Volume One: In a Chaotic World, Is There a Path for Humanity? Chapter 24: Yongping III

By the time Deng She and his companions arrived, dusk had already fallen.

Lulong County was not large, and in these war-torn times, the city gates were closed early. The Red Turbans made their way silently, not encountering a single soul. Beyond the county seat lay fertile fields and rich soil, clear streams meandering, and trees growing thickly together. Looking westward, in the vastness of night, the distant mountains stretched like a dark ribbon, their ridges undulating endlessly.

Deng She ordered his troops to halt in a desolate forest some ten miles outside the city. His command was strict: no fires, horses and men to muffle all sound, and absolutely no talking. From the woods, the towering walls of Yongping Prefecture could already be seen, majestic and lit with scattered lanterns; within, the city’s residents were not yet asleep.

He summoned He Guangxiu and, with a gentle expression, asked, “By now, Yongping’s gates must be closed. Can you get inside?”

At this crucial moment, He Guangxiu appeared utterly untroubled. With a hint of pride, he replied, “Rest assured, sir. Among the soldiers guarding Yongping’s gates, there are some who know me well. They’re also aware I left the city with the mongrel Qing troops. If anyone can call for the gates to open, it’s me.”

Deng She studied him for a long moment, puzzled by his calm demeanor. He kept his doubts to himself and nodded. “There’s little time. I’m worried you won’t manage alone. I’ll send a few men with you to ensure success.” He called Zhao Guo over. “Brother, pick two or three dozen brave fellows who don’t fear death. Take some veterans, dress in Qing army uniforms, and pose as Goryeo Qing soldiers. Go into the city with him.”

He also called Wen Huaguo, who had always been skilled at coordinating with inside men from his days as a bandit. Among those entering the city, he would lead.

Zhao Guo readily agreed. He Guangxiu, knowing this was to be expected, displayed no surprise and pounded his chest in loyalty. “Even if I must walk through fire and water, I would never dare to delay your great enterprise, sir. And to those accompanying me into the city, please, let the questioning at the gate be left to me; do not respond yourselves.”

His words and actions were entirely natural, even more relaxed than before. The generals couldn’t help but be suspicious. Wen Huaguo stepped forward, blunt as ever. “You rascal! Why are you so at ease? Don’t tell me you harbor some treacherous intent?”

The accusation made He Guangxiu’s neck go limp; he prostrated himself, pounding his head against the ground in protest, nearly frantic. “How can you say that, sir? That would truly be an injustice! Though crippled, I am no opportunist. I dare to boast of my loyalty. To be taken in by such a strong force as yours brings me nothing but joy—how could I think of betrayal? If only I could cut out my heart to show you!”

Wen Huaguo sneered, “Do your job honestly, and you’ll be rewarded. If you try anything, know that I’m an expert at skinning traitors alive.”

The soldiers chosen to enter the city had already been selected. Zhao Guo called them over, and they all changed into Qing army uniforms. They raised a banner, designed according to He Guangxiu’s description of the ones the Goryeo troops used.

He Guangxiu had claimed there were a thousand Goryeo people in Yongping, but under Deng She’s careful questioning, it turned out he had exaggerated; he’d meant the entire Yongping route, though most were indeed in the city. The reason for so many Goryeo was Yongping’s proximity to Dadu, its wealth and safety attracting both those seeking fortune in the capital and those returning home in failure to Liaodong.

Before departure, Deng She reminded Wen Huaguo and Zhao Guo, “Be cautious in all things. Uncle Wen, you are in charge. Once the task is done, set a fire as the signal. Success or failure depends on this.”

Wen Huaguo laughed heartily. “I’ve done things like this so often it comes as second nature. Just wait for good news.”

Contacting the Goryeo within the city would take time, and hiding eight hundred men outside was no easy feat. Thus, Deng She agreed with them to strike at midnight two days hence, choosing the weakest point: the West Gate.

After sending Wen Huaguo and the others off, Deng She felt the forest was not well concealed. He sent scouts to find a better hiding place and survey the terrain. Twenty miles outside Yongping stood a small hill, not high, with sparse trees. But its base was watered by a stream, and there were no signs of people nearby. Upon hearing the scouts’ report, Deng She immediately led his people up the hill at night.

Atop the hill, they found a sheltered spot and cleaned it, laying out captured Qing army banners and clothing as thick bedding, hanging some from the trees to form a makeshift tent for the exhausted Lady Wang to rest. He then dispatched cavalry to set up sentries, assigned areas for Chen Hu’s troops, distributed rations, and sent men for water.

