Volume 3: Heroes Are Silent While Heaven and Earth Grow Old Chapter 31: Gaizhou IV

After inspecting the Variegated Camp, Deng She returned to the central military tent, where officers of the rank of chiliarch and above had been waiting for a long time. There was no major agenda for this temporary military council; since the objective had already been established, the remaining tasks were merely to refine the details and calculate the strengths of both sides.

The grain and fodder carried by the army were sufficient to sustain them until they rendezvoused with Chen Hu. As for the subsequent supply trains, Deng She had long since ordered Wen Huaguo and Zhao Guo to oversee them when he issued the directive to reorganize the army in Pyongyang.

Few of the officers and soldiers in the army had ever been to Gaizhou. To familiarize themselves with the terrain and know both themselves and the enemy, Deng She had commanded Chen Hu to immediately begin searching for guides upon arriving at the Pousuo Inspectorate. Meanwhile, Chen Zhe, who had previously traveled by land to Jin and Fu prefectures with a trading caravan, happened to be in Pyongyang and had not yet set out again; Deng She had already ordered him to join the expedition.

As for the number of Yuan soldiers in Gaizhou, both sides were already well aware of it. Although Deng She had not personally engaged them in battle, he had long heard tales of their combat effectiveness. While he could not claim to know everything about them, he at least had some idea, ensuring he would not be operating completely in the dark.

After discussing the necessary precautions point by point, Fang Buzhen put forward a suggestion. He said, "There are far too many wounded men in our army, which drastically slows our marching speed. At this rate, let alone three days, we won't reach the Pousuo Inspectorate in five or ten days. Slowing down the march is one thing, but if we miss the rendezvous because of this, causing a negative impact on Liaoyang and the entire Liaoning region, the losses will outweigh the gains. General, in this perilous situation, we cannot afford to harbor womanly kindness. My advice is to leave the wounded behind, quartering them in villages along the way among the peasant households, and come back to pick them up later."

Through days of interaction, Deng She had gained some understanding of Fang Buzhen's character. Unlike Yao Haogu, Fang treated common soldiers and martial men with a detachment rather similar to that of Hong Jixun. He viewed them as mere grass and reckless brutes, forced to use them on one hand while looking down on them on the other—much like a worn-out rag to be discarded once used.

Li Jing strongly opposed the idea. "Quarter them in peasant households? Whose households? Who could possibly be fooled by such empty nonsense? We can absolutely not do this! Yesterday—yesterday in battle, our brothers all bathed in blood, each striving to the utmost; facing the Tatars' iron cavalry, they refused to yield even in death. And—and now, because they are wounded, they are useless? If you abandon them today, what will the other brothers think? There is a saying about the rabbit dying and the fox grieving. When—when tomorrow comes, how can you expect them to kill the enemy for you and me?"

Xu Ren, experienced and advanced in years, had seen much of military life and was accustomed to the sight of life and death, unlike Li Jing. Pondering the matter, he said, "Lord Fang's point makes sense." Rather than considering the long-term view, he focused on the immediate situation: "General, setting aside whether this will delay our rendezvous or cause us to miss the appointed time, we cannot let down our guard regarding the Tatars of Mount Dongmou, even though they are not currently pursuing us. Once they encircle us, it won't just be a hundred or so wounded soldiers who die."

Having experienced yesterday's bitter battle, both Xu Ren and Fang Buzhen—nominally Deng She's deputy and actual supervisor respectively—seemed to have accepted Deng She as the true commander-in-chief. In both tone and demeanor, they had adopted the attitudes of subordinates.

However, Deng She had no time to dwell on such details. The proposals put forward by Fang Buzhen and Xu Ren were ones he had already considered himself; it was indeed a profound dilemma.

What Li Jing said was true. Talk of quartering them in peasant households was transparently deceitful, the kind of nonsense used to fool children. To leave them behind was to send them to their deaths. Yet, on the other hand, the concerns raised by Fang and Xu were also valid: dragging them along delayed the march and threatened the safety of the entire army.

Unable to find an immediate answer, Deng She reflected on the past. In urgent military campaigns, precedent for abandoning the wounded was commonplace. But he had just gone to the Variegated Camp to lift the soldiers' spirits; to turn around and abandon them would be to slap his own face.

Moreover, looking at it from another angle, the greater the danger, the easier it was to win people's loyalty. History offered fine examples: in order to rally the hearts of the people, Liu Bei, despite being a defeated general with shattered forces, refused to abandon the elders who followed him, risking total ruin to earn a reputation for benevolence.

To be sure, Liu Bei had faced a specific context at the time, wandering in desperation without a secure place to settle, driven to such a risky gamble by necessity. And what about himself? Though he held Shuangcheng, he lacked deep roots in Liaoning. With upheaval looming in Liaoyang, the crux of the Battle of Gaizhou was not whether it could be taken, but whether it could be secured for his own use after victory.

An army of righteousness wins the throne; a righteous army wins the battle. This was not merely about the life or death of a hundred or so wounded men. Handled properly, it could expand his reputation among the Red Turbans of Liaoning, especially since many of the wounded were Guan Duo's direct subordinates.

