Chapter 88: Encounter

Liucheng.

After Li Kong and his group had departed for more than half a day, Gao Huizhen led his troops into the ruined city.

Gazing at the dilapidated city, Gao Huizhen took a deep breath. Who could have imagined that just thirty years ago, this place was a flourishing outpost beyond the frontier, a Chang’an of the North? Tens of thousands of Mohe people had once lived here in peace, leading lives untouched by the troubles of the world.

“General, the city is deserted and the fires have all been extinguished. Shall we rest here for a day?” a soldier interrupted Gao Huizhen’s thoughts.

“No need,” Gao Huizhen replied. “The enemy probably retreated, thinking the harsh weather here would prevent any further pursuit. We’ll head west at once, straight to the pass. This is our only opportunity to earn the trust of the Tang Empire!” Gao Huizhen, worthy of his reputation as a commander, gave the order to press on without hesitation.

...

The heavy snow of Liaodong vanished completely less than two hundred li from the pass. Though the air remained bitingly cold, at least they no longer had to endure the stinging frost of snowflakes striking their faces.

Stepping out from the curtain of snow, Li Kong turned to look at the flurry behind him. Just a hundred meters away, it was as if heaven itself had split the world in two. If he had a camera at that moment, he would not have hesitated to capture the scene and show it off to his friends.

But for now, it would simply be a story to boast of in the future.

Just as Li Kong was about to give the order to move on, the thunder of hooves suddenly rose behind them—at least several thousand riders by the sound of it.

The unexpected development caused Li Kong’s expression to change drastically. He swiftly raised his spear and shouted, “Everyone, halt! Wheel your horses and prepare for battle!”

As he spoke, Li Kong, accompanied by his four deputy generals and a dozen personal guards, rushed to the flanks. When they stood before the rearguard, the figures behind had already become visible.

In the near distance, Gao Huizhen spurred his horse faster at the sight of those hazy figures, delight flickering in his heart as he urged his mount onward. “Gentlemen,” he called, “we have been discarded at will by Yeon Gaesomun. He wishes for us to freeze to death in this snow, then to slaughter our people. Today, we will pledge ourselves to the Tang Empire. One day, Yeon Gaesomun will meet his end, with no grave to shelter his bones. The Tang soldiers are just ahead—follow me, and let us surrender!”

A roar of excitement broke out among his men. Yet it was not surrender to the Tang that thrilled them, but rather the relief of escaping the torment of the snow. The ordeal of riding through those icy wastes had been excruciating; none wished to repeat it.

What’s more, Gao Huizhen spoke the truth: among those who lived in the southern lands or among the Mohe tribes, who had not been marked as a blight to be eradicated by Yeon Taijo? Surrendering to the Tang might yet allow their bloodlines to survive; to return home would mean certain death for their entire people.

Li Kong’s ears twitched. “Did any of you catch what they were saying?” he asked.

All four deputy generals shook their heads. The thunder of hooves was too loud, and the distance too great—there was no way to hear clearly.

“Stay alert, everyone. Be ready for battle at any moment!” Li Kong took a deep breath, driving his spear into the ground as he coldly watched the approaching troops.

The distance between the two parties shrank rapidly, soon less than a hundred paces. Now Li Kong could clearly make out the leader of the opposing force—it was none other than Gao Huizhen, who had escaped from Shanhai Pass last time.

Li Kong’s nerves tightened at the sight. Gao Huizhen was a formidable opponent, and here in the open wilderness, even with two thousand Mohe warriors, a pitched battle against the Goguryeo soldiers would end in a pyrrhic victory at best. With the capital so near, Li Kong was determined to avoid such a costly fight.

But to turn and flee was even less acceptable. He could only grit his teeth and stand firm.

Meanwhile, recognizing Li Kong’s face, Gao Huizhen breathed a sigh of relief. When his horse had closed to within fifty paces, he dismounted and saluted. “General, it has been a long time. Do you still remember me, Gao Huizhen?”

Li Kong was taken aback by Gao Huizhen’s gesture. Glancing at the enemy soldiers as they too dismounted, his mind whirled in confusion, yet his vigilance only increased.

“So it’s General Gao,” Li Kong said, gripping his spear and twisting it slightly. The cold had formed a thin crust of ice on the shaft, which crackled sharply under the pressure of his grip. “Have you come seeking revenge, General Gao?”

Gao Huizhen shook his head, drew his weapon from his waist, and tossed it to the ground. “You misunderstand, General. I have come to surrender, bringing my men with me. I hope you will not bear any grudge over what happened before—I would be deeply grateful.”

“Surrender?”

Li Kong gave a short laugh. “You must be joking, General Gao. You are the son of the southern Naosa, future Naosa and a great general in your own right, commanding tens of thousands. Why would you wish to surrender?”

Gao Huizhen hesitated for a moment, then quickly replied, “You may not be aware, General…”

He then proceeded to outline the political situation within Goguryeo, and recounted the events in Liaodong City just two days prior. The anger in his voice was unmistakably genuine, and as he spoke of Yeon Gaesomun, the murderous intent in his eyes flickered with such intensity that, were he lying, his acting skills would have surpassed even the greatest of film emperors in another life.

Yet it was impossible for Li Kong to trust so easily. Even if Gao Huizhen himself were sincere, could one guarantee that all the ten thousand men behind him shared his resolve?

Sensing Li Kong’s skepticism, Gao Huizhen immediately turned and shouted, “Friends, we have no path of retreat. The Tang are before us. If you trust me, throw down your weapons. We will follow the general into the Tang. Should any of you meet misfortune in the Tang, I, Gao Huizhen, will not survive you!”

“General!” a deputy tried to dissuade him, but Gao Huizhen simply shook his head and fixed him with a resolute glare.

Helpless, the deputy discarded his weapon. The entire force seemed to fall into step, tossing their arms aside and standing by their horses, empty-handed, gazing anxiously at Li Kong, dreading that this Tang general might take their heads as trophies.

“Does this suffice to show my sincerity, General?”

Li Kong wavered. At this distance—just fifty paces—a single charge would shatter the defenseless Goguryeo soldiers, leaving most dead or wounded. Their gesture was, indeed, an act of true submission.

After a moment’s thought, he spoke: “General Gao, you are indeed a hero. However, as a precaution, I cannot avoid subjecting you and your men to some hardship. Please do not resist, or I will have no choice but to draw the sword.”

Without waiting for Gao Huizhen’s response, Li Kong turned to Zhou Han and ordered, “Take a thousand men and bind them all. When we reach Chang’an, we will present them to His Majesty for judgment.”