After more than ten days on the road, Lady Wang was much diminished. Though Deng She cared for her as best he could, the hardships of marching were unbearable. Her ears were frostbitten, and her delicate hands covered with raw blisters.

The moment she lay down, her body ached all over, her thighs especially burning from the saddle’s chafing. She hadn’t bathed since the fall of Dongsheng Prefecture; her own scent overwhelmed the sachet she wore.

Though exhausted, sleep eluded her. One moment she was grateful for the chance to rest before the siege; the next, she lamented the state of her once-tender skin; sometimes she planned how to reward herself after taking Yongping; sometimes she imagined leading a hundred thousand into Shangdu.

The night deepened. Outside, the troops obeyed orders and kept absolute silence. The stream below murmured softly, blending with the wind. An itch spread over her body; she longed for a bath but resisted—she was not one to put her own comfort above the greater good.

She could faintly hear Deng She discussing the assault with a handful of his officers.

Her thoughts drifted to Deng She’s attentiveness—or perhaps his loyalty. She was thoroughly satisfied with him; not only was he devoted and considerate, unlike the crude Wen Huaguo, but his manners bore a certain elegance. This was a mark of Deng She’s past education, though she attributed it to his having attended private school as a child.

A pity, she thought, that he was not her family’s servant.

Still, once back in Shangdu, she could ask her husband to take him as one. At this thought, her mood improved, and she soon fell asleep—never once considering whether Deng She would agree, for in her eyes, only a fool would refuse her goodwill.

Day followed night.

In two days, Deng She slept only three hours. As the appointed moment approached, the pressure grew heavier. He fretted over Wen Huaguo and Zhao Guo’s safety, and whether the siege would succeed.

He was not the only one tense. Huang Donkey and Luo Guoqi were even more so. At lunch, Deng She saw the two of them rehearsing the assault on the ground, so absorbed that, instead of eating their pancakes, they each unconsciously ate two lumps of earth from their right hands, neither noticing.

Chen Hu was as taciturn as ever; his calm made Deng She envious. The most relaxed was Li the Monk—he ate and slept, slept and ate. Curiously, since the plan to capture Yongping had been set, Li the Monk had grown much more obedient, no longer finding fault with everything as before, and even occasionally addressed Deng She with a touch of respect.

Deng She knew he couldn’t let his unease show. With Lady Wang’s support, he was, in name, the highest commander of the eight hundred. Any sign of worry would unsettle the troops. So, most of the time, he leaned against a tree, eyes closed, feigning rest.

On the third day.

That afternoon, Deng She sent scouts to reconnoiter Yongping’s outer walls. The city was quiet, showing no sign of alarm. Outside, peasants joked coarsely with each other as they returned home in small groups, shouldering their hoes. In these troubled times, the gates were closed early, and before dusk, the city was sealed.

Deng She ordered his men to eat their rations and ready their weapons, then waited patiently for nightfall, leaving several squads behind to protect Lady Wang. Compared to midnight, they set out an hour earlier.

Up close, the city walls of Yongping showed recent heightening and thickening: fresh earth, sharply distinct from the old brick, marked two colors. A river ran outside the city, not deep but artificially widened. On the gate tower, a great banner hung, its folds stirring in the wind. The city itself lay in darkness, utterly silent.

Crouched two or three miles from the walls, Deng She stared fixedly at the city gate.

The air was biting cold; torches flickered on the ramparts, passing the West Gate and slowly disappearing—night patrols. Eight hundred men and their mounts crouched in silence; now and then a horse would snort softly, instantly calmed by its rider.

The moon rose high, midnight arrived.

Deng She was sweating, his mouth dry; he gripped his spear, released it, then gripped it again. Chen Hu stood silently beside him, shielding him from the wind.

A quarter past midnight, and still the gate was silent and black.

Li the Monk glanced up at the densely clouded sky, hunching his shoulders and muttering, “It’s been gloomy all this way. If it’s going to rain, let it rain and be done—it’s better than this torment.”

Suddenly, shouts echoed faintly from within the gate, though indistinct. Deng She strained to listen. There came a thunderous crash, and hundreds of voices erupted in a chaotic roar, mingled with the screams of the dying. The city gate swung wide with a resounding clang. Within, torchlight flared, a bright path opening into Yongping.

At this moment, Deng She was utterly calm. He leapt to his feet, mounted his horse, raised his spear, and called out, turning, his voice ringing loud and clear, “Take the city, and we celebrate for three days! Food, drink, and treasure—everyone will have their share!”