Volume Three: Silent Heroes, Timeless Worlds Chapter 9: Underlying Currents III

Deng She had only been in Liaoyang for a few days, and his interactions with Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing had been limited to three or four meetings. Despite their past associations, these men were old hands in the underworld; no one was ignorant of the principle: "Speak only three-tenths of your mind to any man, and never reveal your heart entirely."

Logically speaking, even if they had intentions of defecting, they should not have been this eager before gauging Deng She’s true thoughts. They ought to have tested the waters a few more times. But with an imminent campaign in Liaonan, they had no time to wait or weigh the pros and cons.

Take Hu Zhong, for instance. His force of over five thousand men had been whittled down to fewer than two thousand. His official rank had been steadily downgraded from "Ten-Thousand-Household" to "Lower Ten-Thousand-Household." Who couldn't see the writing on the wall? At this rate, with one battle after another, it wouldn’t be long before he couldn't even preserve his own life, let alone his rank.

That was the first point. The severity of the situation forced them to react immediately—a desperate struggle for survival. As Liu Daqing had said, he had long wanted to break away and flee with his troops, but the roads south were blocked. Since he couldn't run and wasn't willing to sit and wait for death, he had to find another strategy.

Then, Deng She arrived.

Deng She also came from a background of irregulars; in their eyes, he was a natural peer. In Hu Zhong’s words, they were "kindred spirits," sharing common experiences, common feelings, common grievances, common dissatisfactions, and, arguably, a common fate.

Yet, Deng She was both the same as them and different.

Men like Hu Zhong and Liu Daqing mostly came from bandit or outlaw backgrounds. Having been "kings of the mountains" for so long, they were arrogant and accustomed to freedom, refusing to submit to one another. Even though they knew uniting was the best choice, if anyone tried to take the lead, no one would pay him any mind. *Who do you think you are?* A few years ago, everyone had been a local warlord; why should *you* be the leader?

Hu Zhong had the heart to lead, but with fewer than two thousand men, no one listened to him. They were good brothers for drinking and complaining, but to crown him as their master? Out of the question. They were unwilling to be cannon fodder for Guan Duo, unwilling to build another’s success with their own bones; nor were they willing to be mere blades in the hands of men like Hu Zhong, sacrificing their lives for them.

Then, Deng She arrived.

Not only was he one of their own, but he also had power, with tens of thousands of troops under his command. If he took the lead, everyone would be convinced. Even better, Deng She had his own territory. The hundreds of miles of Shuangcheng and Pyongyang now belonged to him. Unlike Guan Duo, Deng She was someone who valued men like Li Heshang; how much more, then, would he value them, who were even closer to him than Li Heshang?

If they had been a pile of loose sand before, they now had a banner to rally under.

However, grass-roots outlaws were just that—outlaws. They could see the superficial prosperity of Goryeo but could not see the hidden perils. Or perhaps, under the pressure of a desperate survival crisis, they could not afford to look too closely. Their vision determined their insight, and their environment dictated their choices. That was why they proposed the request to "guard" Deng She and fight their way back into Goryeo.

For Deng She, while winning over these irregulars was a goal of his trip to Liaoyang, it did not mean he had to compromise or let them lead him by the nose. For the sake of Goryeo’s interests—and indeed, for the interests of the irregulars themselves—Deng She had to follow his established plan and lead them by the nose instead.

With the irregulars coming to defect, he had succeeded halfway. Whether he could fully master their strength and use it to achieve his goals depended on the other half.

The oil lamp flickered in the gloomy room.

The men sat in a circle, their shadows cast onto the rough walls, dancing and distorted. Deng She glanced toward the door, picked up the lamp pin, and trimmed the wick to brighten the light. He spoke slowly, first posing a question: "When you uncles were fighting, have you ever press-ganged commoners or forced villagers into your ranks?"

Hu Zhong paused and said, "It is standard practice in the army. In field battles, it might be different, but in sieges, one cannot do without press-ganged men and commoners." Using them as the vanguard could significantly reduce their own casualties.

Deng She asked again, "In past battles, if laying siege to a city, how many commoners could usually be coerced at once?"

Hu Zhong replied, "It depends on the location. In densely populated areas—like Daining, for example—when we attacked Daining, my troops coerced at least a thousand people. In sparsely populated areas, it’s usually just a few hundred." With an army of ten or twenty thousand attacking a city, coercing a few thousand commoners was commonplace.

Deng She nodded and said slowly, "My Goryeo troops have currently advanced to the banks of the Yalu River. Our vanguard is less than a hundred miles from Gaizhou, where Gao Jianu is stationed. To show my sincerity, before you uncles enter Liaonan and attack Gaizhou, you might want to take a turn nearby. You might find a great harvest."

