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The rules of the battlefield had changed.Inside the fortress no longer functioned as a place of refuge.
At first, there were only one or two huihui trebuchets.Stones flew in, struck the walls, and dust rose.People listened to the sound with curiosity.
"They say there's a crack in that section of the wall."
As time passed, the number of trebuchets increased.Three, then four battered the same point over and over again.With each added machine, the impact accumulated, and fear took shape.
Rumors spread through the fortress.
"They say someone's head was smashed somewhere.""They say a house collapsed and the people inside were buried with it."
Once death entered the stories, daily life unraveled.Sleep came in fragments, meals grew rough, prayers failed to reach their end.At night, people knocked on doors to check what resources remained.By day, they set up lookout posts amid the ash and watched the trajectories of stones.
Each day inside the walls became a routine of survival checks.
"They might break in soon.""The walls collapse faster than we can rebuild them.""Tomorrow might be the end."
The core of the siege was bombardment.Liuhe Fortress was surrounded by water on three sides.The barrels were concentrated around the north gate.
Same point.Same angle.Same interval.
The shock was being stacked, layer by layer, onto a single spot.
The damage was felt less in buildings than in people's minds.Order inside the fortress wavered, voices grew fewer, and everyone began plotting escape.
It might have been better to go out and fight.
When you hear the pounding and wait for the wall to collapse, you do nothing but wait.You pray that it won't collapse.
Because Liuhe was a smaller fortress than Gaowu, the feeling was worse.
Wouldn't it be better to hand over Zhang Shicheng alone?
Judgment slowed.Responses fell out of sync.
Zhang Shicheng noticed the change at once.
"They will break part of the wall and force their warriors through the gap."
The condition of being surrounded by water on three sides remained, but the sense of safety had shifted elsewhere.Stories from Gaowu came to mind—rumors that they had concentrated their formation, opened a path, and then pushed through.
Organized operation.Repeated strikes.
With little reliable information, rumors only multiplied.
Zhu Yuanzhang finished his assessment.The order was given without sound.
"Prepare the boats. Open a retreat through the water."
Preparations for escape proceeded in secrecy.Resources inside the fortress were secured, and by day they were disguised as benches or carrying frames.Materials were moved at night, and the men who would row were trained separately.
Boats were not only for escape.They could be used for resupply and deception as well.
Zhu Yuanzhang calculated.The concentrated bombardment at the north gate.The division within the fortress.The next movement to come.
How many days could they hold?
Once the wall fell, a great army would pour in.
With water on three sides, there was only one route of attack—but that also meant there was no route of escape.
Preparation was survival.That was his conclusion.
And so he prepared to flee.
Thus, day and night in Liuhe Fortress split apart.By day, collapsed buildings, the stench of blood, and anxious faces filled the streets.By night, the sound of hands carving oars and stitching hulls spread quietly.
The secret preparations were an admission.They themselves had already accepted that the rules of the battlefield had changed.
Beyond the walls, the huihui trebuchets were hurling stones.
The huihui trebuchet (回回砲, Huihui Pao) was a counterweight trebuchet introduced to the Mongol Empire from the Middle East in the 13th century. Capable of throwing stones weighing over 90 kilograms hundreds of meters, it shattered even the sturdy walls of the Southern Song during battles such as the Siege of Xiangyang. Unlike manpower-driven catapults, it maximized destructive force through a heavy counterweight. Built by Islamic engineers employed by the Mongols, it was called "huihui" after the Muslim world, and was also known as the Xiangyang trebuchet for its decisive role there.
Whiiish—A stone cut through the air and struck the wall.
Kwa-kwa-kwang.
Bricks burst apart and dust erupted.The vibration shook the battlefield.
To Seong-jin, the sound had become familiar.
Fear had settled, and tension had found its place.What remained were repeated impacts, dust, and waiting.
With nothing else to do, he walked back toward his original unit.The First, Second, and Third Companies of Sungui stood in line.Their numbers had dwindled, but their formation held.Each man kept his position exactly.
