Hot flashes

Before the news of the great victory at Luoshui had completely cooled down, new military intelligence and developments were already rapidly being transmitted and fermenting within the sophisticated war machine of Northern Liang.

Xiao Jue did not immediately march south after defeating the Shence Army, heading straight for Nandu.

Instead, he set up his central army camp on the north bank of the Luo River, where the river had just been ravaged by a bloody battle and the water was not yet fully clear.

"My lord, our army's morale is high. Why not take advantage of this momentum and march south in one fell swoop?" A young and ambitious general boldly requested permission to fight during the military council.

Xiao Jue's gaze fell on the huge map, his finger slowly tracing the vast area south of the Luo River and all the way to the north of Hulao Pass.

There were dozens of cities and passes of varying sizes scattered throughout the area. Although they were nominally under the jurisdiction of the imperial court, they were actually governed by their own forces, and the generals in charge had different intentions.

"The Shence Army has been annihilated, the court is terrified, and the Southern Capital is shaken. This is a good opportunity to win hearts and minds, not a time for reckless fighting." Xiao Jue's voice was not loud, but it suppressed the restlessness in the tent. "If we march south now, the cities along the way will either resist out of fear or surrender at the first sign of trouble. It may seem smooth, but in reality, there are hidden dangers."

Those who resist must be attacked separately, which will deplete our morale; those who surrender are not truly loyal and may become a threat to our rear.

He pointed to several key cities: "Order the vanguard cavalry to spread proclamations widely. As for the content," he paused, looking at Zhou Heng, who was sitting below him trying to make his presence as low as possible, "Military Advisor Zhou, you draft it."

Tell these city garrisons and governors that the court is tyrannical, the rebellious Prince Qi has been executed, and the Northern Liang army is here to mourn the people and punish the guilty. Those who obey will retain their official titles and ranks, and the people will live in peace; those who resist will face the warning of the Shence Army.

Zhou Heng's scalp tightened, and he quickly replied, "Yes, Lord Marquis." Writing a manifesto? He was an expert at that; it was nothing more than a war of public opinion and psychological warfare!

He would portray his own side as righteous and awe-inspiring, while hurling insults and accusing the opponent, adding carrots and sticks to the mix... Countless historical templates and modern rhetoric flashed through his mind in an instant.

Soon, a scathing and reasoned proclamation was written by Zhou Heng. After being reviewed and revised by Xiao Jue, it was copied extensively and carried by the light cavalry of Beiliang, and distributed to towns and villages south of the Luo River like leaflets.

The proclamation had an effect even faster than expected.

First, there are the counties closest to Luoshui, which were already indecisive.

The garrison commander and local strongmen sent messengers almost the day after receiving the proclamation. They arrived at the Northern Liang camp with household registers and city gate keys, trembling with fear, to surrender.

For them, the imperial court was far away, the corpses of the Shence Army still floated in the nearby river, while the blades of the Northern Liang Army were right before their eyes. The choice was not difficult at all.

Xiao Jue accepted all of this, comforted him gently, and promised on the spot to retain his position, ordering him to continue to maintain his local post, but he must accept the supervision of the military affairs officer sent by Beiliang, and immediately procure some grain for military use.

After going through the whole process, the surrendered soldiers were extremely grateful, and the Northern Liang army controlled the key location and obtained supplies without bloodshed.

But there are also tough nuts to crack.

One hundred and twenty li southeast of Luoshui, there is a city called "Wancheng". The city is not high but the walls are thick, guarding a vital transportation hub between the north and south.

The city lord's surname is Feng. He is the descendant of a family of generals who are loyal and devoted to the imperial court.

Upon receiving the proclamation, they not only tore up the messenger's document but also cut off his ears and nose before sending him back, declaring that they would live and die with the city. They also sent someone to the Southern Capital to urgently request reinforcements.

