Chapter 431: The Khitan Lacks No Men of Foresight

In the eighth month of the fourth year of Qianyou in the Northern Han, the Lang troops of Hunan marched south to attack the false Chu king Ma Xichong, who had usurped power. Tanzhou Commander Xu Wei and others led troops to resist them, fought at Yiyang, were defeated and retreated, losing over a thousand men.

The false Chu king Ma Xichong had originally been elevated to the throne by his own subordinate officers. Lacking virtue and ability, and given to debauchery, he found himself trapped in Changsha with arrogant troops hard to control. Fearing the pressure of the Lang army and dreading that harm might come to him—that the axe might fall upon his neck—he secretly dispatched an envoy to present a memorial to the Tang requesting troops.

Likewise elevated by popular support, the King of Hengshan, Ma Xi'e, who occupied Hengzhou and cast covetous eyes upon Changsha, also requested aid from the Southern Tang, hoping for help in retaking Tanzhou.

The Ma brothers had presented their memorials one after another, adding another justification for launching a campaign—there could be no better timing. This time, the Tang army commander Bian Gao, who had long since received the Tang sovereign's approval, led thirty thousand troops westward from Yuanzhou toward Changsha.

The Tang army marched, passing Liling in five days. Upon hearing the news, the false Chu king Ma Xichong immediately sent envoys to reward the troops. In ten days they neared Changsha, and Ma Xichong presented a letter to the Tang camp begging to surrender and be spared, personally leading the Hunan officials and generals before the city walls. Watching the dust of their approach, he was defeated without a fight. Bian Gao accepted his surrender, and the Tang army was able to enter Changsha city with their armor rolled up, without losing a single soldier.

Next, Bian Gao widely distributed proclamations declaring the crimes of the Ma clan, and dispatched troops to garrison the various prefectures. At the time, Hunan was suffering famine, and Bian Gao ordered the granaries of the Ma clan to be opened wide to relieve the people. The Chu people, who had been living in deep water and scorching fire, were greatly pleased and offered no resistance to the Tang army's occupation.

Thus Bian Gao's entry into Chu was like splitting bamboo—all before him yielded to his momentum. The fertile lands all fell into his hands. The Lingnan region was temporarily out of reach, but Langzhou to the north and Hengzhou to the south were close at hand. He issued proclamations to win them over and sent troops to overawe them, hoping to bring them into submission. More importantly, he tallied military merits, inventoried the spoils, and sent word to Jinling to report victory and request rewards.

While Bian Gao was sweeping through Hunan, Liu Renshan, Deputy Military Governor of Wuchang in the Southern Tang, also led several thousand naval troops to take Yuezhou.

Reports of victory came in succession. Far away in Jinling, the sovereign and ministers of the Southern Tang, upon receiving news of Hunan's "pacification," were overjoyed beyond measure. With merit and great enterprise accomplished, the Tang sovereign Li Jing was pleased, and held a banquet in the Gui Hall of the Tang palace, where the hundred officials came to offer congratulations, with singing and dancing.

Seeing that Hunan had truly fallen so easily, Li Jing, who had been trembling with fear and full of suspicion, immediately stood tall—his back straightened, his voice grew sonorous. When a ritual official noted that since the Tang sovereign's accession he had never personally performed sacrifices at the suburban altars or ancestral temples, and requested that he do so, Li Jing answered with a single phrase: "When all under heaven is one family, then I will offer thanks and report."

Remonstrance Grand Master Wei Cen, attending the banquet, said: "In my youth I traveled to Yuancheng and delighted in its customs. When Your Majesty has pacified the Central Plains, I beg to be made Military Governor of Weibo." Li Jing granted his request.

With one stroke to take Chu, it seemed all under heaven could be settled. The swift transformation of the Southern Tang sovereign and ministers into arrogance and pride caught many by surprise.

Amidst this chorus of praise and glorification, it was not as though no one perceived the hidden dangers.

Diarist Gao Yuan said: "We took advantage of Chu's chaos and seized it with great ease. But looking at the abilities of our generals, I fear only that holding it will be difficult!"

The retired Minister over the Masses Li Jianxun said: "Is this not where the calamity begins?"

