Mount Mao couldn’t compare to Mount Baohua, let alone be mentioned in the same breath as the magnificent mountains of Jing and Shu lands—Wuling Mountain, Xuefeng Mountain, Wu Mountain, Daba Mountain. But standing on the Jianghuai Plain, it could still be said to have overlapping peaks and ridges, precipitous mountain cliffs, winding forest caves, and crisscrossing streams and valleys.
As the ancestral mountain of the Shangqing Sect of Daoism, Mount Mao was renowned as the First Blessed Land and the Eighth Cave Heaven. From the Han and Jin dynasties through the previous dynasty, the Daoist sites on Mount Mao gradually developed to their peak.
Even though the previous Prefect of Shengzhou and Emperor Tianyou had suppressed the development of Buddhism and Daoism, and despite nearly a century of continuous warfare, Mount Mao still preserved nearly two hundred Daoist structures including palaces, temples, halls and pavilions.
The Zixu Temple located on Leiping Peak alone possessed six Daoist courtyards. However, after decades without repair, they had fallen into disrepair. A stone path carved through the mountain connected like a rope between the temple halfway up the mountain and the valley at its foot.
A small village sat in the valley—a dozen or so households living together in a fortified settlement. In the mountain temple above, over a dozen elderly Daoists resided, practicing their cultivation.
From afternoon onward, large groups of women and children continuously entered the valley at the foot of Leiping Peak from outside the mountain, camping beside the dozen-some civilian dwellings in the valley.
Tonight the sky was clear, the stars and moon bright. By midnight, nearly two to three thousand people had crowded into the valley at the base of Leiping Peak, which occupied less than two hundred mu of land.
Daoist incense offerings weren’t flourishing. In Zixu Temple, only a dozen elderly Daoists guarded the spacious courtyards that had remained unrepaired and dilapidated for many years. Watching this scene, they were filled with fearful unease.
Even though those entering the mountain hadn’t yet had anyone climb Leiping Peak to reach Zixu Temple, how could the Daoists in the temple feel at ease?
In these chaotic times of war and disorder, whether people were refugees or bandits was always just a matter of a single thought.
The Daoists didn’t know whether to close the temple gates tight, open the main doors, or send someone to the valley to investigate.
But what use would opening the doors or sending someone to investigate be?
The temple had only a dozen elderly Daoists. Usually incense offerings weren’t abundant. Besides offerings from villagers below the mountain, they mainly sustained themselves by tending a dozen mu of vegetable gardens behind the temple. Even if they brought out all their grain, it might not be enough to fill the bellies of these two to three thousand people who had crowded into the valley today.
At this moment, three agile figures climbed up the steep cliff on the western side using hooks, ropes and other equipment, quickly ascending Leiping Peak. Their movements were nimble, like monkeys.
Behind the temple stood an old, dilapidated pavilion. The young man in the lead walked straight toward it. Seeing that the temple master of Zixu Temple, Daoist Yunpu, could still leisurely enjoy a game of chess with his father at this time, completely unafraid that so many refugees pouring in might tear down Zixu Temple at any moment, he thought his father’s assessment that Yunpu was a rare true Confucian-Daoist of this age was indeed accurate. However, the other Daoists in the temple had long since mentally collapsed.
Seated before Zixu Temple’s master, Yunpu, was a withered, thin elderly man. His gaunt old face showed the ashen pallor of serious illness, but his eyes were clear, without the cloudiness of old age.
Seeing the young man approach, the old man set down the chess piece in his hand, suppressed his cough, and asked, “Has the news been confirmed?”
“It’s confirmed that Han Qian has come. Three days ago he seized military authority from Second Uncle’s hands, imprisoning Second Uncle, Chen Mingsheng and their escorts at Yanling Wharf while blocking the news from the outside. Han Qian truly has tremendous influence among the Dragon Sparrow Army garrison households. I saw that even among the household troops raised by Second Uncle’s household, many defected to follow him. Second Uncle and Chen Mingsheng had absolutely no room to struggle.”
