Volume Three: Heroes Fall Silent as the World Grows Old, 14: Shenyang II

The distance from Dongmou Mountain to Liaoyang is slightly greater than that from Shenyang.

To provide reinforcements for Pan Mei, Guan Duo dispatched a contingent of troops fifteen miles east of the city, establishing a camp along the banks of the Taizi River. This maneuver created a strategic line connecting Liaoyang and Dongmou Mountain, shielding Pan Mei from the peril of isolation and removing any immediate threat from a Shenyang counteroffensive.

Once arrangements were finalized, Guan Duo and Pan Cheng rode out to inspect the camp. The soldiers they encountered were spirited and eager. Buoyed by the initial victory, commanders everywhere were petitioning for the chance to engage in battle.

"The morale is excellent," Pan Cheng remarked, looking out over the bustling scene of men and horses. He felt a sense of satisfaction. After being cooped up in Guangning for so many days, they had finally made their move.

"As long as we are willing to act, the stalemate can always be broken," Guan Duo said with a smile.

"Is that Xiao Deng’s army?"

Due to the arrival of the two Pingzhang officials, the garrison had marched out of their camp to form ranks along the roadside. The attire of the Shuangcheng troops was largely similar to those from Liaoyang, but their red and black shoulder patches, along with the identification plates on their chests displaying their unit and name, were quite distinctive.

Pan Cheng, seated on his horse, examined them critically and remarked, "Not much to look at..." He caught sight of Yang Wanhu and He Guangxi standing at the front of the ranks. Both were slight of build, appearing puny compared to the other officers, and standing side-by-side, they looked like a pair of chickens in a flock of cranes.

Pan Cheng chuckled, spurred his horse forward, and circled them twice before pulling the reins, causing his steed to rear up with a long neigh.

Yang Wanhu was naturally arrogant; even Deng She had not impressed him initially, and it took repeated victories to earn his respect. Who was Pan Cheng to him? Moreover, Yang had been humiliated in Liaoyang previously. Though Pan Cheng was not the one who had wronged him, Yang did not care for such distinctions. Nursing a hidden fire, he kept his head high and his face cold, pretending not to notice the official.

He Guangxi was different. He was intimidated by high-ranking officials. Knowing that Pan Cheng was at odds with Shuangcheng and feeling neither affection nor respect for him, he instinctively adopted a fawning expression, bowing and scraping.

Pan Cheng raised his whip, gestured vaguely at them, and asked, "Under Commander Deng?"

Yang Wanhu ignored him, so He Guangxi replied, "Yes, yes. This humble one is He Guangxi. Wanhu..." He glanced at Yang Wanhu, not daring to use his name directly, "...and this is Wanhu Yang." As Deng She had been promoted, they had all been elevated in rank.

Pan Cheng looked puzzled. He squinted at the mustache on He Guangxi’s lip, unsure, and asked, "A eunuch?"

He Guangxi’s expression shifted. In the past, he had not cared, but after surviving bloody battles and witnessing comrades die, he had regained a sense of pride. He had long wanted to be a man, which is why he wore a fake mustache; as his rank rose, the mustache grew thicker. A eunuch? It had been a long time since anyone had called him that to his face. He gripped his fists tightly, forced a smile, and said, "Yes, that is correct." He added, "Commander Pan has a sharp eye."

Pan Cheng laughed. "Haha, Xiao Deng’s way of using people is certainly unconventional."

Guan Duo, hampered by a leg injury, could not ride fast. He caught up slowly, arriving just in time to hear the last remark. A quick glance at He Guangxi’s embarrassed expression told him the reason. Having read Yao Haogu’s letters, he knew the background of the Shuangcheng generals. He smiled and said, "During the night battle to hold the camp against Zhang Jujing and Shijie Bao, Wanhu He performed a great service. Let me think—not just a great service, it was..."

He Guangxi blushed, "A miraculous service!"

"Yes, yes, yes. Using dust to repel the enemy—a rarity in history. A commander who can master the timing of the heavens and the advantages of the terrain is a true great general. Remarkable, truly remarkable." His praise left He Guangxi both excited and thrilled. Guan Duo then shifted his gaze to Yang Wanhu and drew a sharp breath. "Is this General Yang, known as Wanhu?"

