Chapter 147. The Battle of Huanglong Prefecture
Section 1 — The Fortress of the Treasury, Huanglong Prefecture
From afar, Huanglong Prefecture looked like nothing more than a low mound of earth.
But as one drew closer, its true form revealed itself entirely differently.
The fortress did not sit upon the plain—it rose as though the land itself had been lifted and shaped into walls.
The outer wall was thick, built by layering and compacting earth and stone again and again, and upon it remained traces of later reinforcement—wood and packed soil added over the years.
It was the old fortress of Buyeo-bu (扶餘府)*.
A stronghold refined and repaired across long centuries.
*Located in present-day Nong'an County, Changchun, Jilin Province, China. A central region of Manchuria, it served as a strategic hub and a cultural crossroads through the Balhae and Liao periods.
In the past, it had been the center of the Khitan Circuit among the fifteen provinces of Balhae.
A fortress inheriting the legacy of Goguryeo and Buyeo, it stood along a major trade route where traffic never ceased.
After the fall of Balhae, the Liao founder, Emperor Taizu Yelü Abaoji, witnessed a yellow dragon appear here and named it "Huanglong Prefecture."
It became a military stronghold of the northern peoples and a grand city rich in culture.
An octagonal thirteen-story pagoda towered beneath the blue sky, visible even from afar.
Massive walls encircled the city in double layers—inner and outer.
The Book of Jin records that Buyeo always stationed strong forces here to guard against the Khitan.
It was described as the "throat" of Jilin and Ora—a vital choke point.
A moat surrounded the fortress.
The water was murky and deep.
Whenever the wind blew, ripples formed, shaking the reflection of the walls.
Beyond it, the walls were riddled with countless openings—
places for arrows to fly.
There were more places for arrows than for men to stand.
The inner wall (內城) stood apart from the outer wall.
Even if the outer wall fell, the battle would not end.
To breach the fortress once did not mean victory.
That was the nature of war here.
The gates were layered—outer and inner.
Between them lay a narrow killing space, with soldiers stationed above to strike down anyone who entered.
Those who broke through the first gate would die within.
Huanglong Prefecture was built for that very purpose.
Within, vast stores of provisions were gathered.
Grain collected from across the Liao lands,
silver and silk piled high,
horses and hides moving in and out.
The granaries within were valued more than the walls themselves.
People did not call this merely a fortress.
They called it the lifeline of the state.
Thus, no one dared strike it lightly.
To attack it was to lay a hand upon the heart of a nation.
Flags hung from the ramparts.
They swayed slowly in the wind—
slow, yet unceasing.
The soldiers guarding the walls were quiet.
They spoke little, moved little,
and watched the outside world only with their eyes.
They knew.
If this fortress fell, the spine of the Liao would break.
Far out across the plain, dark specks appeared.
At first, they seemed like dust.
But as time passed, the specks became lines—
and the lines began to move.
The wind moved first.
Then the horses followed.
Flags snapped.
The sound of iron carried on the air.
Jin cavalry.
They did not charge at once.
They halted at a distance.
And they watched the fortress—
long and still,
like beasts choosing their prey.
Yelü Ning, who came up upon receiving the report, showed little concern.
Despite the thousands before him, he trusted in the walls of Huanglong Prefecture.
What could they possibly do?