Chapter 643: West County

Xingyuan Prefecture of the Later Shu, West County.

To the south lay Dingjun Mountain, to the west the Ju River, a separate source of the Han River, directly facing the Chuanshu post road—it had now become a fortress resisting the Han army's invasion of Xingyuan Prefecture. The Later Shu had long enjoyed peace, and so had Hanzhong; though a standing army was maintained, military preparedness had inevitably fallen into disrepair.

Thus, when the Qinfeng campaign ended in total defeat and the flames of war drew near Hanzhong, this ordinary county town was clearly caught off guard, and the entire city plunged into an atmosphere of tense bustle and confusion.

Inside and outside the city walls, above and below, great numbers of conscripted laborers braved the cold wind, repairing the walls, moats, and watchtowers, urgently carrying out fortification works. At the ferry crossing west of the city, several rows of chevaux-de-frise had been set up as checkpoints, guarded by a full battalion of Shu troops who screened the refugees fleeing disaster.

Before the ferry landing, a crowd of people was packed together, carrying bundles large and small, supporting the elderly and leading the young by the hand, all in utter chaos—shouting, quarreling, and cursing without cease. Liu Chengyou had issued the order, and Xiang Xun led the army south; though the aim was to unify the realm, what it brought to the people of Shu first was war and displacement.

It was also because, since the two states had begun their standoff, the propaganda against the Shu people had been too fierce, demonizing the Han army to such a degree that when the troops arrived, the gentry and commoners of Hanzhong all fled for their lives. Since Li Tinggui and other Shu commanders had led their troops to fall back and hold West County, more than five thousand people had already fled south in their wake.

Of course, the increase in refugees also brought considerable defensive pressure to West County. The city's capacity was limited—it could not take in many people, the old, weak, women, and children had little value, and there was also the need to guard against Han spies infiltrating and causing trouble.

"All of you, line up and submit to inspection! Anyone who dares to barge through and make trouble will be treated as a Han spy!" Seeing the scene descending into chaos, the disputes unending, nearly spiraling out of control, a junior officer in charge of the ferry angrily strode forward, raised the whip in his hand, and lashed out at the several refugees crowded at the front.

The ferocity on his face seemed ready to devour people, but after a few lashes, the refugees at the front grew somewhat more obedient. Feeling the fear in the refugees' eyes, the junior officer's expression softened slightly; he cracked the whip a few more times and cursed: "A pack of base wretches, begging for a beating!"

"Where are you people from?" Hands on his hips, glaring at the several sturdy men crowded at the front, the junior officer demanded.

The men all looked fairly strong—the weak couldn't have pushed their way to the front. One of them had taken a lash to the face, the mark clearly visible, stinging with pain, but upon being questioned, he still answered in a rustic accent: "We all fled from Xing Prefecture!"

After observing them for a few moments, he called over soldiers to search their bundles—aside from a few ordinary clothes, there was only a small amount of iron coin. Seeing this, he silently cursed them for paupers, pocketed the money, tossed back the bundles, pointed at the open ground by the ferry, and ordered: "You lot, go wait over there."

"May I ask, sir, when will we be allowed to cross the river?" one man asked.

The answer was another round of scolding: "When I tell you to wait, you wait! What's all this nonsense, bothering me with your prattle!"

He ordered the soldiers to drive those men over to the side to wait, where several dozen able-bodied men had already been gathered.

"Those in the back, submit to inspection!" he barked.

Those following behind were clearly a group—they were better dressed, carried weapons, and drew suspicion. The leader, wearing a broad smile, stepped forward and familiarly pressed some lumps of silver into the officer's hand, explaining that he was a merchant from Nanzheng, that the men around him were his servants, and that they were fleeing home—and so on and so forth.

Money opening the way made all the difference—after a cursory inspection, they were still let through, but their weapons were all confiscated to strengthen military supplies. Nor did they suspect these men of being Han spies; spies wouldn't be so ostentatious.

And so, amid the crack of whips and shouts of abuse, quite a few people were still let through at the Ju River ferry. An inspection was almost a strip-search, and they always had to squeeze out some profit to supplement military funds.

Fleeing disaster was no easy business.

"Sir, this humble one..." An old man, leading a small child, ragged and weary, bowed and scraped.

The moment he opened his mouth, he received a lash from the inspecting Shu soldier, who cursed: "At your age, poor and decrepit, copying others and fleeing disaster—you really don't know your place!"

"Get lost!" Pointing at the pontoon bridge behind him, the soldier said contemptuously: "Once you cross the river, don't linger—leave West County as soon as you can!"

Time passed slowly, the winter wind grew ever more biting and cold, and the refugees gathered before the Ju River ferry finally thinned somewhat—but the atmosphere grew ever more tense, with a restless agitation, as if a fierce beast were about to strike.

Pointing at the hundred-odd able-bodied men gathered at the side, he ordered a squad leader: "Take these men to the foot of the city wall and hand them over to the trench commander!"

"Yes!"

