Chapter 1202: Future Generals

On the other side, Wang Quanbin and Pan Mei had already rested, both sitting on the ridge of a field. In the first month of the seventh year of Kaibao, the two men had almost become the protagonists, the two most dazzling stars in the court, the focus of ten thousand eyes.

Wang Quanbin was elevated in rank to Commandery Duke of Pingnan, and Pan Mei also advanced a step, elevated to Commandery Duke of Fanyang. It must be said—whether Yang Ye or Pan Mei, both had, to a greater or lesser extent, received special favor from Emperor Liu.

Of course, this was not a question of fairness or unfairness; it was simply that Emperor Liu, while ensuring the water was kept as level as possible, occasionally splashed out a few drops. Moreover, Yang Ye, Pan Mei, plus Shi Shouxin and Cao Bin—these were the commanders of the Han army that Emperor Liu had in mind to take up the banner of their predecessors.

After all, veterans like Wang Quanbin and Xiang Xun were getting on in years, while contemporaries like Guo Rong, Zhao Kuangyin, and Gao Huaide had already begun to be restricted by Emperor Liu due to various political factors.

Guo Rong, because of his father's death, had been recuperating for a year and a half; Zhao Kuangyin, stationed in the Ministry of War, was inwardly uncertain about where his next post would be; as for Gao Huaide, after returning to the capital, he was also idle—his reinstatement was certain, but he would most likely never again be entrusted with the three yamen of the imperial army.

Beginning in the sixth year of Kaibao, Emperor Liu had again intensified his work on military construction, the most important point of which was the rejuvenation of the ranks.

The service records of generals and field officers could be long, but the same was not true for the lower-ranking officers and soldiers. A full ten years had already passed since the Northern Expedition, and ten years was enough time for the army to undergo renewal and generational turnover.

Compared to the frontier prefectures, the situation in the central imperial army was somewhat better, after all, elite soldiers from all over the realm were continuously rotating to the capital for garrison duty. Nevertheless, a certain degree of aging was still unavoidable, and what Emperor Liu targeted were those lower-ranking officers and soldiers over thirty-five years of age.

During that year, Emperor Liu further promoted young talents and generals with thin credentials to lead the army, while at the same time, he discharged a large number of aged soldiers, infusing fresh blood to enhance combat effectiveness.

Among these, the imperial army of the two capitals alone saw nearly five thousand men replaced. When it came to the military, Emperor Liu always acted with caution and thorough consideration, and the treatment was never poor.

Those who were discharged were also given proper arrangements—officers were directly transferred to civil posts, while soldiers either transferred to auxiliary troops or were used as yamen runners, constables, courier station guards, transport personnel, and the like under various departments. Naturally, this involved another round of screening and elimination, touching upon the new replacing the old among a large number of personnel in the military-political system.

As for those who retired completely, they were given sufficient money and grain. Although last year's reorganization was driven by Emperor Liu's will, the Commissioner of Military Affairs Li Chuyun, who was responsible for carrying it out, also came under some attack—officers and soldiers who were unwilling to move from their positions harbored considerable resentment toward him.

It could be foreseen that into the seventh year of Kaibao, the training and reorganization of the internal and external armies would continue. Ordinary people would only think the court was making a fuss, but those with insight could see that Emperor Liu was preparing for war, gathering momentum and storing strength—and against whom, one could well imagine.

However, these movements and omens were not known to Wang Quanbin and Pan Mei, who had just returned to the capital. The two men had rarely crossed paths in the past—one could even say they had no dealings at all—yet they were the most renowned generals of the Great Han over the past two or three years.

With no grudges or grievances, no conflicts of interest, the two men conversed and found each other quite agreeable. Wang Quanbin looked older and older with each passing glance—the harsh environment of the southwest, combined with such an arduous journey and campaign, had long since overwhelmed his body. In fact, the very fact that he had walked out of Dali's treacherous mountains and rivers intact had already surprised many.

In light of this, on this trip accompanying the imperial entourage, Emperor Liu permitted him to work as circumstances allowed. Compared to the aging Wang Quanbin, Pan Mei could be described as being in his prime—in his forties, elegant and refined, a handsome older gentleman.

"... Lord Wang, in the Dali campaign, you showed great courage and extraordinary boldness—enough to be passed down through the ages, forever praised!" Pan Mei said with a face full of emotion: "I, Mei, am truly ashamed of my inferiority!"

"Zhongxun flatters me!" Wang Quanbin no longer had the arrogance of his younger days. Having returned to court, even laden with glory, he appeared restrained overall. Facing Pan Mei's praise, he sighed lightly: "Thinking back after the battle, it was too risky. I still feel the fear to this day—had there been the slightest misstep, it would have meant the annihilation of the entire army!"

