Choose Liu Bei at the start, I am the only one who knows the plot of the Three Kingdoms.

On the city wall, Zhang He listened expressionlessly to Zhou Yu's envoy's seemingly sincere but actually increasingly forceful words of persuasion to surrender, and remained silent for a moment. Just as the envoy thought he was wavering and was about to add fuel to the fire...

Zhang He suddenly turned around, snatched a powerful bow from the guard beside him, and drew a wolf-tooth arrow. His movements were swift and fluid. He nocked the arrow and drew the bowstring to its fullest extent in an instant!

"call out--!"

The arrow left the bowstring with a sharp whooshing sound, not aimed at the messenger, but rather flew over his head and headed straight for the faintly visible silver-armored figure under the central banner in the distance—Zhou Yu!
This arrow was swift, accurate, and ruthless! It demonstrated Zhang He's decisiveness and fierce resolve as a renowned general. Surrender? Absolutely not! That was his answer!

However, while Zhang He was brave, archery was not his forte, and he was indeed some distance from the legendary archers like Taishi Ci and Huang Zhong. Furthermore, due to the greater distance, the arrows would lose some power and accuracy by the time they reached the central army.

Under the central banner, Zhou Yu seemed to have anticipated this. Facing the sudden cold arrow, he remained calm and did not even move. However, a decorative short sword appeared in his hand at some point, which he casually swung forward.

"clang!"

With a crisp clang of metal, the arrow, filled with Zhang He's rejection and anger, was effortlessly deflected by Zhou Yu and stuck obliquely into the soil beside him.

Zhou Yu raised his eyes and looked at Zhang He's proud figure standing on the city wall of Nanchang. The last trace of expectation for peace in his eyes completely disappeared, replaced by a cold appreciation and a resolute fighting spirit.

“Zhang Junyi was indeed loyal and righteous.”

Zhou Yu muttered to himself, then his voice turned cold as he gave the order.

"Issue an order to the entire army: Zhang He is stubborn and defiant, resisting the heavenly army! Attack Nanchang City from all sides immediately! Whoever first breaches the city walls will be rewarded with a thousand gold pieces and promoted three ranks! After the city falls... take no prisoners!"

Since persuasion to surrender had failed, the only option left was to settle things with swords! Zhou Yu had also lost his last bit of patience; he was determined to crush this thorn in his side with overwhelming force!

"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump—!!"

A deafening roar of war drums suddenly erupted, shattering the brief calm of the battlefield. Sun Jian's army, already prepared, surged towards the walls of Nanchang like a pack of wolves awakened from their slumber, unleashing a thunderous roar as they pushed siege ladders, battering rams, arrow towers, and other siege equipment, like a black tide, from all directions!

Nanchang, as the seat of Yuzhang Commandery, was far more fortified than any ordinary county town. The city walls were about four zhang high, built of blue bricks and massive stones, and the moat was wide, drawing water from the Gan River, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack. After Zhang He retreated to this location, he urgently reinforced the damaged areas and deployed a large number of defensive weapons.

Faced with Sun Jian's fierce attack, Zhang He personally took command from the city wall, commanding with composure. Rolling logs and stones rained down like raindrops, boiling molten gold and hot oil splashed down the siege ladders, and archers fired in shifts from behind the parapets, arrows raining down like locusts.

Although Sun Jian's army had a numerical advantage and high morale, every charge and climb was met with heavy losses in the face of Zhang He's tenacious resistance and the city's formidable defenses. Corpses quickly piled up at the foot of the city walls, and the moat was stained red with blood.

On the first day, Sun Jianjun launched no fewer than ten group assaults, all of which were repelled, resulting in heavy casualties.

The next day, Zhou Yu adjusted his tactics, increasing the number of siege weapons and providing cover, and focusing his attacks on the relatively weak points of the city wall. The two sides engaged in repeated back-and-forth battles at several crenellations, and the fighting was extremely fierce, but the city wall remained in Zhang He's hands.

On the third day, Zhou Yu even deployed some of his naval forces in an attempt to coordinate a land attack from the direction of the Gan River, but they were repelled by Zhang He's well-prepared naval defenses and shore defenses.

Nanchang City stood firm like a solid reef, unmoved by the raging waves. Zhou Yu's 50,000-strong army was indeed held back by Zhang He's less than 10,000 remnants at the city walls.

However, the defenders' tenacity came at a great cost and with heavy casualties. Arrows, logs, oil, and molten gold were rapidly dwindling.

Even more fatally, the number of soldiers defending the city was drastically reduced in the continuous and brutal fighting.

The afternoon of the fourth day.

At a crenellation on the city wall, where an attack had just been repelled, bloodstains were still wet. Zhang He's long sword was already dulled, and his armor was covered with sword and arrow wounds. He was panting heavily, looking at the corpse of a Sun general wearing a captain's leather armor, whom he had just killed with his own hands. There was no joy in his eyes, only deep exhaustion.