The mission was simple.Wait while the huihui trebuchets battered the walls.If the enemy opened the gates and came out, suppress them with heavy crossbows.
That was why they were positioned at the very front.
In front of the formation, by a pile of firewood, Oh Jin-cheol sat cross-legged on the ground.Dust clung to his face, and a bowstring was wound around his hand.
Seong-jin spoke.
"Hyungnim, do you think they'll come out?"
Oh Jin-cheol narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, so you're Park Seong-il, son of Park Jin-sul, younger brother of Park Seong-il."
Seong-jin laughed.Hearing the line he once used to introduce himself spoken by someone else felt strangely unfamiliar.
He thought about how those words must have sounded to others back then, and smiled awkwardly.The sensation of how his own words had once been heard brushed past him.
"It sounds kind of odd when I hear it now."
Oh Jin-cheol muttered.
"They'll go into the water. They might run."
"Into the water? Do they have boats?"
"Why wouldn't they? This is a water town. You can't have a place like this without boats."
Oh Jin-cheol jerked his chin toward the far side of the wall.
"See that drainage spot? That iron grating."
Seong-jin peered through the haze.A black metal lattice faintly emerged.
It was a sight he would have ignored a few days ago.
"Is that a mechanism for launching boats?"
"Yeah. Normally it's kept closed. When things get blocked, they open it—and then they slip out."
"So… you've seen it?"
"No. Just guessing. Estimating. Putting things together. Why! Why! Why!"
"Hey, why are you getting worked up again?"
"I'm bored, so all kinds of thoughts creep in. Why do they treat war like a game?"
"At least it's not as dangerous. Isn't that better?"
"It doesn't feel serious."
Oh Jin-cheol's voice sank lower.
"If we fought them in the open, it wouldn't even be a fight."
Seong-jin nodded.
"Still, we're up front."
"That's true. Our firepower's strong. Kwa-kwa-kwang."
There was nothing he couldn't say with his mouth.A short laugh slipped out.Lately, words like that tended to linger longer than before.
Seong-jin took a breath.
"A few days ago, it really felt like the end."
"Because of the retreat signal?"
"Yes."
Seong-jin's jaw tightened.
"Those bastards almost left us behind."
Oh Jin-cheol let out a long breath.
"They're always like that. The ones above start with calculations."
Seong-jin lowered his voice.
"That's why I hate it more. Dragging that miserable housekeeping all the way onto the battlefield."
Silence followed.Another stone flew overhead, and dust rained down with a dull thud.
"Looks like you've felt it too," Oh Jin-cheol said."These guys are weaker than I thought."
Seong-jin continued.
"And they're looking at something other than the war. They're worrying about the wrong things. It's like while fighting here, the eyes on the back of their heads are fixed on the court in Dadu. They're not soldiers—they're politicians, diplomats."
"That's the kind of seat they're in."
Seong-jin held his reply.
There was no need to add anything.
"So," he said carefully,"if things really start tipping, you should be ready to pull out too."
Oh Jin-cheol looked at him.
"Why? What—did you hear something?"
"No. Just worried we'll get screwed again like last time. I watch our own main camp more than the enemy's. Wondering what kind of trick they'll pull."
Seong-jin shook his head.
"I've already seen it once. I saw them pull that kind of nonsense. We were breaking in, pushing forward, and they were ringing the retreat gong behind us. They hate the idea of handing over the credit."
After a moment, Oh Jin-cheol spoke.
"That's the dirtiest thing on a battlefield. You should've just killed them all."
"I did. The one ringing the gong, the one who ordered him to ring it, and the one who tried to take over after he fell. They didn't even make a sound while we killed our own."
Another shock rolled across the battlefield.
In that sound, Seong-jin felt his own heartbeat.Almost the same rhythm.
Now, the noise of war and the voices of men overlapped into a single current.