What to do?
Everyone in the tent was thinking it through. The people assembled fell into two groups: one group was those like Zhù Qingjun who had been at Zhù Ying’s side for some time — all of them shaped by the formal training of the imperial court’s military tradition, and able to read the current situation with a single glance. The other group were those seated nearer the tent’s entrance, most of them of slave origin: sharp enough to have made it into the tent, but having never read works like the Six Strategies or Three Stratagems, they had their positions but struggled to immediately organize their thoughts into words.
Yet the two groups’ attitudes were remarkably alike. Zhù Qingjun leaned forward first: “Elder Matriarch, the situation presents difficulties at the moment. But if it’s possible to fight — better to press on in a single effort.”
Su Zhe also said: “Quite right. What life doesn’t have setbacks? We cannot only know how to fight when the wind is at our backs. Get through this, and the next time something difficult comes along, we won’t be afraid.”
Lu Danqing said: “In the past, whenever something arose, the Elder Matriarch carried it for us. This is a military matter — we must carry it together, top and bottom alike!”
Su Sheng quickly added his voice: “I have nothing more to say — count me in for whatever it is! Even if we need to rest first, I will come back.”
Jin Yu nodded along.
Having stated their positions, the tall man then said: “I came specifically to find the chief and take revenge. If you call it off, I can’t sit around waiting — I’d have to do it myself. Every extra day my enemy gets to live well is a day it weighs on me!”
The several newly attached commanders felt the same — press on — but were unable to articulate the reasoning well enough to convince Zhù Ying. Then, seeing everyone else speak up this way, they consulted among themselves in small voices with companions who could translate, and especially when they saw the tall man had spoken too, they all said together: “We’re not retreating either!” “If we don’t kill Posheng Chief, he’ll come for us again and we’ll suffer all over again!”
Zhù Ying said: “And yet — behind Posheng there are the Western Tribes, and the Western Tribes are not something we can easily contend with right now. Furthermore, there are now many newly attached territories — governance has not kept pace. Military resources and grain have also been heavily consumed. Conscription has taken people from the fields, and those fields are now short of hands. The soldiers are somewhat tired and need rest.”
Those below exchanged glances, all hesitating, none immediately speaking up. Zhù Ying also said nothing further, watching them quietly.
After a stretch of oppressive silence, Zhù Qingjun opened her mouth, produced a squeaking sound, cleared her throat, and said: “For now, it is not the moment to withdraw and return. Ninety li into a hundred-li march, the last ten are still half the battle. Beat a snake without killing it and it becomes a lifelong enemy. We have suffered losses, but so has the Posheng family — he has lost many mines and many followers, and I expect he is hoping you will stop so he can catch his breath.
We have already mobilized extensively — the people’s sacrifices have been made. The rewards have not yet fully materialized. The people of Zhù and Gan Counties who were allotted farmland have not yet seen their first harvest from it — and even when they do, they will still owe rent, so the benefit has still not come home. If we push through to a conclusion next year or the year after that, and can then settle into recovery and rest — the worst will have passed.
If we rest now, when do we start up again? What point do we recover to, and how long does it take? Next year? The year after? When we call people back up again and have to begin anew?
I believe: as long as we can sustain it now, push as far as we can. If we can kill off the Posheng family, then we never have to worry about them again. We just have to focus on dealing with the Western Tribes.”
She had spoken at considerable length. Those seated closer to the tent’s entrance were mostly lost by this point; the ones among them who could understand her were finding it quite convoluted to translate, and the full meaning was not coming through quickly.
Zhù Ying still said nothing. She was watching everyone’s reactions.
“Wuzhou has taken losses, but against the Western Tribes we may not have enough — against these loose forces, we still have a fair margin,” said Su Zhe with a certain arrogance. “I think the Western Tribes and the Posheng family have had peaceful relations all these years not because the Western Tribes are kindly or agreeable — there must be a reason they cannot invade. Let us take a page from that and maintain what we have.”
Lu Danqing quickly added: “After a great battle, rest and recovery — once we’ve regrouped, we assess the Western Tribes’ situation and decide the next steps of war or peace.”
Zhù Ying still said nothing. Su Sheng said: “And there is the imperial court — the court and the Western Tribes can’t possibly be aligned.”