After a moment of thought, Deng She said, "I think General Li is right. The brothers risked their lives and faced death; we must not chill their hearts." Turning to Li Jing, he ordered, "Gather some warhorses and assign them to the Variegated Camp. Use horses to pull carts; that will increase the speed considerably. However, Lord Fang and General Xu's concerns are not without merit. We must maintain high vigilance against the Tatars of Mount Dongmou. Send out more scouts and prepare for battle at all times."

Deng She judged that if the Yuan army at Mount Dongmou had intended to pursue them, they would have set out long ago. Their failure to appear suggested, with a probability of eighty or ninety percent, precisely what Xu Ren had surmised earlier: first, yesterday's fierce battle had inflicted heavy casualties on them; second, his own force of a few thousand battered troops was temporarily insignificant compared to their primary focus, which likely remained upon Pan Mei.

Of course, this was merely a judgment. In the unlikely event of a miscalculation, with scouts dispatched thirty miles out, there was still room to adjust whether or not to abandon the wounded.

Fang Buzhen curled his lip in quiet disapproval, though he pressed his objection no further. Xu Ren opened his mouth to speak, swallowed his words, and finally remarked, "The General is truly benevolent." Unlike Fang Buzhen, as a martial man and a military officer, he could not entirely escape the sentiment of a grieving fox when a fellow rabbit died. In his heart, he too was reluctant to abandon the wounded.

Meanwhile, the cooks had prepared the meal. It was a simple fare: large cauldrons of boiled sorghum with virtually no vegetables, let alone any trace of oil or meat. Filling their stomachs had to pass for a good meal. Even so, this was a special ration, far more abundant than their usual portions.

During the Yuan dynasty, military households were required to provide men for military service, with soldiers generally expected to supply their own provisions. Later, some changes were introduced, whereby the state provided minor subsidies to active soldiers. For instance, Han troops were issued weapons, and each man received five dou of rice and one catty of salt per month—an amount naturally insufficient, leaving them to fend for themselves for the rest.

The Red Turban military system, comprising Marshal Mansions, Myriarchs, and Chiliarchs, largely imitated the Yuan military. Yet, in the distribution of grain and pay, they could not replicate it due to their own limited conditions. Often, they ate much when supplies were plentiful, ate little when they were scarce, and ate nothing when they ran out. And what if there was nothing to eat? They were told to "forage for grain"—meaning they had to plunder it themselves.

Plundering offered only two paths: taking from the Yuan army, which was rarely feasible, or taking from the local common people, where might made right. The latter was precisely one of the primary reasons for the proliferation of local gentry militias—the so-called "Green Armies."

The aroma of food filled the entire camp. Deng She, Xu Ren, and the others ate the exact same meal as the common soldiers. The rough sorghum was difficult to swallow, yet against the backdrop of gnawing hunger, the lingering aftertaste was surprisingly fresh and enticing. Downing soup and grain alike, Deng She devoured three large bowls in one breath before tossing his bowl aside with satisfaction. Wiping his mouth, he smiled at the others and said, "I was so starved, it feels as though I haven't eaten a meal this fragrant in ages." Looking around, he saw every soldier covered in dust and grime, wolfing down their food, and felt a profound sense of emotion.

One cannot know the price of rice without experiencing troubled times. A single meal was hard to come by, let alone three. Among the soldiers in the camp, how many had enlisted for the meager aspiration of simply eating their fill of rice?

Deng She thought once more of the wounded men in the Variegated Camp. Even from a moral standpoint, they could not be abandoned. Yet this thought flashed only momentarily. A commander cannot afford excessive compassion; how could one accomplish great things with a soft heart?

He chuckled wryly at his own hypocrisy. Unwilling to dwell any longer on cold calculations of interest, his gaze shifted and landed on Liu Yang. Liu Yang had fought brilliantly in the hill-climbing defense battle. Since Deng She possessed the authority to promote officers below the rank of myriarch at his own discretion, he had rewarded Liu's merits after the battle by elevating him to deputy chiliarch, thereby granting him the standing to attend the military council.

Among the officers present, Liu Yang had by far the most unrefined table manners. Clasping a large bowl like a starving ghost, with his head almost buried inside it, he shoveled the food into his mouth without pause. Deng She could not help laughing and said, "Why the rush? No one is going to steal it from you."

Liu Yang lifted his head, his mouth full of rice grains while soup streamed down the front of his tunic. He offered a simple, honest smile, swallowed hard to clear the food from his mouth, and mumbled, "Once you're full... you feel secure."

Deng She burst into laughter. The sun climbed steadily higher, though it carried not a shred of warmth. Above the boundless expanse of plains and hills, an endless sea of blue sky was piled with clouds like trails of endless cotton thread.

The subsequent journey proceeded with remarkable smoothness. On the second day, they encountered a roving band of local Green Armies numbering around a hundred. Deng She could not be bothered with them; he merely seized their warhorses and let them go. On the third day, the scouts of the Yuan army from Mount Dongmou, who had been trailing far behind, apparently decided there was no value in continuing the pursuit and turned back.

