Volume Two: The Battle of Hulao Pass Chapter Fifty-One: Three Thousand Against One Hundred Thousand! (Part Two)

Dou Jiande’s rise from the chaos at the end of the Sui Dynasty, commanding over a hundred thousand soldiers and becoming a dominant warlord, was no accident—he was no ordinary man. While he might not be counted among the true masters of the art of war, he was certainly well-versed in military texts.

In this battle, constrained by the terrain, he arranged his force of one hundred thousand into a long, cross-shaped formation. The vanguard consisted of twenty thousand elite infantry, veterans inherited from his former superior Gao Shida—hardened by countless battles and always held in high regard by Dou Jiande. He placed them at the front as the main fighting force for this engagement.

On each flank, he stationed a mixed force of cavalry and infantry, totaling forty thousand men. These were a motley assembly, collected since his initial uprising: former Sui soldiers who had been incorporated after defeat, as well as the former followers of local strongmen like Wei Dao’er, Meng Haigong, and Xu Yuanlang. Factional rivalries ran rampant, and no one truly obeyed another. The Xia state was newly established, and Dou Jiande hadn’t yet had time to absorb these disparate groups before Li Tang began his campaign against Wang Shichong. For now, he managed to suppress dissent with the momentum from his victory over Meng Haigong, but these tens of thousands were little more than a rabble, suited only to easy victories. Helpless, Dou Jiande could only scatter them across the flanks to bolster his numbers, never truly expecting them to contribute meaningfully in battle.

The remaining forty thousand included ten thousand raw conscripts, yet to see bloodshed—hardly useful for real combat, brought only to gain experience and stationed at the rear. Another ten thousand were archers and crossbowmen, assigned behind the vanguard but ahead of the main force to provide ranged support. The last twenty thousand formed the elite cavalry—the true backbone of the Xia army, the force Dou Jiande relied on for his campaigns—personally commanded by him in the central position.

Gazing at his force of a hundred thousand, stretching for over ten miles, bristling with spears and banners blotting out the sun, Dou Jiande brimmed with confidence. Sometimes he even wondered if deploying such a grand formation against Li Shimin, who had only a few thousand men, was overly cautious—perhaps he was overestimating his opponent.

Dou Jiande felt assured: Li Shimin had just over three thousand men. Even if my army stood idle and let him attack, he’d tire himself to death before making a dent.

If Li Shimin left the pass to fight, the plan was simple: the vanguard would engage and pin down his cavalry, and then a single charge by the twenty thousand elite horsemen would settle the matter. If he hunkered down in Hulao Pass, Dou Jiande would assault the fortress: a hundred thousand men storming in waves, relentless, would reduce even the mightiest stronghold to dust in half a day.

Li Shiji, with three hundred cavalry, charged toward the Xia army’s formation from west to south as ordered by his commander. Li Shiji was famed for his cunning and flexibility in command, a master of deception. He knew the overall strategy and was determined to do his utmost to provoke the enemy, forcing them to shift formation and opening a breach.

The three hundred sped out of the pass; as they rode, Li Shiji instructed his men to shout loudly and make a great show of force, creating an impression of overwhelming momentum.

As soon as Li Shiji exited the pass, the Xia army spotted him. The vanguard commander hurriedly ordered his troops to their feet, bows at the ready, blades drawn, poised and waiting for battle. Yet the Tang cavalry veered off before entering range, heading straight for the left flank.

Seeing that the Tang force was only a few hundred and realizing this was merely a probe, the vanguard commander, trusting in the strength of his own position—over twenty thousand on the left flank—felt no concern and instructed his soldiers to continue resting.

The Xia army’s left flank was a chaotic mix, recently reorganized, with neither soldiers nor officers familiar with one another. The men lounged about, fighting over water, their horses unattended, their weapons and bows carelessly discarded.

The formation was only about a mile and a half from Hulao Pass—a distance cavalry could cover at full gallop in little more than a minute. When Li Shiji’s force arrived, many Xia soldiers had not even risen; chaos broke out as word spread of the sudden Tang attack. Some scrambled to their feet, others fumbled for weapons or searched for their mounts, the whole flank descending into turmoil.

Only a handful of Xia archers managed to react; in their panic, they loosed a desultory volley of a hundred or so arrows, none well-aimed or powerfully drawn. Most arrows fell short, barely fifty paces out, causing no casualties.

Li Shiji would not miss such an opportunity. Raising his lance high, he shouted, “Charge!” and squeezed his horse’s flanks, accelerating further.

The three hundred Tang cavalry formed a wedge as they charged into the Xia ranks. With each thrust and slash of his lance, Li Shiji cut down two enemies, then, pressing down the rear grip and lifting the front, skewered a third through the abdomen. The wounded man, still clinging to life out of sheer dread, writhed and howled, impaled on the lance.

With a flick of his weapon, Li Shiji hurled the corpse at the enemy, knocking down several more Xia soldiers. The Tang riders, blades extended beyond their horses, used the momentum of their charge to decapitate foe after foe with minimal effort.

At first contact, over a hundred Xia soldiers fell on the left flank, the Tang cavalry cutting deep into their ranks. The Xia commander struggled to rally his men, but morale was already low and the troops lacked cohesion. Only after Li Shiji’s men had killed several hundred did he manage to re-form a semblance of order.

