Chapter 100: Marching North to Zhending

The essay Tao Gu had written was clearly quite good—a fine hand of clerical script. Reading it through, the prose was grand and impassioned, sweeping in its force. Although Liu Chengyou's own cultivation did not permit him to offer any profound literary critique, that did not stop him from expressing his approval.

After praising Tao Gu a couple of times, Liu Chengyou decided to keep the man at his side for the time being, serving as a registrar attached to the army, as his pen. The position was admittedly humble, but Tao Gu appeared to accept the appointment gladly, taking to it with relish. This man might be lacking in private virtue, but he was certainly a very clever fellow—keen political instincts, skilled at currying favor.

Moreover, at least in the short term, Liu Chengyou could hardly detect anything disgraceful in Tao Gu's personal character. Still, he was quite satisfied with his literary talent. Previously, the drafting of official correspondence had mostly been entrusted to Guo Rong and Xiang Xun—in this regard, the two of them were not even in the same league as Tao Gu; even Wei Renpu could not match him.

"May I ask what Your Highness has summoned this old man for?" In the military tent, Feng Dao bowed his aged back slightly, stealing a careful glance at Liu Chengyou, and asked cautiously.

This old gentleman, having weathered a lifetime of officialdom and seen through the ways of the world, despite his advanced years, still remained low-key and courteous before Liu Chengyou, who was young enough to be his grandson—not a trace of presuming on his age.

Noting Feng Dao's circumspect demeanor, Liu Chengyou could not help recalling the scene when he had first met this gentleman—truly, knowing someone by reputation was nothing compared to meeting them in person. Yet, for all this white-haired old man's harmless appearance, even seeming somewhat obsequious, if one looked at his brow, there was not the slightest hint of anxiety or unease.

"Chancellor Feng—"

Liu Chengyou had barely begun when Feng Dao smiled modestly: "Your Highness, this old man is now but a commoner, a talentless old fellow—unworthy of the title 'Chancellor'..."

Feng Dao had expressed such sentiments more than once already. Glancing at Feng Dao, Liu Chengyou's lips twitched, and he said directly: "The state is newly founded, and it is precisely men of virtue like you, Lord Feng, that are needed to stabilize the situation and win over hearts. Even before His Majesty, there will surely be a chancellor's seat for you!"

Seeing the old man open his mouth, clearly intending to offer more modest refusals, Liu Chengyou waved his hand, unwilling to bandy about such unproductive pleasantries. He handed him a letter, his expression turning serious: "This Zhang Li—what's his story? Can he be trusted?"

The letter came from Zhending, from Zhang Li. It reported the strategic intention of Yelu Ruan to lead the invading Liao army in a full withdrawal back to Khitan territory, advising Liu Chengyou to prepare early; as for the rest, it expressed an overflowing eagerness to return to his homeland.

Liu Chengyou had reservations about this letter. It had arrived far too inexplicably—this Zhang Li gave him a suspicious feeling. He even wondered whether this might be some trick of the Khitan, meant to deceive him.

Facing Liu Chengyou's question, Feng Dao set down the letter, thought it over seriously for a while, unconsciously stroking his beard, and then said in a measured tone: "This Zhang Mengchen—this old man knows something of him. He is upright by nature, cherishes righteousness, and values talent. This letter may be trusted—but not entirely."

Feng Dao's words were ambiguous. Liu Chengyou distilled what little useful information he could from them, his tone tinged with suspicion: "I heard from Wei Renpu that this Zhang Li entered Khitan territory in the first year of Tianfu, serving Yelu Deguang for ten years. Why would he suddenly send someone to deliver a letter of submission, expressing his intent to defect?"

"Wei Renpu only knows the surface of it. Zhang Mengchen is a man of sentiment—he served the Khitan only because the Liao sovereign treated him well, and he sought to repay that kindness!" Feng Dao said. "He was originally a minister of the Later Tang, forced by circumstance into Khitan service—how could he have any heart to devote himself wholly to the northern barbarians? Few know that Zhang Mengchen, while in Khitan, once longed for his homeland and attempted to flee back to the southern states, only to be discovered by the Liao sovereign, who sent cavalry to retrieve him."

