Chapter 1724: Bloody Yulin

Whether it was Li Jiqian or Yuan Ke, both could barely be called "rebel chieftains," both possessing the temperament that contemporaries would call heroes—when not pushed to the brink, they would always choose to struggle a bit more.

However, Liu Yang could sit by and watch the chaos in Yulin, abandoning control over nearly all areas except the towns, but he would never allow the rebels to act freely. He defended towns against attacking rebel forces with strict vigilance, and struck with focused force against bandit troops raiding supply lines.

Rebels like Li and Yuan, who were already marked on the registers at court and even with Emperor Liu, were also key targets for Liu Fang. Holding still was merely a matter of strategy, a tactical silence—it did not mean being set in stone or tying one's own hands.

Therefore, when the two rebels Li and Yuan struck out in succession, the Han army moved in response. For Li Jiqian's route, Meng Xuanzhe served as the main commander, with Commandery Duke of Dai Zhe Yuqing, Warmo cavalry general Pan Luozhi, and others as deputies, leading fifteen thousand infantry and cavalry northward to seek out and strike Li Jiqian.

There is no need to say more about Meng Xuanzhe and Pan Luozhi—Zhe Yuqing's identity was clearly more special. He was Liu Fang's maternal cousin's son—his cousin-uncle—now twenty-six years old, and the current head of the Zhe clan.

Among the many meritorious nobles of the Great Han, there were the Twenty-Four Dukes, and after three generations, the succession diminished. The Duke of Dai title began with Zhe Congruan, passed first to Zhe Deyi, then to Zhe Yuxun. When Zhe Yuxun died young in his prime, and because he had no sons, by the gracious decree of Emperor Liu, the young Zhe Yuqing inherited his elder brother's title.

In fact, if one considered purely bloodline succession according to the Great Han's noble inheritance system, since Zhe Yuxun left no heirs, reclaiming the Duke of Dai title would have been justifiable. However, there are always exceptions—not to mention the Zhe family's influence in military circles, just for the sake of Worthy Consort Zhe's standing, Emperor Liu had to make an exception.

However, by the time of Zhe Yuqing, the Duke of Dai title could no longer be maintained at the same rank; it was reduced one grade in hereditary succession and changed to Commandery Duke of Dai. Beyond its exceptional nature, it also carried another significance—it became the beginning of the Great Han's highest-ranking nobles inheriting titles with reduced rank.

After all, among the Twenty-Four Meritorious Ministers, except for families like Wang Zhang's and Wang Jun's where there was no one to pass on to, most other families still had their first or second generation members alive. The Zhe family had simply moved through generations a bit quickly.

Of course, Zhe Yuqing was not valued solely for his status. Though young, his military talents were outstanding. He had previously served as Chief Commander of the Taiyuan garrison, and in this Yulin pacification campaign, he was also among those called to command troops.

For Yuan Ke's route, Tian Zhongjin served as the main commander, leading more than thirty thousand imperial troops, primarily from the imperial army, westward, supplemented by local forces from Ling and Yan, to converge on Yuan Ke's rebel army. The goal was not merely to stop Yuan Ke from crossing the Yellow River and slipping into Hexi, but to completely annihilate him within Lingzhou's borders.

A military operation of this scale could be said to be the first time the imperial army truly exerted its strength since the Yulin unrest began, mobilizing tens of thousands at a stroke. Of course, this was also the result of Liu Fang's months of preparation—when it moved, it struck like thunder.

This was all on the basis of maintaining the "great martial law" in Yulin, town defenses, and logistical support. Why did a mere Yulin rebellion require mobilizing over a hundred thousand troops to suppress? It was to ensure complete control—no matter how you stirred things up, the situation remained firmly in the imperial army's grasp.

Launching troops in deep winter was certainly not a good season, but the harsh weather affected both sides equally. Even though the rebels were fighting on "home ground," their days were truly difficult—otherwise they wouldn't have been rushing to fight like cornered beasts. It was all the imperial army's pressure that forced them.