Seeing that the Xia were regaining their composure, Li Shiji signaled to his men: “Cut east!” He led his cavalry from west to east through the enemy ranks.

The Xia left-wing commander, Cao Biao, was ambitious but incompetent. His only qualification was being Dou Jiande’s wife’s nephew, which earned him his post. Seeing the Tang force was only a few hundred, and attributing the earlier slaughter to surprise alone, Cao Biao was unwilling to let them escape, fearing it would disgrace him before his uncle and undermine his authority. He hastily mustered several thousand cavalry in pursuit.

Several vice-generals on the left—former Sui officers who understood warfare—tried to dissuade him, reminding him of Dou Jiande’s strict orders to hold formation. But Cao Biao, arrogant as ever, paid them no heed, lashing them with his whip until they dared not protest further.

Cao Biao’s rash move opened a gap between the left flank and Dou Jiande’s main force, disrupting the army’s unity.

Li Shimin, observing from the pass, saw the instability on the Xia left flank and decided instantly: “All troops, attack!”

The three thousand Tang soldiers, led by Luo Shixin and Niu Jinda, with Li Shimin himself commanding the armored guard at the rear, charged straight at the Xia army, their horses thundering across the field, raising clouds of dust.

Luo Shixin and Niu Jinda each led a thousand men into the fray. Niu Jinda’s force engaged the Xia vanguard, tying them down and preventing them from supporting the flank.

Luo Shixin led his thousand cavalry straight into the left wing, cutting through the Xia ranks like a tiger among sheep, leaving devastation in his wake.

The Xia left was already a disorganized rabble, and now, demoralized and outmatched, they scattered, weeping and fleeing in terror.

Luo Shixin was a rare warrior, fearless and unstoppable; he rampaged through the enemy, his lance dripping with blood, felling Xia soldiers without count.

Cao Biao, seeing the massed Tang assault, was paralyzed with fear—a pampered scion with no real skills. Luo Shixin spotted him amidst the chaos, his gleaming armor marking him as a high-ranking officer. “You, boy! Your life is mine!” roared Luo Shixin, spurring his horse toward Cao Biao.

Cao Biao had seen this giant Tang general rampaging through the Xia ranks, unstoppable, covered in blood—a veritable demon. Now he was being targeted and dared not resist. He ordered his bodyguards, “Stop him! Hold him off!” and tried to flee.

Luo Shixin surged forward, meeting the bodyguards head-on. “Out of my way! Whoever blocks me dies!” he thundered.

The bodyguards were no match for Luo Shixin; in moments, his lance skewered and hurled two aside, and with a single sweep, he sliced off half of another’s head.

Dispatching them with ease, Luo Shixin chased down Cao Biao, stretched out his arm, and with a strange whistle, drove his lance through Cao Biao’s back.

With a single arm, Luo Shixin lifted Cao Biao’s corpse on his lance, raising it high as he laughed wildly.

The surrounding Xia soldiers, seeing the terrifying Tang general covered in blood, their commander’s lifeless body impaled on his lance, lost all will to fight. They broke and fled in panic.

The entire Tang army surged forward, attacking the vanguard and left flank; a messenger galloped to report to Dou Jiande.

Dou Jiande, in full armor, was dining when the news arrived. He set his food aside and asked, “Did you see how many Tang soldiers there were?”

The messenger, clever and alert, answered, “Reporting to the lord, roughly several thousand.”

“Did you see Li Shimin’s banner?” Dou Jiande asked, his expression shifting.

“No, but the Tang troops are incredibly fierce. The vanguard is holding for now, but the left flank is about to collapse,” the messenger replied, not daring to exaggerate.

Dou Jiande pondered briefly, then ordered, “Summon my officers! The vanguard is to eliminate the enemy and reinforce quickly. The right wing is to close in on the left, forming a pincer—let none escape! The main force is to advance. Archers, turn your ranks and fire at will upon the Tang! Raise the king’s great banner, sound the drums—advance!”

At his command, the tens of thousands of Xia soldiers moved into action.

Dou Jiande, having abandoned the left flank, needed only for them to keep the Tang engaged until the right wing or vanguard could reinforce; once the encirclement closed, the Tang would have no way out.

Whether Li Shimin was present or not no longer mattered—without these few thousand men, even if Li Shimin were Sun Wu or Han Xin reborn, he could not hold Hulao Pass. Once the Tang were destroyed and the pass taken, Dou Jiande could sweep west, crush Wang Shichong and the remaining Tang forces, and achieve his great ambition.

Li Shimin led nine hundred armored cavalry out of the pass behind Luo Shixin and Niu Jinda’s two thousand. He deliberately kept a slower pace, conserving his horses for the final blow.

Tang morale was sky-high; every man fought with the strength of ten. Niu Jinda’s thousand horsemen pinned down the Xia vanguard.

Luo Shixin routed the left flank, scattering them with devastating force.

Still, Li Shimin held back, hidden behind Luo Shixin’s force, his eyes fixed on the Xia main formation.

From the central Xia position came the thunder of war drums, and a massive ox-tail standard was raised high, moving steadily forward.

Even Li Shimin, seasoned veteran of a hundred battles, felt a surge of excitement. He knew that once the great standard moved, the main force would follow—Dou Jiande was about to take the field himself.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped his bow. As the enemy commander, Dou Jiande must be beneath that banner.

Victory or defeat would be decided in this moment. It was time for the armored cavalry to take the stage.