The young man was about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. He didn’t look particularly robust, but the bulging muscles beneath his short-hemmed robe and shirt revealed tremendous strength—he was a brave general who had trained his body from childhood to great achievement. Just now, climbing the hundred-zhang cliff with ropes hadn’t tired him at all. He walked before the old man and reported in detail what he had observed while scouting outside the mountain today, saying:
“Last night, Han Qian took advantage of darkness to lead his troops out of Yanling Wharf, infiltrating near Danyang city to lie in ambush. At dawn, he sent a contingent disguised as foraging troops to trick open the city gate. Then three to four thousand men attacked into the city in one breath, taking barely half an hour to gain control of Danyang city. Han Qian’s movements were extremely fast. The defending general had no defenses against Yanling, and probably didn’t even figure out where these troops came from before being beaten senseless, fleeing Danyang in a confused panic. Only at noon did they think to send scouts to investigate Yanling Wharf. However, yesterday twenty thousand elite troops from Shouzhou just crossed the river, and Prince Xin’s side showed no movement even after dark. Your son guesses that Han Qian had the idea of using the Shouzhou army elite’s river crossing to muddy the waters. But what your son cannot comprehend is that after capturing Danyang city, Han Qian didn’t defend it, ultimately bringing forty to fifty thousand women and children to escape to Mount Mao. Even though plundering Danyang city yielded over a hundred cartloads of grain, it’s still not worth the cost—it can only help these women and children hold out ten-some more days. Why did Han Qian need to provoke Prince Xin? Even if we say it’s for revenge, isn’t Anning Palace’s enmity with him even deeper? Doesn’t this action actually help Anning Palace more?”
“Can Master Yunpu guess Han Qian’s intention?” the old man asked Zixu Temple’s master, Yunpu.
“These years I’ve been reading scriptures and reciting Buddhist sutras in the mountains. How would I understand military and national affairs? Your Highness shouldn’t trouble this old Daoist with such questions.” The temple master said.
“Reading scriptures and reciting Buddhist sutras—you old Daoist, you cultivate heretical ways!” The old man coughed while pointing at the temple master with a laugh, “If you truly didn’t concern yourself with worldly affairs, why would Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong, when sent as envoy to Jinling, first come to Zixu Temple to offer incense?”
“The Divine Mausoleum Bureau long ago vanished with the smoke of the previous dynasty. The remaining remnants harbor only thoughts of seizing power and influence. How are they different from the regionally dominant military strongmen? I’ve been foolish all my life. If I didn’t have some self-awareness, wouldn’t I be even more pathetic than your second brother?” The temple master refused to admit any connection to worldly affairs, saying, “Wang Yong after all has princely status and is the son of an old friend. If he wants to climb Leiping Peak, can I stop him? Speaking of which, why aren’t you recuperating in Hongzhou? What are you doing at my Zixu Temple? If you came out of retirement to help Yang Yuanpu take Hongzhou, you’d earn at minimum a Grand Preceptor or Grand Tutor position!”
The old man coughed violently for a while, taking a long time to catch his breath. He didn’t debate with the crafty old temple master, saying dejectedly, “Wang Jixiong ran out of oil and lamp light upon reaching Xuzhou. How many more years can this body of mine endure? Yang Zhitang doesn’t guard against me because he sees I’m about to enter the grave. What talk of coming out of retirement?”
“I think Yang Zhitang is even worse than your second brother. Even if he has ambitions, at this moment he still doesn’t dare reveal them, still choosing to sit on the fence and observe. If you truly came out of retirement, how many guts would he have to stop you?” The temple master said.
The young man, seeing that Yunpu understood Hongzhou’s situation thoroughly, naturally knew he hadn’t truly stayed honestly in this Mount Mao temple reading scriptures and cultivating as he claimed. However, at this moment he also couldn’t guess why his father had come to Jinling or what Han Qian intended to do.
The young man ignored the temple master, directly asking the old man, “Father, what do you think Han Qian’s purpose is?”
“‘In the Proclamation Hall seeking worthy men, questioning exiled officials, Jia Yi’s talent and judgment were without peer. How pitiful that at midnight, though leaning forward eagerly, he asked not about the common people but about ghosts and spirits,'” the old man didn’t directly answer the young man’s question. Instead, with hands in his sleeves, looking at the leisurely white clouds above the mountain ravine, he recited a poem by the great poet Li Shangyin of the previous dynasty, saying, “In the seventeen years since Great Chu was founded, generals have been as numerous as fish crossing the river. But speaking of those who would sacrifice their lives for the common people, only Han Daoxun alone—Wang Jixiong can only count as half.”
“When you straightforwardly handed over military authority back then, why didn’t you count yourself as half? Without the foundation you left behind, Yang Yuanyan wouldn’t have been so impressive in the previous battle!” The temple master said.