"The Dali campaign cost too many officers and soldiers their lives—how many loyal and brave souls departed beyond the borders, buried in foreign lands, some without even a corpse to be found!" Wang Quanbin said, his old eyes actually turning somewhat red. Pointing at his own head, he said: "Ask not of enfeoffment in the face of war—one general's success costs ten thousand bones. This title of mine, I am unworthy to bear it!"

Hearing this, Pan Mei also fell into silence. He too was a seasoned general who had led troops in battle for years, and he could appreciate Wang Quanbin's feelings. Cupping his hands, he said: "Lord Wang's love for his soldiers—I, Mei, admire it!"

Looking at him, he then spoke words of comfort: "The soldiers of the southern expedition are all heroes, enshrined in Zhaolie, their spirits immortal! In war, casualties are unavoidable. The Dali campaign certainly suffered enormous losses, but had it not been for Lord Wang's bold penetration, striking straight at the heart, the war's conclusion would likely have dragged on much longer. Given the terrain and popular sentiment of the southwest, the price the court would have paid would have been incalculable, and the casualties might have been even heavier!"

Hearing this consolation, Wang Quanbin finally recovered. Ignoring the dirt on his hands, he wiped his face and said: "Fortunately, I gambled correctly and succeeded by luck. Otherwise, how could I face those fallen comrades..."

After speaking, Wang Quanbin swept his eyes over Pan Mei again, looking quite moved: "The two of us both led troops in the south. Zhongxun's pacification of Annam was also well done—sweeping away all obstacles, seizing opportunities keenly, annihilating the enemy with ease, and with minimal losses—quite achieving the effect of subduing the enemy without fighting!"

Pan Mei shook his head and waved his hands, responding: "I cannot compare to Lord Wang. Dali was after all an independent state with deep roots and foundations, and with the natural defenses of mountains and rivers. Annam was not the same—divided and fractured, wracked by constant internal strife, giving me opportunities to exploit. The two cannot be compared!"

Soon, both men entered a mode of mutual flattery, each praising the other's skill in commanding troops and overcoming difficulties...

"Zhongxun enjoys deep trust from His Majesty. Upon returning to court this time, you will surely be entrusted with important responsibilities!" Finally, Wang Quanbin said with a light sigh, a trace of complex emotion in his old eyes.

Hearing this, Pan Mei very respectfully bowed in the direction of Emperor Liu, saying: "Having been elevated by Your Majesty, I seek only to serve with utmost sincerity and dedication in return. I leave everything to Your Majesty's arrangements..."

While the generals were conversing, Emperor Liu's side had also rested. His hoe stuck in the field, he sat on its handle, calling over Crown Prince Liu Yang, who was also dressed as a farmer. While drinking water, he listened to reports on what the generals were discussing.

It wasn't that Emperor Liu had ears that could hear the wind—there were people specifically reporting to him. He was not at all surprised by Wang Yansheng's performance; that rough fellow had always been like this, but now he had gained some extra thoughtfulness and a bit of shrewdness.

Still, the four words "the army's morale is usable" flashed through his mind. Clearly, the incentive effect of the Shangyuan Festival ennoblement was manifesting.

Regarding the exchange between Wang Quanbin and Pan Mei, Emperor Liu asked Liu Yang for his view. Liu Yang was somewhat unclear as to what Emperor Liu's intention was, and could only offer his thoughts based on his own understanding: "The Duke of Fanyang is commendably loyal, and the Duke of Pingnan is a true general!"

At this, Emperor Liu chuckled. Wang Quanbin's display had not earned him any extra points in Emperor Liu's eyes. With such a ruthless man, if one truly believed he would shed tears of grief for fallen soldiers, that would be far too naive...

Merely for scouting the route, several hundred elite soldiers had been sacrificed along the way. Before executing the outflanking plan, how could he not have known the dangers involved and foreseen the casualties?

What Emperor Liu was pondering was why Wang Quanbin was putting on such a show—was it to establish a persona? Or for some other purpose?

Emperor Liu did not directly express these dark speculations. Looking at Liu Yang, he asked him directly: "With Generals Wang and Pan returning to court, how do you think they should be arranged?"

Liu Yang was surprised again. Regarding personnel matters, especially military appointments and dismissals, Liu Yang had always observed his proper bounds, unwilling to interfere too much. But since Emperor Liu asked for his opinion again, he hesitated somewhat, yet meeting Emperor Liu's somewhat forceful gaze, he still gave an answer: "Place them in the imperial army to lead troops!"

This answer was far too ordinary—it was also the most common practice in the past for returning generals.

Emperor Liu then said softly: "Pan Mei will remain a general; Wang Quanbin should retire and enjoy his old age..."