Along the way, those Tatar scouts had been exceedingly cunning. Refusing to approach, they kept a distance of over ten miles. Xu Ren had dispatched men and laid ambushes twice, but the scouts either avoided engagement or made detours through hidden paths, fleeing instantly at the slightest sign of trouble.

Since they were elite Yuan soldiers equipped with few men and numerous mounts, their movements were highly mobile and flexible. The plains offered no decent terrain for concealment or ambush, and Xu Ren failed every single time, feeling thoroughly humiliated in Deng She's presence. Seeing them finally retreat of their own accord felt like removing a thorn from his eye.

"Damned Tatars!" Xu Ren spat bitterly onto the ground.

Deng She wore a look of worry. He did not fear those Tatar scouts returning to report; even if Nahachu learned that he was heading to attack Gaizhou, so what? At most, it would serve as a warning to Gao Jianu, but with Liaoyang blocking the path, reinforcements were out of the question.

His anxiety stemmed from another matter. The following night, his fears were confirmed. A scout returning from the rear reported that Mount Dongmou had fallen; Pan Mei's breakout attempt had failed, and his entire army was annihilated. The Yuan soldiers had severed the heads of all the fallen Red Turban soldiers—not for military merit, but reportedly because Nahachu intended to load them onto carts and display them beneath the walls of Liaoyang City.

Deng She asked the question that concerned him most: "Where did the Tatars retreat to?" He prayed they wouldn't finish off Mount Dongmou and then come after his own force.

"They returned to Shenyang."

Xu Ren and the others visibly relaxed. Deng She asked, "Were there any brothers who managed to escape?"

"Not a single one was seen; all I saw were corpses," the scout reported. "The Tatars left in a hurry. Before departing, they gathered the bodies of our soldiers into over a dozen small mounds and set them ablaze. When I arrived, the Tatars had already retreated half a day earlier, yet ten miles away, the flames were still reaching the sky..."

The tragic scene was beyond bearing to witness. Overcome with grief, tears welled in the scout's eyes as he continued, "The entire mountain was burned bare. Everywhere there were headless corpses, severed limbs, charred, blackened, and reeking... flocks of vicious birds, vast as clouds, covered the battlefield, spreading everywhere."

Deng She asked, "What of Pan Mei? Is there any news?"

The scout shook his head and said, "In front of the mountain of corpses, I saw a makeshift execution ground. Those who died within it were entirely chiliarchs and above from our army. Among them was a headless corpse, and the armor discarded beside it appeared to belong to General Pan."

"Discarded beside the corpse?" Fang Buzhen asked in bewilderment. He had never heard of a tradition among the Yuan army where prisoners were stripped naked before execution; it seemed rather strange.

A look of unbearable sorrow crossed the scout's face as he said, "General Pan, he... his chest was cut open and his heart taken out." Pausing for a moment, he added, "Not just General Pan; all the other officers of chiliarch rank and above suffered the same fate."

Fang Buzhen turned pale with shock. To execute a man and carve out his heart—setting aside the sheer cruelty of it, what purpose did a heart serve? Surely not to be kept as a trophy; judging by what he had heard, it had most likely been eaten.

Deng She remained silent for a long moment. He thought to himself, *I did not kill Bo Ren, yet Bo Ren died because of me.* Even Guan Duo, who belonged to a different faction, had praised Pan Mei as the pearl of the army. Yet he had died just like that, in such a horrific manner.

Slowly, he spoke: "To have suffered the cruel punishment of having his heart cut out by the Tatars shows that young General Pan must have remained unyielding unto death. He is truly a loyal martyr of our Great Song and a hero of the Han people. Guards, send a message to Liaoyang and Guangning, asking Pacification Commissioner Pan to restrain his grief and asking Pacification Commissioner Guan to reward merits accordingly, so as to comfort the heroic spirits of General Pan and all the soldiers who died in battle."

Just as his voice trailed away, Bi Qianniu raised his head, stammering slightly as if wanting to speak. Deng She shook his head at him, and Bi Qianniu instantly grasped Deng She's intention: to use this opportunity to test Guan Duo's bottom line and see how he would react to their army launching an attack on Gaizhou without prior authorization.

And that was for the best. The situation was starkly evident; Guan Duo was hard-pressed to manage his own affairs and would undoubtedly swallow this bitter pill in silence. He might even shower Deng She with heavy praise simply to hold onto this sole remaining usable army at hand.

With the loss of Mount Dongmou, Shenyang was now freed up. It was safe to assume that a fierce battle for Liaoyang was imminent. As they marched further and further southeast, the operating range of their scouts became restricted, and they had received no news of the Shenyang Yuan army for days. Deng She surmised that their vanguard heading for Liaoyang had likely already reached the city walls.

Deng She cautioned everyone: "The fall of Mount Dongmou is something known only to you and me. Aside from those present here, let not a soul hear of it, lest it dampen our morale and throw the army into panic."

Four days later, they met a thousand-man reinforcement detachment sent by Chen Hu along the way. With the addition of fresh troops, the morale of the army climbed even higher.