Volume Two: The Battle of Hulao Pass Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Curtain Falls on the Battle of Hulao Pass

After Li Mingyu finished speaking, he reached behind his back and drew out his antler slingshot.

The warhorse, galloping madly, was now only two or three zhang from Li Mingyu. Like lightning, Li Mingyu’s hands worked without pause, pulling back the sling and releasing the stones. With a loud shout, “Strike!”

Two pebbles shot forth like blazing meteors, one after the other, striking both eyes of Dou Jiande’s warhorse.

Blinded at full gallop, the horse’s eyes burst on the spot. In agony, it reared its neck, lifted its forelegs, neighed miserably, and crashed to the ground.

Dou Jiande was thrown off, tumbling so hard that stars danced before his eyes. As he struggled to rise, a sudden pain flared at his neck—a cold dagger pressed against his throat.

He heard a boy’s voice: “Don’t move! I’m just a child and easily frightened. If you try anything, I might get scared and my hand could slip—a hole in your throat, you know.”

Dou Jiande’s face darkened, his heart full of suspicion and fear. Wasn’t this boy just a few zhang away? When did he get so close? He’s just a child—surely inexperienced. Should I risk it and fight back?

Li Mingyu, holding the dagger that Cheng Yaojin had given him, kept a close eye on Dou Jiande’s every expression. Seeing his darting eyes, Li Mingyu understood that he was being underestimated, perhaps even plotting something. He would give no such chance. With a swift motion, the razor-sharp dagger drew a shallow cut across Dou Jiande’s neck, and blood immediately welled out.

In a deliberately innocent tone, Li Mingyu said, “Oh dear, I told you not to move. Got you scared, didn’t I? Look at all that blood. Let me think—how did Daoist Sun teach me? Below the neck is the artery. Even a small cut and the blood will spurt out, unstoppable. Within a hundred breaths, you’ll lose too much blood and faint, and in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, not even the gods could save you!”

At these words, Dou Jiande stiffened, abandoning his earlier thoughts.

Li Mingyu pressed on, undermining his spirit: “Don’t worry! Don’t worry, there’s still hope. I’m not strong, so maybe I can’t cut too deep in one go. There’s a way to save you—I know a renowned physician named Sun Simiao, have you heard of him? Daoist Sun taught me a special method: if an artery is cut, you use a sewing needle, heat it red-hot, suture the flesh and blood vessels, then cauterize with a burning iron. Once the skin is scorched and the flesh burned, the bleeding stops. Daoist Sun always called me a medical genius once in a hundred years, but I’ve never had a chance to try this technique. Perhaps we should give it a go?”

Dou Jiande, hearing the boy’s naive voice and chilling words, shivered. Was this a treatment or torture? Was the boy truly innocent, or simply trying to terrify him? Yet under the eaves, one must bow his head; Dou Jiande dared not risk his life. The corner of his mouth twitched as he stammered, “Say no more, I won’t move.”

Though the Xia army’s personal guards fought bravely to the death, their defeat was inevitable. The Tang forces, with the mighty Xuanba leading them, soon dispatched the remaining guards. Li Xuanba, having seen Dou Jiande fleeing alone, was anxious and in hot pursuit.

Li Xuanba arrived just in time to see his apprentice capture Dou Jiande alive. Overjoyed, he laughed aloud, “Ha ha ha ha! Good disciple! Truly worthy to be called my apprentice!” Then he shouted to the Tang soldiers, “Bind him and bring him to the Prince of Qin!”

Li Mingyu, elated, laughed, “Like master, like apprentice! We caught Dou Jiande alive—I wonder what reward my second uncle will give me!”

With Dou Jiande’s capture, the Battle of Hulao Pass came to an end.

In this battle, Li Shimin achieved a resounding victory—just as he had proclaimed, a triumph rarely seen through the ages.

With the weak overcoming the strong, three thousand defeating one hundred thousand, they killed over five thousand enemies, took five to six thousand prisoners, and countless others fled. Immediately, Li Shimin dismissed the surrendered Xia soldiers, letting them return home.

At the Xia army’s camp in Banzhu, the commander, seeing their king’s defeat and capture, knew the cause was lost. He ordered the arrest of the secret envoy Wang Wan and Zhangsun Anshi of Zheng, then surrendered with his troops.

The Tang army’s momentum was unmatched, and Li Shimin’s renown spread throughout the realm.

News of Dou Jiande’s crushing defeat with an army of one hundred thousand reached Luoyang like the wind, dealing another devastating blow to the already exhausted Wang Shichong.

By then, the once dazzling and bustling Eastern Capital of Luoyang had lost all its former glory. Now the city was filled with starvation and ruin, corpses strewn everywhere.

Since the Tang encirclement, supplies had dwindled. The starving populace first gnawed on tree bark and wild roots. When those were gone, they scooped mud from ponds and mixed it with bran to make cakes. When even the mud and bran ran out, desperation drove them to cannibalism. For a time, Luoyang became a living hell, a land of desolation and misery.

Wang Shichong, narrow-minded and deeply suspicious by nature, saw the Tang army besieging the city and morale crumbling. He intensified his reign of terror, enforcing collective punishment.

If anyone in a household escaped, the entire family—regardless of age—was executed. If a father, son, or husband betrayed the family, they were spared. He ordered every five households to form a mutual surveillance group; if someone escaped and the neighbors failed to notice, all surrounding families were put to death.

This led to a cycle of fear and betrayal; executions increased, and more people tried to flee. Everyone in Luoyang lived in terror, as if treading on thin ice. Wang Shichong turned the imperial palace into a prison—any hint of suspicion, and he’d have whole families bound and thrown into confinement. Whenever he sent generals out to fight, he held their families as hostages in the palace.

