Chapter 2102: Taizong Chronicles 44: The World Under the Great Han's Shadow (Part 2)

The Great Han Empire's war against Zhenla, which took place in the winter-spring transition of the fifth and sixth years of Yongxi, unequivocally proclaimed the great transformation of the Indochinese Peninsula.

This war ended in a disastrous defeat for Zhenla—loss of troops and territory, humiliating peace overtures. The former foremost power of the peninsula sank into decline, losing vast swaths of territory on both its northern and southern fronts, suffering grievous losses, and being nearly reduced from a coastal state to an inland one. At the same time, a severe governance crisis erupted internally—central authority collapsed, regional strongmen rose, tribal rebellions broke out, and separatism flourished...

The ruling class of Zhenla possessed a certain continuity, and its rule was not so fragile. Just like the successive raids and rebellions that rose and fell across the Southern Golden Continent and the island of Java, if the imperial court wished to completely conquer Zhenla, without resorting to mass slaughter and implementing "population policies," it would be extremely difficult to achieve results in a short time.

However, if viewed merely from the angle of "throwing the state into chaos," for the Great Han—especially given that its gates had already been breached—there was little pressure involved.

This peninsula war did not last long in duration, but the scale of mobilized forces was by no means small. Setting aside the initial "self-defense counterattack," in the subsequent months of expeditionary operations, pressed by military circumstances and to ensure supply lines, an additional thirty thousand laborers were dispatched in the later phase. All told, to pacify the "Zhenla disturbance," the imperial court conscripted a total of one hundred twenty thousand soldiers and civilians.

A war of this scale would be no small battle anywhere, let alone on the Indochinese Peninsula. The enormous expenditure of money and grain can well be imagined. As for casualties, they were also considerable—over seven thousand men, more than half being non-combat losses. Meanwhile, more than two thousand Han army soldiers now lie in eternal rest amid the peninsula's highlands and dense forests...

To be sure, Zhenla's losses were far more severe—several times to ten times those of the Han army—and the Han army had also seized a sixth of Zhenla's territory centered on Wendant. But this transaction, however calculated at the Great Han court, was a loss.

Therefore, in the fourth month of summer in the sixth year of Yongxi, when the Zhenla envoy, after arduous travel, arrived at the Western Capital Luoyang bearing the letter of surrender from Zhenla's king, Jayavarman V, Emperor Liu Yang approved his request with almost no complicated or heated debate.

As for the terms—acknowledging vassalage and paying tribute were mandatory, ceding territory and paying indemnities were also indispensable. At the same time, Zhenla was required to throw open its gates to allow Great Han merchants to come and trade, and to assist in suppressing and exterminating those resistance forces from the Annam and Yunnan Circuits who had taken refuge within Zhenla's borders. To be fair, the court's terms could be considered lenient and benevolent.

What Zhenla did not know was that in truth, they only needed to hold out a little longer and the situation would have improved, because the high echelons of the Great Han Empire had reached a consensus to demobilize the troops and end the dispute with Zhenla.

There were many reasons, chiefly two. First, the war with Zhenla was simply a losing proposition—continuing it held little benefit for the court, only draining national strength. After Zhenla's defeat and submission, there was no need to waste more money, grain, and troops.

Second, since entering the Yongxi era, sheathing arms and cultivating culture, resting and recuperating, had been the court's most important policy guideline. Unless necessary, the court would not lightly initiate hostilities.

Of course, situations like the Jiannan rebellion or the Zhenla invasion had to be resolutely suppressed and countered—but the question of to what extent was something the court's ministers had a psychological bottom line about.

To be fair, although Crown Prince Liu Wenhuan's army's counteroffensive into Zhenla's territory greatly boosted morale and displayed the martial might of the Central Kingdom, it was not particularly endorsed by the Great Han's upper echelons.

Even Emperor Liu Yang, though he subsequently ordered the relevant departments to fully guarantee the army's logistics, still gave it the assessment of "reckless."

As for reasons that were inconvenient to state openly—matters like the court dispatching troops, spending money, and expending effort to secure benefits for the vassal states were best kept to a minimum. The court enfeoffed vassal states to reduce the costs and consumption of expansion and colonization—this had been a consensus formed within the court since the late Kaibao era.