As for Han Xizai, he was nearly weeping as he reminded Li Jing that he must issue strict orders to the commanders in Chu to be vigilant, cautious, and prudent in their conduct, citing the old affair of "pacifying Min" as a warning, lest the land of Chu be gained only to be lost again.

However, in this atmosphere of universal celebration, how could such dissenting words gain Li Jing's attention? They only provoked his displeasure. In such circumstances, it was Feng Yansi who, perhaps recalling the embarrassment of having destroyed Min but been unable to hold it, losing all the fertile lands of Fu and Quan, also remonstrated with Li Jing—though more tactfully.

Only then did Li Jing issue an edict, rewarding the Tang army that had pacified Chu while also issuing instructions. To secure stability in Hunan, he ordered Bian Gao to relocate all members of the Ma clan to Jinling, where they would present their surrender.

After the Tang army seized Chu and swept through Hunan, the dark clouds that had long gathered over the north were finally about to release their rain.

Since the beginning of autumn, Khitan forces along the Tan and Ji line had intensified their harassment of Youzhou and the vast regions to its south, seizing grain and killing civilians.

To counter this, the Prince of Yan dispatched all several thousand cavalry under his command—cavalry against cavalry, mobility against mobility—fighting and slaughtering the Khitan horsemen across the Yan lands. The Han army was not spared either; the Cang and Ji line was also a key target of harassment. Acting on imperial orders, He Fujin, commander of the northern defense line, ordered each command to send out cavalry to fight.

Amidst the cruel flashing of blades and glinting of swords, the common people of every prefecture risked life and limb to hurriedly harvest the millet and wheat. Both the Han army and the Yan army paid no small price in casualties before managing to protect the harvest of a portion of the grain. Losses among both officials and commoners were considerable.

Of course, the Khitan gained little advantage either—their losses were equally heavy. In the month-long slaughter, the Han army and the Yan troops, in a rare display of setting aside all differences, united against the enemy. Their will to resist was resolute, their methods cruel. Ma Quanyi and Li Yun of the Han army, and Zhao Siwan of the Yan troops, saw their reputations soar.

Zhao Siwan was a man of unruly temperament—fierce, cruel, and bloodthirsty, harboring hostility toward the Han court. But in fighting the Khitan, he did play some role. Leading his tattooed-faced unit, he killed over seven hundred Khitan cavalry in total, taking no prisoners. He even genuinely enacted the old verse "in lofty ambition, hunger-fed on barbarian flesh," afterward remarking that the "barbarian stench" was too strong. Khitan soldiers near and far trembled at the very mention of Zhao.

But regardless, the Khitan's purpose in harassing had essentially been achieved.

In early September, the Khitan emperor Yelu Ruan assembled one hundred thousand troops from the inner and outer tribes, departing from the supreme capital Linhuang Prefecture, officially launching the southern campaign. Hampered by long-standing disputes and bickering with the Khitan nobles, even the final mobilization was forced through by Yelu Ruan against opposition.

Thus, from the very start of the march south, an atmosphere of discord hung over the great Khitan army. The nobles of the various tribes and even ordinary soldiers were full of complaints. Even with the Liao army's mobility, their marching speed was abnormally slow. Yelu Ruan urged the tribal troops forward several times to little effect, until finally he had to use his imperial guard to drive them on before the pace picked up.

By late September, the hundred-thousand-strong Khitan army had only reached the territory of Wende County in Wuzhou, encamping west of Wende at Huoshen Lake, a little over two hundred li from Youzhou city.

With a hundred thousand troops, the camp stretched over a dozen li, filled with the clamor of men and the neighing of horses. A portion of the Pishi Army firmly guarded the imperial tent. The Liao sovereign Yelu Ruan temporarily halted here, intending to reorganize the army and steady morale. His observations along the way had also given him some unease. The Pishi Army, as the imperial guard, had always been elite with strict discipline—he did not worry about them. It was the tribal soldiers summoned from the various tribes that truly needed placating.

On the day he arrived at Huoshen Lake, Yelu Ruan ordered an earthen altar to be raised and led the entire army in sacrificing to his father, the King of Dongdan, Yelu Bei, praying for the success of the southern campaign. This was not a good choice—had it been the Grand Ancestor Yelu Abaoji or Taizong Yelu Deguang, it might have had some effect. But after the ceremony was conducted, things seemed barely steadier.

