Chapter Sixty-Eight: Hesitation

After much hesitation, Duogu Li finally decided not to inform the Tibetan officers in the camp about the situation, at least for now. The truth was, he still didn’t know who these newcomers were, nor what their intentions might be. Of course, the fact that his family was in their hands was an extremely important factor.

He set the meeting for noon, not because he moved slowly, but because life in the military camp was not so free—leaving without attracting attention required a good reason. Something happening at home, a daughter coming to fetch him, these provided a ready excuse. Still, he finished his morning drills before approaching his superior.

He was captain of a hundred-man unit, all locals from Boli, with about a fifth from his own village and the rest from nearby settlements. Born a hunter, his skill with the bow had caught the Tibetans’ eyes, earning him promotion to captain.

Leaving camp, Duogu Li brought no one along, just his daughter, and strode quickly toward home. Soon they reached the agreed spot—a grassy knoll, the hill covered with lush pasture grown tall through months of rain, now reaching above the calf. Within the grass, countless young hares and field mice scattered as he approached, and Duogu Li, aided by the noise these animals made, steadied himself, listened intently, and suddenly called out.

“Friends from afar, since you’re here, show yourselves.”

Liu Ji knew his presence had been exposed, but remained calm, rising from the grass. Since the other had come alone, he had nothing to fear.

Duogu Li watched the man approach, growing wary, and pulled his daughter behind him.

“Father, it’s him—he captured everyone in the village,” the girl whispered, hiding behind him, her eyes fearful.

Liu Ji stopped about five paces away and asked in the Boli dialect, “You sought me?”

“What do you want?” Duogu Li didn’t ask their origins, nor their destination; he went straight to the point. This directness told Liu Ji he was a leader.

“First, tell me—how many guard the bridge?” Liu Ji asked.

Duogu Li’s expression darkened. He shifted his feet imperceptibly, shielding his daughter entirely.

“Are you... Tang people?” he asked.

Liu Ji nodded, confirming the guess. The question was meant to test his reaction—bandits wouldn’t care about the bridge’s defenders; only Tang men posed a real threat.

Duogu Li scrutinized him for a moment, some surprise in his voice: “That’s a snow wolf pelt. You came from the ice plains? That’s a whole wolf pack—did you kill them all?”

Liu Ji was startled and glanced down. Indeed, he wore a snow wolf skin, changed out of necessity after his old robe had become bloodstained.

“We didn’t kill them all. Perhaps twenty or thirty remain,” he replied.

Duogu Li drew a sharp breath. His daughter had told him the outsiders numbered no more than fifty, yet they’d managed to defeat nearly two hundred wolves. Such ferocity made him hesitate.

He believed the stranger; that wolf pack had long been invincible on the ice plains. Anyone crossing that way couldn’t escape them. If not for the wolves, he’d have hunted more game and wouldn’t have ended up serving the Tibetans.

But if the Tang were stronger than the Tibetans, wouldn’t he and his men be the first to die?

Clearly, this young Tang was waiting for his choice. Compared to the soldiers, the women and children in the village would perish even faster. As a hunter, Duogu Li was no stranger to nature’s cruelty—he understood this all too well.

“These past days, the Tibetans have been conscripting men. All villages nearby—the adult men were taken. Those who refused paid heavy taxes. If you don’t want your family ruined, you must guard the bridge. My camp has a thousand men; there are two more camps, all locals. The officers are Tibetans.”

Three thousand, then. Liu Ji’s expression didn’t change. He waited for more.

Seeing his calm, Duogu Li continued without hesitation: “I’ve heard the Tibetans brought many troops from Hepulao City. I don’t know the exact number, all cavalry. The leader is a high-ranking officer—even our own commander is deeply respectful.”

“Have you seen this leader?” Liu Ji asked.

“Only from a distance. No beard, likely young, stern eyes. The Tibetans camp on the other side, a mile away from us.”

That settled it—this must be Xidongzan. His cavalry likely numbered around three thousand, yet Liu Ji was uneasy. If Xidongzan’s entire force was here, then Hepulao City, a hundred miles away, would be left undefended.

This was unusual. Liu Ji pondered for a moment, recalling what Zeng Jiuniang had said. If Xidongzan meant to deceive, he wouldn’t have given her reliable information. The Tibetans might have another plan. Their small advance party, besides aiming for the rattan bridge, also needed to uncover the Tibetans’ true intentions.

Duogu Li waited in silence, forced to endure his own anxiety. Several times he considered seizing Liu Ji to force them to release his people, but each time he looked at the snow wolf pelt, his confidence faltered.

Unable to bear the uncertainty, he finally spoke: “What is it you want?”

“Is the defense of the rattan bridge rotated among your men?” Liu Ji asked.

His question startled Duogu Li. He’d already told them there were thousands guarding the bridge—did they still intend to attack it? It was madness.

“Even if you take the bridgehead, it’s useless. All the planks have been removed—now it’s just a few rattan cables stretched across the river.”

“Oh?” Liu Ji didn’t seem surprised. If the bridge were intact, that would be strange.

“The Tibetans poured oil over the bridge supports. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll set it alight. The rattan bridge is a trap; best not to pursue it.”

How could they not pursue it? If the Tibetans meant to destroy the bridge, they wouldn’t go to such trouble. What mattered was that the enemy still hoped to keep it, which meant there would be an opportunity. Liu Ji didn’t explain further, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“I’ll remain in your village for a few days. If you’re uneasy, you may return to check on things. But if the Tibetans learn of this, we won’t guarantee the safety of your women and children. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Duogu Li didn’t move. He understood perfectly—if the Tang were safe, so were his family. Before leaving, a vague question lingered in his mind, needing to be voiced.

“You look familiar... Was it you—on that day, when two Tang scouts rushed the bridgehead?”

“Yes. There are ten thousand Tang men like me now. The Tibetans’ defeat is inevitable. Ask yourself, do you Boli people need to lose your lives? Go home and think it over.”

Clearly, that day had left a deep impression. Liu Ji admitted it openly. There was little threat in his words, but the pressure was immense.

Even as he departed, Duogu Li never received the answer he desired. He left his daughter behind—after all, one hostage or a whole family made no difference. As he walked away, Liu Ji gave a signal. The girl, surprised, saw at least ten men emerge from the grass, forming a circle.

“Kang Lao Si, have you been to Hepulao City?” Liu Ji called him aside.

Kang Lao Si shook his head. “No, but I can find a way.”

“Go at once. There’s a Stone Family horse inn in the city. Find Master Shi, gather information, tell him I sent you.”

Kang Lao Si agreed and departed. His appearance suited a Sogdian merchant, and he spoke the Boli dialect—he was the ideal choice for the task.