Jin Yu nodded: “Besides, we haven’t lost against the Posheng family either!”
Zhù Ying said: “So that is everyone’s view? No other opinions?”
Everyone nodded — some decisively, some with a hint of hesitation — and said no. Zhù Ying said: “Go back and think it over more. Tomorrow we will continue — not a single word of what was said here today is to leave this room. Dismissed. Little Sister, stay behind — have Qingxue look at your wound.”
Everyone rose and began to leave. Before going, several of them looked back at Zhù Ying with a touch of unease. The first group suddenly felt: it seemed very unusual for us to be speaking like this with the Elder Matriarch — did we do something wrong? The second group, without quite knowing why, also regretted speaking too plainly, thinking they should have stayed quiet and observed.
Su Zhe’s heart was especially uneasy — she’d been kept behind, which surely meant she was about to be reprimanded.
Once the others had left the tent, Zhù Qingxue picked up her medicine case and walked over. “Let me look at the wound.”
Zhù Ying said to her: “No need. She had her dressing changed just last night — if you unwrap it again, it will hinder healing.”
That’s it — I’m definitely being scolded!
Zhù Ying said: “Tell me. What are you planning.”
“Well, whether to press on in a single effort or rest first for better prospects — either could work…”
“Not that.”
Then it must be —
“I failed to command my troops properly. I never gathered intelligence showing that Posheng’s family had cavalry to use against me…”
“Get to the real subject.” Zhù Ying said, and gestured to Zhù Qingxue: “There’s something coming from outside — go and see.”
Zhù Qingxue set down the medicine case and left the tent.
Su Zhe then said: “I gave them the opportunity. All they had to do was listen — just listen — and that was all! But they didn’t. They kept doing as they pleased. I am to be the future head of the household, the future chief. To die on the battlefield is at least to die with dignity. There is no need for you to worry about internal unrest at home — my mother has already prepared for that; if things flare up, my mother will have her words ready.”
Zhù Ying said: “When your grandfather died, the events in the main residence were far more turbulent than this. The thing he worried most about before he died still came to pass. Your mother, all these years, has been anything but harsh toward the brothers — and yet it seems some things simply cannot be prevented. I do not ask you to be some saint who transforms all around her and swallows every insult with a smile. Saints — who can actually manage to be one?”
Su Zhe let out a sound of release.
Zhù Ying’s expression turned stern: “But you cannot allow yourself to become accustomed to this method! You cannot, whenever trouble arises, think only of solving it this way!”
“Yes,” Su Zhe said in a small voice, and then added: “But I did try other means first! Su Sheng is all right — my mother sent him to your side. The others…”
“Those several uncles of yours — in the past, some of them stood on your mother’s side; I saw it. And the outcome for their sons? You set fire to everything — the good perished along with the bad.”
Su Zhe said quietly: “People change. Some people never learn to stop, and some — even when they know — cannot escape being pulled along by the current, and end up pushing and testing one boundary after another. An outstretched hand that crosses the line must be struck back, or it doesn’t know to withdraw. Once it does withdraw, everyone can go on living well.”
Zhù Ying said: “You’ve learned how to find justifications for yourself — which is something, I suppose. Your family matters, I will not interfere too much in. But your grandfather entrusted what came after him to me.”
“Elder Matriarch!” Su Zhe tensed.
Zhù Ying said: “Do you understand how important the western campaign is? Do you know what it would cost if your column collapsed because of this? The entire campaign has now contracted — you bear responsibility for that.”
Su Zhe’s fingers curled with tension, gripping tightly to the hem of her clothing, and she exhaled in great, labored breaths: “Yes.”
“I will keep Su Sheng here. All the others go back. You — stay and reflect.”
“Yes…”
“Go.”
“Yes.”
——
Su Zhe and Zhù Qingxue passed each other at the exit, and Su Zhe noticed that Zhù Qingxue was actually holding a stack of envelopes — it was not simply a pretext to leave her alone with Zhù Ying. A flicker of curiosity, but she had just been reprimanded and had to suppress it.
Zhù Qingxue entered the tent and said: “Elder Matriarch, Older Sister Qingtian has sent news.”
Zhù Ying unsealed the first letter while asking: “Have all necessary precautions outside been put in place?”
