Volume One: In Troubled Times, Is There a Path in the World? Chapter 33: Honing the Army III

Apologies for yesterday's absence; I will make up for it and post another five thousand words tonight.

——

The Yuan army detachment that escaped was identified as the unit led by Zhang Jujing from Xingzhou, as gathered from the captives. The influential Shi Jia Bao was stationed at Daining and had not joined them. Perhaps this was also why Xingzhou managed a successful breakout, and the Qing Army at Daining surrendered.

The total attacking Yuan forces numbered six thousand. Of their thousand cavalry, eight hundred perished, and among the infantry, casualties were around a thousand. Two thousand managed to flee, and just over two thousand surrendered. As for their own losses: Wen and Chen's combined four thousand men lost a thousand during the cavalry charge, several hundred more while cutting down dismounted riders, and another few hundred in the final assault on the Yuan infantry. Including the lightly wounded, about two thousand remained. Of all casualties, nearly a hundred and ten fell not to the enemy, but to battlefield discipline or friendly fire from their own firearms and arrows.

Li the Monk's cavalry suffered few casualties, just over two hundred. The units of Guan, Luo, and Deng She only participated in the counterattack and had minimal losses. In total, they left Yongping with thirteen thousand troops, and after this battle, over nine thousand remained. The exchange rate with the enemy averaged two to one.

And this was in their favor. For a long time, Deng She remained silent, shaken by the thought that, had the wind not changed favorably or He Guangxiu not offered his bold strategy, their camp would have been lost beyond doubt.

After such a grand battle, rewards and recognition were necessary to sustain morale. That very afternoon, Deng She summoned the entire army to assemble at the camp gate, where arrows littered the ground and cannon craters marked the earth. Thousands formed up by divisions, banners fluttering before each unit. At the entrance, a command platform was erected, backed by several large drums. Drummers, arms bared and mallets raised, beat out a powerful, measured rhythm.

Deng She ascended the platform, followed in file by Wen, Chen, Zhao, Li, Guan, Luo, Huang, He, and the two Lus. Each general pressed a hand to his sword, cloaks trailing behind, heads held high, gleaming helms and resplendent armor.

Three hundred personal guards ringed the platform. Off to one side stood several dozen soldiers with booming voices, ready to serve as heralds—Deng She would speak a command, and they would repeat it, ensuring all heard.

Standing at the center of the raised platform, Deng She watched as the officers of a thousand men or more formed two lines according to rank. Overhead, the sun blazed; the wind had calmed, and spring warmth swept away the cold. Compared to the previous night, it was a different world.

He paused in silence; the army stood as still as a forest of spears, not a sound to be heard.

"Last night, the Tartars attempted a surprise attack, hoping to catch us unprepared. Yet fate favored us: first, our scouts brought warning; then, a mighty wind rose, heralding our victory. Our camp was solid, our troops rested and ready. The enemy’s thunderous momentum was met by our unwavering resolve. Some among you devised ingenious stratagems, focusing force and wit at the critical moment. Heaven, earth, and man were all on our side. Thus, before the first drumbeat had faded, news of victory arrived. The Tartars, heads in their hands, fled in panic, like mice drowned by a sudden flood."

After summarizing the night’s battle, he raised his voice: "Fortune and terrain are Heaven and Earth’s favor upon Great Song and our army. But it was you, the soldiers, who fought to the death without retreat, who truly brought victory. Without your valor, we would not be standing here today. The cowardly will be punished, the brave rewarded. Those with merit shall advance, those without shall be encouraged. Your deeds last night are engraved in my memory, stirring my heart and lifting our spirit!" He called out, "Judge Advocate!"

Chen Hu stepped forward, chest out. "I am here, General."

"In battle, when an unexpected strategy leads to enemy defeat, what is the reward?"

"Such extraordinary merit cannot be measured by ordinary standards; the commander has the authority to immediately record and reward it. For those of a thousand-man command or higher, the rank is raised by one grade."

