At dawn the following day, Deji Yundan and his two disciples led the Tibetan vanguard to challenge the Tang forces. Yang Muzhi ordered the Xiliang troops to form the Six Flower Formation to meet the enemy.

　　Deji Yundan, confident in his strategy to break the formation, observed the Tang army once again deploying the Six Flower Formation. Without hesitation, he led his troops in a direct assault. Alarmed by this bold move, Zhao Yong exclaimed, “The Tibetans are many and have already deciphered the Six Flower Formation. What should we do now?”

　　Yang Muzhi smiled confidently. “Fear not! Deji Yundan may understand the Six Flower Formation, but he is unaware of our next move. When the Tibetan army is halfway in, we will suddenly switch to either the Zhuge Eight Trigrams Formation or the Qimen Nine Palace Formation. They will surely be confounded.”

　　As the Tibetan army advanced halfway into the formation, Yang Muzhi, observing from the high tower, waved his flags as the signal. Instantly, the Tang army split into nine distinct groups, each raising banners of different colors.

　　Zhao Yong personally led a team bearing apricot-yellow banners to occupy the position of the Rest Gate. A deputy general, wielding yellow-bordered banners, took the position of the Death Door, while the team with pure white banners secured the position of the Injury Door. Those carrying white-bordered banners occupied the Blockage Door, and the team with pure black banners, along with an unmarked surprise force, shared the position of the Life Door. Another team with black-bordered banners took up the position of the Open Door. Additionally, two unmarked surprise forces were strategically positioned at the Scene Door and the Alarm Door to provide crucial support.

　　Deji Yundan and his disciples led the Tubo vanguard straight into the formation, when suddenly a fierce wind arose. In an instant, sand and stones filled the air, shrouding the sky and earth. The soldiers of the Western Liang Dynasty roared with determination, arrows cascading from the formation like torrential rain. Unexpectedly, three elite units emerged, wielding hook sickle spears aimed precisely at the horses’ legs.

　　Deji Yundan was taken aback as the Tubo troops descended into disarray within the formation, leading to utter chaos and significant losses among their ranks. Seizing the moment, Yang Muzhi directed his generals and soldiers with calculated precision, purposefully creating a strategic gap in the direction of Shanzhou. This cunning maneuver enticed the Tubo forces to break through, seeking an escape route through the perilous Shengmen Pass.

　　Zhao Yong, observing Deji Yundan leading the Tibetan vanguard towards Shanzhou, swiftly turned his horse back towards the city to rendezvous with Yang Muzhi.

　　As they regrouped, Yang Muzhi, while orchestrating the orderly withdrawal of his troops, spoke to Zhao Yong with measured resolve. “Though our Hexi Army lacks in training”, Yang Muzhi began, “Governor Du Xiwang of Shanzhou and Prefect Du of Longyou are both seasoned in warfare. If all goes to plan, Du Xiwang will seize the moment to strike and earn accolades once he witnesses the Tibetan army faltering. Our immediate objective is to disrupt the Tibetan vanguard and undermine their morale. The Longyou Army will manage the ensuing phases. We must retreat promptly to prepare for any potential counterattack from the main Tibetan forces.”

　　Zhao Yong, with a reluctant nod, issued the command for retreat. Meanwhile, Governor Du Xiwang of Shanzhou, observing the turmoil within the Tibetan ranks, swiftly mobilized his forces to encircle and decisively defeat them, securing a resounding victory. The triumphant advance continued unabated, culminating in the establishment of the Weirong Army at the newly captured Tibetan city.

　　Du Xiwang, the great-grandson of the renowned poet Du Fu, epitomized integrity and honor, esteemed for his unwavering principles and esteemed by his peers. Modest yet formidable, he possessed a rare blend of literary acumen and military prowess. Wang Wei extolled Du Xiwang in his poetic tribute, Three coffin-pulling songs for the Late Prefect Du of Xihe Commandery[ Paul Rouzer, The Poetry and Prose of Wang Wei: Volume I.].

　　He departed on a western campaign, riding off into the distant sky;

　　The Yunzhong prefect guarded Beiping.

　　He captured the White Horse generally alive;

　　In succession destroyed the cities of the men with scarred foreheads.

　　Suddenly we suffer from seeing the straw funeral effigies,

　　In vain we hear now of the glory of the emissary with bamboo tallies.

　　Only his commentary on Master Zuo has been left to us;

　　Who now will continue the fame of Bu Shang?

　　The prefect of the metal tally comes back to be buried,

　　Returning together with Shiliu’s wife.

　　Rolling up her robes, we lament her pheasant feather ornaments;

　　Holding our funeral fans, we await cockcrow.

　　By the ceremonial guard the capital citizens are anguished;

　　By hills and streams the teams of horses whinny.

