With the commanding general gone, the morale of the army collapsed in an instant.
How could such a battle of attack and defense be sustained any further?
Jia Yong Prefecture — reputed as a wall of bronze and iron, capable of holding firm for two full months given sufficient provisions — had its banner changed and its allegiance transferred entirely in less than two days!
When Qiu Zhen was escorted into Jia Yong Prefecture and stood atop the city wall, watching the Great Wei soldiers flee in disarray, even he had not anticipated that seizing a strategic stronghold of this magnitude would go so smoothly.
The military talents of Great Wei were this deplorable — it was Heaven’s own decree, and the fate of this dynasty had at last reached its end!
Standing at the top of the wall and gazing toward the distant mountains, he looked past Jia Yong Prefecture — one more mountain range and there would be Jing Prefecture, then Liang Prefecture and several others — and further beyond, there were no more treacherous mountains to obstruct the way. It would be open, flat terrain all the way to the capital.
At that very moment, the troops below had already reassembled. The rebel soldiers, their bodies still soaked in fresh blood, bore on their faces the exhilaration of men who had fought their way through slaughter. One after another they raised their weapons, thrusting their arms skyward and roaring in unison: “Commander Qiu’s valor surpasses all the world! He wipes away the shame of Emperor Shengde! His achievements cover the heavens!”
For a moment the thunder of their cries seemed to make the very earth tremble faintly.
This battle cry had been disseminated on Qiu Zhen’s silent instruction. His title of deputy commander had shed the character for “deputy” of its own accord, and the phrase “wipes away the shame of Emperor Shengde” made pointed reference to the story of Emperor Xianzong’s personal campaign — that calamitous defeat — in days gone by.
The humiliation of Emperor Xianzong’s defeat was to be washed away by Qiu Zhen, whose achievements covered the heavens!
In an instant the rebel army’s momentum swelled enormously, and after a period of consolidation, they were visibly preparing to press south.
Jia Yong Prefecture had fallen so swiftly that the garrison forces of the neighboring prefectures and counties had no time whatsoever to respond. The main forces of the Qian Bei Camp had begun to muster, but halfway along their march they ran headlong into the routed soldiers from Jia Yong Prefecture retreating in disorder.
When Zhao Guibei, riding on horseback, received word that Jia Yong Prefecture had fallen, he howled with furious disbelief and spat forcefully in the faces of the fleeing officers.
Those officers were not without resentment of their own, squinting at him sideways: “Easy for you to stand there without a care and pass judgment — if you had been there, you might well have done worse than us!”
Zhao Guibei said viciously: “If it had been me, I would rather have been hanged from the city wall than retreat a single step — becoming a coward who runs to save his own skin!”
But there was no use in cursing these men now. Zhao Guibei immediately wheeled his horse around and galloped back to get word to his father.
As a soldier well versed in the conduct of war, he naturally understood the strategic importance of Jia Yong Prefecture.
The next line of defense was Jing Prefecture, which relied on natural barriers — the last line of resistance. If Qiu Zhen proved this ferocious, whether Jing Prefecture could even hold became an unpredictable variable.
These rebel forces, which the court had long watched with one eye open and one eye closed, had at some unknown point grown into a monster. If they were not contained in time, the consequences would be beyond imagining!
On the matter of Wang Yun, who had fled leaving his armor and helmet behind — he had been so negligent in his battle preparations that his forces had crumbled this quickly.
Moreover, he had fled with such haste that he had made absolutely no arrangements for an orderly withdrawal, with the result that more than half his soldiers were captured and left behind in Jia Yong Prefecture.
These soldiers, fighting to survive, joined the rebel army one after another, swelling its strength, while the provisions Wang Yun had left behind in Jia Yong Prefecture naturally fell into the rebels’ hands as well.
A military stronghold that had been defended with such vigilance — to have it looted and occupied this easily, with his own casualties devastating — Wang Yun had lost both his face and his substance entirely.
Even Wang Yun had skilled scribes in his employ who were adept with the brush, yet there was no way to set pen to paper and write a memorial to present to the Emperor.