“Yes — everyone who attended today’s meeting is being watched. The moment anyone lets anything slip, we will know immediately.”
Today’s meeting had two purposes: first, to assess the young people’s judgment; second, to test the security of information.
Assessing judgment also had two dimensions: could they read the situation, and would they hold their own position even when their superior seemed to have already reached a conclusion?
Testing whether everyone’s mouths were tight was even simpler; those who had been at her side a while already knew some of the rules and discipline, but those newly promoted had had very little training, and were not far above “an undisciplined rabble.” Some simple training and filtering was needed.
The letters were from Zhù Qingtian, and they contained news about Jiang Wan and the others. These young women had come from afar, and their backgrounds needed to be understood; and at the same time she wanted to know how their family situations back home were faring, so that if family members were in difficulty, Zhù Ying could also arrange help. Previously, conditions had not permitted it; now that relations with the court had reached a sort of accommodation, the guildhalls were reopened, Gu Tong and others had been sent out for practical experience, and the conditions were in place. So she set about attending to it.
Upon reading, the situation was not very encouraging. Some of the girls had already lost both parents — those cases could be set aside for now. Some had fathers, mothers, wives, or children at home living in poverty — Zhù Ying marked these with the word “bring.” The one that made Zhù Ying frown most was Jiang Wan — her family at home had already held a funeral in her name.
Zhù Ying asked: “I believe Jiang Wan is expecting a child?”
“Yes. Her husband came with her — he’s been teaching at the county school while looking after her. They are living quite contentedly.”
“Set this one aside for now — wait until after she has delivered, then address it.”
“Yes.”
Zhù Ying finished handling the correspondence, collected all the documents, rose, and went to inspect the camp. Soldiers who had just fought their way back and pulled out were still carrying the last traces of adrenaline that had not fully dispersed, alongside the bone-deep fatigue of their bodies. Some, full of energy, were still bouncing and jostling — though even their bouncing carried a trace of laziness. Seeing her approach, they all stopped and looked at her. The quick-minded ones began to salute, their salutes somewhat imprecise.
Zhù Ying paid no attention to this and asked them with a smile what they were up to.
Some said “training,” some said “nothing — nothing at all,” and some said nothing. The commotion brought over their unit leader; Zhù Ying looked up to see the tall, powerfully built man whose enemy was the Posheng Chief stride over and cup his fists: “Elder Matriarch!”
Zhù Ying said: “Go on, do whatever you were doing — I’m just having a look around.” She still hadn’t gone around the whole camp — she had come to check on their clothing and armor, see how they were quartered, and then to check on the cooking unit to see how they were eating. In the process she turned up two cooks who had been secretly skimming and hoarding food supplies and demoted them to outside duties.
She also noticed that the tall man’s bow had some damage, and said: “Qingxue, bring a few bows over and let him try them.”
There was an archery target erected in the camp. Zhù Ying chose three bows suited to his build: “Give them a try.”
By the time Zhù Qingjun rushed over, the tall man was hefting one bow and saying: “This one is good!” A glance at the target showed several arrows already embedded in it.
Zhù Ying said: “So you’ve all come over? His bow was damaged — I had him pick a suitable one.”
The tall man lowered his head to look at his shoes, and said quietly: “It was my carelessness.” He looked nothing like the man who had been so delighted testing the bow just moments before.
Zhù Qingjun said: “Weapons are meant to be used. On the battlefield, who has the luxury of being careful? As long as the person is all right.”
People around them exchanged glances, all thinking much the same thing: if you break something, you really don’t get beaten for it?
A chief’s rules were worse than a beating — there was no established standard at all; having hands or feet cut off was not unheard of.
Zhù Ying casually picked up a bow, nocked three arrows, shot them into the center of the target, and offhandedly asked Zhù Qingjun: “Since you’re here — shall we test our skills together?”
Zhù Qingjun smiled and took the bow: “Gladly.”
The onlookers were first astonished, and then, a moment later, thought to cheer. More and more people crowded over to watch.
The tall man pressed forward and asked Zhù Ying to give him a name: “The Colonel said it was you who rescued her and raised her, and that she took your surname. I heard that in Stone City people have family names. I was taken in by the Colonel — you gave me the chance to take revenge. Please give me a name.”
