318.
The River Holds Its Breath
The sound of soldiers breathing,
the drag of timber,
the hammering of nails,
the creak of tightening ropes—
all of it merged into a single, vast breath.
"Rest for a moment," Park Seong-jin said.
"The enemy will arrive soon.
We wait until they come.
Preparation does not stop."
The soldiers clapped one another on the shoulder,
washed the dirt from each other's hands with their own.
Night deepened once more,
and Chizhou—slowly, meticulously—
drew the curtain of war into place.
A few days later, dust rose in the north.
Xu Da's army.
Cavalry advanced first, infantry followed,
siege engines stretched out like the river's own current.
They believed the war already won.
Chizhou was small.
The Goryeo forces were scattered.
The enemy commander was said to be young.
But the moment Xu Da reached the riverbank,
he sensed something amiss.
"This land… is too quiet."
A staff officer answered,
"They must have scattered after their victory."
Xu Da shook his head.
"This is not the quiet of ordinary troops.
Not the quiet of common rebels."
From the city walls, Park Seong-jin watched.
His eyes were still.
"They've come."
His hand rose slowly.
That day, the river and fields of Chizhou held their breath.
Man-made traps can be seen.
Heaven's traps make no sound.
Park had turned the river into a weapon.
Xu Da still believed it was only a river.
From A Critical Biography of Xu Da (徐達 評傳)
Xu Da was frugal by nature and sparing of words.
He once ran a small cloth shop in Nanjing;
even when provoked, he rarely replied.
When Zhu Yuanzhang rose in rebellion,
Xu Da was among the first to stand beside him,
and never once disobeyed an order thereafter.
Zhu Yuanzhang described him as
"a man of few words and a fast blade."
His enemies called him
"the shadow that carries a sword."
He was strict in discipline,
never stirred bloodlust before battle.
Precise in siege warfare,
calm in defense.
There was no bravado in his methods.
Each step was careful,
like the tracks of a stalking beast.
Once he encircled a city,
he sealed both water and earth routes
before ordering bombardment.
Thus it was said
that no city Xu Da attacked
ever held out in the end.
Yet he lacked scholars,
and he lacked the Way.
When asked about the shape of the realm,
his answer never changed:
"My task is to open city gates.
What follows belongs to others."
His loyalty was firm,
but the breadth of his thinking was narrow.
Even after Zhu Yuanzhang claimed the realm,
Xu Da kept his distance from power—
for the same reason.
Hearing of this man's methods,
Park Seong-jin murmured quietly,
"With an enemy like this…
even mountains would move."
The Enemy's Defenses Are Too Perfect
Xu Da arrived on the plains of Chizhou in a cloud of dust.
He had ridden through the night,
yet suspicion reached him before fatigue.
The river's surface was flat—
unnaturally so.
Only days earlier,
fire and blood were said to have flowed here.
Now it lay like a mirror.
Silent.
Peaceful.
So beautiful, in fact,
that only a villain would turn this place into a battlefield.
From horseback, Xu Da turned to his aide.
"This is Chizhou?"
"Yes.
The Goryeo forces are entrenched here."
"Entrenched?"
"They are preparing to hold the city.
Chen Youliang's troops joined them the day before yesterday."
Xu Da's eyebrow twitched slightly.
His gaze fixed on the far end of the plain,
where waterlight met grasslight.
There was nothing there.
No smoke.
No banners.
And yet—there was too much nothing.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
When defenses are weak,
one feels weakness first.
This silence was complete.
He turned his horse slowly toward the riverbank.
The wind skimmed the water,
making a soft, lapping sound.
Each hoofstep in the mud
made a faint suction noise.
Then Xu Da looked up.
Across the river,
among reeds and water plants,
sunlight flashed—just once.
Metal.
"Send scouts."
His voice was low, precise.
"Cross the river. Keep formation narrow.
Do not stretch the line."
A staff officer asked,
"Shall we measure the height of the walls and the depth of the moat?"
Xu Da shook his head.
"See how far the water rises."
The soldiers hesitated.
Xu Da continued,
"They have changed the flow."
His eyes trembled slightly—
not with fear, but calculation.
He had already caught the scent of his enemy.
Near sunset,
Xu Da dispatched the first scouting party:
ten cavalry, twenty infantry.
Their orders were to probe the shallow crossings.
The soldiers stepped into the water.
Until their trouser legs were wet, all was calm.
Then, one step further—
the ground gave way.
Mud swallowed men
before screams could form.
Horses reared and collapsed.
Spears slipped from grasping hands.
Watching from afar,
Xu Da turned his head atop his horse.
His expectations had been correct.
His gaze did not waver.
He said to his aide,
"They've prepared many traps.
Chen Youliang has no men like this.
This must be the Goryeo army."
The aide could not answer.
Xu Da raised his hand.
"Prepare the next scouting unit.
Mark the boundary of the water—
all the way to the end."
As night fell, lights scattered across the river at Chizhou.
Not torches.
Not reflected starlight.
They looked like the lights of civilization—
calling men forward.
Xu Da stood alone before his tent.
The glow slid across his armor.
He murmured, almost to himself,
"This will not be a war against a city…
but a war against a river."
After a pause, he added,
"The river is on the enemy's side."
A staff officer asked carefully,
"Will you order the attack tomorrow, my lord?"
Xu Da shook his head slowly.
"Not tomorrow.
We wait for the hour when this water recedes."
With that, he entered the tent.
In the scent of night,
there was no smell of blood yet—
only the heavy smell of earth.
That earth already knew
the battlefield of tomorrow.