Yet not writing was also impossible. Judging by the rebel army’s posture, they intended to continue driving south.
His strength severely depleted, Wang Yun now had no choice but to appeal to the court for reinforcements and a fresh dispatch of provisions and personnel.
At the same time, he wrote separate letters to the Sixth Prince and to the Empress in the palace, asking them to prepare as early as possible and guard against the faction of Noble Consort Qiong and the Ninth Prince seizing this opportunity to press their advantage.
Word of this naturally reached the court before long.
Memorials recounting how General Wang Yun had sent his family away early and met the rebel army with half-hearted resistance piled up across the Emperor’s table.
The faction of Noble Consort Qiong had long awaited such an opportunity.
The consort’s elder brother had been executed at the front lines on Wang Yun’s orders, charged with dereliction of duty — a blood feud of this depth was not something anyone could forget.
Now Wang Yun had abandoned great numbers of soldiers and fled with his wife at the earliest opportunity — in what way was he superior to her brother?
The Ninth Prince and his strategists also held fast to the single point that Wang Yun had sent his family away in advance, arguing strenuously that Wang Yun was a wretch who had ruined the state, unworthy of the position of Commander-in-Chief.
He had lost Jia Yong Prefecture, which was tantamount to throwing open the gates — the surrounding prefectures now hung by a thread. If capable hands were not dispatched at once, the vast territories of Great Wei would be forfeited into the hands of the Wang family of Changxi!
When Emperor Hui of Wei received news of Jia Yong Prefecture’s fall, his fury erupted. In a single day he issued six successive imperial decrees sharply censuring Wang Yun.
The courier horses of the Ministry of War were nearly galloping themselves into smoke.
Had it not been for the patriarch of the Changxi Wang family coming personally to beg the Emperor’s pardon, and the Empress also pleading on Wang Yun’s behalf, His Majesty would not have settled for so light a punishment as merely stripping him of his generalship.
Wang Yun, after all, was not the same as Noble Consort Qiong’s common-born brother — backed by the Wang family, with his accumulated military merit to his credit, he managed in the end to keep his life.
His Majesty had long wanted to strip the Wang family of their military authority, and this occasion presented an excellent opportunity. But the Wang family pushed their advantage, shamelessly refusing to relinquish control of the military, and sought to nominate another Wang family member as successor.
So Noble Consort Qiong stormed into the outer court, pointed at the Wang family members’ noses, and let loose a torrent of abuse, demanding: for the same offense, why did Wang Yun not have to die?
His Majesty watched the spectacle with idle composure, with no intention of intervening — he simply let Noble Consort Qiong make a tremendous scene to destroy the Wang family’s standing.
And so after several rounds of fierce verbal jousting in the court, Wang Yun’s position of Commander-in-Chief stood empty, and the Ninth Prince’s people held firm, absolutely refusing to allow any other member of the Wang family to take it.
Great Wei had always been a dynasty where civil affairs flourished and military affairs languished — men of genuine usefulness were few. In the end there appeared to be only one candidate.
And so Prince Consort Zhao Dong — the man who had once competed with Wang Yun for the position of Commander-in-Chief — this time stepped into the role as a matter of course.
Zhao Dong accepted the imperial commission and set out for the front lines without delay to shoulder the great task of resisting the rebel army.
Zhao Guibei had learned this news early from his own superior officer, and rode all the way to the Qianxi Camp to deliver the good news to Han Linfeng.
After recounting the imperial decree, he said with considerable excitement: “In the past, because of my mother’s repeated objections, my father was unable to come. Who could have expected that this time my mother would actually let him go — that she would allow my father to come to the front lines.”
Han Linfeng, upon hearing this, did not share Zhao Guibei’s excitement. These past several nights he had frequently lain awake, gazing at the mountains and rivers in the distance with no inclination to sleep.
After the fall of Jia Yong Prefecture, Qiu Zhen’s appetite had only grown — he had pressed on without pause and broken through the fortified stronghold of Jing Prefecture where Wang Yun had retreated to make his stand.