It was just that when Emperor Shizu was alive, he could openly accept the ministers' suggestions and state his position clearly. But the Yongxi Emperor, when it came to the vassal kings, had to be somewhat mindful of appearances and considerate of "brotherly bonds." Therefore, some things could be done but needed to be spoken of sparingly.

And in this entire war, there were of course those who profited—and the greatest beneficiary, without question, was Liu Shu's Linyi State. Due to the powerful pressure of the imperial army on its northern front, Zhenla, even if it maintained some defenses in the south, had limited strength and naturally struggled to cope.

Linyi, meanwhile, had deployed its elite forces to the fullest, backed by substantial support from southern-migrating meritorious nobles and maritime merchants, and was led by Liu Wenyan and Liu Gong—the two most capable generals of Linyi.

The results were substantial. The two Lius not only achieved the established objective of "taking Hezhou," but exceeded their mission, pushing northward all the way to the confluence of the Tonlé Sap River and the Mekong River, where they built Bashan Fortress before halting, as a defensive measure.

And Bashan Fortress was no longer far from Zhenla's core ruling region—the Tonlé Sap plain. Compared to the tens of thousands of troops of the Great Han court in the north, the "backstab" from Linyi was clearly the more lethal threat.

Even though Liu Wenyan, constrained by factors such as troop strength, transportation, and logistics, did not advance hastily, he still led his army north into the Tonlé Sap region while Liu Wenhuan continued to apply pressure and take cities in the north. Though he did not deliberately pursue the capture of cities, he killed and wounded large numbers of Zhenla subjects, plundered endlessly, greatly disrupted Zhenla's social and productive order, and considerably slowed Zhenla's ability to counter and retaliate against Linyi.

After Liu Wenyan's havoc, Zhenla naturally suffered another bone-deep loss, while Linyi came to occupy nearly the entire Mekong Delta—including portions of towns and lands that Zhenla had already developed—which saved Linyi a certain amount of manpower, resources, and wealth in its subsequent development.

After all, no matter how excellent the soil and water, pioneering and cultivating new land is never an easy task—even water conservancy conditions alone could stymie a person. And from occupying the Mekong Delta onward, Linyi's true foundation for statehood on the peninsula began to be firmly laid. This fertile land was worthy of Great Han subjects putting down roots.

Like Linyi, there was also the Coastal State to the west. While Zhenla was being attacked from both north and south, Coastal King Liu Wenhai also dispatched an army that crossed the mountain barriers from the Thaton region, attacking Zhenla's southwestern gulf area (the Gulf of Thailand). Even if it only achieved nominal rule, this operation still expanded territory by several hundred li. Had Liu Wenhai's main focus not been on his campaign against Pagan to the north, Liu Wenhai would certainly have claimed a large share of this choice piece of meat that was Zhenla.

And over the past five or six years, the Indochinese Peninsula had in fact been anything but peaceful. Not only was Linyi devouring the legacy of Champa and constructing its vassal-state military-political system, but in the south, Prince Qi Liu Yun was also tightening his control over the Northern Golden Continent region. Through his recruitment efforts and with the court's support, several dozen more families of meritorious nobles and descendants of officials had rushed to the South Seas to seek their fortunes—Liu Yun's "New Qi State" was indeed everyone's first choice in the South Seas.

The most restless of all was clearly Liu Wenhai, who was vigorously campaigning against Pagan and the Thaton region. With the support of the court and the maritime powers of the South Seas, Liu Wenhai led his army and, in just one year, destroyed the Mon polity of Thaton in the southeastern region of "Burma."

Then, while recruiting Han manpower from both the home country and the South Seas region on one hand, and taming the local natives on the other, he simultaneously pushed northward and quickly came to blows with Pagan.

Over the past few years, the western part of the peninsula had basically revolved around the war between the Great Han Empire's Coastal State and the native Pagan State.

By the sixth year of Yongxi, Coastal King Liu Wenhai, having fully taken the former territories of Thaton, was contending with Pagan for the "Lower Burma" region. But unlike Linyi—where Liu Shu could still attend to commercial, agricultural, and fishery development with some tangible operational results—

the Coastal State side was entirely a military system. Liu Wenhai had completely established a militaristic state dominated by Han military-merit landowners. From the first to the sixth year of Yongxi, there was scarcely a month or year without warfare. He forcibly broke Pagan's upward trajectory, while Pagan had to desperately resist the aggression of the ferocious Han soldiers and civilians.