Hu Zhong, Liu Daqing, and the others looked at each other. Liu Daqing, whose mind moved more slowly, asked, "A great harvest? What kind of harvest?" Hu Zhong, understanding quickly, showed joy and asked, "General, you mean...?" Deng She smiled and nodded.

With a loud *slap*, Hu Zhong struck his thigh and exclaimed, "With the General's support, we are certain to take Gaizhou!" He pulled Liu Daqing up, and they knelt down for the third time, kowtowing to thank Deng She. Liu Daqing, still dazed, kowtowed blindly and asked, "What's going on? What's happening?"

Hu Zhong explained, "Don't you understand yet? The General's meaning is clear. He will send troops disguised as commoners to wait for us. Once the location is set, we just go and receive them." Liu Daqing was overjoyed and asked Deng She, "Truly? Truly?"

Deng She nodded with a smile and added, "However, to prevent others from noticing, the number of troops available for you to receive won't be too large. I think three or four thousand should be about right."

"Three or four thousand? More than enough! More than enough!" Liu Daqing laughed heartily, saying, "Ha, the General's kindness is immense. Let me pay my respects." Without a word, he prostrated himself and kowtowed repeatedly, perfectly willing. It was no wonder he was excited; typically, the commoners and conscripts they dragged along were essentially disposable, mostly dead by the end of a battle. If Deng She was willing to implicitly hand over his own troops to them, that was a completely different matter.

Deng She helped him up and said sternly, "Though there aren't many, commoners and soldiers are very different in terms of combat experience. Suddenly having many battle-hardened soldiers will be hard to conceal; you uncles must not be careless in how you use them."

Hu Zhong thought to himself, *Four thousand men. Old Liu gets a thousand, these other thousand-household commanders get a thousand; if I bring in two more allies and they take a thousand, I can still end up with a thousand. If the battle is as low-intensity as Little Deng says, after losses, I’ll still have plenty left to fill my ranks. Even if it is intense, at worst, I break even, since it's his men dying, not mine.*

Having calculated this, he said excitedly, "We truly do not know how to repay the General's kindness. Rest assured, General, we will use them properly and won't let anyone notice anything amiss."

Liu Daqing said carelessly, "Bah, what could go wrong? It’s hard to make those who can't fight look like they can, but making soldiers look like they can't fight is simple. We’re the ones sent to the first wave of the charge anyway, dragging commoners along to die. Once enough are dead, the charge is over. The rest is the work of the main force, and we aren't the main attack. General, rest assured, those bastards won't see anything wrong."

Deng She said, "It's fine to drag along some commoners, but you uncles must remember not to drag too many. Although Liaonan is wealthy and densely populated, coercing too many commoners is against the norm."

Hu Zhong said, "The General is right. We will keep that in mind." With the source of troops supplemented, another problem arose. He hesitated and said, "In the past, the commoners we coerced were never provided with weapons. If they died, they died. But the General’s elites are different. Since you are granting them to us, then..."

Deng She understood. Even if Hu Zhong hadn't mentioned it, he wouldn't have let his subordinates die in vain. He smiled and said, "My army has many business dealings with the Jin and Fu Prefectures. There are many wealthy merchants in Jiangnan who deal in military equipment. If you uncles are lucky, perhaps besides commoners, you might stumble upon one or two such merchant caravans."

With the promise of a future outlook and the benefit of immediate gain, Hu Zhong and the others had nothing more to say, showering him with endless flattery. Hu Zhong wanted to host a banquet, but seeing the depth of the night, Deng She declined. They discussed the logistics of the handover, though it couldn't be finalized until the departure date and march routes for Guan Duo's army were set.

After some light conversation—one couldn't only talk about interests; emotional bonds were also essential—they parted ways, both host and guest satisfied. Hearing the second watch sounded in the street, Deng She rose to leave. Hu Zhong, ever slick, proactively guaranteed he would spare no effort to pull other irregulars into the fold, promising not to let Deng She down.

After Deng She left, Liu Daqing remained immersed in joy, grinning from ear to ear. Hu Zhong, however, acted out of character; his smile vanished, and his brow furrowed. Liu Daqing, confused, asked, "What the hell? Aren't you happy? Why the long face?"

Hu Zhong sighed and said, "Little Deng may be young, but he is no pushover. He would rather give us men and weapons than return to Shuangcheng. What is he really trying to do?"

Liu Daqing didn't care at all, dismissing it with, "Who cares what he wants to do! If he doesn't return to Shuangcheng, so be it. Let's just hold onto what he gives us first. There's no loss. As for the future? We'll see. If it works, we stay; if it doesn't, we leave. If there's profit, we follow him. If there's no profit and he wants to use me as cannon fodder? I'll just turn my back and leave."