If the rebel army were allowed to continue sweeping all before them like this, it was only a matter of time before they punched through to the capital.
No matter how much Princess Yuyang cherished her husband, His Majesty could no longer afford to consider his daughter’s feelings — he had no choice but to dispatch Zhao Dong as swiftly as possible to serve as the force to put out the fire.
Zhao Guibei’s visit this time was to persuade Han Linfeng to present himself before his father and volunteer his own services — to place himself under his father’s command.
In his view, Han Linfeng was far more capable and valiant than many of his father’s veteran subordinates. To bury such talent in the grain transport camp would be a terrible waste.
He wanted to help his father recruit capable men, and had therefore trotted over with great eagerness to act as persuader.
He was still in the midst of his enthusiastic pitch when Su Luoyun arrived, carrying a food box with a meal. With her came his younger sister-in-law Han Yao, who had come to Fengwei Village for a visit.
Han Yao these past few days had been constantly subjected to her mother’s ear-tugging lectures. Though she was mild-natured by temperament, she had reached her limit. Using the pretext of bringing her sister-in-law some newly acquired cloth, she had appealed to her father to arrange a carriage to bring her to Fengwei Village for a few days, to relax and breathe a little.
Her mother’s scolding had by now given her thoughts of marrying and leaving as soon as possible — she would rather face a mother-in-law’s cold looks every day in the capital than endure her own mother’s heated tirades.
Luoyun was very sympathetic toward her sister-in-law, but the only thing she could do was keep her for a few extra days. If the consort was displeased, Han Yao could place the blame on her.
After all, when one was already covered in lice, a few more did not bother one — offending a mother-in-law once or twice more made little difference.
When Han Yao came in and found that the blundering Zhao Guibei was also there, she half-raised her fan to shield her face, exchanged polite greetings, then said: “Your nose is certainly keen — today my sister-in-law brought roasted venison. You have quite some luck!”
Since the young general was also present, he naturally had to be invited to stay for a meal. When all four of them sat down, they ate and drank wine together.
Zhao Guibei, calling to mind the recent news, said: “Actually, the rebel army’s morale is not entirely stable — there is no need to fear they will come charging through in a single relentless push.”
Han Yao asked with curiosity: “Why do you say so?”
Zhao Guibei took a large bite of venison wrapped in leafy greens, then said: “You haven’t heard it in the city? Cao Sheng has made a clean break with Qiu Zhen. He wrote out a personal proclamation condemning Qiu Zhen for abandoning his original purpose, knowing only how to cause internal strife, and harboring wolfish ambitions. He also detailed the hidden circumstances of his earlier imprisonment by Qiu Zhen. He has left his former forces and is seeking another righteous path to recover the homeland, and he hopes that the young men who joined the rebel army in his name will see clearly what is right and wrong, and no longer raise their swords against soldiers who are fellow subjects of Great Wei. He further hopes that the wealthy patrons who made charitable donations in his name will cease making secret contributions to Qiu Zhen on his account.”
This proclamation, written in Cao Sheng’s own hand, had been reproduced by woodblock printing in countless copies, distributed not only in the surrounding areas of the rebel army’s encampment but throughout the towns and cities as well.
Zhao Guibei did not know whether the letter had reached as far south as the southern regions. But at the very least, it had already spread through the several prefectures along the frontier.
So despite Qiu Zhen’s string of victories, these past few days the rebel army had seen no small number of desertions.
Cao Sheng’s name carried immense weight — it bore the homeland dreams of many border people. And his sudden disappearance from the rebel army’s camp, his whereabouts unknown, was a fact.
His handwriting was well known to many veteran commanders within the rebel army.
Upon reading Cao Sheng’s condemnation of Qiu Zhen for exploiting his illness to place him under house arrest, many of Cao Sheng’s old subordinates could not contain their outrage — they had come very close to leading their troops to arrest Qiu Zhen then and there.
But Qiu Zhen’s own standing within the rebel army was by now formidable as well, and he had a group of fervent loyalists behind him. So once this letter began to circulate, the rebel army from top to bottom underwent a purge of its own — officer assignments were reshuffled frequently.