Zhù Ying had no cause to refuse. She gave him a formal name — Zhù Xinle. Those who felt like joining in also asked for new names on the spot. Slaves’ names were generally not flattering — “wool,” “dog skin” were considered decent; as for names meant to sound “humble and base,” the less said the better. The whole camp was full of noise and bustle. One person was called out: “Didn’t the Colonel already give you a new name? Don’t come crowding in!”
When the next day’s meeting came around, the people seated near the tent’s entrance seemed considerably less awkward. Though they spoke with somewhat halting phrasing, they still agreed that pushing forward was the better option.
And this time, it was Zhù Qingjun and the others whose position had shifted a bit, sounding more like what Su Zhe had said earlier: “Both options have merit, but pursuing momentum and settling it once and for all seems the somewhat better approach.”
Su Sheng also made no urgent push to head west immediately, but instead continued requesting: “When the tasks are done, promise you’ll bring me back.”
Zhù Ying continued to offer no definitive position. She had Zhù Qingxue monitor camp rumor, while also circulating through the camp herself. In the meantime, all the units’ merits and faults had been fully verified; Zhù Ying awarded military ranks to those with distinctions and arranged for rest periods for the local troops.
During this time, two more units came in — they had been dispatched from Zhù County and Gan County as front-line rotation replacements. The commanders leading them were both Wuzhou natives. Both were around thirty years of age, one a man and one a woman, both looking quite capable. Upon entering the main tent and opening their mouths to speak, however, both gave off a touch of plain-spokenness: “We listen to the Elder Matriarch! Say retreat and we retreat!”
The meeting had moved in an even more shapeless direction.
Zhù Ying was not in any hurry. It was only after she had those who wandered about spreading gossip dealt with that she convened the final meeting.
——
In this meeting, Zhù Qingjun, Su Zhe, and the others sat on pins and needles, not knowing what Zhù Ying’s conclusion was. Zhù Xinle and the others were also growing increasingly subdued — they spoke less and less, waiting for Zhù Ying’s conclusion. Everyone was inwardly telling themselves: might as well just listen to the Elder Matriarch. She has never been wrong.
The two newly arrived relief commanders still said the same thing: “We listen to the Elder Matriarch!”
Even Zhù Qingjun had broken into a sweat. She hazarded a tentative question: “Elder Matriarch, might we try once more? My sense is that against the Posheng family, we are not outmatched. Let’s set the autumn harvest as the limit — if we haven’t taken them down by then, we go home for the harvest. Once we’ve recovered, we come back.”
Zhù Ying said with a smile: “Rest for half a month first. Let word circulate — I’m going to pull back.”
“Let word circulate?” Lu Danqing immediately asked.
Zhù Ying smiled: “Let’s lay a trap for them. Qingtian and the others haven’t been idle these days — Posheng Chief’s funds are running short.”
The plan was simple enough: feign retreat and set an ambush. The forces had in fact already contracted. Posheng Chief would likely discover this quickly. According to Zhù Qingtian and the others’ intelligence, Posheng Chief had lost considerable mining holdings and was in urgent need of reclaiming them. Without gold, he would have to trade grain and other goods with the Western Tribes instead. The mountains did produce horses, but cavalry — he still had to spend money buying the right horses from the Western Tribes.
He had iron, but much of the mine territory had already been taken by Zhù Ying, and what remained was being harassed along the transport routes. His weapons were also increasingly failing to keep pace with losses.
Zhù Ying was certain that Posheng Chief would move first toward the revenue-generating sites — these would be the centers of the ambush.
Zhù Qingjun and the others each took command of a sector; as for exactly how to proceed, Zhù Ying did not fix it for them: “No formation is permanent — adapt to the terrain. Act freely!”
“Yes!”
Then came the allocations. Su Zhe watched as assignments were given to person after person and her turn had still not come, and began to feel a little anxious. Su Sheng also grew tense: “Me…”
Zhù Ying said to Su Sheng: “You are to escort your brothers home. Once you’re back, I will have tasks to assign you.” She then pointed at Su Zhe and told her to stay in the main camp to let her wound properly heal before any further plans were made.
Zhù Qingxue promptly stepped forward to second this: “Exactly! Last time the wound hadn’t healed and she had a large chunk of rotting flesh cut away — and now the other arm has been hurt too. This cannot be taken lightly!”
