Chapter 109: The Battle of Xiaopei

“Oh? Where did these warhorses come from?”

Liu Bei was greatly surprised. Horses were precious strategic resources; for them to appear near Xiaopei, there could be only one explanation: they had been purchased by local lords from the north.

Sure enough, Zhang Fei immediately said, “They were seized from that scoundrel Lü Bu.”

“Really?”

Liu Bei was overjoyed and asked, “How many horses are there?”

“One hundred and fifty,” Zhang Fei replied.

“Hm, not many, but enough,” Liu Bei nodded thoughtfully.

“Brother, shall we try out the horses?” Zhang Fei asked.

“Not yet,” Liu Bei said after some consideration. “For now, keep this news secret. We must train cavalry in secret. Otherwise, Lü Bu will attack soon, and even these 150 horses won’t be of much use.”

Zhang Fei patted his chest confidently. “Don’t worry, Brother. Leave everything to me.”

“Very well,” Liu Bei agreed cheerfully.

This year had gone relatively well for him. Shen Chen had provided him with funds and armor, and now he had acquired a number of warhorses, strengthening his forces considerably.

In the later historical novel *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, this episode is depicted as Liu Bei fiercely reprimanding Zhang Fei for stealing the horses from Lü Bu. Zhang Fei refuses to return them, leading to the famous duel between Zhang Fei and Lü Bu that lasted a hundred rounds without a decisive winner.

But in truth, Liu Bei was a man of strong resolve. The character of Zhang Fei in the novel actually embodied Liu Bei’s true temperament in history. It was impossible for Liu Bei to be so naive and upright as portrayed.

Lü Bu had been treacherous from the start. Though Liu Bei had kindly taken him in, Lü Bu promptly stole his homeland and sent Yang Feng and others to plunder his military supplies. For this ungrateful traitor, Liu Bei bore a deep hatred and would never have been angry merely because Zhang Fei seized some horses.

However, Liu Bei’s forces were indeed in poor shape at the time.

According to the *Records of the Three Kingdoms* and the *Book of Later Han*, Lü Bu and Liu Bei fought fiercely in Xuzhou. Lü Bu brought about ten thousand troops from Yanzhou to Xuzhou, and Liu Bei’s nominal strength was also around ten thousand.

Yet his subordinates Cao Bao and Xu Dan were turncoats, and without the Danyang soldiers left by Tao Qian, Liu Bei was isolated. His true strength was only a few thousand, and he was defeated by Lü Bu.

After reaching Guangling, Liu Bei gained the support of Mi Zhu, whose wealthy household had over ten thousand servants. With Mi Zhu’s help, Liu Bei not only stopped his decline but gathered over ten thousand men, appearing much stronger than before.

However, much of this force was composed of Mi Zhu’s servants, and elite veterans were few. Thus, in battles with Lü Bu, Liu Bei was often at a disadvantage.

Lü Bu himself was not in a much better position. Deprived of support from the influential families of Xuzhou, his army suffered heavy attrition with no reinforcements. By 197 AD, during clashes with Yuan Shu, he was reduced to only three or four thousand troops and a few hundred cavalry.

Unexpectedly, Yuan Shu sent reinforcements under the general Zhang Xun with tens of thousands of troops to attack Lü Bu, but Lü Bu crushed them, capturing many soldiers and swelling his ranks back to around twenty thousand.

Therefore, despite holding the title of Governor of Yuzhou, Liu Bei was still considerably weaker than Lü Bu.

At the beginning of Jian’an’s third year, Lü Bu learned that Liu Bei had stolen his warhorses and was furious. He gathered ten thousand men and personally led generals Gao Shun and Zhang Liao to Xiaopei.

February 4th, spring, Pei State, Yuzhou, Xiaopei County.

The area within a hundred miles was sparsely populated. To the north, the Si River flowed diagonally from northwest to southeast. To the south, the Feng River lay between the Si River and the Bian River. Xiaopei was nestled in the wedge formed by these two rivers.

Only to the west stretched a boundless plain.

Strictly speaking, this city lay in the northeastern corner of Yuzhou, at the eastern edge of Yingchuan, southeast of Yanzhou, serving as the southeastern barrier of Cao Cao’s territory.

It appeared to be a strategic stronghold—easy to defend, difficult to attack.

But one had to consider the climatic conditions.

