Chapter 95: A Changed Mindset, a Rogue Archer

"Fire!"
"Quick, fire your arrows!"

Looking out past the city walls, the rebel soldiers approached in groups of five rows, shields held high. The defenders on the ramparts shouted incessantly, unleashing a torrent of arrows toward the enemy. However, because the rebels were shielded by both armor and interlocking shields, they moved forward like a slow-creeping sea of men, and the arrows inflicted little damage.

As siege ladders and mobile towers slowly neared the city, the soldiers on the parapets quickly lowered heavy, straight logs they had prepared. Pushing them out from the battlements, they braced the logs against the siege engines to prevent the rebels from pushing them right up to the walls.

Suddenly, a massive stone, flung from a catapult on the plains, crashed into a defensive watchtower. The impact shattered the wooden beams, sending three soldiers tumbling from the platform. One managed to grab onto a remaining timber, while the other two plummeted directly onto the walkway below, moaning in agony.

"Prepare!"

A soldier stood atop the city gate. As iron hooks were lowered from both sides, he watched the enemy battering ram below, his nerves stretched to the limit. These hooks had to catch the ram's striking log, but because the ram was covered by a protective roof to deflect arrows, the window of opportunity was only a heartbeat or two long. As the commander, he had to remain perfectly focused, observing the rhythm of the rebels' strikes to time the drop accurately.

Just as the soldier raised his hand to signal, an arrow flew up from below. Caught off guard, the soldier was struck directly in the face, and blood instantly began to stream from the wound. His eyes remained wide open, but he had no chance to utter another sound before he went limp and slid down the wall.

The surrounding defenders turned pale at the sight of their fallen comrade and the blood smearing the wall.

"I’ll do it!"

One soldier knew that sticking his head out meant death, yet he stepped forward without hesitation to take the fallen man's place. As a defender of Jinyang, there were some things that simply had to be done.

"Prepare!"

The soldier was barely twenty years old. As he leaned out to look toward the gate, his face was etched with tension, his eyes locked solely on the ram below, unable to spare a glance for anything else.

On the rampart, the other defenders gripped their ropes tightly, watching the young man and waiting for his command. But in the next instant, an arrow whistled past the young man’s cheek. With a scream, he clutched his blood-soaked face in agony.

Seeing the young man’s gore-stained hands, the hearts of all who watched sank. Everyone knew he had barely escaped with his life, and the next man might not be so lucky.

"I’ll do it..."

The rebel drums continued to thunder outside the city. Great stones flew over the battlements, and arrows rained down incessantly. Amidst the pervasive anxiety, a middle-aged soldier stepped forward. Everyone in the Yingyang Garrison knew him; he had parents at home and a wife and children waiting for him.

"I’ll do it!"

An elderly veteran, unable to watch any longer, pushed forward, determined to take the risk for the sake of his comrade, his fellow soldiers, and the citizens of the city.

"Let me do it!"

The veteran heard a voice and felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned with a scowl, ready to rebuke the reckless soldier, but his expression shifted to shock the moment he saw who it was.

"Commander!"

The veteran stared at Fu Zihou. How could he not recognize the Commander of Jinyang’s East City? This was the man who had visited his home, given him money to buy grain, and helped him reclaim his land and household rations.

"Commander!"

"Commander!"

The surrounding soldiers were stunned, all trying to block Fu Zihou as he prepared to lean out himself.

"I’ll go!"
"Commander, let me go!"
"I’m not afraid to die! I’ll do it!"

The soldiers of the Yingyang Garrison argued amongst themselves. They had all witnessed what this young commander had done for them in recent days. Everyone knew the danger, and while no one wanted to face that lethal exposure, they would all gladly do it for Fu Zihou. In their eyes, they could afford to die, but the Commander could not.

"Commander, you must protect the people of East Jinyang! You cannot go!" the veteran pleaded, gripping Fu Zihou and refusing to let him expose himself.

"If I, Fu Zihou, dare not even stick my head out, if I dare not take the risks that you take, how can I speak of protecting the people? I am the Commander of the East City, and I am *your* commander!" Fu Zihou looked at them, his resolve iron-clad.