Deng She nodded. From a wooden tray held by his guard, he took a freshly forged golden tiger tally. "For last night’s victory, first merit goes to He Guangxiu. By military order: promoted to deputy ten-thousand commander. Receive the golden tiger tally."

He Guangxiu’s joy was palpable; he nearly leapt forward, knelt, and kowtowed with resounding thuds.

In a hoarse voice, he shouted, "General, your might is unmatched! If not for your kingly presence inspiring us all, how could I have devised any clever plan? All glory belongs to you, General! I am overwhelmed and will follow your banner to the death, undefeated and unburied!"

Some generals sneered, others smiled. Deng She coughed, signaling his guards to pull He Guangxiu away.

He continued, "At the first clash at the camp gate, Wen Huaguo bore the brunt of the attack, braving arrows and stones, fighting stubbornly to halt the enemy, preventing their iron cavalry from advancing a single step. Without General Wen, there would have been no opportunity for strategy. Judge Advocate, what is the reward?"

"In battle, to face more with fewer is superior; equal numbers is average; to overcome fewer with more is lesser. General Wen, with two thousand infantry, held back a thousand of the enemy’s elite cavalry—this counts as an average engagement. For merit: promoted by two grades."

Deng She nodded, "Record this merit. I will submit a report to the court. The imperial appointment will come later, but for your courage in leading from the front, I will reward you immediately, above the usual scale. For your decisive action in crisis, your merit is unparalleled; today’s reward will be generous. By military order: grant one silver ingot and one hundred bolts of silk."

Such a lavish reward was meant to inspire the entire army.

Though he now commanded ten thousand men, his formal rank in the Northern Expedition army of Great Song was only that of a hundred-man commander. Actual command lay with him, but any promotion above a thousand-man command required going through the motions.

Deng She had grown ever clearer about the situation in Liaodong. He need not march to the capital; like other commanders, he could form his own independent army.

Consider Mao Gui in Shandong, Li Wu and Cui De in Shaanxi, even Guan Duo in Liaodong: all were isolated by Yuan garrisons, and their forces included many defeated rebel groups. Their ties to Henan were tenuous. On major issues, they might obey orders, but in details, each made his own decisions. Besides them, many smaller Red Turban bands claimed the Song title while operating independently.

To develop further, he must continue to honor the Little Ming King’s Longfeng reign.

In truth, self-rule was the least of his concerns. Given the present hardships, survival was his priority. His army of new recruits, though victorious last night, owed much to fortune. His foremost task was to secure a foothold.

Next, he awarded Chen Hu, Zhao Guo, Li the Monk, Guan Shirong, Luo Guoqi, Huang the Mule, and others, promoting some, granting others honorary ranks or material rewards, all recorded by Chen Hu.

Wu Henian, who suggested watching for omens, had helped inspire the troops, but Deng She would not reward such timorous types—men who feared death were to be kept down, not encouraged.

After rewarding the officers, it was the soldiers’ turn.

First up was Zhang Daier. Deng She made him bare his torso to receive his reward. The weather had warmed, so he was not cold. Zhang Daier, a veteran, was covered in scars, yet stood tall and proud, unbowed by his new wounds. Two guards tried to steady him, but he brushed them aside, standing resolute before the platform.

The afternoon sunlight fell upon him; he stood like a mountain, embodying the spirit of advancing against thousands.

Deng She descended personally, ordered strong wine brought, and, after a long speech, addressed the army: "These are the wounds on Commander Zhang’s body. Over twenty old scars, all on the chest and ribs, not one on the back. Such a warrior cannot be left to command just a hundred. He is the very heart of our army. All should take him as their model. If all fought thus, we would sweep across the world. Do not cling to life, men; glory and wealth are yours for the taking!"