The late Han period coincided with the Little Ice Age.

Later generations might not grasp how harsh the Little Ice Age truly was.

To put it simply:

In the summer of 2022, many regions in China experienced temperatures above 40 degrees Celsius for extended periods. Yet this was not the Little Ice Age, merely a symptom of the greenhouse effect.

During the Little Ice Age, summer temperatures in the south often exceeded 40 degrees Celsius, and even the northeast frequently remained above 30 degrees.

In winter, northern Hebei averaged below minus 40 degrees Celsius, while southern provinces like Guangdong and Fujian saw heavy snow with average temperatures below minus 10 degrees. All rivers and lakes froze solid.

This illustrates the severity of the disaster caused by the Little Ice Age.

In the late Han, the previous winter saw large lakes like Poyang, Tai, and Chao in Jiangdong almost entirely frozen. Only the Yunmeng Marsh in Jingzhou, covering about ten thousand square kilometers, remained unfrozen.

In summer, the extreme heat could be deadly. For example, the previous summer's drought caused severe famine in the water-rich Huainan region, drastically weakening Yuan Shu’s forces.

Thus, although Xiaopei lay between two rivers, the Feng River was nearly dry due to climatic changes, and the Si River still had some water. Crossing on foot required no wading, with some parts reduced to puddles revealing sandy riverbeds.

At this moment, Liu Bei stood atop the city tower, watching Lü Bu’s dense army slowly crossing the dry riverbed of the Feng.

He did not send men to attack during the crossing. While it is said that striking an enemy midstream is advantageous, here they were walking across a dry riverbed, making it no different from flat ground. Attacking mid-crossing held no tactical value; defending the city was better.

Yet...

Looking at the dilapidated walls of Xiaopei, Liu Bei sighed deeply.

Pei County held significance for him. His ancestor, Liu Bang, had once served as the magistrate of Sishui Pavilion, just east of Xiaopei.

Liu Bang was not from Pei County but from Fengyi, about forty kilometers away, which was then a small town under Pei’s jurisdiction. By the Eastern Han, Fengyi had been promoted to Feng County, administratively separate from Liu Bang’s origins.

Still, the Sishui Pavilion was just outside the city. It was where Liu Bang began his rise, met men like Fan Kuai, Xiao He, Cao Can, and Xiahou Ying, led the uprising from Pei County, and ultimately founded the Han dynasty.

For these reasons, Liu Bei felt a deep connection to the place. Unfortunately, he lacked the resources and strength to repair the battered city, leaving its defenses barely adequate.

In the distance, Lü Bu’s forces drew ever closer. Their numbers stretched endlessly, and under the stern orders of their officers, they slowly approached the southern side of Xiaopei.

About a mile from the city, they began to organize their troops.

Among them was a middle-aged general, over forty years old, standing nine feet tall, with a face as handsome as jade. He wielded a long halberd and rode a magnificent steed, clad in armor, radiating an unspoken authority. This was Lü Bu, the fiercest warrior of the Three Kingdoms.

Mounted on the legendary Red Hare, with hundreds of cavalry at his side, he galloped to a small hill west of Xiaopei, staring icily at Liu Bei’s forces atop the city walls.

“How dare Liu Bei steal my horses?”

“Charge!”

Almost immediately after the Lü Bu army formed ranks, he ordered the attack.

There was no preamble, no dialogue between Liu Bei on the walls and Lü Bu below.

Firstly, the two were mortal enemies; Lü Bu had twice launched offensives to seize Xuzhou and scatter Liu Bei’s forces, making reconciliation impossible.

Secondly, no sane commander would foolishly expose himself beneath the enemy’s city walls. Even Lü Bu was not invincible; a volley from hundreds of archers would turn such a reckless act into a death trap.

Therefore, in war, neither side gave warnings. Like hunters in a dark forest, the first to spot the enemy struck first.

The long, mournful blast of horns echoed.

Before the lines stood a thin-faced general commanding eight hundred soldiers clad in black armor, standing motionless like statues, eyes fierce and battle-hardened. These were Lü Bu’s elite heavy infantry—the formidable Xiànzhèn Camp.

Heavy infantry could not assault city walls directly; currently, Gao Shun was serving as temporary commander.