To win over his dwindling forces, Wang Shichong allowed his remaining few thousand Zheng soldiers to loot freely, abuse women, and slaughter civilians for sport, turning the once-thriving capital into a wasteland where fewer than one in ten survived.

The news of Li Shimin’s victory over Dou Jiande destroyed Wang Shichong’s last hope. Knowing the end was near, he indulged in ever greater excess, drowning himself in luxury and revelry, seeking to enjoy his final days.

Li Xuanba, unwilling to see his fourth brother Yuanji and reveal his whereabouts to their father, decided to leave after Dou Jiande’s capture. He mentioned it to Li Shimin several times, but each time was delayed.

Li Shimin was torn—he knew his third brother still resented the Li family’s past decisions and wanted no further ties. Had it not been for Zhangsun’s plea and their childhood bond, he would never have come down from the mountains to help. He understood his brother’s feelings.

On the other hand, Li Shimin greatly valued Xuanba’s talents. In just a month at Hulao Pass, he had transformed the Black Armor Army into a formidable force. As a mighty general and his own brother, no one could command them better. Li Shimin was loath to let such talent waste away in obscurity.

Thus, he hesitated, resorting to delay. With no reply from his second brother, Xuanba stayed with the Black Armor Army, seldom leaving his quarters to avoid exposure.

Li Shimin, compassionate toward his soldiers, wished to avoid further conflict. A few days after settling the Xia forces, he personally led his troops, escorting Dou Jiande, Wang Wan, and Zhangsun Anshi to the gates of Luoyang and called out to Wang Shichong.

Since learning of the Xia defeat, Wang Shichong had aged visibly in just ten days—his temples frosted with white, eyes sunken, his face haggard. Seeing his captured allies at the gate, grief overwhelmed him and he wept bitterly.

Li Shimin released Wang Wan and Zhangsun Anshi to enter and persuade surrender, recounting the crushing defeat of Dou Jiande in detail. Hearing how three thousand Tang soldiers shattered an army of one hundred thousand, Wang Shichong lost all hope and will to resist.

With no alternative, Wang Shichong opened the city gates and begged to surrender.

On the ninth day of the sixth month in the fourth year of Wude, the gates of Luoyang swung open.

Wang Shichong, clad in white, led the crown prince, his officials, and over two thousand Zheng soldiers. Bearing the imperial seal and military talismans, he walked step by step toward the Tang camp to plead for mercy.

Li Shimin, resplendent in armor atop his steed, was surrounded by Tang generals like stars encircling the moon.

Wang Shichong knelt before Li Shimin’s horse, bowing low, lifting the seal and talismans high above his head. He cried out, “Prince of Qin, Wang Shichong surrenders! I present the seal and military talismans, begging the Prince to spare my family’s lives!”

Li Shimin looked down from above at the trembling, terrified Wang Shichong.

In high spirits, Li Shimin laughed, “Lord Wang, why so humble now? Weren’t you just calling me a mere stripling before?”

Wang Shichong, terrified by the mockery, sweated profusely, his body shaking uncontrollably, prostrating himself and begging forgiveness.

Li Shimin had no wish to quarrel further; a defeated general was unworthy of boasting, a fallen minister unworthy of saving. With a hearty laugh, he led his army into the city.

With this battle, Li Shimin settled the fate of the realm in one move, extinguishing the forces of Wang Shichong and Dou Jiande who had divided the Central Plains.

With Li Jing’s conquest of Xiao Chong in Sichuan, the unification of the empire under Tang was now assured.

Yet even after Wang Shichong’s surrender, Li Shimin could not immediately return home. Each day, he was busy untangling the chaos Wang Shichong had left in Luoyang.

Fortunately, with ministers like Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, and Zhangsun Wuji assisting, affairs were managed in good order.

They collected the remaining Sui maps and household registers, issued edicts, and recorded them carefully. The Sui treasury was sealed, confiscated treasures and silks distributed to the soldiers. The worst of Wang Shichong’s followers, a dozen or so, were detained for public trial in Chang’an. The innocent, imprisoned by Wang Shichong, were released; for those who died tragically, elegies and sacrifices were held.

Only by July were matters finally set in order, and Li Shimin prepared to return to the capital.

With tens of thousands of troops, breaking camp and returning home required thorough preparation. The spoils of Luoyang had to be registered item by item, lest any oversight provide grounds for slander. Even with his able ministers, Li Shimin was kept dizzyingly busy each day.

One day, while Li Shimin was sorting through state affairs, Zhangsun Wuji hurried in and reported, “Second Master! The Black Armor Army sent word this morning—their commander Xuanba was absent from drill and is missing from his quarters. Only these two letters were found!”

“Oh?” Li Shimin thought, so my third brother has left after all. He took the letters and opened the first—it was indeed a farewell.

Li Xuanba wrote that with Dou Jiande captured and Wang Shichong surrendered, the Li family’s unification of the nation was certain. Since the world believed Xuanba to be dead, he should not appear again. With his task for Zhangsun complete, he would spend the rest of his days in the mountains, living with nature and his departed wife, and would not leave unless truly necessary. He wished his second brother well, and invited him to visit if he ever had time.

After reading, Li Shimin sighed, “My third brother still bears resentment toward the Li family and our father. Alas!” Then he picked up the second letter—from Mingyu. In a childish scrawl, it read, “Second Uncle, we’re leaving! Don’t forget my contribution! When I return from the mountains, remember to reward me!”

(End of Volume Two)