Such heroes were indeed rare. Talent was precious; Deng She changed his mind and proclaimed, "He scouted the enemy, fought to the death, charged the camp, all wounds to the fore, unafraid of death, enhancing our prestige. By military order: promote Zhang Daier to commander of a thousand, grant one silver ingot and fifty bolts of silk."

He asked Zhang Daier, "What weapon do you favor?"

To be acclaimed by the supreme commander before the entire army, and to receive rewards only slightly less than Wen Huaguo’s, Zhang Daier was overwhelmed. "The spear, sir."

"Bring my spear!"

Deng She summoned his guards to bring his own iron spear, presenting it to Zhang Daier. "Before I was ten, I used a bamboo bow to kill enemies; at thirteen, my foster father gave me this spear. I have fought across the land, slain thousands, and not parted with it for five or six years. Today, I give it to you. Your valor will not disgrace its edge." He exaggerated his age for effect.

Without waiting for Zhang Daier’s reply, Deng She raised a cup of wine, toasting him personally. "Drain this cup. With spear in hand, General Zhang stands alone!"

Page 1 of 3

Page 2 of 3

Deng She’s string of praise, lavish rewards, and heartfelt gestures could have moved a heart of stone, let alone Zhang Daier, a man of loyalty and honor. He raised the cup in both hands, drained it in one gulp, tears streaming down his face. "I swear to serve as your vanguard to the death, General!"

The scene beneath the platform moved not only Zhang Daier but all the bloodied, valiant soldiers. Their grip on their weapons grew so tight their knuckles turned white; each felt a surge of strength, yearning to seize glory and riches as Zhang Daier had. The banner bearers’ spirits soared—they wished they could be in the midst of the enemy right now, flags flying as they charged.

A ripple of excitement swept through the dark ranks. Fresh from victory, the army’s morale reached its peak.

When Zhang Daier had stepped down, the bravest and fiercest from last night’s battle formed a line before the platform—thirty-two in all, mostly new recruits under Wen and Chen, but also some cavalry and gunners.

Deng She stepped down, questioned each by name, examined their wounds, and had his guards offer wine. He promoted them all to hundred-man commanders and rewarded them with money and goods.

That morning at the council, all generals had agreed to integrate the surrendered Qing Army. These men would serve as officers alongside Deng She’s old comrades. Of the two thousand surrendered, a thousand were assigned to Wen and Chen, the rest formed a new unit under Zhang Daier’s command.

Zhang Daier, a veteran, was no novice in military administration.

After rewarding them, there remained a dozen who had killed their officers to surrender. According to earlier promises, they were to be made officers, but Deng She hesitated. Fratricide might be welcome in the enemy’s ranks, but in his own, never. If he failed to reward them, his word would be worthless; if he did reward them, it would set a dangerous precedent.

Torn, he decided the military order could not be changed; but he would make the appointments in such a way that all could see the reward was a mixed blessing.

These men had killed three Qing Army hundred-man commanders. Following regulations, the instigators were made hundred-man commanders; accomplices were demoted one rank, made decurions, and all assigned to the surrendered unit. He instructed Zhang Daier and others to quietly spread the word that those who kill their officers are beneath dogs and swine, encouraging the Qing soldiers to despise them.

As he suspected, not one of these men survived a month. For each death, Deng She handled it as routinely as he had with the steward Liu: the corpse was punished, then given a lavish burial. As for their killers among the surrendered troops, he punished them severely.

Worried that the routed armies of Xingzhou and Daining might return in force, Deng She and his officers dared not linger.

Three days later was considered an auspicious day for departure—a belief Deng She did not share, though his officers and men did. So he ordered three days’ rest, for burial of the dead, and distributed one string of cash per man, double for the fallen. The spoils tallied: two hundred firearms, six hundred horses, over a thousand sets of usable armor and weapons.

Armor and weapons were loaded onto wagons; firearms and horses distributed to selected soldiers, raising the number of gunners to six hundred and cavalry to fifteen hundred.

