Chapter 452: Converging March (Part One)

The Jingbian Army’s discipline was ironclad: three cannon blasts, and the entire army formed ranks on the drill ground — anyone who failed to arrive, whether soldier or officer, was executed!

The urgent brass gongs in the Yi Battalion camp clanged incessantly. Zhao Rongcheng shouted, “Move out in weapon-number order — every man take his own weapon!”

The men of Jia squad filed past the weapon racks one by one, seized their long armor-piercing cone-tipped spears, and swiftly marched out the door. From the Jia squad barracks of the neighboring You squad, column after column of helmeted, armored soldiers bearing long spears likewise emerged. All five squads of Ding Platoon were uniformly long-spearmen.

Once outside, Zhao Rongcheng swept his gaze over the assembled brothers of his squad and barked, “Count off by weapon number.”

Han Kaizhi bellowed, “Ten!”

Wu Dingguo shouted, “Nine!”

“Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…”

Zhao Rongcheng roared, “One!”

He led his own horse forward and commanded, “Whole squad, advance at the double — to the platoon assembly ground.”

Instantly the entire squad ran forward, heavy footfalls pounding the earth, while behind them the count-off calls from the neighboring You squad rang on without pause.

When they reached the platoon assembly ground, Platoon Officer Sun Xuesheng was already standing there with his hands clasped behind his back. He wore full armor, a blue tassel fluttering atop his helmet. The ordinarily genial Platoon Leader Sun now held the troop roster, his expression graver than ever before. Beside him stood his bodyguard Li Song, equally stern-faced.

Seeing that Zhao Rongcheng was the first to arrive with his entire squad, Platoon Leader Sun could not help nodding — worthy of a man who also served as assistant platoon leader; his reaction was indeed faster than the other squad leaders’.

Soon after, heavy tramping footfalls sounded as the remaining four squads arrived one after another.

Luo Liangzuo’s squad was the third to arrive. He led his horse, moving nimbly at a run, all the while urging his squad brothers: “Quick, quick, quick.”

Very soon, all five squads of Ding Platoon had assembled before the platoon leader. Sun Xuesheng said in a deep voice, “Full platoon — report.”

Zhao Rongcheng roared, “Right Battalion Rear Division Yi Battalion Ding Platoon First Squad — all present.”

Lai Dexiang roared, “Right Battalion Rear Division Yi Battalion Ding Platoon Second Squad — all present.”

“…Third Squad — all present.”

“…Fourth Squad…”

Sun Xuesheng swept his eyes across them, snapped the troop roster shut, and ordered, “Move.”

He likewise led his horse and headed at a run toward the battalion drill ground, the entire platoon following.

On the Yi Battalion drill ground, Battalion Commander Huang Wei, his face set, together with all the officers of the battalion command staff, had long been waiting. Beside him, the standard-bearer held a battalion banner one zhang and one chi tall — scarlet red, with the Azure Dragon and White Tiger, the Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise upon it; as the breeze stirred, it snapped and rustled. At its center, golden waves, sun, and moon churned and rolled…

Finally, the four battalions of the Rear Division converged under the banner of Company Commander Tian Qiming. Every battalion, every platoon, in perfect formation, advanced toward the regimental drill ground.

…

Right Guard White Tiger Regiment. Drill ground.

Mobile Corps Commander and Right Regiment Grand Commander Zhong Xiancai stood in silence. Around and behind him were the regiment’s various officers. To the side, standard-bearers and drummers stood at attention; among them, one standard-bearer held the regiment commander’s great banner, one zhang and five chi tall, with tasseled head, pearl-beaded fringe, and pheasant-tail trim. As the morning breeze blew, the fiery red banner-face billowed unceasingly.

Compared to the fair, round-faced youth of those early days, Zhong Xiancai had grown much thinner over the years — yet the thinner he became, the more his handsome features and steely resolve showed through. Only his voice remained unchanged, still soft and fine.

He watched the hourglass and murmured as if to himself, “I wonder how many cannon blasts it will take for our regiment to reach the central army grand drill ground.”

The Central Army Officer said, “For outside troops, three cannon blasts, each blast half a shichen apart; for our army, it is two ke. However, our Jingbian Army is highly trained — in this officer’s estimation, even with shortened intervals, we can fully assemble at the central army encampment by the second blast, or even before.”

The regiment officers around him all nodded, their faces showing pride.

Zhong Xiancai also smiled faintly and said in a gentle tone, “From the Shunxiang Army of those days to where we are now — the Grand General has had far too hard a road.”

