Chapter 1607: The Mound of Skulls

By the banks of the Black Water, a cold wind rustled, waves rumbled ceaselessly, and with autumn deepening, a chill had gradually settled over heaven and earth. Yet colder still than the temperature was the slaughter unfolding on the riverbank.

The air was already thick with the stench of blood—pungent, acrid, nauseating. But to the battle-hardened soldiers of the Han army, such a scene was hardly anything worth noting.

A makeshift camp had been hastily erected on the mudflats, its wooden palisade stakes serving as a symbolic partition. The prisoners taken in the Battle of Fuyuan were confined within, though their number had already dwindled to fewer than three thousand.

Under Tian Qincuo's orders, these captives were strung together with ropes in groups of one hundred. These wild, untamable, fierce and intractable Jurchen of the Eastern Sea were now nothing more than pigs and sheep awaiting the butcher's knife.

Killing prisoners brings ill fortune—of that Tian Qincuo had not the slightest notion, nor did he care. He did not single out any particular person; he simply killed them group by group, at random, on a whim. Clearly, beyond cowing others into submission and establishing his authority, there was also an element of venting his frustrations.

Though the Battle of Fuyuan had ended in complete victory, a great rout of the Eastern Sea Jurchen, Tian Qincuo's mood had never improved. Even with the consolation offered by his subordinate officers, he could not let it go. A pent-up resentment had been festering in his heart for some days, and now it finally erupted.

Yesterday, upon seeing the scene of Fuyuan City recovering after the battle, his heart hardened. He mustered his troops and hauled every last prisoner from the prisoner-of-war camp to the banks of the Black Water.

This was hardly the first time Tian Qincuo had done such a thing. Back in Annam, he had been crazed and cruel, utterly inhumane. Even during the unification wars, he had killed many. If he treated his own countrymen thus, how much less mercy could foreigners expect?

Now, he was merely returning to old habits—and as it turned out, he was still highly skilled at it, without a shred of psychological burden.

Moreover, Tian Qincuo had added a twist. Before each group of prisoners, he had erected an archery target. From fifty paces away, he wagered with several Han army officers on their marksmanship.

The stakes were modest—only one string of cash. Whoever missed the bullseye paid one string; those who hit it split the pot. Of course, the fate of these Eastern Sea Jurchen was also part of the wager.

If every man hit the bullseye, that group of prisoners would be spared. But if even one man missed—well, sorry, but they would stretch their necks for the blade.

These Han army officers were quite skilled with the bow. Of thirty targets, after one round, only five had not been hit by every archer—which also meant that five hundred prisoners had been executed.

Unlike the bloody melee of the battlefield, this kind of killing was far easier for the Han soldiers tasked with the executions. No sweeping strokes or brandished sabers were needed—they simply stabbed the Jurchen, who had been marched to the water's edge, one knife thrust after another, clean and efficient, without any hesitation. Such a scene was even more hair-raising. Even those officers seasoned by years of battlefield slaughter could not help but feel a chill in their hearts.

"Patrol Inspector, is that enough?" The officer in charge of the executions found Tian Qincuo and asked.

At this, Tian Qincuo's thick brows furrowed slightly, as if he were still unsatisfied. He looked at the Jurchen prisoners nearby, apparently feeling there were still too many. He pursed his lips and smiled at the several officers who had taken part in the shooting: "I wonder whether your archery is simply too good, or whether you're all too soft-hearted..."

At these words, the officers' expressions varied. Clearly, not all of them approved of slaughtering prisoners this way. After all, they were professional soldiers of the Great Han, and killing captives did not sit well with their values.

But military orders were as immovable as mountains—no one dared defy Tian Qincuo's commands. Of course, even if something went wrong, Tian Qincuo would bear the responsibility; it had nothing to do with them. All they could do was try their best to lessen their own sense of guilt.

One of the officers forced a smile and said, "Patrol Inspector, our archery can hardly be called precise—we merely exceeded ourselves this time. I cannot speak for my comrades, but I for one simply cannot bear to part with my pay. Thirty targets—if I missed, that would be thirty strings of cash..."

"You rascal, you always know how to find an excuse!" Tian Qincuo was amused by his words and let out two hearty laughs. But the moment the laughter faded, his expression turned cold again. With a wave of his hand: "Forget the previous round—let's do another!"

As he spoke, Tian Qincuo raised his bow, aimed at one of the targets, and barely took aim before—"Whoosh!"—the arrow flew out in haste. The result was naturally predetermined: it missed by a mile, even sailing clear past the target to strike dead a Jurchen standing behind it.

Tian Qincuo showed no annoyance on his face. He shook his head and clicked his tongue in lament: "Ah, so this one string of cash of mine is lost just like that..."

Then, turning his head, he instructed the adjutant beside him: "Make a note of it—I lost one string on this shot!"

"Your turn!"

Seeing this, the officers were all stunned, exchanging glances. But catching sight of the Patrol Inspector's still-unsatisfied expression, they understood: this was entirely Tian Qincuo acting on his mood. He wanted to kill these people and was merely finding an excuse. The life and death of these Jurchen rested wholly on his whim.

Whether it was because the previous round had drained too much energy and strength, or because their hearts were now unsettled, or perhaps to curry favor with Tian Qincuo—in this new round, on the first target, only one man hit the bullseye, and he alone took the four strings of cash.

Tian Qincuo clearly cared nothing about that. He waved his hand, and soldiers immediately stepped forward to drag out that group of prisoners, driving them toward the riverbank. After the previous round of slaughter, these Jurchen were already restless and agitated. Someone immediately resisted, and so within the short distance of a hundred paces, half of them were killed en route before even reaching the execution ground.

