Chapter 73: The Assault on Fishing Citadel

While the fierce battle raged at the South Gate, the Northern Gate too came under attack by the Southern Liang Navy. However, the assault was far less intense—only a dozen or so ships and fewer than ten thousand soldiers advanced, loosing arrows at the city walls.

Defending the North Gate was a female deputy general, clad in a scarlet cloak and helmet, her almond-shaped eyes sharp beneath the visor, her figure tall and commanding.

This was Shui Han, the deputy to Li Xiannan.

The North Gate faced the river; atop the battlements, catapults and fire-oil bombs stood ready. As soon as the Southern Liang ships drew near, fire-oil bombs were hurled, setting their sails ablaze and leaving the ships, adrift and burning, as easy targets on the water.

“General Shui, we have achieved a great victory this time!” a captain cried, laughing as he pointed at the stricken vessels strewn across the river.

Stones from the catapults soared through the air, splashing down with mighty bursts, and when a vessel was struck, there was a thunderous crash as timber shattered and rained into the water below.

“It’s like playing pitch-pot,” another captain joked heartily.

Soldiers aboard the burning ships leapt desperately into the river, only to be cut down by arrows from the walls.

Yet Shui Han found no joy in this. Something felt amiss. The South Gate was locked in a brutal struggle, so why was the attack on the North Gate so feeble?

It felt less like a genuine assault and more like a mere show.

“How strange,” Shui Han murmured, unable to fathom the reason.

Across the river, at Fishing City.

A female officer, armored and with a long blade at her waist, stood atop the city wall, gazing at the thick black smoke rising from the southern bank. Her face was marked by deep frustration.

“Alas, our comrades fight to the death across the river, while we do nothing but stand here and gawk. What kind of soldier am I?” she grumbled.

Her name was Tang Yan, a mere captain, and only a little over three hundred troops remained to garrison Fishing City.

“Indeed, it is infuriating to witness this battle without taking part,” the soldiers behind her muttered one after another, frustrated at missing such a major engagement. Once the battle was over, they knew they would be the butt of many jokes.

“These merchants are unbelievable. A savage battle is unfolding across the river, and yet they act as though nothing is amiss.”

“Merchants are merchants; they care nothing for the affairs of nations, only for profit.”

“What’s so strange about it? The Brotherhood is always like this—they do business in every land, never caring who sits the throne.”

“I’ve heard the Brotherhood stirs up trouble everywhere—not to be trusted.”

“But some say they stand up for the weak against the strong, always helping the powerless.”

Thus the soldiers traded words, truly bystanders watching a fire from across the river. Captain Tang Yan grew increasingly restless; she longed to cross over and join the fray, but could not. She had wanted to close the gates and wait out the fighting at Linjiang City, but Li Xiannan had insisted that, with the wide river between them, Fishing City was in no danger, and that business should continue as usual, so as not to disrupt the lives of the people.

And so, even as a great battle raged across the water, Fishing City thronged with activity, merchants and travelers coming and going in an endless stream.

“It’s especially busy today. Are they rushing to sell goods at higher prices because of the war?” a female soldier asked, peering down from the wall.

Tang Yan, too, found it odd. There seemed to be an unusual number of merchants entering the city today, many of whom looked to be from Southern Liang…

Suddenly, a sense of foreboding seized Tang Yan. “Come with me!” she ordered sharply.

The soldiers, startled out of their casual mood, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Tang Yan did not answer. She placed a hand on her sword and rushed down from the wall to the eastern gate, only to find the guards missing.

“Where are they?” she shouted in anger. The soldiers, who had been loafing nearby, scrambled to their posts.

“I told you to check all merchants entering the city, and yet you dare abandon your duty!” Tang Yan berated them fiercely, then turned to intercept a group of merchants entering with a convoy of carts.

The sentries muttered, “All this fuss from a mere captain.”

Tang Yan, furious but helpless, knew that rank meant everything in the military. Though Li Xiannan had put her in charge of the city’s defense for now, as only a captain she could not command these lackadaisical soldiers.

“Just wait until General Li returns—I’ll see to it you’re all reported!” she threatened.

At the mention of a formal complaint, the men finally straightened up, grinning sheepishly. “No need for that, Captain Tang. We were just tired and stepped away for a moment.”

“You there! What are you carrying? What’s in those carts?” Tang Yan demanded.

The merchant convoy comprised a dozen or so horse-drawn wagons, each covered tightly with black cloth. Leading them was an old man riding a donkey, his beard and hair snowy white but his eyes bright and alert. Behind him, dozens of sturdy porters in rough clothes—some bearing scars on their faces—waited silently for his word.

The old man smiled amiably. “General, we are from the Southern Liang branch of the Brotherhood, transporting goods to Eastern Zhou. I am the leader of this convoy.”

As he spoke, he slid down from his donkey and, with a genial smile, slipped a silver ingot into Tang Yan’s hand. “Please, General, let us pass. We travel this road often.”

Soldiers descended from the wall, blocking the convoy at the gate.

Tang Yan shoved the silver back into his hand. “We do not take bribes. Please uncover your wagons. If all is as you say, you’ll have no trouble from us.”

She signaled for the soldiers to help with the inspection.

The men drew their weapons and lifted the black cloth. Inside were armor and blades.

“Enemy attack!” the moment Tang Yan saw the weapons and armor, she understood at once—these were Southern Liang troops in disguise.

She drew her sword and struck at the old man, aiming to take down the leader first.

But as the blade arced toward him, the old man merely laughed, catching Tang Yan’s wrist with one hand and her throat with the other. “Murong Xiao is here! Surrender and you will be spared!” he shouted.

It was Murong Xiao himself.

Behind him, his men seized their blades and, in a matter of moments, cut down the gate’s defenders.

Tang Yan, helpless as a chick in his grasp, could only glare in silent fury.

“Fishing City changes masters today. You’re a fine young woman—surrender and you may have a future,” Murong Xiao said, admiring her.

He appreciated her refusal to take the bribe—a sign of integrity worth nurturing.

Tang Yan, her throat gripped and unable to speak or move, managed only to spit at Murong Xiao’s face.

“Courting death!” Murong Xiao growled, snapping her neck with a single squeeze.

Tossing her corpse aside, he thundered, “Troops, enter the city! Take the four gates and raise the Southern Liang banners!”

His soldiers donned their Southern Liang armor, seized their weapons, and mounted the city walls.

The citizens within were left utterly bewildered—one moment, all was normal, the next, Southern Liang troops filled the streets, and chaos broke out.

With so few defenders, the city fell in an instant. The banners of Southern Liang soon fluttered atop the ramparts.

Across the river, upon the north gate of Linjiang City, Deputy General Shui Han saw the banners atop Fishing City replaced and her face turned ashen.

“They’ve taken Fishing City!”

At last, she understood: the attack at the North Gate had been a diversion, drawing their attention away from the northern shore.

Southern Liang’s true objective had been Fishing City all along.

Mounting her horse, Shui Han galloped along the ramparts toward the South Gate—she must report to Li Xiannan at once.