Gao Shun was a talented general, and if not for serving Lü Bu, he might have achieved even greater fame under Cao Cao, Liu Bei, or Sun Quan—perhaps rivaling Zhang Liao or Guan Yu.

The Xiànzhèn Camp was just one aspect of his skill.

His real strength lay in battlefield command. When Lü Bu’s subordinate Hao Meng rebelled the previous year, Gao Shun led a midnight assault, executing Hao Meng and quelling the rebellion by dawn.

Sadly, Lü Bu distrusted him, confiscating his military authority and the Xiànzhèn Camp during peacetime, entrusting command to his confidant Wei Xu. Gao Shun only regained command during battle, and even then, Lü Bu watched him closely.

Despite this, Gao Shun remained loyal without resentment.

As the horns sounded, Gao Shun waved his hand, and messengers quickly relayed his orders to prepare for attack.

At his sides, about a thousand soldiers began moving, carrying ladders, marching in formation toward Xiaopei.

Nestled between two rivers, Xiaopei had a protective moat filled with water sourced from the Si River, which still flowed enough to fill the moat.

This moat had historically allowed Liu Bei to hold Xiaopei for nearly a year—from early 198 AD until autumn, when Gao Shun and Zhang Liao finally breached the city.

Gao Shun’s priority was the moat. These soldiers were not direct assailants but carried large planks to bridge the moat for the army to cross.

Within a bowshot’s distance, the troops sprinted forward, raising shields as they neared the city.

On the tower, Liu Bei observed with Taishi Ci. Lü Bu’s forces outnumbered them; since their defeat at Xiaopei, they had only two or three thousand troops from Cao Cao and a thousand or two of old retainers. The enemy surrounded the city, so Zhang Fei guarded the north gate, Guan Yu the west, and Liu Bei stood with Taishi Ci at the south gate.

Seeing the enemy rush forward with raised shields, Liu Bei did not immediately order an arrow volley. Arrows were precious and scarce; he had to conserve them.

Instead, Taishi Ci bent his bow and released a sudden arrow. It sliced through the air like a shooting star, chilling and silent, striking a soldier’s neck.

“Well done!” Liu Bei shouted praise.

Unlike with Liu Yao, who had once treated Taishi Ci disdainfully, only appointing him a scout leader, Liu Bei recognized his prowess. Taishi Ci had once broken through tens of thousands of Yellow Turbans alone, unstoppable in battle. After joining Liu Bei, he was made commander of the personal guards.

Over the past two years of hardship and wandering, he had risen to become Marquis of Qujun.

Though only a marquis, he ranked just below Guan Yu and Zhang Fei among Liu Bei’s generals. Liu Bei’s forces were so few that although, as Governor of Yuzhou, he could appoint Guan Yu as a Middle-ranking General, without sufficient troops, such titles were meaningless.

So far, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei commanded about a thousand men each, Taishi Ci had five hundred, and Liu Bei personally led about fifteen hundred—roughly four thousand men in total.

For a high-ranking governor, this was pitifully little.

Yet there was no alternative; beyond his title and imperial lineage, Liu Bei had little else.

Taishi Ci’s arrow bolstered the defenders’ morale; cheers erupted, confusing the attackers and momentarily halting their advance.

Gao Shun immediately ordered the war drums.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The drumbeats thundered, and officers shouted at their troops to press forward.

Soon, they reached the city base and began laying down the moat bridges.

These were not ladders but large planks for crossing.

Liu Bei shouted, “Smash them!”

“Smash!”

At his command, stones and logs rained down.

Lü Bu’s soldiers carried small round shields protecting only their upper bodies—vulnerable to arrows.

But surrounded, arrows were finite while rocks and logs could be sourced from city ruins or nearby rivers.

Thus, using rocks and logs first was the best tactic.

Countless heavy objects crashed down, shattering the bridges. Many attackers fell into the moat, dead or wounded—nearly a hundred in moments.

Some soldiers instinctively looked back, hoping for a retreat signal, but Gao Shun gave none. They pressed on, rebuilding bridges and enduring heavy losses.

This grueling cycle lasted nearly half an hour. When Liu Bei saw the enemy’s bridges were nearly exhausted, he roared, “Open the gates! Charge out!”

“Charge!”

Taishi Ci was the first to respond.

“Charge!”

“The gates open!”

“Break through!”

Shouts echoed loudly. Soldiers atop the tower beat war cries.