Tian Qincuo seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. He raised his bow, ready to continue—but was interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. Everyone looked up to see a troop of riders galloping along the riverbank from afar, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. It was Ma Huaiyu, Commandery Duke of Fufeng.

Ma Huaiyu was still young—only twenty-six years old. In seniority and achievement, he could hardly compare with Tian Qincuo. But the man had a good father, was a son-in-law of Emperor Liu, and was a trusted confidant of the Crown Prince. Even someone as arrogant as Tian Qincuo had to show him some respect. As for the others, they felt even more diminished by comparison.

Seeing Ma Huaiyu galloping toward him, Tian Qincuo's brow furrowed slightly. He did not pause his movements, continuing to take aim. His casual gaze sharpened, murderous intent radiating. This arrow carried tremendous force, striking the bullseye dead center without the slightest deviation.

As Ma Huaiyu drew near, the thick stench of blood hit his nostrils, and the gruesome scene on the mudflats was a sight to behold. There, some Han soldiers were still going around delivering finishing blows, ensuring no one escaped.

His young and handsome face immediately darkened. He rode forward, dismounted in a single leap, and hurried to Tian Qincuo, demanding urgently: "Patrol Inspector, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Didn't Commandery Duke Ma see for himself?" Tian Qincuo said carelessly, grinning. "What, are you interested in playing this game too?"

"Game?" Ma Huaiyu was taken aback. Seeing this, an officer immediately stepped forward, attentively and carefully explaining the rules of the game Tian Qincuo had devised.

Upon hearing this, Ma Huaiyu looked at Tian Qincuo with a complex expression. He held his tongue for a moment before speaking gravely: "Patrol Inspector, killing prisoners brings ill fortune!"

"A proper general, a man of iron—and you spout such milksop nonsense!" Tian Qincuo stared straight back at Ma Huaiyu, sneering.

Taking a deep breath, Ma Huaiyu said: "Patrol Inspector, these men are already prisoners. What good does killing them do? If you are doing this to vent personal grievances, committing such heaven-defying atrocities, it is truly unwise!"

Though he was willing to give Ma Huaiyu face, he could not tolerate this whelp passing such judgments on him. Tian Qincuo dropped all pretense of courtesy, staring coldly at Ma Huaiyu: "Ma Huaiyu, your noble rank may be higher than mine, but your military position is below mine. Here in the army, you dare to speak to your superior officer this way? You don't even salute when you see me, and you directly rebuke me—are you presuming on your status, thinking my military law cannot touch you?"

Chastened by this tirade, Ma Huaiyu came to his senses, realizing he had been out of line. Under Tian Qincuo's piercing gaze, he took a deep breath and bowed, first offering a military salute.

Seeing this, Tian Qincuo continued contemptuously: "Let me tell you what I am doing! I am fulfilling a promise I made earlier. These barbarians—for every Han soldier or Han citizen they kill, I will exact tenfold vengeance. This time, Fuyuan suffered disaster; soldiers and civilians together, over three hundred died. If I do not kill every last one of them, I would be breaking my word. What harm is there in killing a thousand of them?"

Hearing Tian Qincuo's reasoning, Ma Huaiyu was momentarily stunned, then pointed at the remaining Jurchen prisoners and said: "Patrol Inspector, acting this way will only ignite hatred in these prisoners, deepening the enmity and conflict between Han and barbarian until it can never be resolved.

They are here right now, watching their kinsmen being slaughtered before their very eyes. What will the survivors think? Our soldiers fight on the battlefield, using war to end war—that is beyond reproach. But since they have already surrendered, why needlessly harm them?

The Governor-General's office has also issued directives that barbarians should be dealt with through both suppression and pacification, and that captured barbarian tribesmen should be handed over to the Governor-General's office for unified management. Rather than slaughtering them, why not have them build roads and bridges for Andong..."

"Heh, are you trying to use the Governor-General's office to pressure me?" No matter how sincere Ma Huaiyu's tone, Tian Qincuo would not be swayed—instead, he questioned the young man's motives.

"I have no such intention, merely offering counsel..."

Tian Qincuo sneered coldly: "I have been campaigning against barbarian bandits and exterminating foreign marauders for nearly twenty years. I understand these savages better than you do. Against them, nothing is more effective than a steel blade.

Pacification? How long must we pacify? Will pacification make these mixed barbarians, accustomed to hard living in the mountains, stop raiding our towns and killing our people?

Naive!

Let me tell you—only slaughter and death can teach these barbarians fear, can make them know dread. First comes fear, then comes submission. I am a Patrol Inspector General; my duty is to fight and kill. Pacifying barbarians? That is not my job. Let the Governor-General's office worry about that!"

After venting his spleen, Tian Qincuo looked Ma Huaiyu up and down twice, and said in a questioning tone: "You grew up by His Majesty's side, did you not? How is it that you have learned none of His Majesty's boldness and courage?

Why did His Majesty send me to Andong? You may not know, but I, Tian, know perfectly well. I would advise Commandery Duke Ma—read fewer military manuals and open your eyes to see the true state of Andong's mountains and rivers..."

Stung by Tian Qincuo's mockery, Ma Huaiyu felt aggrieved but could hardly argue further. He had only invoked the Governor-General's office, but Tian Qincuo had directly brought out the mountain that was Emperor Liu—there was simply no comparison.

"However!" A dangerous glint flashed in Tian Qincuo's eyes. "You have reminded me of something. These prisoners have witnessed their kinsmen being killed—they must be seething with anger and hatred. Even if sold to merchants or farmers, they would be far too dangerous. They cannot be kept!"

With that, he turned and instructed the military orders officer: "Transmit the order—kill all these Jurchen. Cut off their heads, mound the bodies with earth into a burial mound, and erect it right here on the banks of the Black Water..."