Three days passed, and all was peaceful in the Zhou Camp. Only cooking smoke rose; there was no fighting.
Yet everyone, from the Zhou Army's commanders down to the lowliest soldiers tending the cooking fires, had maintained an intense state of alert for three days, barely sleeping or resting.
The lack of a raid on the first night only made the Zhou Camp commanders more wary. They believed Zhang Guifang had done it deliberately. After all, if nothing happened on the first night, they were bound to relax their guard on the second.
Thus, on the second night, the soldiers became even more cautious, making a point of investigating the slightest rustle of wind through the grass.
But nothing happened on the second night either, and some began to wonder: would Zhang Guifang really raid their camp?
Still, doubts changed nothing. Having stood guard for two nights, could they simply rest on the last? The soldiers were already so exhausted-if they were attacked utterly unprepared on the third night, how could things possibly end well?
Jiang Ziya urged the entire army to remain on high alert. They absolutely could not give up now.
He was certain his guess about Zhang Guifang's intentions was flawless. He had merely been a little careless about the timing.
Nothing had happened on the first or second night, so Zhang Guifang would surely come on the third. As long as they dealt with him that night, whatever losses they suffered in the meantime would be worthwhile.
Jiang Ziya even felt some admiration for Zhang Guifang over this. He had to admit that choosing the third night for the raid was quite wise. Whether the Zhou Army had prepared beforehand or not, two uneventful days would inevitably make them somewhat lax. Zhang Guifang had chosen the