The Collapse of the An Lushan Rebellion and the Rise of a Hero

In December 756 AD, as the An Lushan Rebellion tore through the Tang Dynasty, a lesser-known commander named Zhang Xun found himself holding the fortress of Yongqiu against overwhelming odds. The rebellion, which began in 755 AD, had already seen the fall of Luoyang and Chang’an, the empire’s twin capitals. Regional commanders either defected or fled, leaving vast swathes of territory vulnerable. Yet in this chaos, Zhang Xun emerged as an unlikely bulwark against the tide of rebellion.

Zhang Xun, a former county magistrate with no formal military training, had been thrust into command by circumstance. His defense of Yongqiu was not just a military stand—it was a desperate bid to protect the southern supply routes that fed the Tang loyalist forces. The Grand Canal, China’s economic lifeline, ran through this region, and its loss would cripple the dynasty’s ability to resist.

The Strategic Gamble: From Yongqiu to Suiyang

By early 757, the situation grew dire. The nearby commanderies of Jiyin, Lu, and Dongping had fallen, and the regional military governor, Li Ju, abandoned his post at Pengcheng, retreating to the safer hinterlands. Left isolated, Zhang Xun made a fateful decision: he would abandon Yongqiu and consolidate his forces with Xu Yuan, the defender of Suiyang.

Suiyang was no ordinary city. It guarded the intersection of critical waterways and roads leading to the wealthy Jiangnan region. If Suiyang fell, the rebels could plunder the rice-rich south, bankrolling their war effort indefinitely. Recognizing this, Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan merged their forces—a mere 6,800 men—and prepared for the inevitable assault.

Their first test came when rebel general Yang Chaozong attacked Ningling, a town between Yongqiu and Suiyang. In a daring night battle, Zhang Xun’s forces annihilated Yang’s army, leaving corpses piled so high they blocked the rivers. This victory earned Zhang Xun a promotion to Vice Military Governor of Henan, but it also exposed the bitter political divisions undermining the Tang resistance.

The Politics of Betrayal: When Allies Become Obstacles

The Tang court, now split between Emperor Xuanzong in exile and his son Suzong’s rival regime, was rife with factionalism. Li Ju, the nominal Henan military governor, hoarded supplies and denied Zhang Xun’s requests for reinforcements. His reasoning was petty but predictable: Zhang Xun’s successes threatened Li Ju’s own standing.

This bureaucratic sabotage reached its peak when Li Ju was recalled to the capital, leaving his successor, He Lan Jinming, with a skeleton force. He Lan, more concerned with guarding against political rivals than rebels, refused to aid Suiyang. His inaction was compounded by Xu Shuji, another Tang commander who preferred to preserve his troops rather than risk them in a relief effort.

The Siege Begins: Innovation Against Impossibility

In spring 757, the rebel general Yin Ziqi arrived with 130,000 troops. What followed was one of history’s most lopsided sieges. Zhang Xun’s defenders, soon reduced to 1,600 men, faced nightly assaults. Yet through sheer ingenuity, they held:

– The Burning Ladders: When rebels built massive siege towers, Zhang Xun countered with hidden hooks and fire traps, toppling them mid-assault.
– The Iron Rain: Rebel “donkey carts” meant to undermine walls were melted by pots of molten metal poured from the battlements.
– The Trojan Ramp: For weeks, Zhang Xun let rebels build an earthen ramp, only to ignite hidden combustibles, creating an inferno that burned for twenty days.

But innovation couldn’t replace food. By August, supplies ran out. Soldiers ate tea leaves, paper, and eventually—according to the Old Book of Tang—resorted to cannibalism. The text claims Zhang Xun killed his own concubine to feed the troops, a controversial act later debated by historians. Modern scholars suggest the “cannibalism” may have been limited to consuming already-dead bodies, a grim but more psychologically plausible scenario.

The Final Betrayal and the Last Stand

In a last bid for help, Zhang Xun sent his lieutenant Nan Jiyun to beg for aid. The scene that followed became legend:

Nan arrived at He Lan Jinming’s feast, where tables groaned with food. “My men haven’t eaten in months,” he spat, refusing the meal. When He Lan demurred, Nan severed his own finger and vowed revenge. His parting shot—an arrow embedded in a temple gate—marked his oath to kill He Lan if he survived.

No help came. By October, Suiyang’s defenders numbered just 400. On the 9th, the walls fell. Zhang Xun, now with only three teeth left from grinding them in battle, was captured. Offered clemency, he refused. “I’d rather be a ghost killing rebels than a traitor living,” he said before execution.

Legacy: The Unbreakable Shield of Jiangnan

Suiyang’s sacrifice was not in vain. Ten days after its fall, Tang forces recaptured Luoyang. Historians like Li Han argued that Zhang Xun’s stand bought critical time, preventing the rebels from seizing Jiangnan’s wealth. Without Suiyang, the Tang might have collapsed entirely.

The court posthumously honored Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan, building temples in their memory. By the Qing Dynasty, Zhang Xun was enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple—a rare honor for a commoner. Yet his legacy is complex. The cannibalism allegations shadow his heroism, a reminder of war’s moral abyss.

But perhaps the truest epitaph lies in the words of his soldiers, who, starving and outnumbered, chose to die standing rather than live kneeling. In the annals of loyalty, Suiyang’s defenders carved their names in fire and blood.