It was also in the fourth month of the sixth year of Yongxi that Liu Wenhai mustered an army of thirty thousand (personal guards + Han armed forces + auxiliary troops) and once again launched a summer offensive against Pagan.

This time, Pagan could not withstand the pincer attack from land and sea by the Coastal State. Thus, after resisting for over four full years, Pagan collapsed and retreated northward. Liu Wenhai finally took full possession of "Lower Burma," and Pagan was truly beaten into an "inland state."

At this point, Liu Wenhai finally halted his expansion and turned his attention to internal governance. Direct support from the court had long since ceased. Relying mainly on himself and the legacy of his late father, Liu Wenhai, after completing his initial expansion goals, had no choice but to stop and catch his breath.

In the eighth month of the sixth year of Yongxi, the Crown Prince and Duke of Ruyang, Liu Wenhuan, who had spent over half a year in Wendant, finally received the court's recall order. He withdrew with the last batch of the expeditionary force toward Annam, returning to court to present his victories.

Of course, before returning to court, Liu Wenhuan did some cleanup work. The Zhenla territories already taken could not possibly be returned. Liu Wenhuan and the Zhao clan faction insisted on incorporating them into the Great Han's territory—this was understandable. Otherwise, the merit of expanding the frontiers would be lost, and Liu Wenhuan would instead be caught in a vortex of accusations of "warmongering and exhausting the people." The Murong faction would certainly seize upon this matter relentlessly.

But directly incorporating these lands into the empire's administrative management would be too costly. Thus, after obtaining full discretionary authority from the court, Liu Wenhuan made arrangements for the newly opened northern Zhenla territories.

First, four prefectures—Wen, Wan, Meng, and Zhen—were nominally established, while a batch of officials was transferred from Annam, Yunnan, and Guangxi. Beneath this nominal framework, Liu Wenhuan, on behalf of the court, enfeoffed over thirty native chieftains across the four prefectures. Among these chieftains were surrendered Zhenla nobles and generals, as well as local indigenous tribal leaders.

These forces had naturally heard of the Great Han's native chieftain system—the neighboring Annam Circuit also had no shortage of native chieftains—so these new interest groups accepted it quickly.

Therefore, while Liu Wenhuan could not guarantee that the newly acquired Wen, Wan, Meng, and Zhen prefectures would be completely stabilized and become permanently consolidated territory of the Great Han, he could at least ensure they would not easily revert to Zhenla. And with the passage of time, they would inevitably walk the correct path of "Hanification"—for by now, on the Indochinese Peninsula and throughout the entire Southeast, Han influence was continuously deepening and strengthening.

As for Liu Wenhuan's cleanup arrangements, whether or not someone was guiding him behind the scenes, Emperor Liu Yang ultimately gave the assessment of "not bad." And with Liu Wenhuan's withdrawal and return to the country, the nearly year-long turmoil on the Indochinese Peninsula finally returned to stability.

Even if this stability was not entirely reliable, at the same time, an entirely new situation had formed across the peninsula and even all of Southeast Asia.

From a macro perspective, the few months of "peninsula war" had an important impact on the history of all Southeast Asia, even if the outcome did not include any "destruction of a state."

But what distinguished this from the "state-destroying" wars that had occurred in the South Seas region in previous years was that this time, the participants were not just the central power of the Great Han Empire, but also Great Han vassal states like Linyi and the Coastal State. Indeed, the new post-war order of Southeast Asia was shaped precisely through the efforts of these vassal states.

At this point, it seemed that the situation Emperor Shizu had once anticipated had truly emerged—the pioneering spirit of the Great Han should not derive solely from the personal preferences and support of the emperor, nor should the vassal states passively wait for the court's nurturing. They needed to be more proactive, more iron-blooded, and possess an intrinsic driving force for expansion and the dissemination of Great Han civilization.

Of course, whether such a situation was ultimately good or bad for the central empire remained to be tested by time.

But at least in the present moment of the sixth year of Yongxi, the situation across the entire East Asian region was that Chinese power, with the Great Han Empire at its core, had further deepened its influence and control over the mountains, rivers, seas, and islands under the Great Han banner.

The Great Han Empire's dominant position over the entire East Asian region was further consolidated. A new vassal-state system, full of aggression and uncertainty, was taking shape—this was also the Celestial Dynasty's proactive attempt to truly step out of the traditional comfort zone of the "Nine Provinces."