Standing atop the city wall, Zhang Xin's voice rang out loud and clear:
"If the barbarians can slaughter the Han, why can't the Han slaughter the barbarians?!"
"Wu Yan lost only one son and dares raise an army for revenge? Then today, I—Zhang Xin—will avenge every Han life lost to your hands!"
"Exactly!" Zhang Niujiao roared beside him. "If they can kill us, why can't we kill them?!"
The cry spread like wildfire.
Thanks to days of relentless incitement, the Yellow Turban soldiers already harbored deep hatred toward the Hu tribes. Now, thousands of voices erupted together, shaking the very walls of Yuyang.
"Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!"
The roar echoed across the city.
Some civilians trembled in fear. Others worried about what was to come. But most—especially those who had suffered under the Hu raids—felt their blood surge with excitement.
After so many years, there was finally someone willing to stand up and fight for them.
Morale in the city soared to its peak.
—
Seeing that intimidation had failed, Wu Yan ordered the attack.
With shrill cries, Wuhuan cavalry charged toward the city walls. As they approached, they drew their short bows and began firing upward.
"Shields!" Zhang Xin commanded calmly.
The Yellow Turban soldiers raised their shields in unison, blocking the incoming arrows. These hastily crafted wooden shields, though crude, were more than enough to stop the Wuhuan bone-tipped arrows.
"Return fire!"
Arrows rained down from the walls. Over a dozen Wuhuan riders were struck and tumbled from their horses.
The enemy cavalry rotated in waves—one group firing before retreating, another rushing in to take its place.
Zhang Xin observed briefly, then lost interest.
The Wuhuan bows had limited range—effective in open-field skirmishes, but nearly useless in siege warfare. Against defenders on high walls, they posed little threat.
In truth, the nomadic tribes of this era simply did not know how to properly conduct sieges.
They lacked advanced siege engines—no cloud ladders, no proper rams. Their tactics were crude: shoot arrows, build simple ladders, and try to batter down gates. Against a well-defended city, such methods were ineffective.
History had shown time and again that even tens of thousands of such attackers could fail to breach a city held by only a few thousand defenders.
Satisfied, Zhang Xin handed command of the walls to Zhang Niujiao and returned to the prefectural residence.
He then partially lifted martial law, allowing shops to reopen and civilians to prepare for the upcoming New Year. Life in the city gradually returned to normal.
That day's battle ended decisively: over forty Wuhuan cavalry were killed, while the defenders suffered only minimal losses.
Zhang Xin ordered proper burials for the fallen, treatment for the wounded, and had the victory posted publicly throughout the city to reassure the people.
—
The next day, Wu Yan tried again.
Overnight, the Wuhuan had constructed ladders and crude battering tools. The assault resumed with thunderous noise at the walls.
Yet inside the city, Zhang Xin changed into a white robe and went out strolling with Zhang Ning, Liu Hua, and Wang Meng's family.
The sight astonished the townspeople.
Here was their commander—young, relaxed, even smiling—completely unconcerned by the battle raging outside.
When the guards revealed his identity, the people were first shocked by his youth, then reassured by his composure.
If the commander himself was this calm, what was there to fear?
Confidence spread. People returned home, hanging lanterns and decorations, preparing for the New Year as if no siege existed.
—
For three consecutive days, Wu Yan attacked.
Each time, he was repelled.
By the end, three to four hundred Wuhuan bodies lay beneath the walls—yet they hadn't even come close to breaching the city.
From the fifth day onward, no matter how Wu Yan urged them, the warriors refused to continue the assault.
That night, Tadun and Su Puyan came to his tent.
"King Khan," Tadun said, bowing, "Yuyang cannot be taken. The warriors have lost their will. And the New Year is in two days—please withdraw."
Su Puyan nodded eagerly. "Yes… surely you don't wish to spend the festival freezing out here?"
Wu Yan smiled faintly. "Do not be impatient. I have already contacted Lord Nanlou. He has agreed to send five thousand troops—they should arrive tomorrow."
Tadun shook his head. "Even if he comes, it won't change anything. We are not skilled in siege warfare."
In truth, both men had already achieved their goals. They had gained spoils, shown face, and had no desire to continue risking losses.
Wu Yan saw through them—but this was his last chance.
"How about this," he said. "When Nanlou arrives, we attack for one more day. Regardless of the outcome, I will reward you both further."
Reluctantly, they agreed.
But upon returning to their camps, both secretly ordered their men to slack off the next day.
—
Inside Yuyang, Zhang Niujiao reported the situation.
"You mean they barely attacked today?" Zhang Xin asked.
"Yes," Zhang Niujiao laughed. "They fired a few arrows and retreated. After several days of losses, they've lost their nerve. I think they'll withdraw soon."
Zhang Xin smiled faintly.
Everything had gone exactly as planned.
The execution of the envoy.The deliberate humiliation.The psychological pressure.
All of it had been building toward this moment.
He suddenly stood up, his expression sharpening.
"Send word to all generals," he ordered.
"Gather at the prefect's residence—immediately!"