In short, through bloody and drastic measures, Qiu Zhen had isolated at a great distance every person who posed any threat to his authority.
This upheaval in personnel was the fundamental reason the rebel army had temporarily halted its offensive.
Otherwise, riding the momentum of their capture of Jia Yong Prefecture in a single stroke, pushing all the way to Liangzhou in one breath would not have been out of the question.
Han Linfeng and Su Luoyun listened to Zhao Guibei’s account without any visible ripple of reaction.
Su Luoyun could hardly tell Young Master Zhao: that letter was written by my husband on Commander Cao’s behalf — when he read it aloud to me, I even helped refine a few phrases to make the wording more stirring.
So she could only sit and let the young general and her sister-in-law chat back and forth about Cao Sheng — the man and his letter.
Han Linfeng’s expression remained entirely natural, eating his meal as usual while adding soup and picking out dishes for Su Luoyun.
When the meal was finished, Han Linfeng, with nothing else pressing at hand, led his sister and the young master over to the stable to look at the newborn foal that had recently arrived.
Since the winter grain transport had concluded and almost no provisions remained in the transport camp, they had settled into a period of idleness until fresh supplies arrived. Even the horses that had hauled the grain had found time to produce a foal.
Han Yao saw it and excitedly asked her sister-in-law if she had ever ridden a horse.
Su Luoyun shook her head with a rueful smile. She had never once ridden a horse in her life — if her eyes had still been well, she might have tried. But now that her eyes had already failed, riding a horse would never again be possible for her…
Just as she was quietly lamenting this, her body was suddenly lifted into the air — Han Linfeng had scooped her up in his arms and placed her onto his own mount beside the stable.
“I had been meaning to take you riding all along, so I had someone saddle the horse just now. Let me take you for a first turn!”
As he spoke, Han Linfeng swung himself up onto the horse as well, settling Luoyun steadily in front of him.
Luoyun could not see, but as the horse moved beneath her, her two legs — feeling the stirrups — could sense the powerful grace of the animal’s body. When Han Linfeng urged the horse into a gentle trot around the practice ground, he leaned close to her ear and asked: “Are you frightened?”
Luoyun shook her head with a smile — though it was her first time on a horse, the chest of the man at her back was too broad and solid, a warmth radiating against her back. What was there to be frightened of?
Watching her elder brother hold her sister-in-law and ride across the wide practice ground, Han Yao looked on with an expression full of wistful envy, and could not help but murmur to herself: “Elder brother treats sister-in-law so well… he never taught me to ride, not once…”
Zhao Guibei happened to be standing right beside her. Hearing this, he scratched his head and said with genuine regret: “If you were a man, I could take you riding like that too.”
Han Yao felt this was a thoroughly improper thing to say, and was just about to fix him with a glare and scold him for speaking out of turn — when she caught sight of the young general’s expression beside her. It was one of very sincere and heartfelt regret.
It seemed he was genuinely lamenting that Han Yao’s being a woman had gotten in the way of the two of them riding together as sworn brothers…
As a result, the reprimand that had been rushing to her lips never emerged. Han Yao burst out laughing, and reaching into her small purse she drew out a piece of goat’s milk candy wrapped in glutinous rice paper, extending it to Zhao Guibei: “Last time I ate your sesame dumplings and never had a chance to repay you. Here — try this. I made it myself.”
Zhao Guibei accepted without the slightest hesitation, popped it into his mouth, and as the milky sweetness melted on his tongue, said with a smile: “This is better than what my mother makes!”
Han Yao lifted her chin with a pleased air: “If you like it, I’ll make you more — our manor just acquired three milk goats, so I can make a great many candy pieces!”
Zhao Guibei hesitated slightly: “This… isn’t it a bit improper?”
Han Yao said quite seriously: “I hear you have helped my elder brother greatly. To make you a few sweets as a token of thanks — what is wrong with that? Are you saying the gift is too meager? My monthly allowance is limited, and I cannot afford anything too costly.”