A middle-aged general with a bitter expression, wearing noble military armor, rode his horse at a light canter through the vast southern campaign camp. His gaze swept around, falling upon the tribal soldiers nearby, and the worry already in his eyes visibly deepened.

This man was named Yelu Wuzhi, a renowned minister of the Khitan. Several years earlier, in the agreement known as the "Crossing Pact" between Yelu Ruan, who had gone north to seize the throne, and Empress Dowager Shulu and her son, he had played a major role, allowing the Khitan regime to transition smoothly.

After Yelu Ruan ascended the throne, mindful of his merits and abilities, he had entrusted him with increasing responsibility. This time, holding the post of Xiangwen of the Right Pishi Army, he accompanied the imperial campaign south.

But at this moment, Yelu Wuzhi's heart was filled with growing worries and deep apprehension. His concern came precisely from these Khitan tribal soldiers who had been conscripted for the campaign.

He still remembered that in his youth, when he had followed the Grand Ancestor on campaigns, the officers and men of every tribe had rejoiced at the prospect of battle, leaping with joy, donning armor and sharpening blades, afraid only of falling behind others. Even in Taizong's time, when they raided south into the Central Plains, they had been full of enthusiasm.

But now, looking around, all he saw were faces full of bewilderment and unsettled minds—some even voicing complaints out loud. As a man of vision and strategic insight, Yelu Wuzhi could keenly appreciate the gap between then and now.

From the time of Taizong Yelu Deguang to the present, the Khitan tribal people had been at war year after year for nearly a decade. All the tribes were exhausted by it, and the nation's strength had been greatly diminished. And the campaign to destroy Jin in those years—the disastrous defeat at the Battle of Luancheng, where the sovereign perished and the army collapsed—had been especially damaging to Khitan military power.

And the empire of the steppe was not like the Central Plains—its capacity for recovery was far inferior to that of agrarian civilization. Only with the former Bohai territories and the Han prefectures along the Great Wall as supplements had the Khitan been able to restore their strength to its current level over these years.

Under such circumstances, in Yelu Wuzhi's view, resting and recuperating, conserving strength, placating the tribal people, and easing internal conflicts should be the foremost priorities. Rashly mobilizing troops and taking up arms again—especially on such a massive scale—was truly not the act of a wise man.

The emperor's contradictions with the domestic nobles had grown ever deeper over governance issues, and the nobles and even the tribal people did not want war. With internal discord and an army lacking the will to fight—since ancient times, no army without the support of its soldiers' hearts had ever won a battle.

Although Yelu Wuzhi could understand some of Yelu Ruan's thoughts and considerations, he was, from the bottom of his heart, not optimistic about this southern campaign.

In Yelu Wuzhi's view, this was almost a gamble—a gamble staking the nation's fortune with enormous stakes. If it succeeded, the gains might not be as hoped; if it failed, the great momentum would be lost.

And this time's enemy—the Great Han, which occupied the Central Plains and Hebei—was clearly not so easy to deal with. Their emperor was the very commander of the "Luancheng Defeat," and he was not unprepared. South of Youzhou, he had built numerous fortresses and deployed large numbers of Han troops, and given the nation's strength, mobilizing another two to three hundred thousand troops was not out of the question.

The delays along the march had already caused them to miss the optimal timing for attack. Although Yelu Antuan had greatly harassed the northern regions of the Great Han, this year's Great Han was not like the previous two years, which had been plagued by natural disasters. One could imagine that in southern Hebei and the Central Plains, large quantities of grain had likely already been stored in granaries, soon to be converted into military provisions—the foundation of the Han court's confidence in dispatching troops.

And then there were the Yan troops occupying Youzhou—that too was a hard bone to gnaw. The Khitan had possessed that city for ten years and knew full well how it had been expanded, reinforced, and made formidable. With such a thorn stuck in the throat, how would they deal with it once battle was joined?

And besides...

More and more unfavorable factors swirled through his mind. Yelu Wuzhi unconsciously quickened his pace, nearly galloping his horse straight into the tent.

Though he knew he might not be able to dissuade him, he still intended to offer his counsel to His Majesty the Emperor once more. There was still time to pull back.