Yang Wanhu gave a cold grunt.

Guan Duo did not take offense at his arrogance. "I have long heard that in the Shuangcheng army, there is a tiger and a gall: Yang Wanhu the Tiger, and Zhang Daier the Gall. When Commander Deng launched the surprise attack on Shuangcheng, it was you who first scaled the walls, earning the seat of honor above all other generals. During the rain-drenched battle at Dingzhou, it was you who took the head of an enemy commander from amidst a hundred thousand troops as easily as reaching into your own pocket. A fine Yang Wanhu indeed—truly the Yide of Commander Deng."

These two feats were Yang Wanhu’s proudest moments. Having been stroked in the right place, his expression softened slightly. He offered a reluctant fist salute. "Greetings, Commander Guan." He looked behind Guan Duo and asked, "Has my Commander not come?"

"The reinforcements from Dongmou Mountain have just departed the camp. Commander Deng is currently overseeing the logistics of the rear supply lines."

Yang Wanhu nodded. Guan Duo smiled. "As the commander of the Eastern Route Army, overseeing supplies is his duty. The war in Southern Liaoning is about to begin, and Shenyang is stirring. In these momentous times... General Yang, let me ask you: when will the sea-eagle spread its wings? When will you, the fierce tiger, bare your claws?"

Yang Wanhu replied, "As a hound for my master, I wait only for him to release the leash and open the cage."

Guan Duo laughed heartily, resting his hand on his sword. "Good, good! I shall wait and see you, the fierce tiger, leap from your cage."

One asked with subtlety, the other answered with bluntness. Pan Cheng watched from the side, disapproving of Guan Duo’s insinuations, and sneered inwardly, "Xiao Deng has entrenched himself in Goryeo, forming his own faction; is he really so easy to poach?"

He guessed wrong. Guan Duo had no intention of poaching; it was, at most, a minor probe.

In total, there were two hundred and thirty thousand Red Turbans. The forces of Sha and Liu numbered over fifty thousand, and Pan Cheng’s forces over seventy thousand, mostly stationed in Western Liaoning and Guangning; for the Southern Liaoning campaign, each had recalled over ten thousand men. Guan Duo’s own force numbered over sixty thousand, plus thirty thousand irregulars stationed in and around Liaoyang. The remaining ten thousand were left in the Upper Capital.

Of these, Pan Cheng’s force was the largest, but his combat effectiveness was the lowest. There were two reasons: first, he expanded too quickly, resulting in many raw recruits; second, he did not prioritize training. Or rather, he lacked the capacity to govern a military; his reach exceeded his grasp, and his training was sloppy, leading to poor discipline.

The vast majority of the Sha and Liu forces were devout White Lotus members, sincerely believing in the descent of the Maitreya.

When people have faith, they have a goal. If one’s life is a road, goals are the milestones, and faith is the destination. With a goal, there is a direction for struggle; with faith, there is often the courage to face death without fear. Not only to forget death but to treat it as a homecoming—to feel that one dies for a righteous cause. They were even willing to die.

Thus, although the Sha and Liu forces were smaller, their combat effectiveness was high, and their cohesion was exceptional.

Guan Duo’s forces had the strictest discipline, with many veteran soldiers and rich experience. He lacked the obsession of Sha and Liu, and the laxity of Pan Cheng. To use an analogy: the Sha and Liu forces were like an arrow—once the bowstring is pulled, they cannot return, making them too sharp and prone to snapping. Pan Cheng’s force was like a blade—with a thick back but a thin edge, effective at hacking when things went well, but prone to collapse when faced with adversity; they were too scattered and lacked a keen edge.

In other words, the Sha forces lacked endurance, and the Pan forces could only fight when the tide was with them. Neither could survive a protracted war of attrition.

