Chapter Ninety: The Whistle Clears the Way

It was the hour of the Boar again.

Inside the Song army camp in Shunchang City, a thousand elite Song soldiers stood in perfect ranks upon the battlefield, each of them dressed in black night garb from head to toe. Apart from the pair of eyes left uncovered, they seemed to have already melted into the darkness itself.

Above them the sky was choked with heavy clouds, hanging so low it felt as though they might crush the city. Though the night was pitch-black, everyone could still feel the stifling weight of it.

Dark clouds pressed upon the city, and the city seemed ready to collapse.

“Bring them here and hand out the whistles!” Liu Qi ordered, and bamboo whistles were distributed one by one into the hands of the thousand men assigned to the raid.

“Once you reach the enemy camp, use the whistle to find your comrades’ positions. In the dark, you won’t be able to see one another clearly, so don’t strike down your own men by mistake!” Liu Qi told them.

“General, how are we supposed to storm the camp in this blackness?” one soldier asked.

“It’ll rain soon, and there’ll be lightning with it. When the lightning flashes, lie flat on the ground and hide. Use the light to spot the positions of the Jin troops. When the lightning dies, spring up and kill them. The Jin are easy to recognize; any grown man wearing a braid is one of them. Take advantage of the moment when the lightning vanishes and cut them down,” Liu Qi said to the soldiers.

“General, will this really work?” another asked, not entirely convinced.

“When have I, Old Liu, ever deceived you? Go with confidence. If anything seems wrong, withdraw at once. I’ll be right here in camp brewing wine for you, waiting for your return so we can drink together!” Liu Qi said.

He led men with a personal magnetism, with no airs about him, and he was able to blend in with the soldiers as though he were one of them. For that reason, the men all liked him deeply.

After everything had been arranged, the thousand elite Song troops set out. Every one of them was a hardened veteran of the Song army, skilled in martial arts and well suited to a task like a night raid.

A thousand black-clad men moved with light, stealthy steps. If anyone had happened to meet them on the road, he would surely have been frightened half to death. In that garb, they looked almost like ghosts borrowing passage through the living world.

After the time it took to burn half an incense stick, the Song troops quietly arrived near the Jin camp.

At that moment, the Jin camp was still ablaze with light, soldiers patrolling inside with torches in hand.

“Listen to my orders. No one move rashly. The strategist told us to wait until it rains before we act.” This time, leading the detachment from the Zhennan Army was a captain named Big Fei. He raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence, then led the others to crouch behind a mound of earth nearby.

“Big Fei, when exactly is this rain supposed to come? If it doesn’t rain all night, won’t we have come for nothing?” one of the soldiers muttered under his breath.

“Whether it rains or not is Heaven’s business. Why should we fret over that? If it does rain, we charge in and kill a few Jin thieves. If it doesn’t, we go straight back and treat it as a stroll outside. Didn’t the general arrange everything before we left? You should stop worrying over nothing.” Big Fei plucked a blade of grass from the roadside and held it between his teeth, looking rather roguish.

Yet the others all respected him. In an age where strength ruled, Big Fei was the finest fighter among them.

Before long, with a soft patter, the first raindrop fell.

“Damn it, that scholar really did calculate it right,” Big Fei muttered. He had looked down on Wei Nan before, but at that moment he had to admit the scholar was formidable.

“Listen carefully. Prepare to move. Everyone put your bamboo whistle in your mouth. When it’s time to kill, the whistle will sound. When you hit the ground, the whistle stops. Keep your wits about you, and don’t get it backward and lose your own lives!” Big Fei warned them.

Summer rain came quickly. Once the first drops fell, the downpour began in an instant, drumming hard and fast.

With rain coming down so fiercely, the torches could not hold. Before long, every torch outside the Jin camp had been extinguished, and the once-bright camp sank into darkness, blending completely into the night.

“Boss, in this weather the Song army wouldn’t be foolish enough to attack. Braving such heavy rain, those cowards surely won’t come out. Do we even need to keep patrolling?” one soldier asked his superior.

“Come on, let’s take shelter under the tents ahead. In weather like this, as long as the Song troops aren’t fools, they won’t come,” the leader replied.

No sooner had he spoken than a wet, sickening thud sounded, and he was stabbed through.

He lowered his head and saw a sharp sword piercing out through his chest.

“Y-you... who... are you?” the Jin commander struggled to turn his head, trying to see who had killed him, but he would never have that chance.

“Don’t look. It is your Grandpa Song standing here to send you on your way,” Big Fei whispered in his ear.

Hearing that, the Jin soldier coughed up another mouthful of blood and slowly closed his eyes.

A man truly should not be lazy. If he had kept insisting on patrolling, perhaps he would not have died so soon.

The little soldier standing beside him did not escape either; the Song soldiers around him dealt with him as well.

“Attack!” Big Fei shouted, putting the whistle to his lips. At once, a rolling chorus of whistles rang out through the Jin camp from every direction.

Big Fei had deliberately ordered the whistles blown.

By then it was already past the hour of the Rat. Aside from a few Jin soldiers still patrolling outside, the main force of the Jin army had long since gone to sleep.

Big Fei needed to draw them all out of their tents in order to carry out the plan Wei Nan had proposed.

The sudden whistles startled the Jin troops, who had been deep in dreams. They scrambled out of bed in a flurry, and at that moment someone outside shouted at the top of his lungs, “Not good! Not good! The Song army is raiding us! Ah!”

The cry ended in a scream. Clearly, he had already been killed by the Song troops.

This threw the Jin soldiers into panic. Some did not even stop to put on their clothes, only wanting to flee at once. But once they rushed outside, they discovered the world beyond was plunged into darkness, and rain was falling hard.

With a deafening crack, a brilliant bolt of lightning tore open the night sky. Beneath its blinding glare, the Jin soldiers looked around, only to find not a single Song soldier in sight.

The lightning faded, and suddenly another clear, ringing whistle sounded from all around.