A sharp horn sounded from above, growing increasingly tense.
This was different from the Zhou people's drum horns. The soldiers on the city wall looked out and saw vehicles emerging from the distant Jin Camp, followed by a surge of woodcutters.
The trenches had already been filled, and the uneven ground couldn't slow these vehicles down.
These vehicles were different from the earlier shield carts; not only were they armored, but they also carried long ladders.
Compared to the ladders previously carried by the woodcutters, these were more formidable siege weapons.
The war drums on the city wall also began to beat as teams of civilians carrying buckets rushed up the wall.
They stood at the outer edge of the wall, able to see the dense wave of woodcutters rushing forward without even looking down, and heard the fierce shouts of battle.
Perhaps they had become numb from witnessing so much, not as panic-stricken as before.
The woodcutters had already reached the bottom of the wall, but there was no barrage of bows and crossbows from the wall. One, the siege vehicles were well-defended, many woodcutters hid behind or beneath them, reducing the effectiveness of bows and crossbows. Two, there weren't enough crossbow arrows left.
The siege vehicles drew closer to the wall, and the thumping seemed to shake the entire wall.
The people on the wall remained calm and unflustered.
"Tip them over!"
Until the command was given.
The civilians poured out their buckets, and various oils were splashed down the wall, followed by another group of civilians who lit torches and tossed them down.
Flames erupted at the bottom of the wall, accompanied by the screams of the woodcutters.
"Rolling stones!"
The waiting civilians pushed logs and stones down.
Chaos erupted outside the city gate, with cries of pain and confusion.
Having poured the oil, the civilians did not relish the woodcutters' misery; they quickly rushed down the wall while another group carrying buckets ran up, passing each other.
Countless people were running outside the wall, large barrels of oil were pushed out, and teams of civilians lined up to wait.
Carrying oil, up the wall, rush down, then carry more oil, up the wall, a cycle repeating over and over.
The screams outside the wall were relentless, but the crowd did not laugh heartily like in previous attacks.
Though they didn't understand warfare, they felt uneasy as they relied on rolling logs and hot oil to repel the woodcutters.
Why wasn't the Qingshan Army using those mighty stone bullets?
The stone bullets had been used once, not only astonishing the crowd but also scaring the Jurchen people into retreating twenty miles away, without daring to attack for two days.
But in these recent assaults by the Jurchen people, the stone bullets were not used again.
"Stone bullets are suited for long distances; the Jurchen people are right at the foot of the wall, so the stone bullets wouldn't work," a civilian murmured, echoing the government soldiers' explanation.
This seemed rational, yet something felt amiss.
Day after day, the Jurchen people's assaults grew more fierce, but the stone bullets never appeared again.
"Could it be like the crossbow arrows; we're running out of them?" another civilian muttered.
As the words left his mouth, those nearby felt an icy chill settle upon them, as if they had fallen into a frozen pit despite the vibrant March weather.
Looking outside the city at the woodcutters forced to retreat due to the burning oil and rolling logs, the gathered generals were visibly angered.
"We thought we could capture the city in three or four days, but it's been over ten days, and we still haven't succeeded," a Jin General growled.
"A city defended by fewer than a thousand soldiers is forcing our tens of thousands to wage siege warfare?" another Jin General frowned.
The capital had no shortages of food and water; if besieged, it could hold out for a year or more.
The capital's people could endure; however, their army could not. This was, after all, deep within the Central Plains, and they had relied on swift advancements to reach this point. If the battle dragged on, reinforcements from the north and south would arrive, leaving them without any chance of victory.
"We initially believed the capital's populace, accustomed to luxury, lacked courage, yet they did not crumble after one blow," a Jin General remarked grimly. "They've held on for so long, with no signs of unease; evidently, morale is stable."
This statement made the other Jin Generals jittery, and amidst the commotion, Yu Chihai, who had remained silent, suddenly burst into laughter.
"Just as I predicted," he said.
What had he predicted? Unable to capture the capital?
"Lord Yu, if we fail to capture the capital this time, the Great Emperor won't spare us," a Jin General remarked, anything but blandly.
To be precise, he wouldn't spare Yu Chihai.
It was due to Believing in his persuasion that the emperor had committed the nation's resources and the blood and flesh of countless warriors to battle the Zhou people, seeking wealth to strengthen Jin Country's might. But if this battle failed, Great Jin would undoubtedly be exhausted, its national strength greatly diminished.