Lu Danqing asked with concern: “Why do you push yourself so hard?”
Su Zhe had plenty she could not say. This was Zhù Ying’s way of keeping her out of the frontline fighting — which meant fewer opportunities to distinguish herself, and when the time came to divide the spoils, she would feel the impact.
Was this punishment? Su Zhe dared not argue.
Everyone moved according to plan. Su Zhe obediently remained in the main camp, helping coordinate supplies.
Of everyone, Zhù Qingjun’s unit moved the fastest. That same day she sent a batch of wounded soldiers back to the rear, took in newly replenished troops, and began working them into cohesion with drills. Only once they were familiar enough with each other would they set out!
Zhù Qingjun trained the troops by day and pored over the maps by night — there was still something she couldn’t let go of. She slipped away to the main tent, exchanged a look with Su Zhe who was sorting through documents, and asked after Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying said: “Something to ask?”
Zhù Qingjun said: “Elder Matriarch, if the Western Tribes enter the battle directly — then what?”
Zhù Ying said with a smile: “What? You’ve started worrying again?”
Zhù Qingjun said with some embarrassment: “If the imperial court could act in concert with us, that would be the best possible outcome. But separated by such distance, and with messages not flowing smoothly — in history, two-pronged encirclements rarely achieved precise coordination.”
Su Zhe muttered softly: “Let alone the fact that the various ministers at court all have their own agendas. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Emperor was hoping we’d drain ourselves against the Western Tribes while he sat back and got the benefit.”
Zhù Ying’s gaze swept across her. Su Zhe went silent.
Zhù Ying said: “The Western Tribes, even if they wanted to enter the battle directly, would hardly commit their entire nation’s forces. My judgment is that Kun Da Chi has not yet tamed all the tribal factions within. As for you — Zhù Xinle is under your command.”
“Yes.”
“Give him a task — I may not always be able to get a clear picture of the front. Act as the situation dictates. Once the Posheng Chief’s forces collapse, he knows the routes — have him lead men and block Posheng Chief’s family from fleeing west toward the Western Tribes. I want the Posheng Chief’s family dead. We cannot let them reach the Western Tribes and give the Tribes a pretext to intervene.”
“Yes!”
The tension inside Su Zhe settled. This battle, it seemed, was far from over — there would still be a reckoning with the Western Tribes later, and she would still have her chance.
Zhù Ying also said: “As for the full picture of the Western Tribes, you and your scouts will work at it, and Qingtian’s people will make their efforts as well.” There was also Lin Feng — one of Lin Feng’s tasks on this trip to the capital was to gather what intelligence he could about the Western Tribes from the imperial court’s side.
Someone like Yao Chenying would very likely know something. The Council of State, the Court of State Ceremonial — both would have some information. Along the way, he was also to get a feel for the court’s strategy toward the Western Tribes. None of this needed to be relayed to Zhù Qingjun or Su Zhe.
Zhù Qingjun had one more concern: “From here on it’s all tough fighting. Casualties will be heavy. We cannot rely on ambushes forever — however foolish Posheng Chief may be, he can learn from being burned. After the ambush inflicts casualties, we will still have to fight face to face. His cavalry, though far from expert, and ours are also new to it. Then there’s what comes after…”
“No battle is fought without deaths. I have already made provision for compensating bereaved families and raising orphans — prepare for one-third casualties. If casualties exceed one-third, the battle cannot continue and the army will inevitably break — everyone will die together.” Zhù Ying said. Having one-third casualties before a rout was the mark of elite forces. Usually, at ten percent casualties, many units would already start to waver in spirit.
Zhù Qingjun finally settled fully at heart, and departed with Lu Danqing and the others one after another.
From spring through autumn, Posheng Chief’s losses mounted steadily. Zhù Qingjun’s forces feigned weakness, feigned surrender, and launched surprise attacks by turns, always aiming to inflict maximum casualties at the start of an engagement.
Then, sparing no expense, they pushed forward on multiple fronts simultaneously. By the time of the autumn harvest, every one of Posheng Chief’s allies had been killed; the Posheng Chief himself was surrounded within his family’s great city, watching helplessly as Wang Jiu and the laboring conscripts harvested the grain in the fields outside the walls.
The grain that his slaves had sown.