Zhao Guibei waved his hands hastily: “I am not asking for anything… Very well, since you sincerely want to make them, I will gladly accept them.”
Han Yao smiled happily: “Then in a few days I will come to visit my sister-in-law again, and bring them for you then — don’t forget to come and collect them. If you don’t come, you’ll be a man who breaks his word!”
Zhao Guibei nodded vigorously: “Fine, I won’t forget. If I don’t collect your thank-you gift, I’m no better than the mangy dog by the village gate!”
Han Yao heard him come out with words so utterly at odds with the dignity of a nobleman’s son, and could not help but smother a laugh behind her hand.
Those eyes curved with laughter — they drew Zhao Guibei’s gaze back to linger just a moment longer than it should.
The warm noontime sun spread across the horse ground of the northern region, its colors faded to yellow, blanketed with withered grass.
By now the wind was pressing earnestly toward the warmth of spring, and within all that ground of tawny brown, tiny scattered points of green were quietly stirring into being…
When they had ridden to their hearts’ content, Han Linfeng had Luoyun ride by herself on horseback and led her back by the reins.
But noticing that Zhao Guibei still showed no sign of leaving, he stopped and offered a pointed word of encouragement: “Young General — I hear the Qian Bei Camp is also preparing to set out and support the front lines. If you don’t return to make your preparations, spending all your time here with me doesn’t reflect well on you, does it?”
Zhao Guibei scratched his head: “Shizi — you still haven’t answered what I asked you! Are you going to serve under my father’s command or not? Wouldn’t going to the front lines as a vanguard general be better than staying cooped up here as a grain official?”
Han Linfeng said steadily: “I have just started a family and have no children yet. Let us spare ourselves the charging into battle for now!”
The young general heard this and was somewhat riled, unable to stop himself from arguing back: “Am I already a family man then? By your reasoning, half the soldiers in the army could go home and start having children!”
Han Linfeng let his gaze sweep once between Zhao Guibei and his sister — there was no telling how much candy the two of them had just shared, and this young fellow still had traces of glutinous rice paper at the corner of his mouth, yet was already in a hurry to lecture people?
He had no wish to waste more words on a young sprout, and simply smiled and clasped his hands: “It will be dark soon and the road won’t be good to travel. Please.”
The sun was still blazing — where was the darkness? Receiving so obvious an order to leave, Zhao Guibei had his pride, and naturally huffed off.
But watching him go in his disgruntled state, Han Yao looked on with a hint of sympathy: “Elder brother — who chases guests away like that? He’s not a bad person…”
Han Linfeng cast his sister a glance, his meaning clear: “I never said he was bad. But there’s no need to associate with him too closely. Given his situation, he never should have been sent to the Qian Bei Camp in the first place — yet here he is. Have you not wondered about the reason behind it?”
Zhao Guibei had not yet started a family — what son of a prominent minister was dispatched to the battlefield in such haste before producing an heir? Guo Yan and his like had all been sent only after marrying and having children. When you thought it through carefully, it seemed Han Linfeng and Zhao Guibei were the only ones deployed without offspring to their name.
Han Linfeng, of course, understood perfectly well why he himself had been sent.
But what of Zhao Guibei? Princess Yuyang had always treated him as her own son — she would never harm a child she had raised herself.
And though Zhao Dong was wholeheartedly in favor of going to war, there was no logic in sending his own son — who had not yet started a family — when Zhao Dong himself could come instead.
Think it through carefully, and there was something rather interesting buried within.
Han Yao was caught off guard by her brother’s question and paused in confusion. But what she found herself thinking was: given Young Master Zhao’s age, he really ought to have started a family by now — why had the princess not arranged a marriage for him?
Su Luoyun, for her part, understood perfectly clearly, and smiled gently as she filled in the explanation: “If he were the princess’s own son, the marriage would have been arranged long ago. But his birth mother was of humble origin and passed away early. The princess is nothing more than his stepmother. Everyone in the gated households of the capital knows that Princess Yuyang’s temperament is a touch overbearing. Though she treats the young general well, no one knows how she might treat a daughter-in-law in the future. So any family of some standing is unwilling to send their daughter into a household with such complicated relationships. As for those families that wish to attach themselves to power and influence — the princess herself looks down on them, so how could she broker a match for Young Master Zhao through such channels?”