　　Still I hear that the men of Longshang;

　　Face one another and sob for the West-pacifying General.

　　The clay funeral carriage and its straw effigies leave the capital gate;

　　His coffin emerges from the palace’s East Garden.

　　The prefect leaves behind his metal seal of office;

　　His lady has given up her carriage with brocade curtains.

　　Banners turn toward the withered trees;

　　Flutes and drums rise from the cold moor.

　　The trees on his mound ought to fall to the west,

　　For he always thought of the grace granted from the palace watchtowers.

　　Yang Muzhi’s latest accomplishments garnered widespread acclaim among soldiers and officers alike. Privately, many criticized Captain Chen Gang for his narrow focus on superficial tasks, contrasting it with praise for Yang Muzhi’s youthful vigor and exceptional talent. These murmurs eventually found their way to Captain Chen’s ears, leaving him profoundly resentful and disheartened.

　　One evening, Yang Muzhi ventured out for a drink on his horse. Meanwhile, Captain Chen Gang had issued a strict order for Yang Muzhi to draft and submit a memorial to the court before the hour of You (between 5-7 PM). However, despite extensive searches by the soldiers, Yang Muzhi and his horse were nowhere to be found. It wasn't until the hour of Xu (between 7-9 PM) that Yang Muzhi returned.

　　In response to the perceived negligence, Chen Gang accused Yang Muzhi of causing a delay in military affairs. He imposed severe punishment, subjecting Yang Muzhi to twenty heavy blows and demoting him to serve on the frontier at the Jumishan post in Yizhou.

　　“This memorial is not an urgent report, but a routine one,” Zhao Yong hastily interjected in defense of Yang Muzhi. “Even if it were required before the hour of You, it would still have been dispatched to the court by courier early the following morning. Captain, your order was simply to ensure Yang Muzhi had it prepared by tonight, which would not have caused any delay in military affairs.”

　　Chen Gang erupted in anger, his voice cutting through the tense air. “Zhao Yong! Your recent victories do not grant you the privilege to defy military orders. Your actions sow discord among the troops. I hereby sentence you to a half-year pay cut. Now, leave and say no more!”

　　Yang Muzhi’s body was severely lacerated by the twenty heavy blows, his skin marred with bruises and welts. It was a pitiful sight—a mere scholar, unaccustomed to such brutal punishment, enduring such hardship. After the grievous beating, he set out for Jumishan in Yizhou the next day.

　　The journey was long and grueling, made all the more arduous by the sweltering summer heat. His festering wounds caused him unbearable pain, each step a new agony. By the time he reached Jumishan, he was barely conscious, eventually succumbing to a high fever that left him unconscious for several days. Fortunately, his youth and resilience spared him from a premature death, allowing him to recover slowly from the ordeal.

　　In early autumn, General Ge Jiayun, the Jiedushi of Qiuxi, launched a campaign against the Tukhushe Khan, Tuhuoxian. Commanding a formidable force of twenty thousand troops from Hanhai, Tianshan, and Yiwu, Ge Jiayun prepared for battle.

　　Upon learning that Yang Muzhi had been demoted to Yizhou, Ge Jiayun saw potential in Yang Muzhi's strategic acumen. Believing that he could be of great assistance, Ge Jiayun personally sought out Yang Muzhi to seek his counsel on how to defeat the enemy.

　　Yang Muzhi, enduring his pain, struggled to rise and bowed to Ge Jiayun. “I am willing to offer a strategy to repel the enemy”, he said, “but you must not reveal that the plan came from me, lest it brings harm upon me.”

　　Ge Jiayun, puzzled, quickly urged Yang Muzhi to lie back and rest. “Why do you say this, Advisor Yang?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

　　Yang Muzhi replied, “The tallest tree in the forest is sure to be blown down by the wind! It was precisely because I twice devised formations to defeat the Tibetans that I was demoted to this place. As the saying goes, ‘Achieve success, gain fame, then retire’—this is the law of the Nature. I hope the you General can understand and forgive my request.”

　　Ge Jiayun sighed and said, “So be it. But in this way, it truly wrongs you, Advisor Yang.”

　　Ge Jiayun, adhering to Yang Muzhi’s strategy, launched a formidable assault on Suyab City, resulting in a decisive defeat of the Tukhushe forces and the capture of Tuhuoxian Khan.

　　Encouraged by this victory, Ge Jiayun, again following Yang Muzhi’s counsel, dispatched two surprise detachments to execute a sudden strike on Talas City, successfully capturing the Heixing Khan. With the enemy leaders subdued and their forces scattered, the Tang army advanced unopposed, entering Ye Jian City in triumph.

