Chapter 85: Command at the Front Line (Part One)

Compared to the Western Liang army, whose morale had soared, the troops of Cao’s army were restless and uneasy.

Yet, at this moment, both sides were already locked in combat, arrows raining from above, the battle raging in full force. Under the protection of his personal guards, Cao Cao had retreated to the riverbank, his gaze sharp and piercing as he swept his eyes across the entire battlefield.

The appearance of enemy reinforcements in the distance seemed not to trouble him in the slightest. He stood on a higher spot along the riverbank, wholly focused on the unfolding battle.

It was now that the brilliance and formidable military acumen of a master tactician truly came to the fore.

The situation on the battlefield was clear: though the Western Liang army’s spirits had recovered, they could not withstand Cao’s army on the main front, suffering a series of defeats.

However, Shen Chen and Zhang Xiu’s two thousand archers atop the hill continually rained arrows on Cao’s troops. In order to deal with them, Cao’s sword-and-shield men were unable to fully concentrate on Zhang Xiu, leaving gaps between the front and rear.

For instance, the troops at the front would charge against the Western Liang army, drive them back, and prepare to pursue their victory. Yet, the rear units, forced to deal with the archers, could not reinforce the advance, resulting in hard-won gains being quickly relinquished and the troops compelled to retreat. The Western Liang army would then press forward again, a cycle that had repeated three times already.

“Minister of Works,”

A guard at his side spoke, “The enemy on the hill keeps harassing us with arrows, making it impossible to eliminate Zhang Xiu.”

“Elder brother, let me go!”

Cao Chun, having wiped away his tears, his face contorted with emotion, shouted to Cao Cao, “I’ll lead men up there and kill them all!”

Cao Cao turned with reddened eyes and roared, “Silence!”

Cao Chun froze, tears streaming anew, and tugged his horse’s reins, attempting to rush up the mountain alone, only to be seized and bound by Cao Cao’s order.

The commotion caused by Cao Chun at the riverbank quickly subsided. Cao Cao ignored him, his attention still fixed on the battlefield.

Han Hao, at his side, asked, “Minister of Works, should we really ignore the enemy on the hill? Their reinforcements will arrive soon; if we keep delaying, it could be disastrous for us.”

The terrain on the left bank of the swift river was not particularly complex: to the left of the bridge lay hills and several small mountains, with villages and fields further out. Zhang Xiu was arrayed on the road directly opposite the bridge.

To the right of the bridge, a vast plain stretched, offering an unobstructed view. Thus, Gan Ning’s reinforcements, though visible to Cao’s army, were still some distance away.

The deadlock hinged on Zhang Xiu’s formation on the road, supported and suppressed by the hilltop archers, making it difficult for Cao’s army to break through swiftly.

If Gan Ning’s reinforcements reached them, attacking from the flank, Cao’s army would find itself encircled on three sides and face inevitable defeat.

Yet Cao Cao remained utterly unflustered, calmly observing the battlefield. He said to Han Hao, “They would very much like us to attack that hillside. There are thousands atop it, archers holding the high ground. Without double their numbers, how could we hope to annihilate them?”

“So what should we do now?”

Han Hao hesitated. Cao Cao’s reasoning was sound—the enemy held the hill with over three thousand men and the advantage of elevation; attacking them would require at least six or seven thousand troops.

But their forces were all engaged on the main front. If six or seven thousand were dispatched, the main battlefield would be left exposed, allowing Zhang Xiu to strike at Cao Cao himself.

Thus, dividing their forces was impossible, and it was nearly impossible to deal with the enemy atop the hills at this moment.

Cao Cao waved his hand, “No need to hurry. Their arrows can only reach so many of our men. I am searching for a weak point in Zhang Xiu’s lines. If I find one, Yuan Si, take your troops and break them from the flank. Defeat Zhang Xiu’s army first, then deal with the reinforcements.”

“Yes, sir.”

Han Hao bowed in acceptance.

The situation on the battlefield remained clear.

The archers on the hills did not inflict heavy casualties on Cao’s army.

First, the hills were distant, and the closer area was the main battlefield between Zhang Xiu and Cao’s army. To avoid friendly fire, the archers could only shoot at a high angle to harass the rear of Cao’s forces.

Second, the battle was not a full-scale engagement. The road was narrow, with woodland to the left of the bridge and plains to the right, dotted with fields and villages. The main fighting took place on the main road, with only the vanguard units—perhaps one or two thousand on each side—actually engaged.

Thus, most of Cao’s troops and the Western Liang army were arrayed in the rear and on the right-side plains, observing the battle and not yet involved.

Cao Cao had no intention of retreating.

If they retreated, the bridge’s narrowness would prevent the passage of large numbers in a short time. Even in orderly withdrawal, it would take at least half an hour.

Moreover, the enemy would not stand idly by as they crossed.

With seven or eight thousand men on this side of the bridge, if Zhang Xiu and Shen Chen launched a joint attack during the withdrawal, the troops would panic, causing congestion and fighting over the road, resulting in chaos throughout the ranks.

Once Gan Ning arrived, coordinating with Zhang Xiu and Shen Chen, Cao’s army would risk total annihilation.

