Chapter 523 Strangling the Throats of the Nomads

As soon as it was heard that he had a plan, everyone in the tent instantly became elated. This was all thanks to the confidence that Lin Wanrong had instilled in everyone after their initial victory.

"What strategy do you have? Speak quickly!" Xu Zhiqing was overjoyed and urged him impatiently.

Lin Wanrong stared intently at the map and calmly said, "In our Great Hua, there's an old saying: 'Before the troops and horses move, provisions go ahead.' The Turkic people have over 200,000 troops stationed in Wuyuan. Their daily consumption of food and fodder is certainly not a small number. Unlike us, who can rely on Xingqing Prefecture for supplies, as far as I know, the Turks’ provisions are almost entirely transported from the great plains. We might consider focusing our efforts on this aspect."

The idea of raiding supplies was not new; it had been a classic tactic throughout history. What troubled everyone was how to achieve the element of surprise in such an operation.

Yu Zongcai surreptitiously glanced at Xu Zhiqing and shook his head, "General Lin, you probably do not understand the habits of the nomads well. Turkic people are raised on horseback and excel in archery. When they march, each soldier carries their rations of dried meat with them. At most, each can carry supplies for up to two weeks. Finding a place to ambush their supplies might prove difficult."

Everyone in the tent, having fought against the nomads for many years, was well aware of their habits and nodded in agreement.

Xu Zhiqing smiled and said, "Brother Yu, you misunderstand General Lin's meaning. It's true that the nomads carry their rations when they move rapidly. A ten-day supply is more than enough for them to fight a major battle. However, this time is different. Our army's major victory at Wuyuan was completely unexpected for the Turkic people, making Lu Dongzan exceedingly cautious. He will only advance after thoroughly scouting the situation ahead, slowing down their march considerably. From Wuyuan to here, they will need at least three more days. Including the time it took them to rush from the plains to Wuyuan, that means they have consumed at least half of their supplies before even facing our main force at Helan Mountain Pass. If you were Lu Dongzan, what would you do?"

"Ah, the advisor means that to cross Helan Mountain, Lu Dongzan must gather supplies from deep within the plains!" Zuo Qiu suddenly understood.

Lin Wanrong smiled and nodded, casting an approving glance at him.

"This is the nomads' inherent weakness," Xu Zhiqing continued her analysis, "In their past conquests of other tribes, they fought in the vast plains, where provisioning was more flexible and thus not as critical. But this time is vastly different. Though the nomads are brave, they have never assembled such a large force of over 300,000. This is their first large-scale battle, and it's aimed at the Central Plains, requiring a long duration. They will inevitably fall short in various aspects. A campaign of this scale is not only a test of the courage of the soldiers on both sides but also a significant contest of national power. I can say with certainty that, before capturing Xingqing Prefecture, these 300,000 Turkic people will not get a single grain from our Great Hua. Therefore, logistical support will be their weakest link."

Xu Zhiqing spoke in a well-organized manner, her analysis both sensible and logical. The generals felt reassured. While it was true that the nomads had greater numbers and strength, one should not overlook their weaknesses.

Lin Wanrong shrugged helplessly, "After hearing Miss Xu's analysis, I suddenly regret something—I cut down 5,000 war horses in Wuyuan. Haven't I just provided the nomads with a lot of fodder?"

Laughter erupted in the tent. Zuo Qiu slapped him on the shoulder and said, "No matter. Five thousand horses are but a drop in the ocean for the nomads' 300,000 mouths—it's barely a meal. But the shadow you've left in their hearts, General Lin, may very well last a lifetime."

Lin Wanrong burst into hearty laughter, reinvigorating the atmosphere in the tent.

Yu Zongcai interjected skeptically, "Even if Lu Dongzan plans to amass a lot of supplies, it will take place in their rear grasslands. With hundreds of thousands of nomads stretching before our army, how are we to sprout wings and fly over for a surprise attack?"

Xu Zhiqing nodded, "Brother Yu is correct, and this is a point that puzzles me as well. But what is General Lin's plan for this surprise attack?"

