Volume Two: The Battle of Hulao Pass Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Handful of Riders Scout the Enemy Camp, A Single Arrow Fells the Foe's Commander

Li Mingyu overheard their plan to leave the pass and scout Du Jiande’s encampment, and at once sidled over, smiling mischievously. “Second Uncle, let me come along too, won’t you? I’d like to see for myself.”

Before Li Shimin could answer, Li Xuanba’s eyes widened and he reproached him sternly, “We’re heading to the enemy’s camp, not out hunting. What business does a child like you have tagging along and making trouble?”

Mingyu pursed his lips in protest. “How am I making trouble? Didn’t you all praise my ideas before? Besides, we’re going to scout, not attack their camp. The enemy may not even spot us. Even if they do give chase, can’t we outrun them? Du Jiande’s camp is only thirty-odd li from here. As long as we get back inside the pass, we’ll be safe.”

Li Shimin considered this and then said to Xuanba, “There shouldn’t be much danger on this trip. Let Mingyu come along and broaden his horizons.”

Since his elder brother had spoken, Li Xuanba had no further objections. After thinking a moment, he added, “Though this is mainly a reconnaissance, we must still be prepared for anything. Second Brother, as commander of the army, you mustn’t take unnecessary risks. If we’re discovered, we should leave a force ready to support us.”

Li Shimin laughed. “Don’t worry, Xuanba, I’ve already made arrangements.” He gave nothing more away.

Though Li Mingyu, as someone from a later era who had travelled back in time, knew that Li Shimin would surely win the Battle of Hulao Pass, he had no idea how that victory would come about. He didn’t give it much thought; his main wish was to witness, even from afar, the spectacular sight of an army of a hundred thousand stretching for dozens of li. When Li Shimin agreed to let him come, he was overjoyed and clapped his hands. “Second Uncle is the best! Not like Master, who always treats me like a child.”

Li Shimin laughed. “Your master only means to care for you. Come, let Second Uncle take you riding.” With that, he left the command tent, mounted his horse, and, with a tug, lifted Li Mingyu onto the saddle in front of him.

Li Shimin was truly bold and fearless. For this reconnaissance, he brought only four riders and just his brother Xuanba and Yuchi Gong as officers—seven horses, eight people in all—riding out swiftly from the pass.

Du Jiande’s camp was thirty li east of Hulao Pass. One hundred thousand soldiers camped there, banners blotting out the sun, the encampments stretching for miles, vanishing beyond the horizon.

The party halted in a concealed grove three or four li from Du Jiande’s camp and reined in their horses to observe. The Xia army’s camp was built with its back to the Yellow River, the terrain flat on all sides. In the center, the ramparts rose high, watchtowers stood thick, moats ringed the outer works, and horses were tethered in layers. Several patrols of light cavalry circled the perimeter, keeping vigilant watch.

At this time, the Yellow River was not as it would be in later ages. Its surface stretched a hundred paces wide, with turbid waves rolling mightily, boats ceaselessly coming and going.

Li Shimin and his company watched in silence, faces grave. Li Mingyu, seated at the front of Li Shimin’s saddle, saw that Du Jiande’s camp had its back to the river and thought, isn’t this a soldier’s taboo? He asked aloud, “Second Uncle, why did Du Jiande camp here, with his back to the Yellow River, instead of choosing high ground that’s easier to defend? Is he imitating Han Xin’s ‘back-to-the-water’ formation?”

Li Shimin shook his head, his expression dark. “Du Jiande has his own reasons for this. He isn't copying Marquis of Huaiyin, Han Xin.” Pointing toward the river, he explained, “See, he chose this spot because the flat terrain here suits the deployment of his large force. By backing onto the Yellow River, he can easily bring in supplies from his stronghold across the water and needn’t fear enemy raids on his supply lines. As long as he holds the camp and secures his provisions, he cannot be defeated.”

Li Xuanba, too, looked solemn. “Second Brother, I see that Du Jiande’s encampment is well laid out, strict and orderly, his troops in fine array—not some rabble. It seems Du Jiande truly understands the art of war. I underestimated him before.”

As they spoke, a harsh voice suddenly rang out: “Who goes there? Sneaking about!”

In every age, armies have feared enemy scouts and surprise attacks. Du Jiande, well-versed in military strategy, had naturally placed scouts and patrols all around the camp. At this moment, a patrol of a dozen riders had spotted Li Shimin’s party and immediately closed in.

The group made no reply. Knowing their mission was complete—they had seen what they came to see—they wheeled their horses to ride back.

The Xia scouts, drawing closer, saw the Tang soldiers’ armor and shouted, “Men! Tang scouts! Seize them!” With that, he spurred his horse and led his men to attack.

His shout was loud, and with patrols thick around the Xia camp, soon a hundred men were converging on the spot, following the first wave to pursue Li Shimin’s group.

The leading scout, now only a few paces away, brandished his saber as he rode, taunting, “Hey, you Tang rats! Don’t run like a bunch of gutless women! Stay and let me claim a reward!” As he drew closer, he caught sight of the delicate-faced child on Li Shimin’s horse and leered, “Well, well! Brought a little boy along? A pretty one at that! Maybe for some special fun? Ha! I’ll have a taste myself soon!”

