Chapter Eighteen: The Yu Liang Avenue

Yuan Gai Suwen had not slept a single moment throughout the night. As the first light began to pale the horizon, the raging fires that had consumed the encampment were finally extinguished. With exhaustion etched across his face, Yuan Gai Suwen sat within the main tent of the central camp, listening as his subordinates reported, "There is less than one hundred thousand bushels of grain remaining, and most of our siege supplies are lost. The front camp suffered minimal casualties from the cavalry’s assault, only seven thousand wounded and dead. The central camp, sent out to fight the fire before they could armor up, took the heaviest losses—over ten thousand dead and injured. The rear camp, where the fire broke out first and was struck hardest by cavalry, suffered nearly fifteen thousand casualties. We now have one hundred fifty thousand troops fit for battle."

Yuan Gai Suwen’s face darkened. "Last night’s surprise attack by the Sui caused such devastating losses. Who was responsible for the rear camp’s arrangements?"

"It was Jin Wu, Commander."

"And where is Jin Wu? Why did he not answer my drum call to gather the officers?" Yuan Gai Suwen’s anger flared.

"Commander, Jin Wu led his troops to fight the fire last night. He was slain in battle, stabbed repeatedly by the Sui raiders."

Yuan Gai Suwen’s expression softened a little. "General Jin Wu was unmatched in valor. Though he was careless in camp arrangements, he fought fiercely against the Sui, none could rival him—a rare warrior indeed. Have his body collected and sent home, and see he is buried with full military honors."

Afterward, Yuan Gai Suwen led his ministers and generals to inspect the three camps. The events of the previous night had left the army anxious and morale low, and now the commander’s presence was needed to reassure the troops. Smiling at the bandaged wounded, Yuan Gai Suwen spoke, "You are all true heroes. Even under surprise attack, you fought bravely and drove back the enemy. I am proud of each of you!"

He then went around, offering personal words of comfort to the soldiers, further cementing his image as a benevolent leader who cherished his troops like sons—an integral part of his strategy. For now, their rations could last three to five days, enough until the supply convoy arrived. After the Sui’s harassment, Yuan Gai Suwen had dispatched twenty thousand men to guard the supply route, and had managed to annihilate three bands of enemy cavalry, securing the logistics.

He explained the situation to his ministers and generals, announcing that after stockpiling two more days of rations, he would march on Liaodong Fortress. He also sent out a contingent to loudly display the Goguryeo banners, riding back and forth at a distance from the city to signal to Yuan Taizuo within that reinforcements were near, urging him to hold out a little longer.

Within Liaodong Fortress, chaos reigned. Most of the buildings had been dismantled for defense and repairs to the walls. Wounded soldiers sat wherever space permitted, and the northeast corner had been designated as a site for burning the dead.

Long influenced by the Central Plains dynasties, Goguryeo practiced burial, but during war, one must be pragmatic. To prevent plague from rotting corpses, the dead were burned on-site, their ashes placed in urns, to be carried home for proper burial once peace returned.

The first batch of city laborers had already been drafted for military use, and Yuan Taizuo had conscripted a second group to assist in the defense. The will to resist within the city was growing weaker, and morale among the soldiers atop the walls was sinking fast. The city was on the verge of collapse, yet the distant Goguryeo banners and riders gave Yuan Taizuo renewed hope.

Yuan Taizuo addressed his people, "See now, my son approaches with a mighty army to rescue us. If we can hold Liaodong Fortress, salvation is only a matter of time. I ask you all to help me steady the hearts of the city’s folk—for if Liaodong falls, none of us will survive."

Outside the walls, the Sui army had also suffered grievous losses. Their daily assaults on the fortress made no progress, repelled each time by the defenders. That day, Yuwen Shu was summoned by imperial decree to report on the campaign. He removed his armor and weapons, exchanging his blood-stained robe for a clean one before entering.

"Yuwen, how many days more until Liaodong Fortress falls?" Emperor Yang Guang asked, displeasure clear in his tone.

"Your Majesty," Yuwen Shu replied, "Liaodong Fortress has ever been a key stronghold in the region, fortified by successive dynasties. Its walls are strong and its moat wide, and the defenders atop the ramparts are stubborn—thus our progress has been slow."

"But the remnants of Northern Qi behind us grow restless, raising banners in rebellion. We must bring this war to a swift conclusion." Emperor Yang Guang set aside his memorials. "I witnessed our Sui soldiers attacking the walls the other day—nine out of ten could not scale the ladders?"

Yuwen Shu nodded, "Indeed, Sui officers and men fight bravely. Even as they fall from the ladders, their courage does not falter."

Yang Guang nodded in turn. "I know this well. But how do you propose we breach the towering walls of Liaodong, Yuwen?"

Yuwen Shu shook his head. "I am foolish, Your Majesty. I have found no way. I beg Your Majesty to instruct me."

Yang Guang gazed through the window toward the distant fortress, then spoke slowly, "Mobilize the soldiers to dig earth from the western hill, fill it into cloth sacks, and pile them at the base of Liaodong’s walls—build a ramp, a Fishbeam Causeway, for the assault."

Yuwen Shu understood the emperor’s intent and breathed easier. No matter the casualties, following the imperial command would absolve him of any blame for failure. He returned to camp, ordered the troops to encircle Liaodong Fortress more tightly, stationed forces before Yuan Gai Suwen’s army as precaution, and sent the rest with picks and shovels to the western hill. There they dug earth, packed it into sacks, and piled it in camp, ready for the siege.

Within three days, tens of thousands of earth-filled sacks were prepared. Yuwen Shu calculated that this would suffice, and ordered the soldiers to prepare for another assault. As the drums thundered, Sui soldiers advanced in shielded formation—not with ladders this time, but with sacks of earth.

Braving the arrow storm from the walls, the Sui soldiers laid their sacks at the base. After four or five such trips, a ramp thirty paces wide began to take shape. Yuan Taizuo, watching from the tower, noticed the sacks and recalled reports of the Sui digging at the western hill days before. He realized their purpose, but could do nothing—the gates had long been sealed with giant stones for safety, making sorties impossible. Nor was it just a single ramp; seven or eight such ramps appeared along each wall face. Fire would not destroy them, and all he could do was watch helplessly. Yuan Taizuo tried sending men down at night in baskets to sabotage the ramps, but the Sui had anticipated this; volleys of arrows turned the soldiers into pincushions.

A day later, the Fishbeam Causeway stood, as tall as the walls and thirty paces wide. Masses of Sui soldiers, armed with heavy shields and short blades, charged up the ramp as the drums beat. Yuan Taizuo commanded his troops to block the ramp’s exit. The two armies met in fierce, close combat, and in an instant, the battle reached its fevered peak.