　　After the triumph, Yang Muzhi counseled Ge Jiayun, “Now that the Tang army has captured Suyab City, Ye Jian City, and Talas City, the inhabitants are subjects of the Tang Dynasty. General, I advise issuing an order forbidding our troops from disturbing the populace. We should gather and resettle the displaced people, and restore order to the Bukhara region.”

　　Following the successful execution of Yang Muzhi’s strategy, Ge Jiayun’s actions earned significant renown for the Tang army in the western frontier. Emperor Xuanzong duly recognized his achievements and promoted him to the esteemed position of Jiedushi (Military Governor) of Hexi and Longyou.

　　In December of that year, Ge Jiayun journeyed from Qiuxi to assume his new command in Hexi and Longyou. However, amidst the transition in leadership, the Tibetan forces seized the opportunity to regroup and mounted a fierce counterattack. They besieged Dahua County, perpetrated a massacre of its inhabitants, and captured Shibaocheng.

　　After Shibaocheng fell to the Tibetan forces, their military momentum surged. Ge Jiayun, newly appointed as Jiedushi of Hexi and Longyou, found himself grappling with unfamiliar military affairs in the region, hastily preparing for battle.

　　Ge Jiayun lamented to himself, “It’s unfortunate that Yang Muzhi is so far away in Yizhou, over two thousand li (one thousand km) from Shibaocheng. Distant water cannot extinguish nearby fire. If only I could seek his counsel on how to repel the enemy."

　　The Tibetan army proved formidable, overpowering Ge Jiayun’s forces. Despite several defeats and significant losses of troops and commanders, Ge Jiayun was eventually reassigned.

　　Meanwhile, Yang Muzhi remained stationed at Jumishan in Yizhou. He played the qin (Chinese zither) and sang: “Awaken the Orioles, do not let them cry on the branches. Their cries startle me from my dreams, Unable to reach the west of Liao.”

　　This song was “Yizhou Song”, composed by Ge Jiayun himself.

　　The bleak terrain of Jumishan makes Yang Muzhi reminiscent of the vibrant days spent with his parents in Luoyang, the bustling eastern capital.

　　In the winter of 735 AD, Luoyang was abuzz with life, a sharp contrast to the desolation of Jumishan. December 24th marked Prince Shou’s wedding procession, a grand event that filled every corner of the city with anticipation and festivity. The entire populace of Luoyang turned out to witness and celebrate the marriage, enthralled by the occasion and its significance.

　　Prince Shou, whose mother was Empress Wu Huifei, had risen to prominence following the passing of Empress Wang. Emperor Xuanzong’s favor towards Wu Huifei made Prince Shou a prominent figure in the capital, surpassing even the Crown Prince, Li Ying, thanks to his mother's influence.

　　Li Mao, known as Prince Shou, was in his prime—distinguished, elegant, and boasting a radiant complexion. He was dressed in a splendid red ceremonial robe embellished with the motif of qilin beasts. Accompanied by an entourage and riding in a chariot adorned with imperial jade, Prince Shou departed from his residence early in the morning to proceed to Yang Xuanzong’s palace for his wedding ceremony with his principal wife.

　　Emperor Xuanzong personally appointed Li Linfu and Chen Xilie as the chief and deputy envoys for the formal investiture ceremony at the Yang family’s residence. This occasion marked Yang Muzhi’s first personal encounter with Prince Shou, a royal of similar age whose charisma left a deep impression on him. Despite being kept at a distance by layers of guards, Yang Muzhi silently pondered, “I wonder what kind of talent the Concubine Yang possesses to capture the discerning eye of Empress Wu Hui. It’s extraordinary that Empress Wu Hui could persuade the Emperor to send such prominent ministers as Li Linfu and Chen Xilie for the investiture.”

　　As the procession escorting the groom, Li Mao, arrived at the doorstep of Yu Huan’s home, the lights at the Yang residence shimmered with exceptional brilliance that evening. Yet, within Yu Huan’s heart, emotions swirled. Her groom, a handsome young man of her own age, was none other than the esteemed Prince Shou, commanding great power and influence. Despite this, nostalgia for Huang Dage, her childhood sweetheart, tugged at her heartstrings.

　　In the renowned kingdom of Tianfu, Shuzhou, Chengdu is hailed as “Yangzhou No 1, Yi Zhou tightly follows”. Du Fu wrote a poem praising it, saying:

　　A good rain knows its appointed time, right in spring it brings things to life.

　　It enters the night unseen with the wind and moistens things finely, without a sound.

　　Over wilderness paths, the clouds are all black, a boat on the river, its fire alone bright.

　　At daybreak look where it’s wet and red —the flowers will be heavy in Brocade City.[ Prof. Stephen Owen (Harvard University) From The Poetry of Du Fu, re-posted under the CCA-NCND 3.0 license.

