The sun had barely begun to rise when the thunderous sound of imperial drums echoed throughout the valley, announcing the beginning of the siege of Liang Cheng. Han Yue's troops, formed in impeccable lines, deployed with military precision around the city. The gleam of their armor reflected the determination of an army expecting a swift victory, but the strength of the walls and the resilience of the defenders soon challenged those expectations. The city of Liang Cheng, nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains, was a natural stronghold, and its walls, reinforced with stone and steel, seemed to defy even the most powerful forces. Each stone block was carefully carved and fitted, and the watchtowers rose like silent giants, observing every movement of the imperial troops. Rebel flags fluttered in the wind, defiantly displaying their vibrant colors against imperial oppression, while the sentinels, firm in their positions, watched every enemy maneuver.
Han Yue, from a nearby hill, watched as his troops advanced toward the gates of Liang Cheng. His face, calm but firm, concealed the concern beginning to surface in his mind. The imperial catapults hurled flaming projectiles against the walls, lighting up the morning sky with flashes of fire. The siege towers, imposing structures of wood and metal, slowly slid across the rugged terrain, their wheels creaking under the weight as they advanced toward the enemy defenses. However, the rebels, led by Zi Chen, were prepared. From atop the walls, the defenders responded with a rain of arrows and boiling oil, setting several of the towers ablaze before they could reach the walls. The heat of the oil burned the flesh of the imperial soldiers, their screams of pain mixing with the din of battle. The rebel catapults, though less sophisticated, found their targets with alarming accuracy, demoralizing the imperial troops on the first day. Every arrow that flew from the walls seemed to have a clear target, and the boiling oil cascaded in lethal torrents, burning everything in its path. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning wood and scorched flesh, while the smoke darkened the sky, partially obscuring the sun.
The first day of the siege was a trial by fire for both sides. The screams of soldiers, the creaking of breaking wood, and the smell of smoke and blood filled the air, creating a suffocating atmosphere that enveloped the battlefield. Han Yue, from his elevated position, could see his troops fighting bravely, but also how fierce the rebels' resistance was. Zi Chen, the rebel leader, had proven to be a cunning strategist and a charismatic leader. His men followed him with devotion, and his knowledge of the terrain and urban defense tactics made Liang Cheng a tough nut to crack. Every move by the imperials was anticipated and countered with precision. The ambushes and traps prepared by the rebel engineers showed the city's meticulous preparation to withstand the siege.
By the end of the day, the battlefield was littered with debris and bodies. The imperial soldiers, exhausted and wounded, began to retreat to their camps, while the rebels celebrated their first victory from the walls. The torches lit on the walls illuminated the sweaty, satisfied faces of the defenders, while the victorious shouts echoed throughout the city. Han Yue, frowning, realized this would not be an easy victory. The city had withstood the first onslaught, and the siege was shaping up to be a prolonged struggle. He knew that every day that passed without taking the city increased the risk of the rebels receiving reinforcements or his own troops beginning to lose morale. The pressure also came from political intrigues, as the four great families awaited any sign of weakness to act.
That night, in the imperial command tent, Han Yue gathered his generals. The atmosphere was tense; the reports were clear: Liang Cheng's defenses were not only stronger than expected, but the rebels' morale remained surprisingly high. Maps and intelligence reports were spread out over the table, and the generals' faces reflected a mix of frustration and determination. The dim light of the oil lamps cast long, ominous shadows over the officers' faces, creating a charged atmosphere of tension.
"We will not underestimate Zi Chen again," said Han Yue, his voice sharp as a blade. "If we cannot take the city by brute force, we will wear them down. We will cut off their supplies, weaken their morale, and wait for the right moment to strike again."
Orders were given to fortify the imperial positions around the city. Patrols were intensified to ensure that no resources entered or left Liang Cheng. Improvised watchtowers were erected around the perimeter, and imperial scouts began monitoring every access route. However, time was a double-edged sword. Every day that passed without a clear victory increased the risks of running out of supplies and the possibility of rebel reinforcements cutting off their supply lines. Han Yue knew he had to act cautiously but decisively. The pressure from the four great families weighed on him like a constant shadow.
Meanwhile, within Liang Cheng's walls, Zi Chen met with his own commanders. The atmosphere in the city was one of resistance and determination. Although the rebels had managed to repel the first attack, they knew the imperial army would not retreat easily. Zi Chen, a middle-aged man with a piercing gaze and a calm yet firm voice, spoke to his men in the war room, illuminated by torches casting flickering light over the maps and plans.
"Han Yue is a shrewd general," he said. "Let us not underestimate his ability to adapt. We must be prepared for anything. Strengthen the defenses, secure the supplies, and keep morale high. This city is our home, and we will not surrender it without a fight."
The following days were a test of endurance for both sides. The imperials continued their attacks, trying different tactics to weaken the city's defenses. Catapults hurled stones and incendiary projectiles, while archers attempted to keep the defenders under constant pressure. However, the rebels responded with ingenuity and determination. They used secret tunnels to launch surprise attacks against the imperial lines, and their engineers had designed traps and obstacles to slow the enemy's advance. The streets of Liang Cheng were filled with barricades and ambush points, turning every corner into a deadly trap for the invaders.
One night, during one of Han Yue's strategy meetings, one of his generals suggested a bold tactic: digging tunnels under the city's walls to place explosives and bring down a section of the defenses. Han Yue, after weighing the risks and benefits, decided to approve the plan. However, Zi Chen, anticipating this possibility, had ordered the construction of countermines—tunnels designed to intercept and sabotage the attackers' efforts. When the imperial soldiers began digging, they encountered unexpected resistance, and the plan ended in costly failure. The rebels had placed explosive traps in the tunnels, and when the imperials reached a certain depth, the explosions caused collapses that buried dozens of soldiers. The effort to undermine the walls not only failed but also resulted in a significant loss of men and resources. The echo of the explosions resonated across the battlefield, leaving a deathly silence among the imperial ranks.
As the weeks passed, the siege began to take its toll on both sides. Supplies within Liang Cheng began to run low, and the rebels' morale, though still high, began to show signs of strain. On the other hand, the imperial troops also faced difficulties. The increasingly cold weather and diseases spreading in the camps were weakening their combat capacity. The soldiers, accustomed to swift victories, began to question Han Yue's strategy. Rumors of discontent spread through the camps, and some even spoke of desertion. The nights were filled with whispers and wary glances, as uncertainty took hold of the heart of the imperial army.