Sangji had five thousand men at Hat Mountain, so a few lucky ones always managed to escape.
After these survivors fled back, they claimed the Da Kang troops had been blessed by the Divine Light Immortal and possessed a treasure that could emit blinding white light.
When the white flash burst, many of Sangji’s men were struck blind.
Yet the Da Kang soldiers remained completely unaffected.
Danzhu had served under Gada for years and knew perfectly well that the so-called Divine Light Immortal was nothing more than a fiction invented by Gada’s father to deceive the common people.
Such tactics were common throughout history. Before raising rebellions, many leaders staged superstitious spectacles: Chen Sheng and Wu Guang hiding messages in fish bellies, Liu Bang slaying a white serpent.
All to convince the masses they were favoured by Heaven, that following them was to obey the Mandate.
Gada, Danzhu, and the rest of the high command knew full well there was no Divine Light Immortal.
A flashbang far exceeded the knowledge of this era; anyone who had never seen one could scarcely believe such a thing existed.
Therefore, when those first Tubo soldiers escaped back from Hat Mountain, Danzhu assumed they were lying to excuse their defeat.
To prevent them from spreading panic, he had them thrown into the stables and locked up.
Now that others were again reporting white light, Danzhu began to waver.
“Did you personally see the white light?” he asked his personal guard.
“This subordinate did not, but every brother on night watch or patrol claims they did,” the guard replied.
“Go fetch two of those who saw it. Also bring the men who escaped from Hat Mountain. And invite Master Wu here at once,” Danzhu ordered.
Once the guard left, Danzhu muttered to himself, “Could the Divine Light Immortal really exist?”
There was simply no other explanation for the white light.
Wu Zhe arrived first.
This time he truly had been dragged from his bed; he looked unwell, hair hanging loose, appearing even older than usual.
Danzhu owed his present position not only to birth but, more importantly, to his ability to recognise and employ talent.
Even though Wu Zhe had made several misjudgements the previous day, Danzhu still treated him with the same respect.
He stepped forward and cupped his hands in the Da Kang style. “Dragging you here in the middle of the night was truly wrong of me!”
“No matter,” Wu Zhe returned the courtesy and asked, “Has anything else happened?”
Danzhu quickly repeated what the guard had reported.
“Men escaped from Hat Mountain? How is it I was not informed?” Wu Zhe frowned.
“I thought they were lying and feared they would unsettle the army, so I had them confined,” Danzhu admitted frankly. “But now others have seen white light too. I am starting to think they may have told the truth.”
Wu Zhe was about to speak when the guard returned with a group of men.
“You were at Hat Mountain. Did you really see white light?” Wu Zhe asked one of the escapees first.
“We truly did!”
The soldier hurriedly recounted everything he had witnessed.
Wu Zhe then questioned the night-watch soldiers and received the same answers.
Once the guard led the soldiers away, Wu Zhe frowned. “The night watch has no reason to deceive the general. It seems the white light is real.”
“How can such a treasure exist in this world?” Danzhu exclaimed. “Has Jin Feng truly gained the protection of the Divine Light Immortal?”
“Rumour says Jin Feng excels at strange mechanisms and ingenious devices. In this old man’s view, it is not divine protection but some weapon Jin Feng has created.”
“What weapon can blind the enemy yet leave his own men unharmed?” Danzhu asked.
“This old man does not know,” Wu Zhe shook his head.
The flashbang lay far beyond both Danzhu’s and Wu Zhe’s understanding.
“It is said that Feng Sheng comes from the same place as Jin Chuan and is on good terms with you, sir. Has he never mentioned it?”
“No,” Wu Zhe shook his head again.
When Qing Mulan and Zhang Liang were suppressing bandits, they had used flashbangs, so Feng Sheng had heard of them.
However, having always been marginalised in Tubo, he harboured resentment and had only warned Wu Zhe to beware Jin Feng’s heavy crossbows and trebuchets, saying nothing at all about flashbangs.
Even if Wu Zhe asked later, Feng Sheng could simply claim ignorance.
Besides nursing a grudge, Feng Sheng had his own calculations.
He wanted Tubo and Da Kang to fight, but he did not want Danzhu to win.
Only if Danzhu suffered defeat through ignorance would Tubo finally value Feng Sheng’s knowledge.
Though Wu Zhe was also Han Chinese, he had left Da Kang too long ago and was now too old.
It was time he stepped aside.
And so, unwittingly, Wu Zhe had been thoroughly sabotaged by Master Feng.
“What do we do now, sir?” Danzhu asked.
“This old man has never encountered anything like it before…”
Even Wu Zhe was at a loss for a moment. After thinking, he said, “First, order the cavalry not to approach too close to Great Python Slope. If Da Kang troops come down to destroy the bonfires, drive the captives to repair them at once. We must ensure the enemy cannot approach our camp again.”
“At this point, we have no choice!” Danzhu said helplessly.
For the next few days, the Tubo camp knew no peace day or night.
Several times Danzhu nearly lost control and wanted to muster every man for an all-out assault on Great Python Slope, but Wu Zhe stopped him each time.
…
At the summit of Great Python Slope, Meng Tianhai watched Tubo soldiers forcing civilians to relight the bonfires. His face was full of bitterness.
These past days had been nerve-racking; he thought Jin Feng was courting death.
The Tubo army numbered over ten thousand, more than half cavalry.
Even counting the thousand escort guards Jin Feng had brought, their side had fewer than six thousand men.
If Danzhu truly attacked without regard for losses, they would surely be crushed.
Meng Tianhai himself would perish with them.
He had secretly sought out Jin Feng several times, urging him to keep a lower profile.
Jin Feng paid no attention and continued sending men to provoke the Tubo forces every day.
For some reason the Ninth Princess obeyed Jin Feng completely.
Having no other option, Meng Tianhai went to Qing Mulan, hoping she could persuade Jin Feng.
Instead, Qing Mulan was even more eager than Jin Feng. Not only did she refuse to help, she looked at Meng Tianhai with open contempt.
Now, seeing the Tubo soldiers relight the bonfires, she turned excitedly to Jin Feng. “Sir, shall we continue tonight?”
“Of course,” Jin Feng replied. “The most important part of an exhaustion strategy is persistence. Only then can we achieve our goal.”
“But Danzhu looks ready to explode. What if he really charges us regardless of cost?” Qing Mulan asked. Her words sounded worried, yet her face showed only showed anticipation for a good show.
Having known Jin Feng for so long, Qing Mulan understood him well.
Though she did not know why he was deliberately provoking the enemy, she trusted he would never place her or the Ninth Princess in real danger.
“Would he dare?” Jin Feng said indifferently. “If he dared, he would have surrounded Great Python Slope long ago.”
“Even so, we cannot keep this up forever,” Qing Mulan continued. “Yesterday I saw them carry many more bodies to the pit north of their camp.”
The Ninth Princess, who had been calm until then, flashed anger in her eyes at these words.
North of the Tubo camp lay a pit where those who starved, fell ill, or were tortured to death were thrown without burial.
These past days the princess had more than once seen wild animals through her telescope prowling in that pit.
“It will not be much longer.”
Jin Feng gazed into the night, his voice growing low, as if answering Qing Mulan and also speaking to himself.