Not long after, Right Regiment Front Division Company Commander Yin Yijin, Rear Division Company Commander Tian Qiming, Left Division Company Commander Yang Guodong, and Right Division Company Commander Gao Gui led their troops in succession to the regimental drill ground.

The Central Army Officer called the roll; the Provost Marshal oversaw. Zhong Xiancai led the Right Regiment’s three thousand and more officers and men, arrayed in formation, marching toward the central army grand drill ground.

…

Just as the second cannon blast sounded, Zhong Xiancai led his troops into the central army grand drill ground — yet by then, Han Chao’s Rear Regiment main force had already reached the ground, apparently arriving a moment earlier than Zhong Xiancai.

By this time, the Artillery Battalion, Cavalry Battalion, Scout Battalion, and Supply Battalion under the central army had long since arrived — they, of course, had the advantage of being camped on the spot.

The two infantry-cavalry regiments, together with the central army’s various battalions, numbered roughly fifteen thousand men and horses, a dense black mass covering the central army grand drill ground.

So many men and horses gathered together, yet not a single sound — fiery red armor, fiery red banners; a murderous aura, a bloody reek, a martial majesty spread through the air above the drill ground.

To be in such an atmosphere was the surest way to set one’s blood boiling.

Zhao Rongcheng gripped his long spear tightly. Around him were countless soldiers armored like himself. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but red banners and more red banners, nothing but iron helmets and more iron helmets — this power of steel filled Zhao Rongcheng’s chest and belly with such heroic passion that he felt it might burst from his body.

Beside him, Lai Dexiang and Luo Liangzuo panted heavily; even Deng Yibiao, ever composed, now felt his chest heaving rapidly, clearly stirred beyond restraint.

After an unknown span of time, suddenly a cannon blast sounded, and then a great roaring cry surged from the distant army formation: “Grand General — ten thousand victories!”

A voice like a roaring mountain and crashing sea, carrying terrifying momentum, swept toward the formation where Zhao Rongcheng stood.

Zhao Rongcheng felt as if everything around him had exploded; a mountain-shattering thunder of cheers rolled past his ears.

His face flushed crimson. With no time to think, he raised his long spear and bellowed: “Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories!”

Amid the mountain-roar and sea-crash, the sound of hoofbeats arose. Loyal and Brave Count, General of the Punitive Expedition Wang Dou, in gleaming armor and a great scarlet cloak, riding a blood-red tall steed, slowly approached. Behind him came the equally mounted, brightly armored soldiers of the Guard Battalion, and behind them the various officers and commanders of the marshal’s camp.

Wang Dou swept his gaze over the troops on the field and proceeded toward the reviewing stand.

Over there, Eastern Route Military Defense Circuit Intendant Ma Guoxi, Yanqing Department Magistrate Wu Zhi and others, along with the various commanders of the Loyalty and Righteousness Battalion, had long been waiting, as had Wen Fangliang, Gao Shiyin, and others who were not deploying on this campaign. It was plain to see that, faced with the Jingbian Army’s might, the Eastern Route officials and the old Loyalty and Righteousness Battalion commanders all changed color.

During the roll call that followed, Zhao Rongcheng could not hear what was said on the platform; he only saw one officer after another ascend the platform to report to the Grand General.

Finally, Zhao Rongcheng saw the Grand General step to the front of the platform, draw his keen sword, and slowly turn his arm.

Everyone watched Wang Dou’s hand, watched his sword slowly shift — then suddenly the blade flashed and pointed fixedly toward the direction of Liaodong.

Everyone erupted in cheers, wave upon rising wave of roaring cries: “To war! To war! To war!”

Wang Dou’s sword pointed again, and amid the tide of cheers, the night scouts of the Scout Battalion were the first to gallop out.

After them, the troops of the Right Regiment and Rear Regiment struck camp, followed by the central army’s various battalions. The cavalry brought up the rear.

A rolling torrent surged out of the great Western Suburb Barracks.

…

The army marched to war. From the barracks’ restricted road all the way to Yongning City’s west gate, the city’s common folk had long been waiting in dense throngs.

The army advanced steadily, passing through these cheering crowds. Before the west gate, led by Wang Dou’s mother, Lady Zhong, together with Xie Xiuniang, Ji Junjiao, and the other women, as well as the wives of the various officers, all poured wine to fortify the troops for the journey. The Grand Dowager Countess, the Countess herself, offering wine — what solemnity! So Wen Daxing, Zhong Xiancai, Han Chao, and the other commanders all halted and accepted together with the Grand General.

