… the remnants of the Jin's Wanyan Zongbi holding Yanshi have had no cooking smoke for three days. Scouts report that the city walls of Yanshi now fly Yuan banners. Wanyan Zongbi…… likely more misfortune than fortune."

Yue Fei fell silent.

The Jin's total collapse was already anticipated.

Just didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

This means the threat to Luoyang's west, though temporarily lifted,

but has been replaced by a stronger, more unified Yuan army.

Luoyang is now completely surrounded by the Yuan army on three sides.

The sole 'road of life' to the south is the False Song Imperial Court, eyeing like a tiger, ready to pounce and bite at any moment.

A truly isolated city.

"How long can the city's provisions, fodder, and arms last?" Yue Fei changed the question.

"If we use grain and fodder sparingly, we can still last a month. Arrow consumption is greatest, stockpiles down to less than thirty percent. Rolling wood and stone can be replenished by gathering materials from civilian homes, enough to maintain. Fire oil, molten metal…… are running low."

Zhang Xian's answer was frank and cruel.

In a siege war, what is fought is attrition.

Manpower.

Material resources.

Willpower.

Now the Yuan army evidently intends to drain the blood and supplies of Luoyang's defenders bit by bit with this blunt-knife, flesh-cutting method.

They are not in a hurry to launch a full assault.

They merely maintain continuous pressure.

Like a patient wolf pack circling wounded prey, waiting for it to bleed out its last drop.

"How is Lin Chong's injury?"

"The arrow wound is no longer serious, but he lost too much blood and still needs a few days of care. That lad Yue Yun is guarding him and refuses to leave." Zhang Xian mentioned Lin Chong, his expression easing slightly.

Yue Fei nodded.

Lin Chong's night counterattack, though costly, did indeed disrupt the Yuan army's initial siege rhythm and also figured out part of the enemy's details.

Such a risky move cannot be repeated.

"Tell the soldiers."

Yue Fei's voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached every nearby officer's ears.

"Conserve arrows; fire only when you have a clear shot."

"Use rolling logs and stones only at the most critical moments."

"If the Yuan army doesn't go all out, we'll just wear them down."

"To wear them down for a day is a day's victory."

"Our reinforcements..."

He paused, then didn't continue.

Where are there any reinforcements?

The False Song court wishes they'd all drop dead at once.

Other anti-Jin rebel armies? Under the Yuan's sweeping momentum, they can barely protect themselves.

The Chen Dynasty?

Separated by that uncrossable light curtain.

That faint link, representing "the spark unextinguished, standing by," is the last hope—but it's of no use in quenching immediate thirst.

This isolated city can only rely on itself.

"Reinforcements are ourselves."

Yue Fei finally said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"It's the swords in our hands, the comrades beside us, the people behind us, and..."

He pointed to the flag on the city wall.

"Our hearts' 'Northward Aspiration'."

The crowd fell silent.

Immediately, their gazes grew firm again.

Yes.

No reinforcements.

Only to hold out.

Hold until the last moment.

Hold until... perhaps a turning point exists.

Or hold until we perish with the city.

Woo—

A low horn sounded again from the Yuan army camp.

It broke the brief calm.

Another round of routine harassment and probing began.

Dozens of catapults slowly raised their arms.

The winch of the crossbow cannon creaked.

Small units of Yuan infantry, pushing leather-covered shield carts under archer cover, slowly approached the wall.

On the wall top.

The defenders silently took their positions.

Archers nocked arrows.

Laborers lifted the last logs to the battlement edge.

The fire troops boiled the cauldron's "golden juice" until it roiled, giving off a nauseating smell.

Everything, practiced to the point of near-numbness.

Yue Fei issued no further specific orders.

Officers of all ranks knew what to do.

He only needed to stand here.

So all the defenders could see him.

Their commander-in-chief.

With them.

Stone shot screamed as it smashed into the wall or inside the city, emitting a dull boom.

Arrows crisscrossed like a swarm of locusts.

Shrieks rang out intermittently.

The battle continued in a lukewarm fashion.

The Yuan army really seemed not in a hurry.

They acted as if completing some routine task.

Attrition.

Fatigue.

Waiting.

Yue Fei's gaze swept past these harassing enemy troops before him.

It turned toward the far distance.

Beneath the tallest flag of the Yuan army's central command, embroidered with unfamiliar symbols.

He could feel it.

There.

There was a pair, or many pairs, of eyes.

They were coldly gazing at Luoyang.

Gazing at this solitary city still resisting.

Like looking at a trapped beast in a cage.

Waiting for the best opportunity to strike.

"What are you waiting for?"

Yue Fei silently asked in his heart.

Waiting for the city's grain to run out?

Waiting for the defenders to exhaust their strength?

Or… waiting for the False Song Imperial Court in the south to make a more foolish decision?

He didn't know the answer.

But he knew.

He absolutely could not keep waiting passively.

He had to do something.

Even if it was just a weak struggle.

He also wanted the enemy to know.

This solitary city.

Its bones were still very hard.

He turned around.

He gave Zhang Xian a few quiet orders.

Zhang Xian was first startled.

Then a flash of determination crossed his eyes.

He nodded firmly.

He quietly withdrew.

To carry out a new, perhaps equally daring order.

Luoyang's offense and defense.

Under the surface stalemate and consumption.

Undercurrents.

They were silently surging.