“That was how many years ago? Besides, at that time I was just afraid of death, wanting a few more years of peaceful days. I couldn’t compare to Wang Jixiong, much less Han Daoxun,” the old man said. “I just never expected the torrential tide still wouldn’t stop!”
“You’re saying that this boy from Han Daoxun’s family has come for the common people? How is it I don’t see that?” The temple master returned to the main topic and asked.
“If not that, I can’t understand why he would come to wade through these murky waters at this time.” The old man said.
“Your son is also dull,” the young man also couldn’t understand why his father made such a judgment. He interjected, “The world says Han Qian is deeply scheming, sinister and ruthless. Father also once assessed the Battle of Xichuan, saying Han Qian deceived the young Prince Tan to achieve extraordinary merit, disappointing the Late Emperor’s favor. And before Shen He died from poison, he went to Tanzhou to deliver an imperial edict. If Han Qian didn’t detect it, he could hardly deserve his reputation among ‘the three to five.’ If he did detect it, then Great Chu’s fragmentation and Jinling falling into today’s crisis—he bears inescapable blame.”
“Correct. I used to think that although Han Qian had great talent, he was somewhat sinister. However, people change and grow,” the old man sighed deeply, saying, “Therefore, I dragged my sick body to Jinling precisely to see—facing the current chaos, would Han Qian come to Jinling, or would he first join forces with Zhigao to attack and take Yongzhou…”
The temple master interjected, “What’s the difference? In this poor Daoist’s humble opinion, Yueyang should first attack Yongzhou to secure their foundation. Zheng Yu and Zheng Chang advocate stationing troops in Huang and E prefectures merely to use the situation to consolidate the Zheng family’s power in Jingxiang. Chai Jian and Li Chong follow along because they want to divide Li Zhigao’s influence—your Li family internally isn’t peaceful either. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in such a predicament this time.”
The old man didn’t want to speak much about Xinchang Marquis household’s internal affairs. He said, “The Zheng family, Chai Jian, Zhou Yuan and the others each harbor selfish motives. Taking Yongzhou first may benefit Yueyang, but delaying for a year or more, Jinling’s situation will collapse. The Jianghuai will fragment and disintegrate—scorched earth for a thousand li, blood flowing enough to float pestles. After the Jianghuai is thoroughly broken, Great Chu’s foundation will shake, making it difficult to resist northern armies invading south…”
“How can you say such a thing?” If anyone else said this, the temple master would only consider it alarmist talk. But knowing what kind of person the old man before him was, he couldn’t help asking in alarm.
The young man was also confused and puzzled.
The old man said, “Not counting subordinate counties, Jinling city alone has six to seven hundred thousand people. In past years, grain was transferred from Yangzhou and Taizhou in the east, as well as prefectures of the Eastern Jiangnan Circuit like Su, Run, Hu, Xiu, Yue and Hang to meet consumption needs. After the Jinling incident, Yang and Tai were completely controlled by Chuzhou’s army, which continuously conscripted troops and requisitioned grain from them. As for grain supplies from the Eastern Jiangnan Circuit—forget about merchant trade being cut off—tribute grain that should have been transported into Jinling by the end of last year was either intercepted by Chuzhou as military provisions or hoarded in various prefectures’ great granaries, becoming chips for these people to waver and observe. In fact, up to today, for almost half a year, not a single grain of rice from the Eastern Jiangnan Circuit prefectures has entered Jinling.” The old man said, “You just returned from Jinling city the other day—you also know what grain prices in Jinling city have risen to?”
“Fifteen strings of cash per shi, tripled from the lowest point these past two years. But compared to back when one shi of grain cost a hundred strings—an astronomical price—there’s still a great distance. Moreover, Anning Palace is now working on ways to transfer grain from western prefectures and counties as well as north of the Yangzi to stabilize grain prices.” The young man said dismissively.
“West of Jinling, Jingxiang and Hunan are no longer under control. The next step may even see them strictly control grain exports eastward. The Poyang Lake area has suffered major floods year after year. The surrounding prefectures have many mountains and little arable land. Even if Hong, Yuan, Jiang, Chi and Gan prefectures don’t have observational intentions, they don’t have surplus grain in hand. They may even follow Yueyang’s continuous troop increases in E and Huang prefectures by recruiting soldiers and buying horses, intensifying grain consumption. North of the Yangzi has always been a war-torn region, troubled for over a decade without respite. Even if Anning Palace controls Shou, Chao and Chu prefectures, the grain they can requisition can only barely ensure grain supplies for their hundred-some thousand troops, but can hardly take care of the numerous civilians,” the old man said. “This situation doesn’t look particularly dire, but we must consider Chuzhou’s current and future intentions!”