　　]

　　At this time, Chengdu is in the season of ripe lychees, truly epitomized by:

　　“Near the Jinjiang River, the western smoke and waters are green, Fresh rain on the mountain peaks, ripe lychees are seen. Along the bridge for miles, many taverns abound, travelers prefer to stay where they are found.”

　　A youthful couple browsed the market stalls, selecting lychees. The boy, around seventeen, possessed striking features with bright eyes and a handsome countenance. His companion, about sixteen, exuded captivating beauty—charming and delicate, akin to a blossoming flower.

　　Speaking in the local Shuzhou dialect, the boy addressed her affectionately, “Huan’er, you’ve always adored lychees. Shall we get more and venture to Hu people (A derogatory name of ethnic minorities in ancient China)’s tavern across the street? We can indulge in Hu-style pastries, enjoy the Hu dancers afterward, and savor our lychees. What say you?”

　　The girl pouted playfully, “I thought you were buying lychees because I love them, but it turns out you're plotting to use lychees as an excuse to watch the Hu dancers. What’s so special about those Hu dancers anyway? Are they prettier than me? If you want to watch them, go alone.”

　　Quickly realizing his misstep, the boy apologized, “My dear Huan’er, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Those Hu dancers with their blonde hair and blue eyes, what’s so special about them? They’re just... terribly ugly.”

　　The girl smiled slightly, her lips curling up. “Look at you, getting all anxious. I was just teasing. I don’t like Hu pastries. How about we go to that place up ahead for some Bromanqing noodles and rabbit heads? They also sell Xiao family’s wontons. We went there last time, and you loved them.”

　　The boy nodded eagerly.

　　The girl’s name was Yang Yuhuan, daughter of Yang Xuanyan, the registrar of Shuzhou. The boy was Huang Mengliang, son of the chief historian of Shu Prefecture. They had grown up together, sharing everything and delighting in each other’s company.

　　The next day, Huang Mengliang visited Yang Yuhuan again, eager to share a new composition. “I’ve recently composed a new piece,” he said, “and I would love to perform it with you.” Yang Yuhuan, glancing at the sheet music, smiled and began to play the konghou, while Huang Mengliang accompanied her on the jade flute.

　　As Yang Yuhuan played the konghou, she sang:

　　Silk from Wu and paulownia from Shu in high autumn, clouds gather and do not flow in the empty mountains;

　　Wu silk and Shu tong in high autumn arrayed,

　　In empty mountains the clouds coagulate but do not flow.

　　The Jiang princess weeps at the bamboos, the pure maid is distressed,

　　Li Ping in the central kingdom plays the harp.

　　Kunshan jade shattered, a phoenix calls,

　　The lotus weeps in the dew, the fragrant orchid laughs.

　　Before the twelve gates the cold light melts,

　　Twenty-three strings move the purple emperor.

　　At the place where Nüwa smelted stones to patch the sky,

　　The stones crack and the sky startles and sends down autumn rain.

　　Dreams enter the sacred mountains to instruct a divine woman,

　　Old fish leap waves, lean dragons dance.

　　The essence of Wu does not sleep, leaning on a cassia tree,

　　Exposed feet flying askew, soaking the cold hare[ Adopted translation by Stephen Owen of 《李凭箜篌引》.

　　].

　　Huang Mengliang’s flute melody was clear and melodious, winding and turning, sometimes high, sometimes low, sometimes soft, and sometimes loud. When it reached the lowest point, after a few swirling notes, it descended even further, yet each note remained distinctly audible despite being very low and subtle.

　　After their performance, Yang Yuhuan smiled and said, “Brother Huang, this piece is truly wonderful, its melody lingering in the air for days. Someday, allow me to choreograph a dance for this music. What do you think?”

　　Huang Mengliang smiled warmly, his heart brimming with delight. “I’m glad you appreciate it, Huan’er. Perhaps you could choreograph a dance to accompany it; that would elevate it even further. I’ve been pondering, what if we were to select an auspicious day and invite my father to your residence to discuss a proposal of marriage?”

　　Yang Yuhuan’s cheeks instantly flushed a rosy hue, accentuating her already captivating beauty. With a playful rebuke, she teased, “Brother Huang, you are incorrigible. We were immersed in discussions of music and dance—why insert such notions suddenly? If you persist in such talk, I may have to cease conversing with you altogether.”

　　Several days later, Yang Yuhuan’s uncle returned to Shu Prefecture from Luoyang to visit his family. Upon learning of Yang Yuhuan’s father’s passing and her mother’s solitary efforts to raise her, he was overcome with sympathy. He approached Yang Yuhuan’s mother, conveying his heartfelt wish to bring Yang Yuhuan to Luoyang under his care.

　　Please stay tuned for the next chapter to find out what plans Huang Mengliang makes after learning about this situation.