"The Feng family has been running Wancheng for three generations, and their influence is deep. The city has ample food supplies, and the garrison of about five thousand men are all locals, so their will to resist is likely strong," Mr. Du said, stroking his beard. "Moreover, its location is crucial. If it is not eliminated, our army's southward supply route will always be threatened by it."

Xiao Jue stared coldly at the location of Wancheng. "If we want to establish our authority, we should choose this place. Issue the order: Han Lie will lead 10,000 vanguard troops to immediately set out and besiege Wancheng. There's no need to rush the attack; first, cut off their external support and cut off their firewood and resources."

"This humble general obeys!" Han Lie, who had become even more silent and fierce after recovering from his injuries, stepped forward and clasped his hands in a fist salute.

"Zhou Heng," Xiao Jue suddenly called out.

Zhou Heng jumped in surprise: "Yes!"

"You will accompany General Han. You need not participate in military affairs, but simply observe from the sidelines and record and report back in detail on all matters concerning the siege every day." Xiao Jue's tone left no room for doubt, "especially the reactions within the city."

Zhou Heng inwardly groaned. What was so interesting about fighting? Especially a siege! He dared not disobey, so he could only grimace and reply, "...Yes."

Thus, Zhou Heng was forced to leave the central army camp and followed Han Lie's vanguard, marching through the dust and smoke all the way to Wancheng.

Wancheng stands at a strategic crossroads between north and south. Although its city walls are not the tallest, they are built of huge bluestones. After three generations of the Feng family's management, the walls are thick and the moat is deep, with numerous arrow towers, exuding a heavy and unyielding solidity.

City Lord Feng Jiming was nearly fifty years old, with a gaunt face and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

He stood atop the city wall, wearing a worn-out Mingguang armor, his hand on his sword, gazing at the Northern Liang army formation slowly pressing in from outside the city like dark clouds. His face showed no fear, only a icy solemnity.

"Father, the Northern Liang proclamation..." The eldest son, Feng Ben, held a roll of torn and barely glued-back letter, hesitating to speak.

Feng Jiming didn't even glance at it, his voice dry yet firm: "No need to look. It's nothing but threats and inducements, words to confuse people. My Feng family has received the nation's favor for three generations, guarding this city for generations. How can we be like those spineless cowards, surrendering at the first sign of trouble?"

"But the imperial court..." Feng Ben's voice was even lower, "The Shence Army is gone, and there hasn't been a single word of reinforcements from Nandu..."

"Shut up!" Feng Jiming whirled around, his eyes sharp. "The city has enough provisions for half a year, the soldiers are fighting bravely, and the people are united. Even if Beiliang has 100,000 troops, they'll have to break a few teeth to take this tough nut! Pass down the order: anyone who dares to surrender will be executed on the spot! Their entire family will be expelled from the city!"

"Yes!" Feng Ben dared not say anything more and bowed as he withdrew.

As Feng Jiming watched his eldest son's departing figure, a faint trace of weariness flashed across the depths of his eyes.

How could he not know that the situation was perilous? The court was corrupt, the King of Qi had just been defeated, and the Northern Liang was at the height of its power. Wancheng was like a lone boat, about to face a stormy sea.

But he had his own principles, a loyalty etched into his very bones, the foundation upon which the Feng family had stood for centuries. Surrender? That word never appeared on his list of options.

The siege by the Northern Liang army began. Commander Han Lie was a calm and experienced strategist who did not rush to attack the city. Instead, he established a strong fortified camp, with deep moats and high walls. His cavalrymen roamed around the city, clearing the area around Wancheng like an iron plate and completely cutting off all contact with the outside world.

Initially, Feng Jiming strictly ordered all units to maintain a strong defense, and morale was still relatively high. He personally inspected the defenses, ate and slept with the soldiers, and even shared some of his own food with the wounded.

Logs and stones were piled up like mountains on the city wall, and large pots of boiling molten gold were burning day and night. Archers took turns on guard duty, and everything was in good order.

However, time is the best eroder.