The sky was vast, the wilderness endless, and the wind blew the grass low, revealing cattle and sheep.
Well, this was Liu Yuan's illusion.
This place was a grass pavilion near Ye City, a place for welcoming and sending off guests, not an endless grassland.
But he had indeed thought a lot, his thoughts long returning to the boundless sea of grass where he had galloped on horseback in his youth.
There was the rough northern wind.
There were the pure white flocks of sheep.
There were the galloping steeds.
There was the girl he had once liked in his early years...
Decades had passed since then, and his temples had turned white.
Life was unpredictable.
His wife had long passed away, and his children had grown up.
And he, inevitably, had stepped into the twilight of his life.
"Can't see through, can't see through!" Liu Yuan chuckled bitterly.
He didn't understand why, at this age, he had to return to the grasslands to stir up trouble.
When Huyan You first arrived, he wasn't very enthusiastic.
Later, when the Crown Prince's younger brother wouldn't let him leave and ordered him to continue participating in military affairs in the shogunate, he reluctantly agreed without any dissatisfaction.
But he didn't expect that within a few months, ambition would gradually grow, eventually becoming uncontrollable.
Huyan You once told him something, a message from the Right Virtuous King Liu Xuan (Liu Yuan's uncle): "The Left Virtuous King (Liu Yuan) is exceptionally brave and talented. If Heaven does not wish to revive the Xiongnu, it would not have created such a person. Now, the Sima clan is tearing itself apart, the world is in chaos, and it is time to revive the legacy of Huhanxie!"
These words seemed to strike Liu Yuan's heart, leaving him dazed for a long time.
During these days, whenever Liu Yuan tossed and turned, unable to sleep, he would carefully ponder these words.
Emotionally, he wholeheartedly agreed.
Rationally, he found it meaningless.
The Xiongnu had long been scattered and broken.
What was the point of reviving Huhanxie's legacy?
The education he had received over the years told him to give up.
At this age, with one foot already in the grave, why should he join these ambitious troublemakers?
Did they truly submit to him from the bottom of their hearts?
After being away from home for so many years, how many of his old friends and acquaintances in the tribe were still alive?
Those people, with their crude language, lack of integrity, and no morals—were they really his kind?
Staying with beasts would make a person cruel, and this did not align with the principles he had lived by for most of his life.
Thus, Liu Yuan's heart was torn, his thoughts in constant conflict, causing him immense suffering.
Until Sima Ying made the decision for him, and everything was resolved!
Before leaving, Liu Yuan took one last look at the scenery outside Ye City.
The fields were vast, the rivers intertwined.
The millet and sorghum grew lush, and the flowing water carried a mournful sound.
Farewell, Ye City.
The Liu Yuanhai of the past was probably dead forever...
After mounting his horse, he did not look back.
Surrounded by guests and servants, he rode westward, speeding along, and reached Zuogu City in just over ten days.
At the end of September, the Right Virtuous King Liu Xuan and others paid homage to Liu Yuan as the Great Chanyu.
They then moved to Lishi to gather their forces and established it as their capital.
Although they had not yet formally declared a state, the rise of the Xiongnu forces was already unstoppable.
In the early days of establishment, there were countless tasks, complex and overwhelming, leaving Liu Yuan exhausted.
Occasionally, when he had some free time, he considered hiring scholars from the Central Plains to help, but few responded.
When scholars didn't work, he thought of recruiting soldiers.
At this moment, a figure appeared in his mind.
It was a bright March day, the banks of the Qili River lush and green, the water flowing gently.
A brave young man, riding alone, charged into the enemy formation, capturing a commander and returning.
The Central Plains had so many talents.
The brave young man who had received his fine bow—what was he busy with now...
Shao Xun was busy trading insults with Zhang Fang.
This cannibalistic demon spent half a month traveling over a hundred miles, cutting down trees, and then building siege equipment.
By the time everything was ready, it was already late September.
Faced with the narrow and cramped terrain outside Luoyang, the Western Army was furious.
They set fires, demolished houses, and tried every trick, finally clearing a space in the north of the city that could barely accommodate three thousand men.
The siege began, but it didn't go smoothly.
You gave Mi Huang and Shao Xun half a month—they wouldn't just sit idle.
At the very least, the morale of the troops had somewhat stabilized.
Wang Yan, with his silver tongue, "borrowed" three thousand men from the gentry and merchants, organized them into units, and rigorously trained them.
Thus, Luoyang gained another mobile force.
The city seemed increasingly impregnable.
"Zhang Fang, the pot is ready, just waiting for you to clean yourself up," Chen Yougen shouted from the city wall.