Hu Zhong said, "It's easy to get on the boat, but hard to get off."

Liu Daqing was annoyed. "You were the one who wanted to win him over, and now you’re the one saying it’s hard to get off. Are you senile? Being so indecisive like a woman—with that attitude, you might as well just wait for death! Hard to get off? What, if I want to leave, will he hold me back? Will he dare to bite my balls? If he pushes me too far, we’ll just break it off, and I’ll go report him to Old Guan and sell him out."

Hu Zhong fell silent. What Liu Daqing said made sense. But had Deng She not anticipated this? Had he not prepared a move? He didn't intend to warn Liu Daqing. He looked at him and thought, *How could a brute like you understand my ambitions?* Remembering something, he instructed, "You all must remember, the men Little Deng gives us must never be kept idle. We have to use them in battle. If at least half don't die, we won't be able to digest them."

Liu Daqing patted his shoulder. "Do I need you to tell me? I know what I'm doing." They laughed, though Hu Zhong joined in with a faint sense of worry: *Even if half die, can we really digest them?* But remembering his long-held ambition, he knew that if he missed this opportunity, it wouldn't come again. He gritted his teeth; even if it were poison, as long as there was a glimmer of hope, he would take it.

To avoid being discovered, Deng She was given two personal guards by Hu Zhong to lead the way. They stuck to the back alleys, circling half of Liaoyang and avoiding three or four patrols. It was nearly the third watch by the time he returned to his residence. Fortunately, the city was not under martial law, or it would have been a major headache.

Returning to the inner hall, he was met by Fang Buzhen, who was waiting with his legs crossed. Deng She had ordered his guards not to restrict Fang Buzhen, which was why he could move so freely in the inner quarters.

Seeing Deng She return, Fang Buzhen wore a half-smile—he had two signature expressions: rolling his eyes, which was clear contempt, and this half-smile, which was a kind of mockery. In short, his expression conveyed one thing: he looked down on you, quite openly, almost written on his face.

He asked with that half-smile, "The military council ended at the first watch, yet it is now the third. Why is the General back so late?"

Guan Duo's omnipresence was truly a headache. However, Deng She had an explanation ready and replied calmly, "I didn't find the official I was looking for, so I ran into an old friend who insisted I drink a few cups." Before leaving Hu Zhong and the others, he had indeed drunk a few cups and even splashed some on his clothes to leave the scent of alcohol.

After explaining, he yawned and asked, "Why aren't you asleep, Official? Are you waiting for me?"

Fang Buzhen hummed twice and said, "I couldn't sleep without seeing the General." He was direct. He stood up, shook his robes, and continued, "Since the General is back, I am relieved. I shall take my leave." After walking a few steps, he turned back and added, "With a great battle imminent, the General bears a heavy burden. Be careful in everything. Do not take a single wrong step, or you will fall into a bottomless abyss."

Deng She played dumb and laughed, "With Councilor Guan here, the city of Liaoyang is as stable as Mount Tai. Your worries, Official, are unnecessary." Fang Buzhen chuckled and turned away.

Deng She shook his head. Outside the door, Bi Chiniu watched Fang Buzhen leave, then obtained an item from the guards and handed it to Deng She. It was a letter from Shuangcheng. Deng She felt a surge of energy and opened it by candlelight.

The letter was written by Hong Jixun in the popular Zhao style of calligraphy, the brushwork vigorous and the flow elegant. Deng She didn't rush to read the details but flipped through it to look for the secret code. On the second page, he saw a small, subtle emblem stamped over a specific character. Deng She understood immediately: Hong Jixun had received his letter and, according to his instructions, had begun implementing the pre-arranged response to Guan Duo's moves.

His heart, long held in suspense, finally settled. Deng She let out a breath, leaned back against the couch, and began to read the letter carefully. Hong Jixun’s writing was, as always, clear and organized. It was divided into three sections—political, military, and commercial—detailing the development of Shuangcheng since Deng She’s departure.

Overall, things were going smoothly.

Before leaving, Deng She had promoted many officers who were literate and steady-headed, stationing them in various cities to oversee both military and political affairs. He had also employed surrendered Goryeo officials and local families who had defected as assistants for administrative tasks, forming a rough organization. Hong Jixun had since refined this, using the Hong family’s prestige in Shuangcheng and Goryeo, and leveraging Deng She’s continuous victories and the pressure on Goryeo to negotiate, to win over northern scholars and bolster local administration.