At the city base, Liu Bei’s troops had long prepared. Upon order, the gates swung open immediately.

Liu Bei chose open battle because supplies were low; arrows, stones, and logs were limited and had to be rationed.

Seeing the enemy’s shortage of bridges, he seized the moment to sally forth.

The gates opened, and both sides quickly engaged in close combat.

Taishi Ci dismounted; the space between the city and moat was less than ten meters—too narrow for horses.

He plunged into the fray, cutting down two foes in moments.

The drums continued beating. Gao Shun noticed that despite many destroyed bridges, the enemy might still succeed, so he sent two units to probe the defenses.

But he soon realized it was futile. The narrow terrain caused congestion; reinforcements caused chaos, and many soldiers drowned or were slain—a costly tactic.

After some thought, Gao Shun decided to attack from the flank, ordering the remaining bridges deployed to breach the southeastern corner.

Liu Bei, skilled in small-scale warfare, noticed this and personally led troops to the southeast wall, using rocks, logs, and a few arrows to repel the assault.

The battlefield echoed with horn blasts, war drums, battle cries, clashing weapons, and the groans of men struck down.

“Right wall! Deploy twenty archers to suppress! Hurry!”

At Liu Bei’s command, archers rushed to plug gaps.

Outside the city, across the moat, Lü Bu’s soldiers swarmed, laying bridges that filled the riverbed, pressing forward.

Gao Shun had archers but couldn’t use them effectively; shooting risked hitting their own men due to the close quarters and height disadvantage.

The battle raged for over an hour. Near the gates lay corpses everywhere; countless soldiers drowned in the moat.

Only in the afternoon, under the blazing sun, did Gao Shun order retreat.

The ringing of horns echoed across the battlefield as Lü Bu’s troops withdrew, relieved but still suffering losses from Liu Bei’s pursuit.

Liu Bei’s forces destroyed the remaining bridges and retreated inside. Soldiers were exhausted, some covered in blood, others gravely wounded or already dead.

Taishi Ci was a bloodied figure, his body from head to toe stained and soaked in crimson—some dried to black, others still wet and gleaming in the sun.

Yet he was uninjured.

Liu Bei, however, bore a wound. During the fiercest fighting, he had personally led a charge. Thanks to Shen Chen’s chainmail, he was unharmed, but someone had struck him from behind. The blade hit the armor, causing no cut but a painful blow to his chest.

Taishi Ci helped him back.

Once inside, the wounded were carried off for treatment; the uninjured rested beneath the walls, catching their breath.

Liu Bei and Taishi Ci struggled to the tower, watching Lü Bu’s forces retreat to camp a few miles west, clearly preparing for a prolonged siege.

The golden afternoon sunlight bathed Xiaopei warmly.

In this moment, the two men shared the relief of survival, the triumph of repelling a fierce enemy, and most importantly, the cautious knowledge that the foe would return.

They knew well:

The enemy would not relent. Sooner or later, they would come again.

---

“Brother Shen!”

“Hmm!”

Shen Changqing walked along the road. Passing acquaintances nodded or greeted each other.

But no one showed any expression; all faces were indifferent, as if nothing mattered.

To Shen Changqing, this was normal.

This was the Demon Suppression Bureau, an institution maintaining stability in the Great Qin. Its main duty was to slay demons and monsters, though it had other side roles.

In the Bureau, every person’s hands were stained with much blood.

When one grows accustomed to life and death, many things become indifferent.

At first, Shen Changqing found it hard to adapt to this world, but over time, he grew used to it.

The Bureau was vast.

Only the powerful or those with potential to become powerful could remain here.

Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

The Bureau was divided into two roles: Guardian Envoys and Demon Slayers.

Everyone joined as a low-ranking Demon Slayer, slowly rising with hopes of becoming a Guardian Envoy.

Shen Changqing’s former self had been a trainee Demon Slayer, the lowest rank.

With the memories of his past life, he was very familiar with the Bureau’s environment.

After a short while, he stopped before a pavilion.

Unlike the rest of the grim, blood-soaked Bureau, this pavilion stood out serenely, a peaceful oasis amid the carnage.

The doors were open, with occasional comings and goings.

Shen Changqing hesitated briefly before stepping inside.

Upon entering, the atmosphere changed instantly.

A scent of ink mingled with faint blood assaulted his sensesI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.