The night before departure, an unexpected visitor arrived.

Madam Wang had returned. The officer guarding the camp gate was an old comrade and recognized her, bringing her to the command tent.

Inside, they were discussing the march. Hearing the news, Deng She wondered why she had returned so suddenly. He paused the meeting and invited her in. Seeing her dressed as a refugee, hair disheveled, shoes and robe both tattered, shivering in the chilly night, he was startled and rushed to remove his cloak and wrap it around her, ordered warm water and food, and asked, "Madam, what has happened? Did you meet with a storm at sea? Was your boat wrecked?"

His kindness and the warmth of the tent reminded Madam Wang of her hardships: nights of wind and dew, fear and hunger. She fought back tears, knowing she must maintain her dignity before the assembled officers. She wrapped the cloak tightly and looked around the tent.

Deng She quickly dismissed the officers. Only then did Madam Wang speak: "Though the sea was rough, I managed. Midway, we encountered a merchant ship short on water, so I ordered our boat alongside to buy some."

Before departure, they had prepared only a few barrels of fresh water—for a short voyage, surely enough. Clearly, she had wasted it washing, so they ran out before reaching Shandong. Deng She concealed his disdain and asked, "Was it not a merchant, but a pirate?"

Madam Wang, noticing her bound feet peeking from her worn shoes, tucked them back under the cloak and answered, "They were merchants. While fetching water, my attendants chatted with them and learned they had come from Shandong. They mentioned that Mao, the chief minister, is dead."

Deng She was truly shocked. "Illness? Battle?"

"Killed by Prince Yongyi."

Prince Yongyi was Zhao Junyong, a former village head from Pi County, Xuzhou. He and seven others seized Xuzhou, but after the defeat of Sesame Li, he broke out and roamed the Huai and Si Rivers, eventually seeking refuge in Shandong after Yuan forces besieged him for killing the Prince of Zhenan. Mao Gui, his former master, had no reason to refuse him, leading to today’s power struggle.

Deng She’s mind raced with the possible consequences. His destination was Goryeo, across the sea from Shandong; the situation there would inevitably affect Goryeo. Lost in thought, he barely noticed Madam Wang until she softly called his name.

Just then, a guard brought warm water. Deng She placed it before her, found a stool to set the basin on, sparing her the need to bend.

Even if only for appearances, the tens of thousands under Wang Shicheng and Xu Jizu, all outsiders in Liaodong, could be useful allies. A little extra courtesy to Madam Wang might pay off.

Madam Wang had always accepted Deng She’s attentions as her due, given her noble status. But after barely escaping death, days without food or rest, she now felt more like a frightened bird, desperate for shelter. The warmth and care, so different from before, moved her for the first time.

She glanced in the water, saw her haggard reflection, and tears welled in her eyes as she hurried to wash her face.

Once presentable, she smoothed her hair. Deng She asked, "This upheaval in Shandong is grave. But how did you come to such a state?"

"With Mao dead and my husband at odds with Prince Yongyi, I had no choice but to return. On reaching Yongping, I found you had left two days earlier. I hurried to catch up, but... but..." Her voice trembled; she could not go on.

"What happened?"

"Near the Ruizhou Commandery, we were set upon by a northern band of outlaws. They overwhelmed my escort, and I was taken captive. The bandits had not eaten in days; that very night, they cooked and ate ten of my guards."

As she spoke, she seemed to relive the horror. She saw her guards tied to trees, watched as they were cut open, their bones stripped, their screams unending. Heads rolled about her feet, blood flowed like a brook past her, and entrails hung from the branches. A cauldron bubbled, human flesh afloat. Grinning demons with bones in their hands fought for scraps.

In the warmth of the tent, she shivered, curling up like a frightened lamb. Her cloak slipped, revealing her thin, shaking shoulders.