The compilation of household registers and the baojia system was nearing completion. Land distribution was halfway done; the remaining half would be reserved to attract Han refugees. Agriculture advisors were in place, and cooperatives and grain shops were being implemented layer by layer. The Anti-Bandit Bureau had established a new branch in Pyongyang, responsible for intelligence and security in the western cities, waiting only for local stability before extending its reach toward Shandong.

Regarding provisions: the autumn harvest was nearly finished, and they had collected enough grain, combined with seafood and game, to feed fifty thousand men until next spring.

He Guangxiu, the Supervisor of Military Colonies, had come to Liaoyang with Deng She, but the farming could not stop. Hong Jixun had taken over the duties, proving more decisive than He Guangxiu. He focused on results, not the process. For minor dissatisfaction, he used the lash; for serious negligence, he dismissed them; for severe dereliction of duty, he even ordered beheadings. Consequently, the speed of the military colonies actually increased compared to when He Guangxiu handled everything personally.

Military expansion was in full swing. Though selection was strict, they would meet their target of fifty thousand men by the end of the month. They had weeded out the old and weak from the new recruits and veterans, and daily training continued without pause.

Following Deng She’s orders, officers from the rank of Centurion and above were organized by local officials to study every three days, exchanging combat experiences and discussing better tactics. They were also taught to read by local scholars—writing wasn't required, but they had to be able to read. After the Centurions finished, they would teach what they had learned to the Decurions under them.

Simultaneously, Deng She and Hong Jixun had selected several military manuals, annotated them, and distributed them to the units for systematic study. As instructors were scarce, Luo Guoqi served as the chief instructor, picking literate soldiers to teach in rotations, which basically allowed for a full cycle of instruction every month.

It was a bit slow, but there was no other way. Deng She didn't trust outsiders to teach. He had to be patient; once Luo Guoqi’s students finished their training, the speed would pick up.

Luo Guoqi’s work as the thousand-household commander of shipbuilding had been handed over to Chen Hu. Since he didn't need to be stationed at Dingzhou to guard the front line, he had the energy to manage it. However, they were still in the preparation phase and hadn't built a single ship yet.

In the newly acquired territory, many mountainous areas produced iron. They had taken over the existing Goryeo smelting sites and put them under the management of Lu Qianwu. Production had increased significantly. They had also acquired many craftsmen, especially in Pyongyang. After leaving just enough for daily needs, the rest were incorporated into the Artisan Camp, and commoners were recruited as apprentices, so the production of weaponry was slowly catching up.

Landmines had proven effective in the Battle of Pyongyang, but gunpowder remained in short supply, preventing mass production.

Chen Zhe’s merchant caravan was progressing well. Though the shipyards hadn't produced any vessels, there were many private merchant ships along the coast of Pyongyang, and they had requisitioned many. Chen Zhe had already made one voyage to Shandong, contacting Ren Zhonghou, an old comrade of the horse-thief gang who had gone to Shandong with Lady Wang. This trip had been exploratory, however, and the harvest was mediocre.

They had to guard against pirates and Japanese raiders during transport. They had captured many sailors in the Battle of Pyongyang, who were now responsible for escorting the ships. The ships were small, but better than nothing.

Tian Boren, a slave of the Shen family who had recovered from his wounds, went with Chen Zhe to Shandong. He had hoped to run into the Shen family fleet, but because Jin and Fu Prefectures were still in the hands of Japanese raiders, ships from Jiangnan had vanished. They did meet some sea merchants from Jiangsu and Zhejiang in Shandong, who informed them that they had missed the Shen family fleet by just a step. There was nothing to do but wait for the next time.

In short, the news from all fronts was good. Deng She was quite satisfied. Had he not risked his life to enter the tiger’s den to understand the secrets of Liaoyang, so that he could buy time for Shuangcheng to develop? Hong Jixun had done well, and it was worth the risk he had taken.

With official business concluded, he flipped the page. There was half a sheet left, but it had nothing to do with official business. Hong Jixun’s tone shifted, chatting about the weather in Shuangcheng and his observations of the autumn harvest. He seemed to be in a poetic mood, praising the pastoral scenery. At the end of the letter, he composed a poem, asking for Deng She’s "refined correction." Among the lines, he wrote: "More talk of the Goryeo lettuce's sweetness; how does it compare to the fragrance of silks in the deep palace?"

The first part of these two lines referenced a poem by a contemporary, Yang Yunfu, praising Goryeo lettuce. Yang Yunfu was a palace chef for the current Yuan Emperor, which led to Hong Jixun’s second line—asking which was truly more fragrant: the lettuce or the silks in the deep palace?

It seemed like a jest, but Deng She’s gaze was drawn to it, his attention even greater than it had been for the secret emblem. He and Hong Jixun alone understood the profound implication.