"Throw it down!"

Zhang He gave the order in a hoarse voice. Two guards immediately lifted the still-warm body and threw it off the city wall, where it landed on the enemy troops who were regrouping below, causing a small commotion and shouts.

Zhang He leaned against the blood-stained parapet and looked down. As far as the eye could see, the dark mass of enemy troops seemed endless. Driven by their officers, they were reorganizing their ranks, carrying new ladders and shields, preparing for the next attack.

The number of soldiers still standing on the city walls has dwindled to a mere handful.

He roughly estimated that after four days and four nights of relentless and brutal fighting, he probably had less than four thousand soldiers left who could still fight! And everyone was wounded and exhausted to the point of death.

On the other hand, Zhou Yu's army below the city, although it would inevitably suffer greater losses, still had a large number of soldiers, more than 30,000 of whom were still capable of fighting! Moreover, Sun Jian of Nanhai Commandery could send more reinforcements and supplies at any time.

As the tide ebbs and flows, our own forces will dwindle with each battle, and our arrows and logs will become increasingly scarce, while the enemy seems to be coming in endless numbers…

A chilling feeling, a feeling of despair, crept up Zhang He's back.

He had fought for half his life and experienced countless fierce battles and dangerous situations, but such a desperate situation as this, with no reinforcements from the outside, no food supplies from the inside, and the enemy outnumbering him so much, and with his resources visibly depleted, was truly rare.

He knew that Zhou Yu no longer needed to launch the kind of fierce attack that disregarded casualties in the first three days. He only needed to continue to apply pressure slowly and steadily, like he was now, to deplete his manpower and resources. Sooner or later, the city would be exhausted and collapsed!

The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. His determination to defend the city remained unchanged, but reason told him that the outcome seemed to be already predetermined.

All he could do was postpone this inevitable end as long as possible and make it seem more dramatic.

Zhang He's guess was correct; this was precisely the strategy Zhou Yu quickly adjusted after his initial three days of unsuccessful attacks. Inside Zhou Yu's central command tent, the atmosphere was not tense.

"Commander, our army suffered approximately 800 casualties today, while Zhang He's army suffered around 300 casualties."

A military officer respectfully reported the battle damage.

Zhou Yu nodded, his gaze falling on a simple situational map on the table in front of him, his finger lightly pointing to the location of Nanchang City.

"Very good. Order all units to maintain pressure, but there is no need for a full-scale assault. Conduct raids in shifts each day, feigning attacks on various locations to deplete their arrows and logs, and exhaust their soldiers. Especially at night, send out small teams to create disturbances, feigning an attack on the city, to prevent them from resting."

A knowing smile played on his lips. "Zhang He is a tough nut to crack; forcing him will only break your teeth. But we have time and manpower. We'll trap him in the city, slowly draining his strength and hope until he's exhausted and his morale collapses. Then, we'll deliver the final blow and achieve complete victory."

The general standing to the side was somewhat puzzled.

"General, while this method is prudent, it takes a long time. What if Gu Rubing's reinforcements arrive..."

Zhou Yu waved his hand, interrupting.

"Gu Rubing's main force is still in Youzhou, a thousand miles away, and there are many mountains and rivers blocking the way. In addition, our lord Wu Hou's army is eyeing us covetously in the South China Sea, and his Jingzhou and Jiaozhou camps are also being held back by our army. He cannot arrive in the short term. As for reinforcements from other directions..."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

"Zhang Ren is blocked in Guiyang by Lu Boyan and cannot move. Deng Ai of Nan Commandery has to guard against Cao Cao, and Zhong Hui of Nanyang has to guard against him as well. Zhang He is already trapped like a turtle in a jar."

He picked up another piece of scattered intelligence about Gu Rubing's army's movements, which had been forwarded from Sun Jian in the rear. He then looked at the constantly updated statistics on the number of troops and supplies consumed in Nanchang City on his desk, and his confidence grew even stronger.

"It is estimated that Zhang He's city currently has less than four thousand soldiers who can fight, and more than half of his arrows and logs have been used up. If this continues, in five days at most, his defenses will have irreparable flaws, and his morale will plummet."

Zhou Yu's voice carried a sense of composure and control over the overall situation.

"Then our army will break through the city and capture and kill Zhang He!"

In Zhou Yu's view, the significance and merit of killing or capturing Zhang He, a renowned general under Gu Rubing, far outweighed the rapid occupation of Wu Commandery and Danyang.

This would not only severely damage the morale of Gu Rubing's army and deter those forces in Jiangdong who were still observing, but also demonstrate the military might and strength of Zhou Yu and the forces he represented, Sun Jian, to the world! Therefore, he would rather spend more time and suffer more casualties than fail to secure this "great achievement" in his hands.

