Chapter 97: Failure at the Last Step

Meng Da leaned weakly against the city wall, his throat parched as if on fire. He lowered his head, rolling his eyes, and looked at the Chinese character hovering in the sky atop the distant hill, a helpless, bitter smile spreading across his face. The suddenly appeared reinforcements had once briefly lifted the spirits, but what followed was a truly grueling battle. Sima Yi seemed mad, launching relentless attacks for two days and nights. Fangling was on the brink of collapse several times. With no other choice, Meng Da sent someone to raise the Twin Rabbit battle banner on the hilltop to request aid. Whether it was because the distance was too great, the enemy could not see clearly, or they simply refused to help, no reinforcements appeared on that hilltop—only the character floated day and night in the air.

Morale had risen quickly but fell just as fast. Without any sign of reinforcements, those inside the city fell back into desperation. Under Sima Yi’s reckless assaults, they were barely holding on. Meng Da could already sense the dangerous undercurrents concealed by the atmosphere of despair. Though he did not know exactly where the threat came from, he could feel it.

He had betrayed his former lord multiple times—how could he not perceive the looming danger of betrayal from his own men?

Yet, for this danger that had not yet fully erupted, he could only be on guard in advance but could not strike first. Killing without solid evidence would only stir more fear and hasten his own downfall.

Gazing at the character “Han,” a bitter taste filled Meng Da’s mouth. He believed this was the bitter wine he had brewed and could only drink himself. Whether or not true reinforcements existed on the other side, he was sure he would never see them. He knew his own deeds more clearly than anyone else and would never hope to keep them hidden from Zhuge Liang. He knew Zhuge Liang well—from their first meeting in the sixteenth year of Jian’an to now, eighteen years later—their mutual understanding far surpassed that of ordinary men.

Thus, Meng Da harbored no illusions of truly returning to Shu Han, just as Zhuge Liang never truly expected him to return either. This was an unspoken understanding. Mutual exploitation was the norm in officialdom.

But now, it seemed Meng Da was going to lose. Sima Yi had come swiftly and attacked mercilessly, vowing not to rest until Fangling fell. His troops were unsettled, no reinforcements could be counted on, and besides fighting to the death, all Meng Da could do was await destruction.

He believed Sima Yi would no longer offer him a chance to surrender. When he had defected to Cao Wei and visited Emperor Cao Pi in Luoyang, Sima Yi had suggested detaining him there rather than letting him return to Xincheng. Now, with Emperor Cao Pi dead and Xiahou Shang gone, Sima Yi had the perfect excuse to eliminate him completely.

“Heaven, my fate is sealed,” Meng Da looked toward the towering Qinling Mountains, suddenly overcome with sorrow. After wandering thousands of miles, he would never see his hometown again.

…

In the Wei army’s central command tent, Sima Yi sat silently behind the table, propping his chin with one hand, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Hu Zun kneeling before him. Hu Zun had been ordered to defend Mulan Pass but was caught off guard when a Shu Han force attacked from behind, burning Mulan Pass to ashes.

With Mulan Pass lost, Hu Zun returned with barely over two hundred men from his original three thousand, and he himself was injured. The outcome at Xunkou was predictable—whether it would be defeat or surrender depended largely on Shen Yi, who always put his own interests first; surrender was the likely outcome.

In other words, Shu Han’s reinforcements were coming soon, and Hu Zun’s time was running out.

A force of ten thousand men might seem small, but Sima Yi knew well that after half a month of fierce battles, his own losses were staggering. His thirty thousand troops had been reduced by nearly ten thousand. The prolonged siege sapped morale, and, most critically, his supplies had run out.

Two options lay before him: retreat immediately, starving, back to Xiangyang—though humiliating, it would prevent total collapse. But that would mean a crushing defeat, turning his earlier victory over Zhuge Jin into a joke, and facing countless pitying or contemptuous gazes—from men like Chen Qun or Zhang He.

The other option: continue the assault and capture Fangling before Shu Han reinforcements arrived. Meng Da had prepared well; the city’s provisions were abundant. Taking Fangling would not only replenish supplies and restore morale but also allow a defensive hold, making the defeat of the Shu army expected. The Shu general leading the troops was Zhuge Qiao, a young, inexperienced boy, hardly a match.

This plan was risky but promised great reward. After half a month of attacks, Fangling was on the brink of falling. Two days and nights of fighting had shattered the morale that the arrival of reinforcements had sparked and damaged the city’s defenses. Sima Yi believed that with just another day or even half a day of biting the bullet, he could breach the city.

To fight or to retreat—these two crows circled restlessly in Sima Yi’s mind, unsettling his thoughts.

“General Hu, you may rest now,” Sima Shi said, seeing his father silent and deep in thought. He knew Sima Yi was weighing the pros and cons. Not wanting Hu Zun and the others to sense his father’s hesitation, he promptly dismissed them. Hu Zun dared not utter a word, saluted, and left.

