Chapter 1345: Three Lingering Echoes

Entering the latter part of the tenth month, the Han and Liao sides had already reached a de facto ceasefire, and all fronts fell silent before the depths of winter arrived. This war, which had spanned nearly the entire eighth year of Kaibao, was temporarily brought to a close.

The Liao army had suffered a thorough military defeat, losing troops and territory, while the realm itself had fallen into irremediable turmoil, nearly on the verge of collapse, with no strength left to fight on. For the Liao emperor, the most pressing matter was how to clean up the domestic mess and maintain Khitan dominance over the steppe—and with the slightest misstep, the once-glorious Great Liao Empire would also crumble apart.

As for the pain and humiliation of defeat, they could only be silently endured. As Han Derang put it, bear humiliation and carry the burden, grind forward, and hope for the future. Only, the future Han Derang depicted was growing ever more illusory.

On the Great Han's side, after this protracted war that had consumed enormous mobilization and resources, it too was somewhat exhausted. Even with remaining strength, it could hardly sustain the massive costs of continued warfare—unless it ignored the real contradictions and difficulties and kept squeezing the common people to force the war on.

Fortunately, Emperor Liu was still willing to listen to counsel. From the Crown Prince, to the generals and ministers, their overt or veiled remonstrances were adopted, and only then did he decide to sheathe the blade and rest the troops.

Large-scale withdrawal of troops and return of civilians had already gotten underway in full swing—one in Shanyang, one in Liaodong. Especially in Liaodong, where at its peak the military strength had approached four hundred thousand men, which was even more than the population gained from taking Liaodong.

In the twenty-odd days after winter began, under the arrangements of Crown Prince Liu Yang and the civil and military officials Zhao, Gao, Cao, and Han, more than two hundred thousand troops and civilians had already been withdrawn from Liaodong, along with large quantities of military equipment and supplies. For this purpose, the field headquarters had requisitioned over four hundred large and small official and merchant seagoing vessels for transport.

Initially, Crown Prince Liu Yang's recommendation had been to leave one hundred thousand troops to garrison Liaodong. By mid-October, he submitted another memorial, continuing to reduce the garrison strength—sixty thousand infantry and cavalry would suffice—and Emperor Liu agreed.

The cost of supporting four hundred thousand men versus one hundred thousand was like heaven and earth; and between one hundred thousand troops and sixty thousand, the supply burden differed enormously as well. Cutting forty thousand men naturally lightened the court's burden considerably.

As for Emperor Liu, after staying in Shanyang for a dozen or so days, he also decided to set out on the return journey to Youzhou. Before that, under the direction of Li Wanchao and Kang Yanze, the Han army in Shanyang had been gradually withdrawing southward. By now, the Han troops still lingering north of the Great Wall numbered fewer than thirty thousand. Of these thirty thousand, apart from three thousand palace guards, the rest were garrison soldiers prepared to hold the northern frontier.

Of course, the cessation of hostilities was the overall situation, but in local areas, military operations had not fully ended—they were still ongoing. From west to east, they were divided into three theaters.

The first was the Western Regions theater. As a supplementary part of this Han-Liao war, the Western Regions had seen dramatic shifts over the past half year and more. Since Guo Jin led his army westward and took full control of the Yizhou and Gaochang lands, the Western Regions had formed a three-way struggle for hegemony, and it had remained deadlocked to this day.

Several thousand remnants of the Liao army, under the command of Yelu Dilie and Yelu Sha, had retreated to hold the Luntai and Beiting region north of the Tianshan Mountains, trapped in a corner. Though they were like dry bones in a tomb, they still struggled on bitterly.

Guo Jin, relying mainly on the Hexi infantry and cavalry, supplemented by Uyghur auxiliaries, and with logistical support from Hexi Administration Commissioner Lu Duoxun, firmly controlled the Yi-Gao region. He had once wanted to march north to eliminate the Liao remnants, but was constrained by the eastward-advancing Kara-Khanid army and could not launch.

Although the Kara-Khanid army had advanced east and finally taken the ancient cities of Yanqi and Qiuci, they had presumably bled too much in their past struggle with Liao over the Western Regions, and this time they were far more cautious.

Each of the three sides had its own weaknesses, and so the deadlock had persisted to this day. There had been small-scale probing skirmishes, but a large-scale decisive battle had never erupted—all sides held back.

Of course, there was also an onlooker: the kingdom of Khotan in the southern Western Regions. They dared not involve themselves in the war among the three sides. Though pressured by the aggressiveness of the Kara-Khanid dynasty, and given their years of friendship with the Great Han and their historical closeness, Khotan leaned emotionally toward the Great Han—but the Great Han also did not seem like an easy opponent. Therefore, they sat on the wall and watched.

Of course, the Western Regions maintained its current situation only because it was not the focus of the Great Han court. All Guo Jin could rely on was the broken half of the Western Regions and partial support from Hexi, and with that he held the situation together.