The afterglow of the setting sun stained the city walls of Nanchang with a poignant crimson hue, reflecting the rising smoke from the continuous camps outside the city. Zhou Yu stood on the high platform in the center of the army, gazing at the "Zhang" banner on the city wall, which, though tattered, still stubbornly fluttered. He then looked at the sky and nodded slightly.

"Sound the retreat, withdraw the troops."

He gave the order in a calm voice.

"Clang clang clang clang—!"

The crisp, urgent sound of the gong echoed across the battlefield. Upon hearing it, Sun Jian's soldiers, who were scaling ladders and charging the city gates, retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind only mountains of corpses and wisps of smoke rising from the battlefield beneath the city walls. The three-hour-long siege had temporarily come to an end.

On the city wall, Zhang He leaned against the cold parapet, slowly slid down to the ground, and gasped for breath.

He was covered in blood, and his armor bore several more sword and arrow wounds. His hand, gripping the chipped longsword, trembled slightly uncontrollably. Watching the enemy army retreat like the receding tide, his extremely tense nerves finally relaxed a little, and a feeling of exhaustion from surviving a catastrophe instantly swept over him.

"Another day has passed... another day has been made."

He muttered to himself, his voice so hoarse it almost sounded unlike his own. But the price of this "yet another day" was the lives of hundreds of loyal and brave men.

Soon, the casualty statistics for each section of the city wall were reported. As Zhang He listened to his deputy read out the number in a heavy, hoarse voice, his heart sank deeper and deeper into an icy abyss.

"General, the arrow tower at the East Gate has been destroyed, and the defending troops have suffered 237 casualties; the crenellations at the South Gate have been lost three times, but were recaptured twice. The last time, the remaining enemy could not be completely wiped out, resulting in 411 casualties."
The west gate...the north gate faces the river, the pressure is slightly less, but there were still over a hundred casualties. Total...today's casualties are approximately 1200. Currently...the remaining brothers still capable of defending the city are less than...less than 3000. Arrows are less than 10% complete, rolling logs and stones are exhausted, and oil and molten metal...have also run out.”

Less than three thousand men… Zhang He closed his eyes, his mind already conjuring up the scene of the city's fall tomorrow. With such a depleted army, in such a state, facing Zhou Yu's long-awaited all-out attack, they probably wouldn't even last an hour. The fall of Nanchang seemed imminent, just after sunrise.

An indescribable weariness and sorrow welled up in my heart.

Zhang He had fought for half his life; was he destined to die here, becoming a stepping stone on Zhou Yu's path to fame? He was unwilling, but seemed powerless to change the situation.

"Pass down the order to let the brothers who can still move take a break and eat something. The night... I'm afraid there won't be any peace at night either."

Zhang He waved his hand, his voice filled with desolation.

He struggled to his feet, preparing to return to his temporary lodgings to face what seemed to be his inevitable "last day."

Just then, the deputy general who had been following him showed a strange expression. He quickly walked to Zhang He's side and looked around warily.

Then, he carefully took out a small bamboo tube, only as thick as a finger, wrapped tightly in oiled paper, from the inner pocket of his bosom, and said in a low voice.

"General, half an hour ago, a seriously wounded scout risked his life to sneak back through the east water gate of the city. He... he entrusted this item to me, saying... saying it came from the north and that he must personally deliver it to you, General!"

A glint of light suddenly flashed in Zhang He's weary eyes! The north? At this time, a secret message from the north? He immediately took the bamboo tube, his fingers trembling with excitement. He quickly peeled off the oiled paper, took out the finely rolled silk cloth inside, and carefully examined it by the light of the torches that had not yet completely died down on the city wall.

The handwriting on the silk was small and somewhat messy, clearly written in haste, but the content made the gloom and despair on Zhang He's face dissipate quickly, like dark clouds pierced by sunlight!
His brows furrowed at first, then slowly relaxed, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up, finally transforming into an uncontrollable smile that was a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and resolute hope!
"Good! Good! Good!"

Zhang He exclaimed "Good!" three times, clutching the silk cloth tightly in his hand as if it were a lifeline—no, a sword to turn defeat into victory! The weariness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a renewed burning fighting spirit.

"Heaven has not forsaken me! Heaven has not forsaken Nanchang! Zhou Yu, your schemes have come to an end!"

The lieutenant was dumbfounded, wondering what exactly was written in the letter that could instantly revitalize the general who was on the verge of despair.

"General, this..."

Zhang He didn't explain, but carefully put away the silk cloth, patted his deputy's shoulder, and his voice, though still hoarse, was full of strength.

"Send the order! Have all the brothers who can still move eat and drink their fill immediately, and take the time to rest! But weapons must not be out of their hands, and armor must not be removed! Tonight, there may be 'guests' visiting! Tomorrow... tomorrow may be the time for us to switch from defense to offense!" (End of this chapter)