[Light-screen]
[ With the authority to govern the Hexi and Longyou regions firmly in hand, Zhang Yichao finally unleashed the full extent of his methods.
For a long stretch of time afterward, the central theme of Hexi was simple—and relentless:
For years, the Tibetan slave-owning elite had bled Hexi dry. The land was exhausted, the people broken, livelihoods in ruins. Zhang Yichao did not rush blindly into war; instead, he rebuilt the foundations piece by piece.
He modeled his administration after Zhuge Liang's hydraulic reforms, dredging canals and reopening irrigation channels. Each canal was placed under dedicated management, with clear responsibility and accountability.
He encouraged farmers, herders, and merchants alike—each to return to their craft, each to excel in their own domain, instead of being crushed under forced labor and arbitrary levies.
At the same time, he deliberately revived Tang culture throughout Hexi. Contemporary records describe it succinctly:
"They were instructed in the customs of the Central Plains.
All were transformed and taught virtue;
customs changed entirely."
The Tang people of Hexi were proud of this transformation. They said:
"After a hundred years of wearing foreign dress, we again don cap and robe.
The survivors of ten prefectures have all been pulled from boiling fire."
The Northern Campaign
In the year 856, the Tuyuhun king north of Shazhou attempted a raid.
But upon witnessing Zhang Yichao's power, he abandoned any hope of conquest and tried instead to seize grain and flee.
Zhang Yichao did not allow him to escape.
He personally led his army north in pursuit for over a thousand li, pressing all the way to the borders of the Tuyuhun state.
In this battle, Zhang Yichao's forces were outnumbered, yet he chose to encircle the enemy instead. He himself led the elite cavalry, charging at the forefront, trampling straight into the enemy ranks.
The spirit of the High Tang warrior returned in full display—and it terrified the Tuyuhun.
Though numerous, the Tuyuhun troops had already lost all will to fight. They sought only to break through and flee north, but were shattered by the Tang army fighting one against ten. A record of the time says:
"The barbarians fled in terror, scattering north and south;
the Han generals fought like heroes, one worth a thousand."
Nearly a century after Tang armies had vanished from Hexi, the Tuyuhun once again remembered—
with trembling bodies—what Tang military might meant.
Zhang Yichao executed three Tuyuhun prime ministers before the assembled army, killed several thousand, captured hundreds, and seized thousands of camels, horses, cattle, and sheep.
On the road home, the Guiyi Army sang loudly as they marched, their voices full of joy.
They sang "The Grand Formation Song."
The melody itself has long been lost, surviving only in fragments recorded by Song dynasty scholars. But one line endured:
"Ten thousand miles of campaigning—every man sings the songs of Han."
That line became the truest epitaph for Zhang Yichao's achievements.
That same year, remnants of the Uyghurs and Tibetans in Shazhou rebelled.
Zhang Yichao responded the same way—encirclement and annihilation.
The enemy fled in terror, pursued relentlessly, corpses strewn across fifty li of road. The Guiyi Army seized over ten thousand head of livestock and returned victorious.
Thereafter, any Tangut, Uyghur, or Omo tribe within Hexi that harbored rebellious intent was met with Zhang Yichao's iron fist.
He safeguarded production.
He protected the people.
And he made the might of the Guiyi Army feared once more.
In the end, Zhang Yichao sat firmly in Shazhou:
Foreign states sent envoys from a thousand li away.
Barbarian leaders from all directions came seeking peace.
Former enemies bowed at his steps, offering gold and jade to repair relations.
Fifty years after the annihilation of the White-Haired Army,
Great Tang once again displayed its authority in the Western Regions.]
"So it really is just as the Strategist said," Zhang Fei muttered.
The more he learned of figures like Zhang Yichao, the smaller Zhang Fei felt himself become.
He had never fought the northern tribes. He had followed his elder brother all his life, yet his achievements were modest—and his death, absurd enough to become a joke for posterity.
As for governance? He was utterly lost.
To rule a land of a hundred tribes, to wield both power and benevolence, to make all submit—
to Zhang Fei, this bordered on myth.
"Balanced authority and grace, orderly to the extreme," Pang Tong sighed.
"To be this capable… astonishing."
Then Pang Tong smiled, glancing at Zhuge Liang.
"And yet—though he once compared himself to the Crouching Dragon in youth—
he surpassed the Crouching Dragon."
"At least," Pang Tong added dryly,
"you wouldn't personally lead cavalry and trample enemy formations."
Zhuge Liang shook his head calmly.
Commanding troops was one thing. Personally charging? Absolutely not.
"A fierce general, too…" Guan Yu said slowly.
"Such merit is rare."
He continued:
"Chen Zi once said: five Hu soldiers equal one Han soldier.
Sun Bin said: when fighting away from home, attackers must double defenders."
"For the Guiyi Army to fight outnumbered, take the initiative, encircle cities, and still triumph—
such ferocity is scarcely heard of."
"Perhaps it's the lingering mighty of High Tang," Wei Yan guessed.
