Chapter Sixty-Nine: Plans

At least on the opposite bank of the Bo Yi River, the Tang army did not number the ten thousand men Liu Ji had claimed, but there were still enough soldiers to fill the vast river valley. Three days after Tian Zhen's vanguard arrived, Yang He’s garrison from Yutian also reached the front. Among his men were nearly a thousand light cavalry, who assumed the role of scouts, patrolling the flanking forests and the surrounding areas.

In truth, everyone knew that when the Tubo destroyed the rattan bridge, they had severed their own lines of communication as well. However, military camps have their rules; once war breaks out, vigilance becomes paramount. The closer one is to the battlefield, the less room there is for negligence.

Yang Yu and his unit were the first to arrive at Xu Guangjing’s encampment, only to witness a peculiar scene. The tents had been erected days before; the defensive ditches, watchtowers, and wooden barricades were all in place. Yet the soldiers were neither drilling in the camp nor standing in orderly formation—they had all swarmed into the woods, felling towering trees and dragging the logs back into the camp.

“Where’s Deputy Garrison Commander Xu?” Yang Yu called to one of the soldiers—who was busy hauling timber, never pausing or lifting his head, simply pointing with his hand.

Following the direction indicated, Yang Yu immediately spotted Xu Guangjing. The man was stripped down to nothing but his undergarments, hefting a log over twenty feet long on his shoulders as he strode forward with unflagging energy.

“Whoa.” Yang Yu dismounted, tossing his reins aside for an attendant to catch. He followed Xu Guangjing into the camp, noting that there wasn't even a sentry on patrol.

Aside from those out felling and transporting trees, everyone else was gathered here. Several elderly men—clearly craftsmen from the rear echelons—were instructing the soldiers in preliminary processing of the logs, hacking off superfluous branches with axes and knives before piling the trunks aside.

Elsewhere, a few carpenters were further working the logs. With the help of the soldiers, they hauled each trunk onto a workbench, where two men would saw it lengthwise into planks. Judging by the high stack of boards already accumulated, this work had been ongoing for days.

What was the purpose of all this? These materials weren’t needed for siege engines—could they be for bridge-building?

Xu Guangjing set down the freshly felled trunk, handing it off for processing, then turned and caught sight of Yang Yu following behind.

“Lord Yu, have you only just arrived?”

“Indeed. This land is all wooded valleys and hills—there isn’t a single even stretch of road. We’re supposed to be cavalry, but we move slower than the infantry. In less than a hundred li, half our time was spent tending to the horses, fussing over their feed—no wonder we made no speed at all.”

Yang Yu grumbled, half in jest, mostly to strike up a conversation. He had no authority to lord it over these old campaigners under Liu Ji, and they would hardly tolerate such airs; better to be plainspoken and win some goodwill.

“You’re too modest, Lord Yu. When it comes to scouting and guarding the flanks, we foot soldiers can’t do a thing. With you here, so many troubles are spared.”

“People say you’re the old warhorse Xu, and you won’t let yourself be outdone even in words,” Yang Yu joked, and Xu Guangjing chuckled, letting the jab pass. Neither man was foolish—they both knew Yang Yu hadn’t come for idle chat. But even if Yang Yu had been at leisure, Xu Guangjing certainly was not.

“Has there been word from Fifth Brother?” Yang Yu’s question caught him off guard, and he shook his head blankly.

“Don’t try to hide it from me. If not for Fifth Brother, what are you all doing here?”

So that was it. Xu Guangjing saw no point in concealment. The situation was plain to see—Yang Yu would surely visit the rattan bridge, and there was no hiding the truth.

“You mean this? The Tubo pulled up the planks but left the bridge’s frame intact. If we want to cross, we can’t expect them to restore it for us. We have no choice but to find our own way. I’m not very clever, so this was the only idea I had.”

With this, Yang Yu understood. There was still no news of Liu Ji—so many days had passed, his fate uncertain, and the prospects seemed grim. Without a surprise force, a hard assault would be necessary.

Xu Guangjing was far from dull.

But if it came to a direct attack—Yang Yu had crossed that bridge himself. It was only possible because the Tubo defenders were unprepared, their ranks made up mostly of locals unwilling to fight to the death. They had hoped to take captives, never expecting to face men who cared nothing for their own lives.

Now the situation was different. The enemy was fully prepared. Even if they managed to force a crossing, their numbers would barely make a dent.

Watching the furious activity in the camp, Yang Yu decided against further questioning. As he turned to leave, Xu Guangjing glanced over at the same moment—their thoughts aligned.

“No, Fifth Brother has a charmed life. He escaped that terrible situation and slew all the Tubo soldiers. Mere snowfields and glaciers will not claim him,” Xu Guangjing said, more to convince himself than anyone else, nodding forcefully as though to anchor his faith.

Across the Bo Yi River, in a small village less than a hundred li away, Liu Ji gazed absently toward the icy plains, so lost in thought that he failed to notice someone approaching.

“Have all the captives been released?”

“Yes, and our men are watching them—they won’t make any trouble.”

Zhang Wujia now interacted with him with increasing ease. Aside from the matter both preferred to leave unspoken, their cooperation grew more seamless by the day. With Zhang Wujia’s help, Liu Ji could spare himself from the camp’s minutiae, focusing his energies on more pressing concerns.

This was precisely why Zhang Wujia had sought him out.

“Commander, what are your plans for the next step?”

Zhang Wujia’s question was understandable. Liu Ji himself was unsure—he could hardly hope to storm the rattan bridge with only thirty men and support the main army in crossing.

They had stayed here a few days, partly to tend the wounded and grant them a comfortable environment, partly to wait for news. Kang Laosi had gone to Hepulao City to gather intelligence, but what he would learn, no one could say.

Any decision could only be made on the basis of reliable information. Thus, Liu Ji had no clear answer to Zhang Wujia’s inquiry—nor to the doubts shared by his men.

“Our lives have survived countless perils—we won’t give them up lightly. Even if you were willing, I would not be,” Liu Ji said with burning eyes, his gaze recalling past ordeals. Somehow, this young man always inspired confidence.

“The most urgent task is to find a way to contact our people across the river. As for whether that Bolu man can be trusted, we must observe further. If we misjudge, it could mean the annihilation of the company—we cannot afford the risk.”

Zhang Wujia understood. Whatever motives had brought them on this venture, a commander who truly valued his men’s lives was one worth following.