Listening to Feng Dao's words, Liu Chengyou felt that something was off. Thinking it over carefully, he caught the implication—it was as if Feng Dao were speaking of himself. They, the ministers of the Later Jin, had likewise submitted to the Khitan and served as officials of their court. Though the time had been short, they had, after all, been Liao officials for a while...

His gaze roamed over Feng Dao twice, a hint of amusement creeping into Liu Chengyou's eyes.

Feng Dao continued: "Zhang Mengchen, as a Han Chinese official trusted by the Liao sovereign, was deeply resented by others. Combined with his upright temperament, he offended many Khitan nobles. Now that the Liao sovereign is dead, if he lingers long in Khitan lands, he will surely come to no good end. This time, Your Highness defeated the Khitan in a single battle at Luancheng—with such prestige, his desire to return and submit is not too surprising."

Slowly digesting what Feng Dao had said, Liu Chengyou understood in his heart—this old man, seemingly defending Zhang Li, was in truth defending himself...

Resting his chin on his hand, Liu Chengyou asked: "Lord Feng, you are indeed widely experienced—so well acquainted with the situation of Zhang Li and the Khitan!"

Feng Dao clasped his hands: "This old man is merely old, has seen many things, and knows many people—nothing more."

Having said this, he added another line: "Still, Zhang Mengchen is after all in Khitan territory, dwelling among wolves and tigers. This sudden letter may indeed be a Khitan trick. That Prince of Yongkang can be said to have some measure of talent—Your Highness would do well to be on guard."

At this shift in Feng Dao's tone, Liu Chengyou truly admired this old fox—steady as an old hound. He had said both the positive and the negative; how to decide, he left to Liu Chengyou's own judgment...

Still, a conversation with Feng Dao had brought Liu Chengyou some gain—at least he had made up his mind to set this letter aside and ignore it. Given how the situation was developing, whether the Liao army withdrew or not, Liu Chengyou could sit securely at his ease, station his troops at Luancheng, drill his soldiers, and continue digesting the fruits of the Luancheng victory. There was really no need for too many restless ideas.

His mind made up, his face betrayed not a trace of it. He let out a light breath. Looking at Feng Dao, who kept his eyelids lowered throughout, he could not help but sigh inwardly. Interacting with him always yielded some gain—it was just that this old man did so love to speak in circles.

He kept Feng Dao for a meal before courteously seeing him back to his tent. An old gentleman like him—it would not do to serve too greasy fare. The meal was light and simple, yet the old man looked as if he were dining on delicacies.

Within less than two days, word came from the north—news from Zhending. The Liao army had indeed withdrawn, stripping Zhending bare, looting all the way back. It matched Zhang Li's letter closely, and was no different from what Liu Chengyou and Wei Renpu had previously discussed.

Upon hearing the news, Liu Chengyou sent cavalry to continue trailing and watching them, while he led the main force to remain encamped at Luancheng, waiting until he had confirmed the Liao army had gone far before leading his men north. When it came to being cautious, Liu Chengyou could be excessively careful.

Of course, in this process, Liu Chengyou made great use of the Khitan withdrawal plan. In his capacity as "General Commander of Resistance Against the Liao in Hebei," he dispatched dozens of envoys to the various prefectures, circulating proclamations, vigorously rousing the soldiers and civilians of the prefectures and counties to kill the barbarian invaders and avenge the nation's wrongs.

And as news of the Luancheng battle gradually spread, while Liu Chengyou's fame swelled, the cause of "resisting the Liao" in Hebei also became thoroughly inflamed. The Battle of Luancheng had truly roused the people's spirit, venting the pent-up fury of over a decade of Hebei soldiers and civilians being invaded, plundered, and oppressed by the Khitan.

When over a hundred thousand elite Khitan troops had been defeated in a single battle, what was left to fear? As this kind of thinking spread, the retreat path of the Khitan forces mired in Hebei was destined to be anything but smooth.

Not to mention other distant places—in the prefectures around Zhenzhou, such as Heng and Zhao, righteous armies sprang up like swarms of bees.