It was indeed a serious question. Breaking through an army of hundreds of thousands of Turkic soldiers seemed an impossible task. All eyes turned to Lin Wanrong, waiting for his response.

Lin Wanrong walked over to the map, staring at it intently for a while before letting out a deep sigh. "Advisor Xu, generals, what do you make of the Helan Mountain range?"

His abrupt question left everyone stunned. What was there to make of the Helan Mountains? Wasn't it just a vast mountain range? It ran north-south, forming a natural barrier between the Great Hua Empire and the Turks and dividing two different cultures. What else was there to see?

"Helan Mountain's peaks soar into the sky, the highest point known as Ebogeda (3556 m), the tallest peak in the northwest of the Great Hua empire, spanning eight hundred miles, grand and magnificent. From its peak, one can overlook the Yellow River loop and the Ordos Plateau to the east, and to the west, the slope steepens before leveling off, leading directly into the Alxa Plateau (southernmost portion of the Gobi desert)," Xu Zhiqing meticulously explained, marking the spots on the map with red ink as she spoke.

Lin Wanrong gave her a grateful smile, then refocused on the map, his expression so intent that he seemed almost entranced.

Advisor Xu, who stood closest to him, noticed his eyes sparkling as he muttered to himself, "Driving long carts, breaking through the Helan Mountain pass. With great ambition, I feast on the flesh of nomads and drink the blood of the Huns. Helan, magnificent Helan—"

‘He's reciting poetry again!’ Xu Zhiqing's heart pounded wildly, her cheeks flushed as she softly asked, "What are you saying?"

Lin Wanrong's gaze swept over everyone before he burst into laughter. "Helan is a magnificent place. Not only shall we defend Helan Mountain, but we shall also strike out from here."

Strike out? Miss Xu stared at the map in silence for a moment before her expression dramatically changed. "You...you intend to traverse Helan Mountain from east to west, invading the Alxa Plateau?"

Her words struck everyone like a bolt of lightning, and the faces of all the generals present changed drastically. The Helan Mountain range was naturally treacherous, with only two major valleys running north-south, formed over thousands of years and extremely difficult to traverse. The east-west axis, on the other hand, was a seemingly endless range of towering peaks and virgin forests. The climate was harsh and variable, with strong winds at the base and heavy snow at the peak. There had never been a passable route through it. Traversing Helan Mountain from east to west? It was pure fantasy.

"Is it truly impossible?" Lin Wanrong wore a calm expression, his finger pointing directly at the northwest base of the Helan Mountains. "Advisor Xu, is this place not called Bayanhot (Modern Alxa League)?"

Xu Zhiqing clenched her teeth before nodding. "Yes, this is Bayanhot, located northwest of the Helan Mountains. The plains are expansive, famous for their Tan sheep. The wool of these sheep is finely colored and curly, resembling clouds—hence the famous 'Thousand-Gold Furs.' Most of the Turkic people's supplies are circulated from here."

"It is precisely the spot!" Lin Wanrong pounded his palm onto the map. "The Turkic people's lifeline!"

The tent was silent as a tomb. After a long while, Zuo Qiu finally spoke, "Brother Lin, have you lost your mind? The Turkic people intentionally placed their supply base at Bayanhot, precisely because they know it’s near the northwest base of the Helan Mountains. Do you know why they are so confident?"

"I would like to hear more," Lin Wanrong gestured respectfully.

Zuo Qiu shook his head, sighing, "Not only because this area is rich in resources and extremely close to Wuyuan, but more importantly, crossing the Helan Mountains from east to northwest has always been a dead-end. No one has ever survived it. If not for this, the Turkic people would have invaded long ago. They are even more assured than we are in setting up their supply station here!"

"Exactly, it's an absolute dead-end," Yu Zongcai added. "General Lin, are you so eager to be a hero that you've gone mad? If this route is open, what natural barriers would be left between us and the Turkic?"

Lin Wanrong exhaled deeply, "Brother Yu, the more impossible a thing seems, the more likely it is to offer a breakthrough. Have you walked this road yourself to claim it's a dead-end?"

"Countless ancestors have said the same thing, can they all be wrong?" Yu Zongcai snorted.