“Ziyuan, fight or retreat?”

“Either is possible,” Sima Shi replied calmly. “If we fight, it’s all in, regardless of consequences—a gamble left to fate. If we retreat, then do so immediately. Even if we falter now, as long as you live, father, there will be opportunities to come back.”

Sima Yi glanced at his son and smiled. He knew Sima Shi had completely grasped his thoughts, considered both options and their outcomes, even foreseen what might follow. He was pleased. In a moment when he himself hesitated, Sima Shi’s calmness and decisiveness were rare virtues.

“Once Xiahou Shang’s mourning is over, I will marry Xiahou Hui for you.”

“I will follow all your arrangements, Father,” Sima Shi said thoughtfully, then asked, “Father, Zhuge Liang has been stationed in Hanzhong nearly a year. Meng Da’s uprising now is certainly to draw our forces away on Zhuge Liang’s behalf. Should we notify the court and warn Xiahou Mao to be cautious?”

Sima Yi shook his head. “Cao Zidan has stayed in Luoyang too long. Let him move about, return to his Guanzhong.”

Sima Shi was about to speak again when a report arrived: Wu’s reinforcements were thirty li away and rapidly approaching.

Sima Yi sprang to his feet, clenching his fists tightly, eyes wide with alarm. Sima Shi’s expression changed as well; he barked sharply, “How many? Who leads them?”

“Judging by their battle flags, it should be Pan Zhang, with roughly five thousand men.”

Father and son exchanged a glance and said in unison, “Impossible!”

Five thousand men breaking through the three thousand defending Anqiao Pass—even if led by Wu’s fierce general Pan Zhang—was impossible.

Sima Yi paused, then suddenly understood. “Ziyuan, I was negligent.”

“Yes, we were indeed careless,” Sima Shi realized too and smiled bitterly. “It must be those Shu troops from the western hills who arrived at Anqiao Pass. Had they not attacked from behind, Jin Dongliu would not have lost Anqiao Pass.”

Sima Yi sighed deeply. “No doubt. I don’t know who this person is, but I can say with certainty that he will be a formidable enemy in the future.”

Sima Shi nodded. “Indeed, he will be our strong adversary.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Father, there’s no need to deliberate further. Let’s retreat.”

“Retreat!” Sima Yi stroked his beard, shaking his head. “Fate—it truly is fate.”

…

Not long after Wei Ba escorted Jin Dongliu away from Anqiao Pass, he received word that Sima Yi was retreating and the siege of Fangling was lifted. Frowning, Wei Ba pulled on the reins but showed no joy.

Zhuge Liang’s intent was to have Meng Da hold off Sima Yi, not merely to reinforce Meng Da. Sima Yi’s abrupt withdrawal was hardly an ideal outcome for Zhuge Liang.

What troubled Wei Ba more was that he had led Pan Zhang into Xincheng—a move whose merits or faults were yet unclear. But it was certain that the situation in Xincheng had become more complicated. With Wu’s support, Meng Da’s confidence grew; he would not so easily bow to Zhuge Liang. Maintaining semi-independence would be easier.

That was exactly the plan.

While pondering, Wei Ba spoke to the bound Jin Dongliu, “Your lord fled like a lost dog and probably didn’t think to care about you.”

Jin Dongliu, severely wounded and unable to walk, enjoyed the rare privileges of a high-ranking captive—lying on a stretcher carried by two other prisoners, walking beside Wei Ba. The Wei army had been caught completely off guard in the attack on Anqiao Pass, losing only a few scouts who escaped; all men and materiel were seized by Wei Ba, including over a hundred warhorses—a tremendous gain for the horse-deficient Shu Han.

In a good mood, Wei Ba treated Jin Dongliu well, chatting with him when time permitted.

Jin Dongliu’s face was expressionless; he had long grown used to Wei Ba’s teasing. After a moment, he said, “Since victory is impossible, a swift withdrawal from Xincheng to preserve strength and strike when the opportunity arises is the wisest choice. I am but a defeated general, unworthy of his concern. If he hesitates, I will be disappointed.”

Wei Ba snorted dismissively.

Jin Dongliu lay on the stretcher, studying Wei Ba’s expression, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Deputy Commander Wei, it is you who should be worried. With Wu troops in Xincheng, you won’t be able to swallow Meng Da whole. This place will drain more of your energy—you’d better think about your own troubles.”

“What troubles?” Wei Ba chuckled. “Going downstream on the Mian River is easy; upstream is hard. Retaking Hanzhong from Xincheng won’t be simple. Besides, I’m just a deputy commander soon returning to the Chancellor’s residence for a quiet life. No matter how troublesome here is, it won’t fall on my head. Capturing a general like you and seizing so many horses counts as a great achievement.”

Jin Dongliu sealed his lips tightly, realizing he might never win an argument with Wei Ba.

——————

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