Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Death of Xuan Ting

Yang Xuangan’s words left Wei Xuan reeling in disbelief. Wei Xuan had spent years navigating court intrigues, but he had never been subjected to such a barrage of street insults. His jaw clenched in fury, he wanted nothing more than to strangle Yang Xuangan on the spot.

Gritting his teeth, Wei Xuan spat, “Fine, fine, Yang Xuangan. Out of respect for our former camaraderie, I tried to reason with you. But since you insist on your own way, don’t blame me for forgetting old ties.” With a wave to the messenger behind him, he signaled the troops to attack.

Having served at court for years, Yang Xuangan was well-versed in the Sui army’s signals. Seeing that Wei Xuan’s forces had been goaded into advancing, he called out to his men, “Boys, fall back to camp with me. Let that impotent old cur come and offer up his own head!”

His soldiers obeyed, beginning a measured retreat. Even as Yang Xuangan’s men withdrew, Wei Xuan could not resist shouting insults, growing even more incensed. He ordered his troops to accelerate the pursuit, hoping to capture Yang Xuangan alive so he could personally carve him apart.

As he saw Wei Xuan’s men quicken their pace, Yang Xuangan shouted again, “Brothers, run! Follow me back to camp. If you’re too slow, you’ll never see your lovely wives again.”

At first, Wei Xuan’s army managed to maintain formation as they gave chase. But soon, some fell behind from exhaustion, some clung to the formation and lagged in the middle, while others, lured by promises of reward, surged ahead. By the time they reached the site where Yang Xuanting’s ambush awaited, their ranks were hopelessly scattered.

Yang Xuangan saw the disorder in his enemy’s lines, with Wei Xuan cursing and swearing as he chased from behind. As they reached the place where his cousin’s troops lay in wait, Yang Xuangan halted his forces. “Men, form up! Turn with me and let us cut down that noisy old hound!”

Wei Xuan, noticing the sudden halt and formation of Yang Xuangan’s troops, sensed danger at last. He realized they had entered a region of hills, thick with forests, where shadowy figures flickered among the trees. Alarmed, he tried to halt his forces and regroup.

But moving a great army is like a landslide; it cannot be stopped at a word. Helpless, Wei Xuan could only press forward with the tide. Suddenly, the sound of gongs erupted from the forest on both flanks, and a hail of arrows rained down. The unsuspecting troops fell in droves.

With the flanks under attack, the army’s formation collapsed. Some rushed forward into the woods to hunt down the archers, others tried to retreat from the dangerous ground, while many sought shelter deeper within their own ranks.

Chaos reigned—shouts, neighing horses, and confusion like a marketplace. Wei Xuan’s head throbbed with the uproar, but there was nothing he could do except try to rally his panicked men.

Yang Xuanting had planned to unleash a single volley and then close for hand-to-hand combat. But seeing the Sui troops thrown into even greater disarray, he was overjoyed and ordered his soldiers to loose every arrow before stopping.

Gradually, Wei Xuan’s army regained some order, but thousands already lay dead or wounded.

Yang Xuangan saw that his enemy was beginning to reform ranks and knew he could not delay. If the Sui finished regrouping, the best chance to rout them would be lost. He immediately ordered his army to attack.

The rebel troops surged forward with Yang Xuangan at the fore, charging into the yet-unformed Sui ranks. Wielding his spear, he swept through the enemy, felling dozens—none could stand against him, and all who met his spear perished or were maimed.

Yang Xuanting, seeing his cousin deep in the fray but knowing their numbers were still too few, watched as the Sui began to recover and inflict heavier losses. He chose not to remain concealed and led his men out of the woods, striking the Sui flank.

Wei Xuan’s troops, only just regaining composure, were thrown into new disarray by the flank attack. Wei Xuan tried once more to regroup his men, but now it was harder than ever, especially with the rebels led by Yang Xuangan pressing relentlessly from the front, their momentum unstoppable and closing fast upon him.

At this point, Wei Xuan abandoned any pretense of heroism, withdrew from the melee with his personal guard, and then gave the order to retreat. His men had already reached the breaking point, but fear of Wei Xuan’s wrath had kept them fighting. Now, with the order given, they did not hesitate—they turned and fled.

Yang Xuangan and Yang Xuanting united their forces and pursued the Sui for miles before finally withdrawing to camp. This battle shattered Wei Xuan’s troops’ confidence. When he retreated to Jiejian, barely twenty thousand remained at his side. Fortunately, thirty thousand more had yet to cross the river, allowing him to muster a force of over fifty thousand.

Yang Xuangan and Yang Xuanting had outwitted Wei Xuan’s forces with a feigned retreat and ambush. Meanwhile, Li Zixiong and Li Mi secretly transferred all rebel troops besieging the eastern capital to Yang Xuangan’s western camp, leaving only a thousand men to maintain appearances before the city.

With nearly his entire force under his command, Yang Xuangan felt emboldened. He began arranging his troops, determined to eliminate Wei Xuan’s army—the last obstacle to entering Hangu Pass.

Since the siege of the eastern capital began, his army had grown from the ten thousand conscripted laborers who set out from Liyang to a force of over fifty thousand. The repeated defeats of the Sui had provided him with ample supplies and weapons; otherwise, at least half his men would still be fighting barehanded, unable to be as well-equipped as they now were.

Yang Xuangan ordered Li Zixiong and Li Mi to organize supplies and prepare for a rapid march. He instructed Yang Jishan to take troops south to Jiejian to seize the ferries. Then, learning that Wei Xuan, badly mauled, was camped beneath Mount Beimang, ready for a last desperate battle, he ordered Yang Xuanting to lead forces down from the mountain to strike the Sui camp from above, while he led the main force in a direct assault.

Wei Xuan saw Yang Xuangan’s forces advancing from multiple directions and lost his nerve. Following his advisors’ counsel, he dispatched thirty thousand infantry to fight outside the camp, and sent cavalry to attack Yang Xuangan from another direction.

At that moment, Yang Xuanting reached the mountaintop and, seeing that most of Wei Xuan’s men had left the camp, unfurled his banners and attacked the camp itself. Wei Xuan had pitched his camp with his back to Mount Beimang, but had left it undefended against attacks from above. Panic swept through his ranks, and ignoring his advisors’ pleas, he recalled the infantry to defend the camp.

The infantry returned, but the cavalry were already too deeply engaged to withdraw. Beset by Yang Xuanting’s assault, Wei Xuan could scarcely defend himself, let alone concern himself with the fate of the cavalry outside.

Yang Xuangan annihilated Wei Xuan’s cavalry, capturing a vast number of horses and rejoicing in his victory—until the terrible news arrived: his cousin, Yang Xuanting, had been struck by a stray arrow and killed.