Hearing this, Han Yao understood at once. She could not help but feel a few threads of sympathy for the as-yet-unwed Young Master Zhao.
It seemed he was, like herself, a person burdened by the hardships of one’s marital fate!
Su Luoyun sighed quietly to herself. Her husband was not a man who liked to spend effort on domestic and trifling matters — yet today he had deliberately said an extra word about Zhao Guibei’s situation in front of his sister.
Han Yao had not caught the meaning. She had.
After all, when two young people spent too much time together, feelings were apt to grow, however innocently.
Han Linfeng must have been worried that Han Yao might let her thoughts wander in the wrong direction, and had given his sister an early warning — the household of Princess Yuyang’s Prince Consort was an even more treacherous place than the Duke of Junjun’s manor.
The reasons were not entirely clear, but it was obvious enough that someone above was already making things difficult for Zhao Guibei.
If one were to develop feelings for a young man in such a situation, one would have to be truly lacking in sense!
Su Luoyun grasped Han Linfeng’s meaning immediately, and that was why she had taken care to lay things out clearly for Han Yao — so that her sister-in-law would not let her thoughts run ahead of her and misplace her affections.
Once she finished speaking, Han Yao indeed asked no further questions.
When it was time to head back, Han Linfeng personally accompanied Luoyun and his sister on the return to Fengwei Village.
But after asking his sister how many days she had stayed, Han Linfeng at once began nudging her toward leaving again: “It is best to go back early — otherwise your mother’s scolding will only grow deeper.”
Han Yao made a plaintive face at her brother: “Think of something for me! The capital side has been dragging its feet with no word — just leaving me hanging like this. If they want to break off the engagement, at least be quick about it! Once mother has given up entirely, she will stop wearing me down. At that point, even if father arranged for me to marry some minor official in an army camp, I would be willing — truly, these days are no way to live!”
Luoyun felt her sister-in-law had truly been ground down by the consort to the point of saying things in desperate jest. No matter how bad things got, a proper county princess could never be matched to a minor camp official — so she reached out warmly and patted Han Yao’s cheek: “Quickly spit twice to ward it off — don’t let it come true! And then see if you’ll be crying!”
Han Yao had spoken in a fit of temper, and hearing her sister-in-law say this, she leaned against her shoulder with a shy and bashful nuzzle.
But she understood — now that her elder brother was back, she was in the way. She naturally had to be sensible and leave sooner rather than later.
After Han Yao departed, Han Linfeng could at last enjoy a peaceful moment alone with his wife.
He lifted Luoyun onto the warm heatable bed, and the two of them cracked pine nuts and ate them while chatting idly.
According to Han Linfeng, Elder Brother Cao’s condition had shown no sign of improvement. Fortunately he had managed to procure a century-old wild ginseng, and for now Elder Brother Cao was being sustained by it — though there was no knowing how long it could hold.
But Cao Sheng, taking advantage of his more lucid moments, had already secretly written no fewer than ten proclamations in his own hand, all of them denouncing Qiu Zhen’s rebellion. Even if one day he should die of his illness, the death was to be kept strictly secret, with not a single word allowed to leak out.
When the time came, he would entrust Han Linfeng to distribute reproductions of his personally written letters at the critical moment.
Han Linfeng had told him: as long as Cao Sheng did not “die,” his remaining authority and prestige were sufficient to keep Qiu Zhen and his kind in check.
So long as people in the world continued to believe Cao Sheng was still alive, even if he closed his eyes and died, turned to ash by flames, he could still exert a deterrent force upon Qiu Zhen.
But Cao Sheng still had one matter he could not set his mind at ease over.
That was his daughter Cao Pei’er. The girl had fallen deeply under the spell of her feelings and still wept from time to time, pleading with her father to release her and let her go back to see her Qiu Lang.