Yet even he could not hide his envy.
"To sit calmly in the city, receive barbarian submission, songs, and tribute—
his fame rivals Wei Qing and Huo Qubing."
"That still requires discussion," Huang Zhong said, shaking his head.
"But his bravery? He is certainly a famous general."
In Ganlu Hall
Li Shimin spoke only one word.
"Good."
Then he stood up, laughing:
"Good! Good! Good!"
His headache vanished entirely, his body brimming with energy.
"If Tang frontier generals were all like Zhang Yichao," he said,
"how could the dynasty not last another hundred years?"
Of course, he knew this was only a dream.
His only regret—
"Why The Grand Formation Song?"
He knew that song well. In his early campaigns, he had sung it alongside his soldiers after victory.
But if these were truly warriors of High Tang—
why not sing Tang military music?
"Could it be that my Breaking the Formation Song didn't survive?"
"That's easy," Zhangsun Wuji said smoothly.
"The musicians would be delighted to compose lyrics for Your Majesty's song."
"So that soldiers may sing it when advancing, breaking formations, returning victorious—or missing home."
"Excellent," Li Shimin nodded.
"It should be: Ten thousand miles of campaigning—all sing Tang songs."
"No—" he corrected himself, laughing.
"Ten thousand miles—barbarians all sing Tang songs!"
He laughed loudly. Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui exchanged glances, long accustomed to this.
[Light-screen]
[ Despite his victories and universal submission, Zhang Yichao understood the Guiyi Army's fatal weakness.
Liangzhou.
As long as it remained in Tibetan hands, Hexi's lifeline was severed. Without reopening this artery, population and resources from the Central Plains could never reach Hexi.
Only when Tang civilians flourished again could Tang truly control the region. Only then could the Guiyi Army sustain itself.
But Liangzhou was no ordinary city.
It was Tibet's final stronghold in Hexi—where all defeated armies, remnants, and escaped slaves had gathered.
Yet Zhang Yichao could wait no longer.
After ten years of preparation, he resolved to stake everything on one final battle.
In 858, without any support from Chang'an, Zhang Yichao launched the Liangzhou campaign.
Each county outside the city had to be contested inch by inch. The fighting dragged on for three years, Guiyi soldiers throwing their lives forward one after another.
Only then was a path finally carved to Liangzhou.
In August 861, with only seven thousand men remaining, Zhang Yichao issued his final order:
"Crush the barbarians. Open the road.
Take Liangzhou.
Tang sons return home—today!"
Facing a stronger enemy, he chose surprise.
The sudden assault threw Tibetan lines into chaos—until they realized the attackers numbered only a few thousand.
And yet—
With Zhang Yichao charging at the front, the Guiyi Army unleashed terrifying strength.
Head wounds were wiped with dirt before charging again.
When horses fell, soldiers grabbed blades and charged infantry-on-cavalry.
Blood soaked their padded coats until they grew unbearably heavy—some tore them off entirely and fought bare-chested.
In the end, the Guiyi Army—
"Han blades flashing like frost and snow"—
shattered Tibetan morale completely.
Zhang Yichao had anticipated their flight. Reserve forces closed the encirclement.
The slaughter was methodical.
For dozens of li, corpses lay unburied—some freezing with the first frost, others devoured by beasts.
Notably, Gao Jinda, the first messenger to reach Chang'an, fought in this battle. He vanished from records thereafter—perhaps falling here.
With this decisive victory, the Hexi Corridor was finally reopened.
Longxi reconnected with Tang territory.
The stranded people returned home.
A poem of the time praised:
Hexi fell for a hundred years;
Xiao Pass blocked all geese and letters.
Thanks to the general who reopened the old road,
one mighty name shook the realm.]
"This," Li Shimin said firmly,
"is what a Tang general should be."
Though he pitied Zhang Yichao's lonely loyalty, he was deeply satisfied.
Only one flaw remained—
"How can such an indifferent Xuanzong be called 'Little Taizong'?"
"An insult to my name!"
"Little Xuanzong would be more fitting."
He sighed.
"If I had such a general, even personal campaigns would merit my support."
"Is he truly that ignorant of war?" he muttered.
After much discussion, Li Shimin concluded:
"Zhang Yichao—worthy to stand beside Zhuge Liang."
"By his deeds alone, he deserves the title Loyal and Martial."
"A pity he could not be used… a pity!"
He ordered his deeds recorded separately, to be read often.
"One mighty name shook the realm!" Zhang Fei loved it.
"These Tang scholars really know how to praise!"
Huang Zhong nodded seriously.
"Unlike some generals who have to praise themselves."
Zhang Fei turned red.
Laughter filled the hall.
Pang Tong looked at the light-screen quietly.
"The stronger the Guiyi Army appears," he said,
"the more hopeless Late Tang becomes."
"He rose not for Late Tang, but for the memory of High Tang."
"Just like Kongming—
longing for a strong Han, yet forced to mend a broken age."
Zhuge Liang paused—then laughed.