Chapter Fifteen: Trouble Comes Amidst the Grain Robbery

Yuan Gaesu-zhen could not dissuade her brother, and in a fit of frustration, she took troops to guard the supply route herself. In her heart, she felt somewhat at ease—after all, what danger could there be within Goguryeo’s own borders? These two grain routes had been traveled many times before; though sometimes mountain bandits would attempt to raid them, after being repelled several times and leaving hundreds of bodies behind, they no longer dared to return.

At this moment, Yuan Gaesu-zhen was mounted, overseeing her soldiers, completely unaware that someone nearby was watching her.

“So that’s Yuan Gaesu-wen’s sister?” Li Wenyuan asked the man from Buyeo beside him.

“Yes, General of the Imperial State, that is indeed her. She is the daughter of Daedaero Yuan Taizuo, one of Goguryeo’s high officials. She has trained in martial arts since childhood, with a bold and lively temperament, but she is also clever, very much favored by Yuan Taizuo,” the Buyeo man replied.

Not all from Buyeo followed the Goguryeo king with unwavering loyalty. Those who had witnessed the prosperity of the Central Plains were more inclined to submit. The man before Li Wenyuan was a Buyeo merchant who often traveled between Pyongyang and the imperial capital, now serving as his guide in the army.

Liaodong City was besieging Yuan Taizuo; if I capture Yuan Gaesu-zhen here, Yuan Gaesu-wen will likely collapse, Li Wenyuan thought. He wasted no time, urging his cavalry to prepare for battle.

They had been shadowing the supply convoy, searching for an opportune moment to strike, and only when darkness fell did they find the terrain they desired for combat. After slaughtering Yuan Gaesu-wen’s two thousand vanguard troops with Xue Ju by the banks of the Yalu River, Li Wenyuan had led two hundred cavalry far behind enemy lines, crossing the river in the lower reaches and raiding various supply lines across the Korean Peninsula. As all were cavalry, they required suitable terrain for battle, but the northern peninsula was mountainous, and it wasn’t until nightfall that they found a relatively level spot. The Goguryeo troops, exhausted from their day’s journey, constructed makeshift fortifications and began preparing their evening meal.

“Remember: that woman general—she must be taken alive. If she dies, she’s worthless,” Li Wenyuan ordered his cavalry.

Many of his riders were locals from Jin City, and Li Wenyuan, though an officer, carried himself without arrogance. His men liked him for it. One cavalryman joked, “Big brother, you’re going to capture an enemy female general on campaign—won’t that break Qiuniang’s heart?”

Li Wenyuan brandished his whip playfully. “You talk too much. When we get back, have Qiuniang tell your wife that you’ve got a woman in Liaodong, and see if she believes her or you.”

That rider’s wife was evidently strict, for even a hardened soldier who would kill without blinking on the battlefield quickly backed down. Li Wenyuan laughed heartily and said to his men, “The reason I chose you for this mission behind enemy lines isn’t just your courage in battle. It’s also because you all have families. In a foreign land, our greatest enemy isn’t the unfamiliar terrain, language, or beliefs—it’s ourselves. A man acting recklessly because of lust can doom the entire unit. You all heard what happened to Zhang Xinfan’s men who crossed the river with us the other day?”

Zhang Xinfan, a man from Shangdang Commandery, was renowned for his bravery. After crossing the Yalu with Li Wenyuan to disrupt Goguryeo’s supply lines, he raided a small village. Some soldiers, blinded by bloodlust, committed atrocities and missed the best chance to withdraw. As a result, they were annihilated, their heads heaped into a gruesome cairn as a warning.

Seeing his men fall silent, Li Wenyuan continued, “But it’s all right. We all have families, and we know that even with money, you need to be alive to spend it, right? After today’s business, we’ll slaughter all their cattle and horses and feast—out here in the wilderness, no one will know.”

The joking cavalryman understood Li Wenyuan was boosting morale and replied, “Meat would be great. We brothers have been gnawing on dry biscuits for ages in this damned place. If we had some wine, it’d be perfect.”

“There’s only military grain on the other side—no wine. But when the war’s over and we return to Jin City, drinks are on me at the best tavern in the city,” Li Wenyuan promised, clapping him on the shoulder. “Get ready—let’s begin!”

Meanwhile, Yuan Gaesu-zhen was in her tent, washing her flowing hair. The weather had been oddly changeable lately, and the troops often had to march against the wind, ending up dust-covered and disheveled. Suddenly, she heard the distant thunder of thousands of hooves outside her tent, so fierce that the water in her basin rippled. She quickly wrung her damp hair into a ponytail and was about to lift the tent flap to see what was happening.

But a sentry beat her to it, rushing inside. The female guard announced, “General, Sui cavalry are attacking the camp!”

Yuan Gaesu-zhen was shocked, hastily donning her armor as she wondered—weren’t the Sui’s raiding cavalry wiped out days ago?

Mounted, she looked around at her guards and felt somewhat reassured. Yet the camp was ablaze and in chaos. Not far off, a squad of cavalry in gleaming steel armor and white surcoats was herding the panicked crowd into a corner, but not killing them. Their leader, with a red plume on his helmet, held a lance and called out in the Buyeo tongue, “Surrender and you will not die!”

Li Wenyuan had learned these words from the Buyeo merchant, hoping to minimize casualties among his men. In these times, dying in battle was seen as an honor, but Li Wenyuan, influenced by later generations, could not treat his soldiers as mere expendables. Each had a family behind them—a lost soldier could mean a ruined household.

Yuan Gaesu-zhen saw that the Sui cavalry were not slaughtering her soldiers or conscripts, only herding them into a corner. Seeing that defeat was inevitable and that fighting to the last would bring no victory, she declared, “I am Yuan Gaesu-zhen. I order you to lay down your arms and surrender to the Sui forces before you. All ranks are absolved of guilt.”

Hearing that surrender meant pardon, the already demoralized soldiers and forcibly conscripted laborers threw down their weapons and knelt.

Yuan Gaesu-zhen approached Li Wenyuan and, according to custom, removed her sword and handed it to him.

Li Wenyuan carefully studied this woman, daughter of Yuan Taizuo, who had never appeared in the official histories. He was about to call the Buyeo man to interpret when Yuan Gaesu-zhen spoke: “I grew up in the Guiyi Ward of the capital and do not require a translator.”

Li Wenyuan had heard from the merchant about this woman: raised in the Guiyi Ward, she had received a proper Central Plains education and valued propriety and benevolence.

Unable to endure Li Wenyuan’s scrutiny, Yuan Gaesu-zhen’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her tone was unyielding: “I will go with you as your captive. But you must release these conscripts—their families are waiting for them to return home.”

Li Wenyuan heard an undeniable authority in her voice and thought of the legendary Empress Wu. This innate air of command was impossible to conceal. Suddenly, he recalled the reputation of such noblewomen and felt a pang of regret—indeed, Yuan Gaesu-zhen spoke again: “I can help you persuade the Goguryeo villages you wish to attack to provide what you need. But in return, you must not harm those who have already surrendered.”

Li Wenyuan smiled in agreement, but his mind buzzed—regretting his decision for the first time. He had only wanted to abduct a princess to trouble Yuan Gaesu-wen, but now the tables were turned. This was going to be troublesome.