Only Guan Duo had honed his troops like a spear and a sword. The spear is the ancestor of all weapons, and the sword is the king of arms; the spear can strike from afar, the sword from near; the spear can thrust, the sword can slash; the spear can sweep, the sword can parry—they were capable of any type of warfare. Ten years to hone a sword, ten thousand days to master the spear. The reason the Liaoyang Red Turbans could dominate the Liaodong region for years was that his army was the true backbone.

Furthermore, as a scholar by origin, he respected intellectuals, and his staff was filled with talent. He could truly be said to have "generals like clouds and strategists like rain."

After years of painstaking cultivation, the success or failure would be decided now. After inspecting the camp, Pan Cheng left to attend to matters, and Guan Duo returned to the government office. At the gates, he ran into Mao Jujing, who was just about to find him. Mao Jujing bowed and reported that scouts had returned from the field and had been waiting for some time.

Guan Duo leaned on his leg, carefully dismounting from his horse with the help of guards, and asked casually, "From Gaizhou?"

Mao Jujing shook his head and whispered, "One from the east; one from the north." The east was Goryeo, and the north was Shenyang. Coming from these two places, they were less scouts and more messengers. Mao Jujing had used the term to avoid leaks.

Guan Duo immediately forgot his leg pain, dropped his whip, and strode into the office. Mao Jujing trotted after him, asking, "Who shall the Lord see first?"

"The one from the north."

The messenger from the north brought a verbal message. Pan Mei had launched a surprise attack on Dongmou Mountain. Guan Duo had informed Naha-chu in advance, asking him to let Pan Mei take the mountain intentionally—otherwise, how could Pan Mei have succeeded so easily? The messenger said, "Naha-chu stated: By letting Pan Mei take the mountain, he has shown his sincerity. Now, it depends on the Lord."

"How did you answer?"

"I told him to rest assured. Once Southern Liaoning is settled, if Shenyang dispatches troops to Dongmou Mountain, the Lord will certainly not come to the rescue. Pan Mei’s head will be the first token of our allegiance."

"And what did he say?"

"He avoided the subject, saying only that the Great Capital has dispatched reinforcements to supplement Tuosijian’s forces, numbering thirty thousand."

Mao Jujing remarked, "He is using Tuosijian to threaten you..." Guan Duo smiled. "Deception is expected." He asked the messenger, "Did you see the state of the Shenyang army?"

He asked this every time. The messenger replied, "Naha-chu’s security was tight. I saw no one but him and could not leave the guesthouse. However, on my way back, I saw a unit of Tatars changing shifts at the city walls. Their banners were limp, their morale low, and many looked gaunt. Their weaponry was a hodgepodge—some even used bone-tipped arrows and wooden spears."

"And the cavalry?"

"North of Shenyang, there are many pastures, and there is no shortage of horses. In the guesthouse, I could hear the horses neighing in the camp outside all day long."

After asking about the military, Guan Duo asked about the officials. "And the civil and military leadership?"

"I didn't see many. There was a Tatar named Nairawu who, while drunk, lifted a tripod before my eyes. He certainly has some brute strength."

"Hmm, Nairawu? I have heard of him."

A brave general does not necessarily lead an effective army. As the saying goes, "An army without structure, even with a capable general, cannot win." Without a disciplined rank and file, even a virtuous general is in danger. Nairawu was impulsive and rash; his actions revealed his character. He was merely a brave fool and not worth serious concern.

Guan Duo did not dwell on it. After asking a few more questions, he praised the messenger for his hard work and told him to rest.

Once the messenger left and they were alone, Mao Jujing said, "Lord, our army has not yet paid a single price, yet Naha-chu has handed over Dongmou Mountain. Is he not being too trusting of us? ...Lord, when things are extraordinary, there is often a demon at work. I suspect a trap."

Guan Duo pondered in silence. He had been in private contact with Naha-chu for over a month and had met him several times. Based on the messenger’s reports, Naha-chu did not seem like a cunning or sinister man. He was decisive, understood the art of trade-offs, and showed the makings of someone who could accomplish great things.

Guan Duo had also mapped out the situation in Shenyang. Like Liaoyang, it was plagued by factions. Not to mention the two Wanhu offices, there were seven or eight princes, each with their own followers, plus various "Green Armies" and "Gan-Taolu Armies," divided into three or four major camps.

