Chapter 1315: Relief for Liaodong

In autumn, the temperature in Liaoyang had already dropped considerably. Especially after an autumn rain, it felt even colder, and the air faintly carried the smell of rotting dead branches and fallen leaves. Amid the evening mist, this bleak and oppressive scene was the most truthful portrayal that war had brought to Liaoyang.

The Liaoyang region had a rainy climate, with frequent torrential downpours and heavy rains. Fortunately, the rainiest season had already passed. Otherwise, it would have been even harder for the Great Han soldiers on this long expedition, especially those from the Central Plains and the northwest.

Since advancing east into Liaodong, besides combat casualties, the Han army had also seen a large number of illnesses. Acclimatization was a problem every army had to face in every campaign—the soldiers were not only fighting the enemy, but also struggling against the natural environment and climate.

Thanks to the Great Han's thorough and meticulous logistical support, disease control had been handled reasonably well. Military doctors and medicines were amply prepared, and some physicians and medical officers had even been drawn from the Imperial Medical Institute to provide support.

Liaodong was also a relatively developed civilized region, not a wild frontier, and its natural conditions had not deteriorated to a point that was insurmountably harsh.

But the problems that actually existed still needed to be solved. It was precisely because of these difficulties and risks on every side that the field headquarters had so readily reached a consensus earlier and jointly submitted a memorial requesting a halt for rest and reorganization.

Many things could never be understood with the most direct and profound clarity by Emperor Liu and his ministers far in the rear, relying only on memorials and imagination.

Fortunately, Emperor Liu was accommodating and approved the field headquarters' request, giving the Liaodong army a chance to rest and the war-ravaged people of Liaodong a chance to catch their breath.

Otherwise, if they had pressed on recklessly, continuing to pursue the Liao army deeper into the northeast, even if they succeeded in annihilating the remaining enemies and winning victory, the price paid would not be small, and the soldiers would be utterly miserable. "Pursue the cornered foe with remaining valor" — that too depends on the specific circumstances.

The strategy for pacifying and governing Liaodong that Crown Prince Liu Yang had previously submitted to Emperor Liu, once approved, was gradually being implemented. Of course, since little time had passed, the results were not yet apparent. The only thing that had truly entered the implementation stage was famine relief for the people of Liaodong. As for everything else, the time was still too short—many matters could not be arranged properly, and there were no conditions for implementation.

It had been less than twenty days since Liaoyang was recovered. The Han army's control over all of Liaodong was, in reality, only military occupation, and even that was limited to certain towns and cities. Political recruitment and pacification still awaited future efforts.

Throughout Liaodong, apart from the towns controlled by the Han army, all grassroots organizations were in a complete state of anarchy. The Han–Liao war had utterly destroyed the original Liao grassroots governance.

The old ruling order had collapsed, and a new one had not yet been rebuilt—Liaodong was in this chaotic stage. For the surviving Han and barbarian commoners scattered across Liaodong, it was as if they had already been in hell and were trampled down several more levels.

Though the direct devastation of war had come to an end for now, the deep-seated calamities it brought continued unabated. Famine spread across the land, epidemics raged, bandits ran rampant—the crisis of survival had reached its most severe stage, and everyone could only endure with bitter struggle, scraping by and surviving day to day, seeing no hope at all.

If no forceful and effective measures were taken, then it was certain that what the Great Han ultimately obtained would be nothing but ruins and rubble. Liu Yang and Zhao Kuangyin saw all this and knew deeply that action had to be taken, that things had to be corrected.

Therefore, during this period, Liu Yang, the supreme commander of the army, set aside military affairs and devoted all his energy to the matters of governing and pacifying Liaodong.

After so many years, Liu Yang had considerable experience with post-war rehabilitation; this time it was just practical execution. Though things were a tangled mess, he was not yet overwhelmed. Since the situation had already deteriorated to this extent, there was nothing more to worry about. Amid a thousand threads, there was always a main one, and Liu Yang had clearly grasped the key: saving the people.