“Chuzhou’s intention is to gradually tighten Jinling’s grain supply, ultimately making them collapse without battle due to lack of grain?” The young man asked in shock.
“After the Battle of Jingshan Hermitage, the Chuzhou army couldn’t wait to seize Danyang from your second uncle’s hands, then drove your second uncle and his fifty thousand people to the Xipu River line to find their own provisions. This showed they somewhat had this intention. Their move, besides using the elderly, weak, women and children in your second uncle’s hands to consume stored grain around Liyang and Jiangcheng, also blocked the commercial route from east of Liyang through Huzhou. However, at that time I wasn’t particularly worried. After all, Chuzhou should have prepared two strategies, perhaps leaning more toward quick decisive battle. However, great chaos in Liang means Chuzhou faces no pressure from the north for a year. And with Yueyang transferring Li Zhigao to defend Ezhou, the Zheng family will also focus on managing Huangzhou, creating a fisherman watching for profit. I fear this will make the Chuzhou army even more reluctant to decide on a swift attack on Jinling…” The old man said.
“The Chuzhou army fears that attacking Jinling by force would cause too many casualties, or that mutual destruction with Anning Palace would ultimately only let Yueyang be the fisherman who profits?” The young man asked.
The old man nodded, saying, “Once Chuzhou loses the intention for quick decisive battle, their available strategic choices become extremely limited!”
“As more and more Shouzhou troops land on the western foothills of Mount Baohua, civilians in places like Jiangcheng, to avoid disaster, are all fleeing into Jinling city. And when refugees want to flee east into Runzhou, Suzhou and Huzhou, they encounter interception and plundering by Chuzhou forces. Are they already systematically driving people into Jinling city?” The young man suddenly detected some obvious clues in the intelligence he had gathered, asking, “Father, are you saying Han Qian has already detected Chuzhou’s plan? Attacking Danyang but not defending it is to sabotage their plan? Withdrawing to Mount Mao is also to ensure Jinling’s southeastern corner retains a gap not controlled by Chuzhou’s army?”
“It should be so,” the old man said. “Whether both sides have such intentions, just watch whether Chuzhou’s army attacks Mount Mao and whether Han Qian defends Mount Mao, and it will be verified!”
“Considering that Mount Mao stretches only twenty li north to south, if Chuzhou won’t allow Han Qian to hold Mount Mao and open a gap for Jinling, with Han Qian having barely three thousand remnant troops and nearly fifty thousand women and children—even finding provisions is a problem—how can he defend Mount Mao?” The young man asked in confusion.
“Seeing him form a women’s battalion, perhaps he plans to have women and children defend Mount Mao while elite troops operate outside the mountains?” The old man said.
“With this kind of fighting method, how long can he hold out?” The young man asked, still puzzled or with a trace of disdain.
“Knowing it cannot be done yet doing it anyway—that is great courage.” The old man sighed.
The young man turned his face toward the mountain ravine, clearly disdainful of the old man’s words, or rather disdainful of Han Qian’s action of knowing it couldn’t be done yet doing it anyway. He thought privately: isn’t this the courage of a common man?
Temple master Yunpu observed the young man’s reaction, slapped a chess piece onto the board, and said to the old man:
“Regardless of anything else, Han Qian infiltrating Jinling to seize military authority on his own probably isn’t the worthy and virtuous minister you hoped for.”
“What defines a worthy minister?” The old man asked.
Temple master Yunpu smiled slightly, not answering the old man’s question.
Seeing the young man seemed quite sympathetic to Yunpu’s words, the old man sighed in his heart, thinking that if Xiu’er didn’t have such thoughts in his heart, the so-called mind techniques of the Divine Mausoleum Bureau couldn’t take effect. But having weathered countless storms in this lifetime, he knew that human hearts were the hardest to shake and change.
At this time, he was too lazy to engage in scheming with Yunpu, who was also quite elderly, and turned his attention to the endgame on the chessboard.