Li Shimin’s sword-brows arched at the filthy insults. He had always regarded himself as a hero; since taking command, he had never known defeat, and even rival warlords and famous generals held him in awe. To be insulted by a mere scout was intolerable. Yet as the dignified Prince of Qin, he scorned exchanging words with such a nobody. Instead, he calmly plucked his bow from the saddle, turned, drew it to full moon, and loosed an arrow straight into the scout’s face.

The man, still shouting, was struck mid-sentence—the arrow entered his mouth and exited through the back of his head. He toppled from his horse without a cry, dead before he hit the ground.

With a single arrow, Li Shimin felled his foe, then wheeled his horse to face the enemy, moving Mingyu behind him for protection. His hands moved like lightning, sending arrow after arrow, felling five or six more Xia soldiers in an instant.

Li Xuanba and Yuchi Gong, seeing their commander insulted, had been seething with suppressed wrath. Now, taking Li Shimin’s counterattack as their cue, they wheeled left and right, charging the Xia scouts like twin black dragons. Their lances swept up and down, slashing and thrusting; none could withstand a single exchange! Many Xia soldiers barely had time to react before they were knocked from their horses, dying wretchedly.

Li Mingyu, peeking out from behind Li Shimin, saw with awe the prince’s deadly accuracy—every arrow found its mark, killing a Xia scout with each shot. With his master Li Xuanba and Yuchi Gong rampaging through the enemy, dozens of Xia soldiers soon lay dead.

Mingyu’s sharp eyes spotted among the Xia a general wearing a red bronze helm, scaled armor, and riding a blue-maned horse, surrounded by guards. Excited, he called out, “Second Uncle, look! The one on the blue horse with the red helmet—he must be a general! Shoot him!”

Li Shimin spotted the general too. Having just killed several men, his spirit soared. “Very well! Watch your uncle shoot him for you!” Bow drawn to the full, he called out, “Li Shimin, Prince of Qin, is here! Face me if you dare!” and loosed an arrow like a shooting star.

That general, responsible for patrolling the camp’s perimeter, had rushed over when he heard cries to seize spies. Seeing the Tang warriors slaughtering his men, he hesitated, lacking confidence in his own martial skill. Suddenly, hearing Li Shimin’s shout, he turned—just in time to see a cold gleam flying toward his face. His skills were ordinary; he could not react in time. The arrow struck him between the brows, and he toppled from his horse, dead.

Li Shimin, displaying his divine prowess, slew the enemy general with a single arrow. He then slung his bow, took up his lance, and said to Mingyu, “Hold tight! I’m going to break through their ranks!”

Mingyu, sitting behind him, was shaking with excitement, his blood surging at the sight of his master and Yuchi Gong rampaging through the enemy ranks. He laughed aloud, thinking to himself that nothing stirred a man’s heart like the battles of the age of cold steel. Moved by Li Shimin’s heroic spirit, he cried, “Let’s charge together and send them running for their lives!”

Li Shimin let out a long, fierce cry. “I am Li Shimin, Prince of Qin! Who dares face me in battle?” With a flick of the reins, his horse neighed and thundered toward the Xia army. The Tang guards behind him shouted as one, spurred their mounts, and followed him into the fray. Though they were few, their charge was fierce and well-coordinated, hoofbeats shaking the earth.

The Xia troops were no match for Xuanba and Yuchi Gong. Now, with Li Shimin joining the fight, the three joined forces, smashing through the enemy ranks like a bolt of lightning.

Back in the Xia camp, the commotion had already been reported. The western camp commander, Yin Qiu, and his lieutenant, Shi Zan, were furious to learn that Tang scouts were running rampant and a mere hundred men could not subdue them. As they were preparing to send more troops, another urgent report arrived: Li Shimin, Prince of Qin himself, had killed their patrol commander with a single arrow. Alarmed, they thought the Tang army was launching a full attack. Hastily, they mustered five or six thousand cavalry and rode out, dust rising behind them like a golden dragon roaring toward the heavens.

The few Tang soldiers, seeing thousands of Xia cavalry charging to the rescue, were terrified. Their faces went pale as they realized they were only a handful against overwhelming odds.

Li Shimin took it all in, sighing inwardly. Mingyu had hit the nail on the head: even elite soldiers, when faced with such overwhelming numbers and no hope of victory, would lose heart and hesitate. Clearly, the army needed urgent reform and retraining upon their return.

Li Shimin raised his lance and called to Li Xuanba, “Sanlang, lead the others in retreat. Jingde and I will cover the rear. Head for the dense forest fifteen li east of the pass!” Then, to Mingyu behind him, he said, “Boy, go with your master!”

Mingyu, already swept up in the heat of battle, felt his blood boiling. Though he hated being too young to help, he cherished the chance to fight alongside Li Shimin. When his uncle told him to leave, he clung to Li Shimin’s waist, protesting, “No! A true man would rather die than flee the field. I want to charge with you, Second Uncle!”

Li Shimin was surprised. “You’re not afraid to die, boy?”

Mingyu, emboldened by his uncle’s question, replied loudly, “You, Second Uncle, are the commander—the Prince of Qin! If you dare to charge, why should I be afraid? With you to protect me, I’d go through fire and blade!”

Li Shimin laughed heartily. “Well said! Let’s show them what we’re made of!” Turning to Xuanba, he called, “Go on ahead and make preparations. With me here, your disciple will come to no harm!”