And it was easy to imagine that the day the Great Han's resources tilted westward, the seemingly balanced deadlock would be easily broken—it was only a matter of when Emperor Liu's gaze would turn to the Western Regions.

Apart from the low-intensity war in the Western Regions, what Emperor Liu watched most closely was, of course, the army that had struck north toward the Supreme Capital. The number of troops sent was not large—even with the Xi cavalry conscripted along the way, it was only twenty thousand. The general commanding the sortie was Dong Zunhui.

But if it truly could succeed as Emperor Liu hoped and breach the Supreme Capital, that would be an unexpected delight—another heavy blow to Liao, and the result might render the so-called Great Liao dynasty completely unworthy of its name, knocking it back from imperial rule to its original form.

Additionally, even less worth mentioning was the Eastern Sea Fleet's raids on Goryeo. Over the past month and more, Guo Tingwei had launched seven landing operations against Goryeo's western coast, reaping considerable gains and causing the officials and people of Goryeo's coastal cities to suffer endless harassment.

However, as winter deepened, the fleet's operations would also draw to a close, unable to continue. Of course, Emperor Liu had already approved Guo Tingwei's memorial to establish a naval base on Jeju Island. It was easy to foresee that in the future, Goryeo would long remain under the Great Han's shadow.

Inside the main hall of the Yunzhong Prefecture, a civil official and a military officer sat together—Hedong Administration Commissioner Shi Xizai and the Marquis of Jiuyuan, Li Wanchao. The two were conversing with spring-like smiles on their faces. Previously, the two had naturally had plenty of dealings in Hedong.

Li Wanchao was an old minister and old general, a founding marquis with deep seniority in the military. With this latest achievement in Shanyang, his position would become even more secure. Shi Xizai, meanwhile, was a minister who had come out from the Emperor's side, a regional magnate governing the Hedong Circuit. With two years of tempering in his Hedong post, his entire bearing had undergone a great transformation—compared to his former refined and easygoing manner, there was now a hint more authority and prestige about him.

Guided by a palace eunuch, the general Tian Renlang, who had performed brilliantly in the battles of Yanzi City and Shanyang, walked in, his bearing thoroughly respectful. For Tian Renlang, who had spent his years fighting in the frontier armies, being specially summoned for an audience with the Emperor was a first.

This gesture clearly meant something. Tian Renlang felt both gratitude and excitement, along with anticipation, and also a measure of unease. Unlike more than a decade ago, when men in their twenties or even under twenty could strive with arms, win fame through merit, and—so long as they accomplished something—be promoted to high-ranking generals and granted titles and honors.

In the Great Han's current military-political system, it was increasingly difficult to climb upward. And Tian Renlang was already at the age of forty. Had it not been for this opportunity in the northern campaign to establish merit, he might have remained just one of the countless mid- and low-ranking officers of the Great Han, with limited prospects ahead.

Fortunately, he had seized the opportunity and grasped his chance in the final great battle. Otherwise, he would have been like most of the northern campaign generals—earning some credit for hardship, adding some seniority, surviving the war, and receiving some money and grain as reward, nothing more.

As Tian Renlang entered, the two men in conversation immediately turned their attention to him. Tian Renlang hurried forward and, with the rites of a junior, paid his respects to Li Wanchao.

"General Tian, no need for ceremony!" Though he was not familiar with him, Li Wanchao still regarded him with appreciative eyes—one of the "Two Tians" whose names had spread through the three armies because of the Kaibao northern campaign—and responded with a warm expression.

"This is Hedong Administration Commissioner, Governor Shi!" Seeing that Tian Renlang apparently did not know Shi Xizai, Li Wanchao took the initiative to introduce him.

Upon hearing this, Tian Renlang hurriedly bowed again and said, "Greetings, Governor!"

In the Great Han of today, any Administration Commissioner of a circuit had already made his status evident within the military-political system. Advancing, one could become the head of a ministry or bureau, or even a chancellor. Such prospects were far grander than those of generals like themselves.

Of course, as a general, it was easier to earn nobility through military merit and become a member of the military aristocracy—something civil officials could hardly match. After all these years, civil officials who received noble titles were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, and many of those had gained their nobility through founding contributions.

"General Tian, no need for such courtesy!" Shi Xizai's response was equally modest. He rose and said, "Your reputation this time has resounded across the northern frontier. Even I in Jinyang have heard of it. The Great Han has gained another rising star among its generals!"

"The Governor flatters me!" Tian Renlang was somewhat surprised, but he did not reveal any arrogance and responded humbly: "This general is merely a man of brute courage. I dare not accept such praise."

"General, no need to be so modest! With this one battle, the name of the Two Tians has already spread far and wide. With such an open and humble mind, your future is promising indeed!" Shi Xizai said.

Shi Xizai could naturally see that the Emperor had the intention of promoting Tian Renlang, so he did not begrudge a few kind words.