Chapter 21: A Siege Like Child’s Play

A group of men, emboldened by Li Gui’s promises, followed him eagerly as if injected with adrenaline, charging toward Panshan.

This time, Li Gui was clearly prepared for a tough battle and made no attempt to conceal his movements. He strode boldly down the center of the main road, heading straight for Panshan.

If this were a normal stronghold, they would have long since detected their approach. At the very least, the gates would be shut to resist them, or traps and ambushes set.

Yet, upon reaching the gates of Panshan, they found it just as oblivious as the former Sushan stronghold.

“Really overestimated these thieves!” Li Gui spat disdainfully before signaling his troops to halt and regroup on the spot.

Once his men were reorganized, harsh gongs suddenly echoed from inside the fortress.

After a short while, chaotic noises arose as the gates slowly closed, and a group appeared behind the low walls.

One man climbed a ladder, poked his head over the wall, and shouted:

“Are you brothers from Yushan Stronghold out there?”

“Our gates are tightly shut now. No sneaky attacks allowed. Best turn back to your own stronghold!”

“We have hundreds of able-bodied men inside. If we fight, both sides will suffer losses!”

“We’re all children of the rivers and lakes—let’s not ruin our harmony!”

Li Gui ignored the words, waving his hand sharply. “Attack!”

Though none of the thieves understood why their leader hadn’t seized the gates earlier and only assaulted after they were closed, the order was given, so they charged!

The drums thundered as the crowd surged forward, feet pounding the walls.

Li Gui sighed. “Sound the retreat gong quickly!”

The gong rang again.

Just as they rushed in, the gong sounded once more unexpectedly. Confused, the attackers turned around—and were ambushed by the defenders behind the wall.

“Ah! Watch out, he’s stabbing me with a bamboo spear!”

“Damn you! How dare you ambush us? I’ll cut you down!”

“If you’ve got guts, come out and fight! Hiding behind the wall’s no skill!”

Chaos erupted. After a while, the attackers retreated back from the wall.

Li Gui ordered them to regroup. When he looked again, several were wounded—seven or eight at least—but none critically. Some had their spears wrested away by the defenders and were left empty-handed.

“Damn bastards!” Li Gui cursed, pointing at them.

“Your training has gone straight to your dog’s belly!”

“Where’s your formation?”

“Where’s your formation?”

“You all rushed in like a rabid swarm, completely out of line—how do you expect to fight like this?”

“Try again!”

Li Gui feared this very thing: good training in calm times, but once on the battlefield, heads would heat up and instincts take over.

He trained his men aiming to match the prefectural troops of Yizhou—not this ragtag band of mountain bandits.

Mistakes now were forgivable, but if they charged like this against official troops, they’d be routed in a single blow.

Under Li Gui’s furious rebukes, the men reformed and stepped forward again to the steady drumbeats.

This time, they maintained their formation better, but as they reached the wall and began their assault, chaos returned.

Li Gui sighed and reluctantly called out: “Sound the retreat gong!”

The gong echoed again.

The front ranks wisely withdrew quickly, though several spears were lost, and two men were pierced by the enemy, clearly unable to continue.

Li Gui had those two unlucky souls pulled back and carefully bandaged. Then he turned back, raging anew:

“You fools!”

“Still no memory!”

“I told you to watch your formation, but all you did was watch your formation!”

“The thrust and recovery of your spear formation must be synchronized. Are your heads stuffed with dung?”

“Why didn’t your captains shout the orders?”

“If you make this kind of elementary mistake again, I’ll just cut you down and use you as a ball!”

Historically, the Emperor Yang of Sui sounded the retreat gong three times during his campaign against Goguryeo—and it led to his downfall.

Li Gui had done it twice so far, but thanks to these useless foes, he remained unharmed.

After all, these were mere bandits, clueless even about pursuing a retreating enemy in a coordinated chase.

Or perhaps they knew but lacked the courage.

Either way, this gave Li Gui a live battlefield exercise to train his troops on the spot.

By the third drumbeat, things improved markedly. The new recruits had grown familiar with the battlefield; their initial fervor had cooled, and they marched forward in tight ranks.

Upon reaching the wall, their captains shouted the command:

“Thrust!”

At once, every man raised his spear and plunged it simultaneously into the wall’s crevices.

Most missed, but many struck true.

Screams erupted from inside—the defenders trying to seize their spears.

They hadn’t expected not just a few but hundreds of spears thrusting together, leaving no place to hide.

“Recover!”

At the order, all drew back their spears instantly.

Those who pierced the enemy had blood dripping from their spear tips, vivid and unmistakable.

To these bachelors, this was no mere blood—it was honor, the promise of gold and silver rewards, and the allure of sweet brides.

Many shouted joyously:

“Hey! I hit one! I’ve got a wife now!”

The captain kicked one and growled, “Shut up! If you want your wife not to become a widow tomorrow, focus on taking this stronghold first!”

Galvanized by the sight of blood, the men pressed harder, repeatedly thrusting their spears into the walls at the captain’s command.

After three or five rounds, the bandits inside could no longer hold their ground. They retreated, moving away from the wall.

At this moment, the captain had a flash of inspiration and changed the command from “Thrust!” to “Kick!”

Simultaneously, the men raised their legs and struck the wall with heavy kicks, causing it to tremble.

“Kick again!”

After a few more strikes, the wall collapsed with a crash, revealing the panicked bandits behind it.

“March forward in step!” the captain shouted hoarsely.

At this point, his orders were ignored. Eager to claim glory, the men surged like a wild tide into the stronghold.

These men had seen blood before and showed no mercy when killing.

The bandits inside were terrified, dropping their weapons and fleeing.

Those who lagged behind were caught by pursuers and stabbed to death, becoming trophies of merit.

Even those who surrendered were stabbed to death before they could utter a word—also counted as achievements.

Li Gui pretended not to see such deeds.

Cutting off an enemy’s resources was like killing their own parents; to the soldiers, these were honors, rewards of gold and silver, and fragrant brides.

If you forbid them to kill, they might just turn around and kill you instead. What’s the point?