The three armies met up without a hitch.
They broke through the Gao capital's last line of defense even sooner than expected. Shen Tang was the Sovereign, and though she herself was so poor she could hear the coins rattling in her empty pockets, she was generous to the ministers who risked their lives for her. So, spurred on by money, fame, fat promises, and every kind of motivational speech, the army advanced as if aided by the gods. A gloom hung over the whole force: "If we're a step too slow, someone else will snatch the credit for our deeds!" Whenever it struck, they wanted to complain that their mothers hadn't given them two more legs.
Their excitement lasted until a great fire drenched it cold.
Yes, a great fire!
Flames rose in the direction of the Gao capital.
They surged into the sky, scorching half the firmament red.
Shen Tang's heart lurched. "Ji Shou, come with me!"
The capital was so far away, yet they could still see the flames. She didn't dare imagine how bad the fire was inside the city. Without the slightest hesitation, she called several Literary Scholars to go ahead and fight the fire. The others were to keep advancing as planned, on guard for possible ambushes along the way.
In these chaotic times, there was no such thing as honor or shame in war.
Shen Tang didn't dare bet that the fire was a desperate enemy's vicious ploy to stall their advance, or a trap meant to lure them into the city and drag them down in a last-ditch struggle. All these possibilities flashed through her mind in an instant.
She wasn't the only one to think of them.
"My lord, beware of a trap."
From a rational standpoint, Shen Tang ought to