Her family had been wealthy; she had never known hardship. Even as a refugee, first under Commander Zheng, then under Deng She, she had been cared for in every detail. When had she ever suffered such terror?

Page 2 of 3

Page 3 of 3

No matter how much he disliked her, hearing such horrors, Deng She could not help but sigh. He had seen cannibalism often enough over the years; it no longer shocked him.

After a long pause, Madam Wang continued, "After landing, I changed into men’s clothes and smeared mud on my face. The bandits did not realize I was a woman, thinking us too scrawny to bother with. They planned to eat us after finishing the guards." If the outlaws had not been so ravenous, they might have discovered her disguise sooner.

Still shaken, she wept. "Fortunately, there was a strong wind for several nights, and one night a fire broke out. One guard used a burning stick to sever his bonds and, in the chaos, rescued me."

"And the guard?"

"Waiting outside the tent."

Deng She rose and ordered, "Prepare a tent, dress his wounds, and provide food and drink. Later, I will thank him personally."

A servant brought food. Deng She arranged it and sighed again. "Madam, eat while it’s hot."

Hearing his kind words, smelling the food, and seeing Deng She’s gentle face, Madam Wang finally succumbed to her terror, bursting into sobs. If she had not remembered her dignity, she might have thrown herself into his arms. Having wandered the brink of hell, her bound feet staggering for hundreds of miles, she now longed for a man’s protection more than ever.

Was she not born to be cherished by a man? Tears streaming, she forgot even to refer to herself as "your humble wife," as she always did except with Wang Shicheng, and pleaded, "I want to see my husband."

——

1. Tallies

"Ten-thousand commanders bear a golden tiger tally, shaped as a crouching tiger, its head a bright pearl, with distinctions of three, two, or one pearls; thousand-man commanders bear a gold tally; hundred-man commanders, a silver one."

2. Cannibalism

In 1342, famine in Datong led to cannibalism.

In Xiangde, Jining, Pingjin, Xujia of Yuci, Xiaoyi of Fenzhou, and Xinzhou, drought persisted from spring to autumn, and people resorted to eating others.

In 1343, great famine in Weihui, Jining, Xinzhou, and Henan led to cannibalism.

In 1344, flooding in Bazhou led to cannibalism. In Yanzhou, Yanling, Tongxu, Chenliu, Linying, and other counties, floods ruined crops, and people ate each other. Prolonged rains in Shandong brought famine and cannibalism.

In 1345, great famine in Dongping and Xuzhou led to cannibalism.

In 1346, famine in Xiangde led to cannibalism.

In 1348, great famine in Weihui caused over half the population to perish from cannibalism.

In 1349, famine in Jiaozhou led to cannibalism.

In 1352, drought in Qi and Huang counties led to cannibalism.

In 1354, spring and summer famine in Anqing resulted in cannibalism. That year, famine and plague struck the capital; parents and children ate each other.

In Quanzhou and Taizhou, famine led to cannibalism.

In 1358, families in Juzhou ate their own members.

In Guangping, cannibalism occurred.

In the capital, famine led to cannibalism. Xiangde suffered likewise.

In the nineteenth year of Zhizheng (1359), Liu Wu of Tongzhou killed his son and ate him.

In Baoding, corpses filled the roads, soldiers hunted the weak for food.

In Shandong, Henan, and other counties, famine led to cannibalism.

In the capital, Hebei, Shanxi, Henan, and Shandong, the starving caught locusts for food, drying and storing them. When those ran out, people ate each other.

These are only the cases recorded in official histories. That three instances of parents and children eating each other made it into the records—where ink was sparingly used—shows that only large-scale, shocking events were noted; smaller instances were commonplace.

During severe disasters, a bushel of rice could sell for more than a pound of gold. In Dadu, the imperial capital, a fifty-tael silver ingot bought only eight bushels; ten banknotes (a thousand strings of cash) could not buy even one bushel. Prices had risen a thousandfold since the early Yuan.

Page 3 of 3