Bowl after bowl of wine was poured; every officer from company commander upward held a bowl. Lady Zhong looked at Wang Dou, her eyes full of a mother’s hope and pride in her son.

Her voice strong and full, she cried out loudly: “Dou’er, and all you generals — drink this bowl of wine together! This old woman wishes you victory as soon as your banners fly!”

Wang Dou shouted, "Good!"

He took the wine bowl and drained it in one gulp.

The commanders behind him also drank their bowls dry, then one by one smashed the bowls on the ground, their hearts brimming with heroic spirit.

Wang Dou looked deeply at his mother, then at Xie Xiuniang, Ji Junjiao, and the other women — they all smiled at him.

Finally, Wang Dou bowed deeply to his mother, mounted his horse, and Han Chao and the others also mounted, ready to spur their horses away.

At that moment someone said, "Husband, wait."

Wang Dou looked over — it was Han Chao's wife, Lady Zheng. She rushed out from the crowd and said to Han Chao, "Husband, yesterday I went to the Temple of the Goddess and asked for a peace talisman. Let me put it on you."

Han Chao trembled in alarm, glanced sheepishly at those beside him, and whispered to his wife, "What are you doing? You'll make others laugh at us."

Lady Zheng said forthrightly, "What is there to fear? I care about my own man — is that wrong?"

She raised her voice toward Lady Zhong: "Grand Lady Zhong, would you say I am right?"

Lady Zhong laughed heartily: "Right, right — caring about your own man is never wrong."

Han Chao let her do as she pleased, already so mortified he wished the ground would swallow him. Finally Lady Zheng said softly, "Husband, be careful in all things. I will wait for your return."

She kissed Han Chao on the cheek. With a startled cry, he spurred his horse and bolted away, his face as red as a monkey's backside.

The crowd roared with laughter, and whistles rose from all around.

Wang Dou stared blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing. Lady Zheng dared to love and dared to hate — truly she was a fine match for Han Chao.

The great army advanced along the road, and at every place common folk came to see them off. As they neared Yanqing, Chen Jiugao, Regional Commander of Liugou, also came to the official road junction to bid them farewell.

Ever since that day, Chen Jiugao had regarded Wang Dou as a close friend, and when a close friend went to war, Chen Jiugao felt it was only right to come and see him off.

Wang Dou thanked him. The army passed through Yanqing Subprefecture. Before long, scout riders reported that Yang Guozhu, Regional Commander of Xuanzhen, had led the garrison army to a point not far from Yulin Fort, and that Wang Pu, Regional Commander of Datong, had led his army past Huailai City as well.

Wang Dou smiled faintly. "Good."

He knew that Yang Guozhu had set out three days early, and Wang Pu had broken camp as early as mid-sixth month.

Originally, the best and easiest marching route from Datong Garrison to the Eastern Circuit would have been to follow the Sanggan River downstream. But that only worked when the Sanggan's water volume was sufficient to float boats and transport grain — now it was not, so they could only take the land route, which inevitably slowed them somewhat.

Still, Wang Pu had managed to arrive in time to rendezvous and march together with them.

Wang Dou led his troops to Yulin Fort and waited. Here the official road split in two: one branch going to Yanqing and Yongning, the other to Huailai, Baoan, Chadao City, and Badaling.

Yu Gui, Assistant Regional Commander of the Nanshan Circuit, led the various Yulin officers to see them off at the official road, speaking auspicious words. Wang Dou exchanged pleasantries with him. Before long, on the official road toward Huailai, dust and smoke rolled, and amid the muffled thunder of hoofbeats, large masses of cavalry came rumbling and galloping forward.

These cavalrymen all wore long, bright-red riding coats, cloud-winged helmets, and arm-guards. Their horsemanship was superb, and they exuded a fierce, battle-hardened air.

Every regiment had a slanted regimental banner eleven feet long; every squad had a back-banner; every file had a lance pennant. Amid the dense thicket of flags, a huge banner bearing the character "Yang" flew high.

The commanders beneath the banner were all thick-set and sturdy, looking about with pride. The man at their head was tall and powerfully built, his face weathered by wind and frost, his iron armor exceptionally thick. As he galloped, the great scarlet cloak on his back billowed out to its fullest — it was none other than Left Chief Commissioner, General Who Guards the North, Regional Commander of Xuanfu Garrison, Yang Guozhu.