Victory in war lay in calculating first and fighting afterward.
When those calculations were exact, victory and defeat were decided before the armies even met.
Eighteenth day of the tenth month, Jinghe Year Fifteen. Zhongwei, Ningxia.
Military intelligence arrived: three thousand mixed Tangut cavalry had marched out of Wuwei, bypassing Lanzhou.
They crossed Wushaoling Ridge and reached Pingchuan, their vanguard already pressing toward the Jinglu Guard at Jingyuan.
Zhou Quan stood before the map, studying it for a long time.
"The Tanguts are bypassing Lanzhou and driving straight into Jingyuan." Zhou Quan slowly traced a line across the map.
"From Wuwei to Jingyuan, a thousand li apart. A lone army thrusting deep, with a fortified city ahead and no support behind...
It seems that after their victory at Peng Ding, they've grown accustomed to relying on their swift horses to raid and provoke."
"Unfortunately, they've forgotten one thing." Zhou Quan raised his head, his gaze like iron.
"In the tenth month, the Yellow River isn't in flood."
"The river flats are exposed."
(After the tenth month, the river receded, a phenomenon called "falling water," and the great flood season ended.
Thus, by the tenth month, the usual summer and major autumn floods had already passed.
When the ancients managed rivers, many emergency repairs and embankment projects were deliberately begun after the waters fell in the ninth and tenth months.)
That night, Zhou Quan mustered his troops and set out.
They followed the Yellow River upstream, leaving Zhongwei and marching to Jingtai.
Jingtai lay beside Pingchuan, behind the Tangut cavalry.
Three days later, on the Yellow River flats at Jingtai.
The entire army had arrived.
The map was spread out. Zhou Quan studied it, then looked into the distance. "The Tangut army faces Jingyuan's fortified walls ahead. Its retreat