Having given the order, he turned back to look at the nearly thousand refugees still packed before the ferry landing, his brows tightly knit. The junior officer's mood grew ever more irritable—he couldn't help it. The Han army might attack at any moment, and being posted at the ferry to screen refugees, though it allowed him to skim some profit, was far too dangerous, and with the current situation, of little real use.

"Make way! Make way!" Just then, he spotted several Shu cavalrymen galloping from afar along the post road, hooves pounding, not slowing even as they drew near.

The refugees scrambled to dodge, knocking over a whole swath of people, until the riders reined in before the chevaux-de-frise. These were Shu army couriers; the leader gasped for breath and shouted loudly: "Urgent military report from Xing Prefecture—we must cross the river to report! Move the barricades aside at once!"

But the junior officer did not order them let through; instead he stepped forward and asked first: "Brothers, how goes it in Xing Prefecture? Can you tell me?"

The courier glanced at him, his brows knitting, and refused: "This is urgent military intelligence—not something you may pry into!"

By now, morale in the Shu army was already wavering; the demoralization wrought by successive defeats made them less disciplined than usual. The junior officer said at once: "Just tell me—is Xing Prefecture still in our hands or not!"

"If you won't say, you're not crossing the river either—you can stay here and keep us company!"

Facing the junior officer's vicious glare, the courier felt somewhat helpless; he looked around, then could only lower his voice: "We were merely ordered to deliver the message. When we left, Shunzheng city had not yet fallen—but how it stands now, I don't know!"

Seeing that he didn't seem to be lying, the officer finally ordered them let through. The moment the barricades opened, a crowd of refugees behind surged forward, trying to force their way through. The soldiers on guard were ruthless enough—swinging their blades and leveling their spears, they inflicted heavy casualties. Several dozen lives were enough to sober the crowd again; in a moment the ferry landing grew quiet, and then, a moment later, the sound of mournful weeping rose up...

In the western city, within the garrison headquarters hall, Li Tinggui was discussing military affairs with Zhao Chongtao and Han Baozhen. The three were the most authoritative figures among the Shu forces in the north at present, and upon learning that a report had come from Xing Prefecture, they received the courier at once.

The courier's message was very clear: they had been sent by order of the Defense Commissioner of Xing Prefecture to report that the Han army was pressing the siege ever harder, that the city was about to fall, and that to preserve the lives of the city's soldiers and civilians, he intended to surrender—and asked that West County make preparations.

Hearing this, the three exchanged glances, their expressions growing ever more somber. Li Tinggui shook his head slightly and said with a bitter smile: "This Defense Commissioner An—before surrendering, he still sent someone to warn us. I suppose that counts as honoring the last of his friendship!"

"The people's hearts are lost!" Zhao Chongtao sighed.

Li Tinggui looked at the courier: "You rode all the way here to report the military situation—you've worked hard. Go rest, and eat your fill!"

"Thank you, Governor!"

"Shunzheng city's garrison was thin and its defenses weak—it was always meant to be a delaying city. Its fall was only a matter of time; that it held up the Han army these past few days is already remarkable!" Han Baozhen said with a stern face.

"Shunzheng is barely eighty li from West County, and the roads are fairly clear. Since Xing Prefecture has fallen, the Han army will reach this county town by tomorrow at the latest!" Li Tinggui said with a melancholy air: "We must make our preparations!"

"At present, though there are twenty thousand troops stationed in the western city, most are auxiliary soldiers and conscripted civilians. The troops who withdrew from the north are in disorganized units with low morale—the only ones fit to fight are the three thousand imperial army soldiers sent in support from Nanzheng..." Zhao Chongtao analyzed with a grave expression: "Though the Han army has not mobilized many troops this time, their edge is sharp and their momentum strong, and with Xiang Xun commanding in person—they will not be easy to deal with!"

"Regardless, at West County this time, we will absolutely not let the Han army have its way easily!" Li Tinggui said sternly, looking at Zhao and Han.

Pausing a moment, Li Tinggui's face grew ever more solemn, and he said: "Gentlemen, given West County's situation, holding it will still not be easy! For the strength of city walls, Nanzheng is still the best. I hope you two can return to Nanzheng to reorganize military preparations and city defenses. I will remain here to delay the Han army!"

"Brother Li, what do you mean?" Han Baozhen detected something unusual in Li Tinggui's tone.

A trace of bitterness appeared at the corner of his mouth as Li Tinggui sighed deeply: "I have received the favor of two generations of rulers, was elevated to commander, and given command of the great army—yet I cannot win in battle, cannot hold in defense, losing battle after battle, squandering troops and disgracing the state, until we have come to this point of peril, with the border situation growing ever more urgent. Having come to this state, I truly have no face to see His Majesty again. Nor do I seek His Majesty's pardon—I have only to fight to the death to repay the state's grace. Here at West County, I swear to live and die with this city!"

Li Tinggui spoke gravely, his will resolute, already set on death—this was plain from his eyes, and both Zhao Chongtao and Han Baozhen could feel it.