In comparison, aside from contending with the bitter cold, the imperial army had fully guaranteed food and clothing. With ample food and clothing, military morale remained stable; killing rebels brought military merit, and casualties received compensation—this was the crushing weight of absolute superiority.

Li Jiqian's northward march also harbored cunning intentions—to draw out the imperial army, find an opportunity to annihilate a portion, win a victory, collect spoils, and buy space for the coming spring's operations.

Judging from the results, he achieved part of his goal—the imperial army did indeed move out. But under Meng Xuanzhe's command, it emphasized caution above all. There were no flashy tactics like divided advances and converging attacks; instead, they concentrated their forces and followed the enemy's tracks.

Scouts and outriders were spread wide, the army was fully mule-and-horse mobile, supplies were abundant, ready to fight at any moment, always maintaining combat effectiveness, and never rashly advancing. When encountering rebel ambushes or harassment, they resolutely counterattacked but did not hastily disperse their formation or seek to expand their gains.

The two armies tangled all the way north, battling across deserts, gobi, and fierce winds in frozen lands. But no matter what schemes Li Jiqian devised or what tactics he employed—whether harassment to slow them down or feigned retreats—the imperial army remained unmoved as a mountain.

In the end, Li Jiqian was forced into a corner with no other options. He had to offer some substantial bait—leading his troops north, crossing the already frozen Yellow River, to attack Fengzhou.

Fengzhou, as the northernmost jurisdiction of the Yulin Circuit, had been like an outsider throughout the year-plus of Yulin unrest, never suffering major impact, because Li Jiqian's active rebellion zone had always been in the relatively prosperous southern Tangut-populated areas.

It was not until this year's autumn and winter, when the Yulin rebellion erupted in full force, that under the court's overall pacification strategy, the local imperial forces in Fengzhou truly went on alert. Fengzhou had few people and few troops, but it possessed the most basic characteristic of Great Han border towns—it was solid and reliable.

When the rebels came, they were in no hurry either. They simply strengthened their defenses, cleared the fields, and held the city. After the rebels scoured the Fengzhou countryside without much gain, they pressed toward the prefectural seat and quickly launched an assault.

The rebel force Li Jiqian led numbered over thirty thousand, almost entirely Tangut. Even if they simply piled up lives, Fengzhou might not hold out long. However, when Fengzhou's plea for reinforcement reached the northward-advancing Han army camp, Meng Xuanzhe still did not move rashly.

Because the formation Li Jiqian had set up at Fengzhou was all too familiar to him. The defeat at Zhen'an Fort a few months earlier was still fresh in his memory. The tactic of besieging a point to strike at reinforcements was hardly unfamiliar to the Han army either.

However, the key to why this tactic never failed was attacking where the enemy must rescue. Since the Yulin rebellion began, the rebels had been rampant, but they had never captured a single city in all of Yulin.

Even though Fengzhou was merely a small border town, if it fell, the political cost behind it was not something Meng Xuanzhe could bear. Therefore, with Fengzhou in danger and urgent pleas for help arriving, he still had to extend a hand—he could not sit by and watch Li Jiqian breach Fengzhou without reacting.

Li Jiqian, precisely as expected, harbored the intention of besieging the point to strike at reinforcements—Fengzhou was merely bait. However, Meng Xuanzhe's steadiness ultimately disappointed him. The Han army made moves to rescue, but without haste—still advancing steadily, cautiously and deliberately.

Under Li Jiqian's command, the rebels' ambush did not achieve its intended effect—or rather, they were waiting for the rebels to make their move. The entanglement between the two sides finally reached a conclusion along the banks of the Yellow River.

In terms of hard power, even though the rebels outnumbered the imperial army twofold, they were still more than a notch weaker. The Tangut were fierce, but in organization and training, they were far inferior to the imperial army.