These seemingly fierce but inwardly timid barbarians, Yu Chihai did not appear ashamed or annoyed by the comment, his expression remained placid.
"They don't have those stone bullets. The city doesn't have the Qingshan Army," he said, gesturing toward the city.
The generals were taken aback.
Because of those stone bullets, they almost abandoned the siege and fled; it's Yu Chihai who insisted on giving it another try. Now, after these attempts, there really were no stone bullets being fired.
Yu Chihai stepped forward, smirking.
"It was just bluster," he said, "Their morale was merely boosted by the stone bullets; warriors, don't be deceived by them."
Were they really deceived?
The Jin Generals cursed the Southern People for their deceit.
"No external reinforcements, no internal defenses left; let's see how long they can maintain their morale," Yu Chihai sneered, "Warriors, begin alternating siege attacks continuously, day and night, let's become an unending nightmare for these Zhou people."
......
......
Accompanied by sharp whistles, arrows laced with oil and fire shot up from below the city and landed on the wall, followed by a barrage of flaming arrows that rained down like torrents. Despite the drenched bedding laid out, flames erupted across the wall.
With the flames rose cries of anguish; many young, strong civilians couldn't evade the arrows and were wounded, plunging the wall into chaos.
But this wasn't the most terrifying part; from the vantage point of the outer wall, they could see the ladders the woodcutters had set up, blanketed with woodcutters climbing up.
In one section, a soldier saw a hand gripping the edge of the wall, followed by a head emerging, with a pointed helmet and a fiercely different appearance from the Zhou People.
Woodcutter!
Woodcutter!
So this is what Jurchen people look like.
The soldier's mind inexplicably flashed with the thought, his whole being seemed to empty out, clutching his weapon in a daze.
The screams nearby jolted him awake, and he saw two soldiers driving a chevaux-de-frise against the woodcutter who had just climbed up.
The spikes pierced the woodcutter, and the two soldiers heaved, pushing the man along with the chevaux-de-frise down.
This caused a string of woodcutters to fall off the long ladder.
"Kill."
A voice, weathered with age, shouted.
Five soldiers, their faces pale, gripped long spears, thrusting at the woodcutters who kept emerging.
They seemed to have forgotten fear, mechanically wielding their long spears.
The city wall was filled with the sounds of slaughter; this combat didn't last long, as the woodcutters climbing up were soon killed, once again organizing the courageous civilians who pushed the oil and chevaux-de-frise down, the ladders breaking, the woodcutters falling, as flames erupted and stones rolled relentlessly from below.
Another wave of attacks repelled, but there was no joy in the siege, surrounded only by corpses and blood, flames still roared vividly, and the heavy atmosphere of grief hung ever more powerfully.
Beneath the city wall, muddied civilians clustered beneath the eaves of street-side houses, seeking shelter from the woodcutters' bow attacks, as injured soldiers and civilians were carried down from the wall, in harrowing states of disarray.
"It's been nonstop for two days and nights..." someone muttered, "We don't even have arrows left; next, we can only rely on hand-to-hand combat."
"This time woodcutters have climbed the wall, next time there will be more," someone else said in a low voice.
No one harbored hopes for the stone bullets anymore.
"The authorities are all liars," a civilian suddenly said, angrily raising his head.
A figure on the city wall entered his sight.
It was a small child, standing in the center of the city gate, as upright as the flagpole beside him.
The angry gaze of the crowd dissipated.
Even in such a perilous situation, Prince Huai still guards the city wall.
"Running away back then would mean death; staying here, we can live a few more days," an old man sighed.
But in the end, it would still mean death.
A moment of silence hung around.
"Hey, did you hear what the Jurchen people said..." a voice suddenly whispered, "if we surrender, we won't die...."
In the past few days, although the Jurchen people rained arrows into the city, some were also tied with white cloth bearing messages.
The content urged surrender, promising that if the city gates were opened, the Jurchen people would not harm the populace.
These cloth strips were quickly confiscated and incinerated by those loyal to the feudal authority, but some were picked up by civilians and spread around.
"What nonsense! Can the words of the Jurchen people be trusted?" an old man exclaimed, glaring at the speaker, "If the Jurchen people could be trusted, why are they here now?"
The Jurchen people had originally signed a peace agreement, yet now they attack us once more.
The surrounding people fell silent.
"So don't believe what they say," the old man declared loudly, "We must hold firm, as long as the city remains unbroken, we have hope for life. The Jurchen people cannot besiege us for long."