"Our ancestors weren't necessarily right about everything. Roads are made by walking," Lin Wanrong sighed.

The tent grew eerily quiet; even the sound of a pin dropping would have been clearly heard. All eyes turned towards Xu Zhiqing. She stared at the map, biting her red lips in prolonged silence before softly asking, "How confident are you in taking this route?"

Lin Wanrong shook his head solemnly, "I have no certainty. The only thing I can be sure of is that there must be a passable route along the east-west base of the Helan Mountains. We just haven't found it yet."

His earnest demeanor perplexed Xu Zhiqing. She knew Lin Wanrong well enough to understand that he was usually dishonest about minor matters but absolutely sincere regarding major issues. Especially at such a crucial juncture concerning the fate of their nation, he would not speak without reason. "Then how can you be so sure?" she lowered her voice, almost reproachfully.

Lin Wanrong didn't know how to explain. Should he say that he had once toured the place? That there were, in fact, several east-west corridors through the Helan Mountain Range? Even in this world, he wasn't sure they would work.

Lin Wanrong shook his head with a bitter smile, "It's not that I'm certain; it's that we are compelled by circumstances. If any of you can think of a better plan, I'd rather not risk traveling through the deep forests and mountains."

The tent fell silent once more. Indeed, as Lin Wanrong had said, their army was stationed at the base of the Helan Mountains. The Turkic forces were steadily advancing, making a bloody battle inevitable. If they couldn't think of another strategy, they would have to fight the Turkic people to the end.

Xu Zhiqing also knew the weight of this situation. After a long period of silence, she finally sighed, "Let's conclude today's discussion here. I need to think this through."

Everyone sensed her dilemma and began to take their leave. Lin Wanrong had barely walked a few steps when Miss Xu tugged at him. "Wait a moment."

"Miss Xu, is there something you need?" Lin Wanrong turned back with a grin, seeing that the others had moved some distance away.

Without saying a word, Xu Zhiqing handed him a letter from her robe. Lin Wanrong opened it and glanced inside. The first page featured a delicate drawing of a woman sitting in a pavilion, her brows furrowed in contemplation. She was visibly pregnant, embodying a young married woman filled with longing.

"Qingxuan!" Lin Wanrong was overjoyed. This was a letter from home, and the first page featured a self-portrait by Miss Xiao Qingxuan. Though she hadn't written a single word, this simple drawing conveyed a thousand sentiments.

The next page revealed another woman, seated in a carriage, lifting the curtain to reveal a captivating face. Her eyes held a trace of melancholy mingled with resolve. A bright red thread danced around her ankle, peeking out from the carriage.

"Eldest Miss!" Lin Wanrong was elated once again. This was another self-portrait, this time by Xiao Yuruo, clearly depicting her deep-rooted yearning amidst arduous journeys.

The following pages featured drawings by Ning'er, Qiaoqiao, Yushuang, and Xian'er—each of his wives had drawn a self-portrait. Though each was unique in its setting and pose, they perfectly encapsulated their individual personalities and infinite longing.

Ning'er's was especially imaginative; she was lounging on an ivory bed, her expression languid. Wrapped in silk, she barely exposed her tender shoulder. A pale arm stretched out from the quilt, playfully lifting a bright red candle, a soft blush covering her charming face, as if outshining the candlelight.

The letter contained nothing but these portraits, yet they filled him with a warmth that words could not describe. This had to be the most creatively composed letter ever—a stroke of pure genius.

‘Why did Ning'er have to cover herself with the quilt?’ Lin Wanrong grumbled inwardly. His eyes lingered on each portrait for a while, drooling more than he realized.

"Have you finished looking?" Xu Zhiqing's calm voice interrupted his reverie.

Startled, Lin Wanrong quickly wiped his mouth and chuckled, "Yes, yes, I have. Qingxuan and the others are quite good at drawing. The only issue is that they're wearing a bit too much. I'll write them back, suggesting they send a few bathing portraits next time—preferably in a sauna."

A faint blush crept over Xu Zhiqing's face as she softly said, "You have a loving and doting family, something many envy. With the risk of crossing the Helan Mountains and hitting the enemy at their most vulnerable point—are you still willing to go?"