Naha-chu was merely the leader of the largest faction. In terms of his position, he was similar to Guan Duo—having a title of authority but struggling to wield absolute power. For someone with grand ambitions, this was the most unbearable state of affairs.

"Perhaps in his eyes, I am another Deng She?" Guan Duo walked back and forth while speaking. It was too difficult to guess a man’s heart. He turned back and carefully re-evaluated the entire plan and its details before coming to a decision: "Even if it is a trap, at most Pan Mei will die. We will just be more careful and stay on guard."

"Understood."

Guan Duo was a man who could let go of his burdens once a decision was made. He stopped second-guessing, returned to his desk, and ordered, "Send in the messenger from the east."

Had Deng She been there, he would have recognized this messenger—one of the scholars who had entered Shuangcheng with Yao Haogu. Having not seen Guan Duo for several months, Guan Duo did not ask about business first, but instead inquired about the well-being of Yao Haogu, Qian Shide, and the others, asking if they had adjusted to the climate.

The messenger was deeply moved. "The Lord is too kind. Director Yao and General Qian are all doing well. This humble official is a native of Liaodong, so the climate of Goryeo agrees with me just fine. The only thing is, we are bored to death every day. Hong Jixun and Wu Henian hold all the real power, and we cannot get a hand in..." He said with shame, "I have truly failed the Lord’s high expectations."

Guan Duo did not blame him; he offered gentle words of comfort. "They are the masters, and you are the guests. That you cannot get a hand in is not your fault—it is mine." He sighed. "The situation in Liaoyang is too tight; I have not been able to help you build momentum."

The messenger was moved to tears. "The Lord blames himself, but we are truly unworthy. It is only because of our own incompetence." He paused and added, "When I entered the city, I saw troops gathering in the camp outside. Lord, are you about to launch the campaign into Southern Liaoning?"

"Indeed. Did you not see Zheng Sanbao?"

"It was precisely because I saw General Zheng that Director Yao sent me back." He had traveled by carriage, which was slower than the messenger Zheng Sanbao had sent earlier, arriving two days late.

"Oh? How is the situation in Shuangcheng?"

"The troops surrounding Shenyang have already left the city. The commander, Chen Hu, has ten thousand men, all elite. Per your orders, General Qian Shide did not accompany them and remains stationed in Shuangcheng." The messenger took a letter from his robe. "Director Yao has a letter here for you, Lord."

Guan Duo took it, broke the seal, and found a short note written in neat, small script. He scanned it quickly—it was nothing more than an update on the military and civil affairs of Shuangcheng. The military drilled daily, and the domestic measures were gradually improving. In short, order was stabilizing, and their cause was thriving.

One sentence caught Guan Duo’s attention. Yao Haogu wrote: "Xiao Deng is far away, and I miss him dearly. I convey this message to the Lord: 'The Liang Garden may be fine, but it is not home.'" Yao Haogu, likely worried that the roads were unsafe and the letter might be lost, had written this section vaguely, which seemed nonsensical at first glance.

Guan Duo, lost in thought, closed the letter and asked the messenger, "Have there been any changes in Shuangcheng lately?"

Before the messenger had left, Yao Haogu had given him instructions. He knew exactly what Guan Duo was asking. "Director Yao told me to inform the Lord that when Xiao Deng left, he issued a military order for all civil and military affairs to be handled by Hong Jixun. For a short time, this is fine, but if it lasts, it will inevitably lead to change."

"What do you mean?"

Mao Jujing chimed in, "Does Hong Jixun have ulterior motives?"

"Not at all. Hong Jixun may be arrogant, but he is certainly not an ungrateful man. Deng She treated him with great kindness. According to Director Yao, there is a screen in his main hall with eight characters written on it."

"Which eight characters?"

"'Devote all one's efforts until one's heart stops beating.' He compares himself to Zhuge Liang and Xiao Deng to Liu Bei."

Mao Jujing spat, "Arrogant fool."