For the starving masses of Liaodong, nothing was more enticing than a mouthful of food. Staying alive was the most basic need, and once satisfied, it could work wonders.

And Liu Yang had the ability to implement it—the Han army had grain, and in chaotic times, that was the greatest capital. In fact, from the moment Liaoyang was taken, Liu Yang had already begun. In the name of the Northern Expedition Marshal, he sent people to proclaim to the people of all ethnicities in Liaodong the court's attitude of recruitment and relief policies, and established large porridge stations in both Liaoyang and Shenzhou to relieve the starving.

At the same time, Zhao Kuangyin, while adjusting the army's defensive deployments, also dispatched troops into the countryside to wipe out the bandits active among the people, at least snuffing out those destabilizing elements that directly disrupted public order.

For the people of Liaodong, the Liao state had already disappointed them utterly with its previous militarism—conscripting soldiers on a massive scale and plundering the people's wealth and livestock. But they held no goodwill toward the Han army either. Though the Han army fought under the grand banner of recovering old territory, in the end they were invaders, the very culprits who had brought these calamities upon them.

Therefore, it was impossible to win people's hearts easily through relief measures alone. Of course, Liu Yang was not that naive. What he wanted was simply to restore order as much as possible, to save more of Liaodong's people, and to preserve a bit more of Liaodong's vitality. If the Great Han was to rebuild its rule over Liaodong, ultimately it would be ruling the people of all ethnicities living on this land. His sights were set on the future.

Due to the lack of trust, the Han army's relief efforts initially had little effect. The scene of starving masses swarming in at the issuance of an order never happened. Even around the cities, there was no significant response.

Later, Liu Yang simply resorted to force. He had Zhao Kuangyin send cavalry into the countryside to drive the starving people of Liaodong toward Liaoyang and Shenzhou to receive food. After more than half a month, the fact that the Han army was genuinely distributing grain became real, word spread, and results began to show.

For the people of Liaodong on the brink of starvation, seeing hope gave them the motivation to pursue it. The craving for life is, after all, human instinct. Even if the Han army were tigers and wolves, even if the cities of Liao and Shen were a dragon's pool and tiger's den, they still brought the old and carried the young, gathering to beg for food.

The grain for relief was basically drawn from military provisions, and the amount distributed was strictly controlled—being able to eat one's fill was out of the question. In any case, the several hundred thousand troops stationed in Liaodong would always come first.

And disaster relief was not a one-time affair; it was long-term work that needed to continue for half a year or even a full year, at least until Liaodong's fields were reclaimed and replanted and produced harvests. After the ravages of war, it was uncertain how many people remained in Liaodong, but even if only two hundred thousand survived, supporting them for a year or so would be no small burden on the court's transport and supply system.

Therefore, Liu Yang had no choice but to be meticulous in his calculations. By the twenty-seventh day of the eighth month, the refugees and displaced persons gathered in Liaoyang and Shenzhou had exceeded forty thousand. That many extra mouths to feed out of nowhere—and this was not the end; in the mountains and wilderness, there were still large numbers of people in need of relief.

Yelu Xiezhen had previously squeezed Liaodong too hard in preparation for war—literally scraping the ground three feet deep, draining the pond to catch all the fish. The consequences naturally fell on the Great Han to bear, and bear them it must. Perhaps this was also one of Yelu Xiezhen's defensive strategies: even if he lost Liaodong, it would be a ruin, and causing the Han army any bit of trouble, any obstacle, might count as strengthening the Liao defense.

Thus, in late August, Liaoyang showed a stark contrast between inside and out: within the city walls, order prevailed; outside, wails filled the air. Along both banks of the Dongliang River, large numbers of crude thatched huts and wooden shacks had been erected—these were the shelters of the starving people. It was a chaotic scene; though crowded with people, there was little vitality.

A starving person taking a bowl of steaming porridge from the hands of a soldier or official distributing relief, holding it with both hands, a look of joy and gratitude emerging on a haggard face—that was basically impossible.

Looking out, there was only oppression and silence. Of course, whenever the porridge was distributed, some ripples would still stir......