The people around nodded in agreement, but morale was not as strong as before.
The atmosphere throughout the capital was now plunged into gloom; Ning Yan, standing on the city wall, let out a gentle sigh.
"Lord Ning."
Miss Jun's voice sounded from behind.
Ning Yan turned around and saw Miss Jun approaching.
"It's time to assign personnel to guard the city gates closely," she said gravely.
The hearts of the people were already unstable; if anyone were entranced and opened the gates, their previous efforts would all be for naught.
Ning Yan nodded.
"Arrangements have already been made," he replied.
"I suspect the Jurchen people will attack again tonight," Miss Jun said.
Ning Yan nodded.
"They are determined to succeed," he said, "They want to get it done in one go."
"We have no retreat either; we are also determined," Miss Jun said, "As long as they don't get into the city, we win."
With over ten years of military and civilian service, they would block the Jurchen people using close quarters battle if necessary.
Ning Yan understood her intent.
"Is Prince Huai holding up okay?" he asked.
Miss Jun looked back at the tent, where Prince Xian had also arrived and was speaking with Prince Huai.
"If the Jurchen people break the city, what do you plan to do?" Prince Xian asked, patting his stomach.
His demeanor was relaxed, as if discussing trivial matters like the weather.
Prince Huai's expression was serious.
"I will take my own life," he said, "I will never fall into the hands of the Jurchen people."
Prince Xian shook his head at him.
Was I wrong? Prince Huai was puzzled.
"Not suicide," Prince Xian said, "You should jump off the city wall, crushing as many as you can."
Prince Huai was enlightened and nodded earnestly.
"Imperial Uncle speaks wisely," he said.
Prince Xian proudly patted his stomach.
"But with your build, you'll probably only crush one," he said, "I, however, could certainly crush two."
Hearing this, Miss Jun couldn't help but laugh, and Ning Yan also chuckled.
As their laughter began, a tremor was heard in the distance, and their expressions changed slightly; the people on the city wall also turned pale.
The Jurchen people were attacking again, giving them no time to catch their breath.
The sky was already darkening, yet the Jurchen people attacked overnight, ignoring all taboos, showing their determination.
"Prepare for battle," Ning Yan said, turning and striding away.
...….
...….
The war drums sounded heavily within the city, the streets bustling with countless footsteps.
Seventh Chen stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth hastily; a bowl was handed to him from the side.
He turned and saw Fang Jinxiu.
"Why are you here?" he mumbled, taking the bowl and drinking it all, swallowing the bread, then looking at Fang Jinxiu, "You shouldn't have come to the capital."
He hadn't finished dealing with the Fang Family's money business in Yangcheng yet, so by rights, he shouldn't be here.
Fang Jinxiu looked at him.
"Luckily, I came, or else I'd have been worrying about your life and death every day," she said, "It's more convenient to die together."
Seventh Chen chuckled.
"You want to die with me, huh?" he said.
Fang Jinxiu's expression was wooden.
"I meant Jun Zhenzhen, not you," she said.
Seventh Chen laughed but said nothing more, handing her the bowl.
"There aren't enough people on the city wall; we need more able-bodied men up there now," he said, pausing for a moment, "I'm going."
With that, he turned and strode away, quickly merging into the sea of people rushing down the streets, like unstoppable waves flowing toward the city wall.
Miss Jun still stood on the city wall, clearly seeing the Jurchen soldiers approaching once again.
Whether they could hold the city depended on tonight.
"Miss Jun."
A voice called from behind.
Miss Jun turned and was somewhat surprised to see the newcomer.
"Mr. Gu," she said.
Standing behind were four or five people, led by Mr. Gu, Jiurong's teacher.
After Jiurong was taken away by Prince Xian, she had forgotten about him.
However, with Lu Yunqi gone and no one guarding Prince Huai's Mansion, it was natural that Mr. Gu could walk out anytime.
Given Jiurong's various behaviors, Miss Jun held no deep animosity toward Mr. Gu, but rather a bit of respect.
Jiurong had been educated so well, she certainly didn't think it was Jiurong's innate nature alone.
"And why have you come here, sir?" Miss Jun asked.
Mr. Gu moved a few steps closer, his demeanor gentle.
"Lord Lu made some arrangements before he left," he said.
Lu Yunqi?
Miss Jun was momentarily stunned, her expression cautious.