He knew that his intuition gave him a better chance of survival than the average soldier. He looked at the veteran, whose eyes were red and who still refused to let go.

"If you still acknowledge me as your commander, let go! Whether we live or die in this defense, I, Fu Zihou, wish to fight alongside you, not hide away in fear of death. Otherwise, I would have no face to see any of you, whether in this life or the next!"

Fu Zihou scanned the crowd. Initially, he had come to the East City only because his conscience wouldn't let him rest, planning to organize the defenses before finding an excuse to hide in the safer West City. He didn't want to die, nor did he want to face the overwhelming rebel tide. But when the rebels struck unexpectedly and he hesitated, that same conscience held him back. He feared that if he hid, he would never be able to face the survivors of the catastrophe once Li Yuan and the Sui army drove the rebels back. He feared the nightmares, the shame he would feel before his grandfather—who had once boasted that his grandson was worthy of his own page in the family genealogy—and the disappointment of the teacher who had once guided him.

Finally, he chose to stay, to give his all and leave the rest to fate.

"Commander!" The veteran’s eyes were bloodshot, his grip loosening.

The soldiers around them, young and old, stared at Fu Zihou in silence. They had seen him lead troops out of the city before, but they had never been part of those missions. This was the first time they had seen his expression in the heat of battle, and the first time they had heard him speak such words. Their blood surged; they swore in their hearts that, come what may, they would follow him to the end.

"Don't worry! Zihou is the one guarding this city, the commander leading you—the men outside cannot kill me!" Fu Zihou smiled confidently, his eyes suddenly turning fierce.

As the veteran released him, Fu Zihou stepped forward, pressed his hands against the wall, and looked down. The soldiers gripped their ropes, holding their breath, their nerves taut. They feared for his safety, but they were also filled with a burning rage; they vowed that if anything happened to him, they would make the rebels pay with their lives.

"Prepare!" Fu Zihou commanded.

Watching the ram strike the gate, he felt the rhythm. Suddenly, his intuition flared. He tilted his head slightly, though his eyes remained fixed on the ram.

"Release!"

At his shout, the tense soldiers released the ropes. The iron hooks dropped, and as the ropes went slack, they pulled back with all their might. Fu Zihou watched as the ram was hoisted upward, and only then did he look toward the source of the arrows.

A young rebel soldier hiding behind a ladder was drawing his bow, aiming directly at him. Fu Zihou’s gaze turned icy, and he stood still, letting the rebel take his aim.

Behind the ladder, Qi Lingyang held his longbow. He frowned, seeing the young Sui commander on the wall. His first shot had been deflected by a stray arrow, and the second had been a mere coincidence. Qi Lingyang had absolute confidence in his archery; that arrogant Sui officer would not have a third chance.

As he released the string, Qi Lingyang expected to see the man drop. Instead, he watched in disbelief as the Sui officer tilted his head, effortlessly dodging the full-force shot.

"How is that possible..."

Qi Lingyang was stunned. At that distance, there should have been no time for the target to react. Before he could make sense of it, his momentary lapse left him exposed. On the other side of the wall, Yin Tianzong had already aimed at him. Yin Tianzong released his bowstring, and his arrow ricocheted off the ladder’s timber, striking Qi Lingyang in the foot.

Overcome by the sudden, searing pain, Qi Lingyang instinctively pulled back. Before he could drop his bow or grab the ladder, he tumbled backward and fell.

On the ramparts, Fu Zihou witnessed the scene. He noted the fallen rebel, then turned to see the citizens pouring black water onto the ram below, followed by torches. As the ram erupted in flames and the rebels trying to smash the hooks began to shriek, Fu Zihou knew the gate was secure for now.

He walked back along the wall, past the damaged watchtower. He ordered the citizens to carry the wounded to safety, then picked up a spare beam and joined the other soldiers, working together to shore up the collapsing structure.

"Hold the line!"
"The mud on the mobile tower is falling off! Throw the fire!"
"Fire your arrows!"

On the ramparts, inspired by a commander like Fu Zihou, neither the soldiers nor the citizens feared the danger or the vast enemy army. They shouted with fierce, unwavering determination, fighting together to hold the city.