Guan Duo remained silent for a long moment before saying softly, "He has sparred with Director Yao for months and held his ground. Even with the advantage of being a local, he can be called a man of great talent. 'Devote all one's efforts until one's heart stops beating'—if he truly means it, Xiao Deng has won the hearts of his men."

In truth, Yao Haogu had said this long ago. He had repeatedly warned Guan Duo that Deng She was not to be underestimated. There is a saying: "Hearing is false, seeing is true." What one hears from others is hard to take to heart; without seeing it for oneself, trust is always discounted—especially for those as confident as Guan Duo.

He had finally seen Deng She in person, and the man was not even twenty. There is another saying: "Those who talk big cannot get things done." For an old man with grand ambitions and great strategy, believing that a wet-behind-the-ears boy had any real capability was harder than climbing to the heavens.

However, as their contact increased—whether he offered praise and favors or probed and restrained—Deng She remained neither angry nor joyful, neither proud nor impatient. In all his years of judging people, Guan Duo had never seen a young man with such depth of character. Hong Jixun’s past assessment—"Intelligent and good at defense, with a capacity to hold all rivers; brave and able to command, winning the hearts of the soldiers"—now carried an entirely different weight.

Guan Duo muttered to himself, " 'Intelligent and good at defense'—Director Yao’s assessment was very accurate."

He had also witnessed the "winning the hearts of the soldiers." The question was, to what extent? Winning the hearts of fierce generals like Yang Wanhu was not difficult, but winning the hearts of scholars was hard, and winning the hearts of brilliant strategists was even harder. One must believe in its possibility. If Hong Jixun’s eight characters were sincere? Guan Duo tapped his fingers on the desk, his perception of Deng She shifting completely. The deeper he thought, the more he turned to the phrase "brave and able to command." If that, too, were true, then Deng She truly "could not be left alive."

Mao Jujing saw he was lost in thought and whispered, "Lord?"

"Hmm?" Guan Duo regained his composure and gave a self-deprecating smile. *Whether it is true or not, I will find a chance to test him.* He asked, "If Hong Jixun has no ulterior motives, where does the change in Shuangcheng lie? Is it discord between the civil and military factions?"

"The Lord is perceptive. That is precisely it. Although Hong Jixun is valued by Xiao Deng, he has no roots in the army. The actual military power is held by Chen Hu in Shuangcheng, and by Wenhua Guo and Zhao Guo in Pyongyang, who hold their respective commands.

"Wenhua and Zhao are rough and simple-minded. Even though they don't like Hong Jixun, they respect Xiao Deng’s orders. Besides, Pyongyang is far away, so they are not an issue. But Chen Hu is a man of high pride and deep ambition. Stationed in Shuangcheng, he often clashes with Hong Jixun. Take this defense against Shenyang for example—the day before he led the troops out of the city, the two of them were arguing about something; it is said that they broke up the council meeting in a state of mutual resentment."

Mao Jujing was overjoyed. "Lord, once the war in Southern Liaoning settles, Chen Hu returns, and Xiao Deng is absent, in time, you can reap the rewards."

"Reap the rewards? Relying on others is not as good as relying on oneself. Write back to Director Yao: with such an opportunity, we cannot sit and wait. Ask him to find the right moment to fan the flames and push them along."

"Yes."

Guan Duo rose, brushing off his sleeves. The midday summer sun shone upon him. He had not removed his armor, which reflected a dazzling brilliance. Both Mao Jujing and the messenger were momentarily blinded. Southern Liaoning, Shenyang, Western Liaoning, Goryeo—though the Liaodong region was treacherous, the old stallion still had ambition; the fortress was like iron, and he would begin his journey anew.

He asked, "Do you two know my ambition?"

Mao Jujing and the messenger, both his confidants, exchanged a look. One thought: *The heroes of the world are rising together.* The other thought: *Declare independence in the south, rule as king in the north.* They said, "The Lord’s ambitions are high and far-reaching; this humble one (this subordinate) dare not guess."

Guan Duo looked to the heavens and laughed, reciting softly: "Like the Duke of Zhou who spit out his food to welcome scholars, may the hearts of the world return to me." He looked out beyond the hall at the vast blue sky, where the clouds rolled like dragons.