Cao Cao understood well that retreat was not an option. He needed to seize an opportunity to break Zhang Xiu’s forces on the main front. With the enemy losing a portion of their main troops, whether they chose to withdraw or continue attacking, he could respond calmly.

As a skilled commander, Cao Cao grew increasingly composed, his gaze scanning the battlefield until he noticed a slight disarray in Zhang Xiu’s left rear formation.

Zhang Xiu’s left rear was in fact Cao’s army’s right front. Only someone as keen as Cao Cao would notice this subtle anomaly.

Zhang Xiu’s formation had spread out, and as Cao’s forces pressed forward, the Western Liang troops faltered and retreated. The front’s withdrawal drew the rear units, which had intended to charge, back as well, causing the rearmost units to waver. The formation grew unstable.

Seeing this, Cao Cao seized the fleeting opportunity and instructed Han Hao, “Yuan Si, their rear right is unstable. Lead two thousand men and break through their right flank.”

“Yes!”

Han Hao immediately went to carry out the order.

Meanwhile, Shen Chen, standing atop the hill, noticed the movements in the rear of Cao’s forces.

He saw a general on horseback emerge from the ranks, heading toward the right flank of Cao’s army—the left flank of their own, in the direction of the plain.

Behind him followed about one to two thousand soldiers, moving onto the plain and launching an offensive toward Zhang Xiu’s left flank.

Such tactics—attacking the enemy from both wings—have appeared countless times in the annals of warfare, from the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, through the Roman Empire, to the era of Napoleon, and the world wars. Endless examples.

Even if Shen Chen had not eaten pork, he had at least seen pigs run.

At worst, he had watched “Drawing Sword” and learned something.

For example, Li Yunlong’s attack on Chang Nai Chao’s Temporary Seventh Division used flanking maneuvers. Li Yunlong sent men to attack from the side, and before Chang Nai Chao’s artillery could form up, they stormed the headquarters and captured him.

Seeing this unfold, Shen Chen immediately understood that Cao Cao intended to attack Zhang Xiu’s troops from the flank.

A battlefield is not simply a matter of everyone charging together; it is divided into numerous corps and formations, with large numbers of troops on the periphery.

In large-scale warfare, both sides do not merely camp and stare at each other across hundreds of meters.

Rather, a myriad of tactics must be employed flexibly, seeking out the enemy’s vulnerabilities to strike.

Yet this battle was a small-scale engagement, a clash of ten to twenty thousand, so the troops were concentrated, making the battlefield appear more densely packed.

This tested the commanders’ ability to direct and react in the midst of combat.

Shen Chen’s first experience commanding a battlefield had been against Yue Jin, where he held an absolute advantage and quickly routed Yue Jin with tactics.

But now his opponent was Cao Cao, a master tactician.

If he were a skilled commander, facing Cao Cao, he would immediately deploy numerous tactics and vie for supremacy on the battlefield.

Shen Chen, however, lacked experience in battlefield command. Though quick-witted, he fell short in actual deployment.

No one is born a battlefield genius. His first instinct was not to counter or leverage Cao Cao’s attack for other preparations, but simply to patch the holes.

“General Zhang, beware of Cao’s army assaulting your left flank!”

Shen Chen shouted through a loudspeaker.

Zhang Xiu, hearing this from below, quickly scanned the field and spotted Han Hao leading troops toward his left flank, promptly making arrangements.

Yet, his Western Liang soldiers, though fierce and adept at fighting Liu Biao, were still less disciplined than Cao’s army.

A bout of chaos only further disrupted their formation, and in their rush, two thousand men were hastily pulled out to defend.

Witnessing this, Shen Chen realized the Western Liang army’s execution ability was mediocre. Execution ability means rapid adjustment.

For example, when the enemy attacks your flank, you must redeploy defenses in short order.

Speed determines victory; if the enemy reaches your rear flank in five minutes, you must complete your adjustment in four.

If you take six minutes,

Then, unfortunately, before your formation is ready, the enemy will have already disrupted your lines from the flank, leading to the collapse of your army.

Realizing that Zhang Xiu could not adjust in time, Shen Chen immediately said to Deng Zhao beside him, “This is bad. Uncle, take a thousand of our men down the hill, circle to General Zhang’s left rear and help him defend.”

“Can we make it in time?” Deng Zhao worried. They were on Zhang Xiu’s direct right, nearly a mile from his left formation. Was it feasible?

Shen Chen replied grimly, “Even if we can’t, we must go. At least we can help stabilize his rear formation.”

“I understand.”

Deng Zhao immediately whistled—a common communication tool for small units in ancient times. Though not as far-reaching as horns or drums, it was more discreet and piercing, ideal for groups of several hundred or a thousand.

Once the order was given, the messengers of Huangmen Pavilion around them whistled in succession, and over a thousand archers who had been firing quickly rushed toward Deng Zhao.

In total, fifteen hundred men. Deng Zhao had Shen Zhen lead five hundred to protect Shen Chen, while he himself led a thousand downhill, swiftly moving to reinforce Zhang Xiu’s left rear.

(End of chapter)