After he finished, ten specially selected loud-voiced soldiers repeated his words.
The sound carried far, and the defenders on the wall burst into laughter.
The Western Army, upon hearing this, looked uneasy.
They might eat human flesh, but that didn't mean they thought it was right.
Being publicly mocked by the defenders left them disheartened, their morale dipping.
"Shao Xun, why are you hiding in your shell like a woman? Come out and fight me!" Zhang Fang's son, Zhang Pi, rode a magnificent warhorse, galloping past the battlefield.
After Zhang Pi rode by, several of his personal guards came forward, taking turns to provoke.
Shao Xun laughed, drew his bow, and shot down two enemy riders in quick succession, scaring Zhang Pi into galloping away.
The city wall erupted in cheers.
In the Western Army camp, Zhang Fang stood on a high platform, watching from afar.
The siege had begun.
Drummers stripped off their shirts, baring their chests, and beat the war drums fiercely.
Over two thousand infantrymen pushed siege ladders, crossed the filled moat, and charged straight at the towering walls of Luoyang.
As soon as they got close, a rain of arrows fell from the city walls.
Some soldiers hid inside the siege ladders.
Others raised large shields, providing cover.
But the arrows were too dense.
Men in the advancing ranks kept falling, their dying cries heart-wrenching.
When they reached the base of the city wall, stones, boiling water, oil, and molten metal poured down from above.
No matter how brave you were, no matter how many layers of armor you wore, being doused with boiling metal would make you writhe in agony.
Such injuries were no different from death, perhaps even more painful.
Zhang Fang's expression remained unchanged.
War inevitably brought death.
His heart had long hardened, and no amount of casualties would move him.
What he cared about was whether this siege was effective.
From the looks of it, it wasn't going well.
"They've reached the top of the wall!" a personal guard exclaimed.
Zhang Fang's spirits lifted, and he focused intently.
The first wave to reach the top numbered only about twenty men.
They were rare warriors in the army, clad in heavy armor, with incredible strength and unmatched bravery.
Ordinary men would hardly dare to breathe in their presence.
"Perhaps they might..."
A glimmer of hope rose in Zhang Fang's heart.
But that hope quickly turned to disappointment as a dense volley of crossbow bolts flew from the city wall, knocking the newly ascended warriors to the ground before they could steady themselves.
Cries of grief rose from below the wall.
Soldiers, ignoring the arrows and stones, rushed forward to retrieve the bodies.
Clearly, these were the personal troops of a fallen master, desperate to recover the body, or they would have no way to explain themselves.
"Sigh!" A series of sighs echoed around.
Zhang Fang didn't want to watch anymore and descended from the high platform.
His personal guards exchanged glances and followed.
"How many days of rations do we have left in the camp?" Zhang Fang grabbed the quartermaster and demanded.
The quartermaster, frightened, swallowed hard and stammered, "We can last another half month."
"Didn't you send anyone out to forage?"
"We've been doing our best to gather supplies, or we would have run out already."
"Useless! If you can't find more food, you'll be the next in the pot!" Zhang Fang kicked the quartermaster over in anger.
The quartermaster scrambled away.
Zhang Fang drew his sword and hacked at a wooden pillar.
He had never had enough supplies when leading troops, always having to find ways to gather them locally, which led to many horrifying incidents.
The supply issue wasn't fatal.
What was truly fatal was the situation in Hebei.
The combined forces of Bingzhou and Youzhou numbered over a hundred thousand, a formidable force, while the Prince of Chengdu had less than twenty thousand troops.
Zhang Fang could even boldly say that Ye City was basically finished, unlikely to last beyond next month.
And once the Prince of Chengdu fell, where would that leave the Prince of Hejian? Where would that leave him, Zhang Fang?
Sima Yue wasn't dead.
He had fled to Xuzhou and had the leisure to issue proclamations, calling on the various lords to join him in attacking the Princes of Chengdu and Hejian.
With such a massive force, could the Prince of Hejian really hold out?
Even if the Prince of Hejian could hold out, what about him, Zhang Fang?
With over twenty thousand troops bogged down outside Luoyang, exhausted and worn out, waiting for the armies from all over to gather and annihilate them?
Zhang Fang was already considering leaving.
Today's probe showed that the enemy's strength was average, but with the advantage of defending the city, they could still repel his elite troops.
In that case, there was no need to try further.
This battle was unwinnable.
His well-trained elite troops, his brave and fierce heavy-armored warriors, easily killed by boiling metal and water—was it worth it?
Better to leave.
Zhang Fang's gaze turned north.
Before leaving, he would take something with him.
He called his son Zhang Pi and gave him secret instructions.
(End of Chapter)