The earlier endless entanglement was certainly due to Meng Xuanzhe's conservatism and caution, but the rebels were equally careful, unwilling to gamble on a clean decisive battle. Of course, what ultimately decided the battle was not the two sides fighting. Li Jiqian had set a trap at Fengzhou but overlooked the principle of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

The fatal threat came from behind—and of course it was not Fengzhou. Imperial Son-in-law and Chief Commander of Shanyang, Li Jilong, led five thousand Shanyang iron cavalry, descending like divine soldiers from heaven, striking the rebels hard. Combined with Meng Xuanzhe, they completely routed Li Jiqian's rebel army.

Over thirty thousand rebels were wiped out in a single day. Li Jiqian fled in utter disgrace, vanishing without a trace. The imperial army captured only a thousand or so prisoners; under the relentless pursuit, fewer than a thousand escaped. As for how such results were achieved, observers understood well enough.

Therefore, before the twenty-first year of Kaibao had even ended, the main strength of the Xiazhou Tangut rebellion had already been destroyed. Though the rebel chieftain Li Jiqian was still on the run, did the court truly care about such a man?

Without the support of Tangut rebel masses, Li Jiqian was, in the end, nothing more than a wandering bandit. And given the current situation in Yulin, for Li Jiqian to rise again and again as he had over the past year-plus would be even more difficult than before.

Li Jiqian's defeat sent his fortunes plummeting. Yuan Ke, advancing west into Lingzhou, was a fellow sufferer. He faced the court's elite forces including the imperial army, a seasoned battlefield veteran like Tian Zhongjin, and was fully exposed to the Han army's view.

Unlike the prolonged entanglement of pacifying Xiazhou, the campaign against Yuan Ke's rebels was a complete encirclement and annihilation. Before Yuan Ke's rebels had even left Yanzhou, they were already caught by Tian Zhongjin's army. Three consecutive battles, three consecutive defeats. By the time Yuan Ke's rebels fled into Lingzhou's borders, their ranks had already collapsed, and their situation grew even more dire. Coordinating with the Lingzhou imperial forces, they were completely trapped—no road to heaven, no door to earth—until they were slaughtered to the last.

The turncoat rebel general Wang Shen exposed all of Yuan Ke's subordinate rebel commanders—every single one was either killed on the battlefield or captured and beheaded.

Even Yuan Ke himself, the great leader of the Yanzhou rebellion, could not escape a miserable end. He seemed not to have inherited Li Jiqian's talent for escape, and was trampled into pulp on the battlefield.

A man like Yuan Ke could manage being a Song Jiang, but truly putting him in command of troops, facing the court head-on in open battle—he simply lacked the capability. In the end, he was merely an ambitious man who failed to recognize himself and harbored unrealistic aspirations. He rode the tide to rise—flourishing swiftly, perishing swiftly. He even fell earlier than Li Jiqian.

In fact, after entering the twenty-second year of Kaibao, no large-scale rebel forces remained anywhere in Yulin. The rapid defeat of the two rebels Yuan and Li essentially announced the final outcome of this great Yulin rebellion.

However, after the two decisive victories, Yulin did not settle down. It was not that the rebellious Tangut refused to compromise—it was that the court's blockade continued.

After spring arrived, the imperial army struck out again, unshackled, attacking and killing bandits suspected of being rebels. Within Yulin's borders, who had joined the rebels and who had not had long been determined. Of course, in this matter, aside from a portion of the imperial army, those who played the role of the butcher's blade were the various attached barbarian tribes.

With the field headquarters' indulgence and even encouragement, whether for survival or wealth, these barbarian retainers unhesitatingly raised their blades against those "rebel bandits," slaughtering wantonly and presenting severed heads to the court for rewards.

All of Yulin, at the beginning of the twenty-second year of Kaibao, gradually became an arena. All those rejected by the authorities were forced to transform into beasts, gnawing at each other, slaughtering each other, until their blood ran dry and their people were all dead.