The young man said to the old man, “I saw Second Uncle enter Mount Mao together with Han Qian and his group. Should I go see Second Uncle?”
“You’ve all grown your wings hard. If I forcibly kept you all by my side, you’d mostly harbor resentment in your hearts. Besides, with my terminal illness, I couldn’t stop you for more than two or three years even if I wanted to,” the old man held a chess piece, sighing lightly, “You must remember several things. Yuzhang Prince Yang Zhitang is more shrewd than you imagine. Otherwise, among so many collateral descendants of the Yang clan, how could he alone be enfeoffed as a prince to guard Hongzhou? Your second uncle can’t achieve great things. Whether you go see your second uncle or Han Qian now is fine, but don’t say I’m in the mountains. If possible, you should still try to help Han Qian defend Mount Mao. Don’t oppose him.”
“You said defending Mount Mao is the courage of a common man. Helping Han Qian defend Mount Mao—isn’t that courting death?” The young man muttered in his heart, but verbally agreed readily.
***
***
Yinyun Hermitage on Great Mao Peak was one of many Daoist hermitages deep in Mount Mao. A dozen old hermitage buildings were hidden among the deep mountains and dense forests. Several elderly Daoist nuns maintained them, living an impoverished ascetic life. Yet there was no Buddha or Dao to save the world’s people.
By midnight, nearly two thousand elderly, weak, women and children had also gradually stationed in the valley where Yinyun Hermitage was located.
Seeing a women’s battalion maintaining order, the several Daoist nuns in the hermitage felt relatively stable emotionally. They especially lent out the rear kitchen courtyard for these people to light fires and cook.
“Miss, what’s wrong with you? Why haven’t you packed your things? If we don’t leave soon and those people outside detect Miss’s identity, that would truly be terrible!” In the western courtyard hall of Yinyun Hermitage, two maidservants with short swords at their waists went out to gather intelligence. Returning with agile movements, they saw their miss still sitting leisurely by the window reading—they were so anxious they immediately came forward to pack luggage, preparing to leave Yinyun Hermitage under cover of night.
“We are law-abiding cultivators. Why would they make things difficult for us?” The young lady set down her book, sitting with her knees drawn up by the window, looking at the fresh green mountain forest outside. A stream gurgled past before the window. Her peaceful mountain mood wasn’t troubled at all by the clamor and commotion outside the hermitage.
“Miss, you said yourself that refugees and bandits are separated by only a single thought. If they become bandits, they won’t reason with Miss. Besides, Miss is so beautiful—if I were a mountain bandit king, I’d be tempted to capture Miss back to be the bandit queen,” the older maidservant muttered. “Besides, Miss has already seen what she wanted to see. We were wrong before about Young Master Han’s sentiments, all right? However, after Yueyang and Chuzhou have fought into one mess, that person from the Han family captured Danyang but didn’t defend it. Who knows how angry His Highness and the Old Master will be. Miss wouldn’t still be thinking about marrying into Xuzhou, would she? Miss, aren’t you afraid that when that person from the Han family meets the Old Master, they could tear each other apart?”
“If you keep talking nonsense, I really will pinch your mouth.” The young lady said shyly.
“Fine, fine—we’ll pinch our own big mouths, okay? Miss, quickly check if there’s anything left unpacked. If not, let’s set out quickly. Right now it’s still chaotic outside—we can still find gaps to get out. Wait until tomorrow and we truly might not be able to leave.” The senior maidservant said.
“But I still haven’t figured out how he’ll defend Mount Mao…” The young lady rested her snow-white fragrant cheek on her hand, looking at the stream outside the window, saying puzzledly.
“But Miss, you can’t offer yourself as a bargaining chip!” The senior maidservant said urgently. “You’re really not afraid of angering the Old Master to death!”
At this moment, a black-clothed person hurriedly entered the courtyard, kneeling on one knee before the corridor, saying, “A squad of soldiers is heading straight for Yinyun Hermitage. They seem to have detected this is one of our contact points. Miss, quickly hide in the rear mountains. We can still delay them for a while.”
The black-clothed person’s words had just fallen when muffled breaking sounds came from the bamboo forest behind the mountain—mechanisms they had set up deep in the bamboo forest had been triggered. Roosting birds in the bamboo forest were startled into flight. Soon the people in the bamboo forest no longer concealed their tracks. Footsteps grew loud as they surrounded the hermitage…