Formulating a Strategy, Preparing to Face a Strong Enemy

The dying embers of the fire were swept up by the night wind. A spark landed on the back of Chen Wuya's hand, but he did not flinch. He merely stared at the bronze nail lying silently on the sand table. Bai Zhi stood at his side, her fingertips resting lightly on the end of her sword hilt, her gaze fixed on the U-shaped indentation at the edge of the table.

"They aren't routed soldiers." Chen Wuya finally spoke. His voice was low, yet everyone gathered around the sand table looked up. "It's a scouting network—organized placements, marked routes, waiting for us to walk right in."

The Central Plains commander frowned. "You're saying they're luring us in? But if we don't enter the valley, where else can we go? Our rear has already been sealed off, and our provisions will only last two days."

"Precisely because we have nowhere to retreat to, they dared leave their markers out in the open." Chen Wuya tapped the sand table with his sword hilt. "They've calculated that we'll hesitate, that we'll want to rest and regroup, that we'll think it's the only place we can camp. But the safer it looks, the more likely it is to be a killing trap."

The new king of the foreign tribes fell silent for a moment, his rough fingers tracing the edge of the sand table. "My troops have only just pledged allegiance, and many of the warriors are wounded. If we enter another deathtrap, morale will be hard to hold."

"If we don't move out, this is the deathtrap." Bai Zhi took over, her tone cold and clear. "The enemy already knows we're exhausted. If we do nothing tonight, they'll encircle us at dawn. By then, we won't even have the strength to strike back."