Chapter 76: A Great Talent Buried in Dust

The situation at Anyang was already extremely grim for Acting Military Governor Liang Hui. In recent days, facing the attacks of Gao Tangying's army, he had resisted with ease, handling it effortlessly — which had probably given him a false impression.

But when Yelu Deguang's main force arrived before the city walls, Liang Hui was stunned. Even though he cowered within the city, showing not the slightest desire to attack, the Khitan army did not withdraw northward as he had expected. Instead, they completely surrounded the city.

Seeing this formation, Liang Hui very decisively admitted defeat. He immediately sent men out of the city to confess guilt and surrender to the Liao army, sincerely declaring that he had never intended to obstruct the great army...

Seeing Liang Hui's tactfulness, Yelu Deguang said he would give him a chance — to have his men lay down their arms and leave the city, and come personally to the Liao camp to beg forgiveness.

Faced with this request, Liang Hui hesitated. He feared being tricked into the Liao camp and becoming fish on the chopping block. Moreover, seeing that the Khitan seemed willing to accept surrender, a small scheme arose in his mind — he actually began bargaining with Yelu Deguang.

Yelu Deguang was no ordinary man. He would never bother with the mentality of such a petty figure. Add to that the anger accumulated on the northward return and his physical discomfort, he had little patience left. He directly issued a stern order — having the Khitan army supervise the Jin army in assaulting the city.

This time, under the clearly hostile watchful eyes of the Khitan behind them, the surrendered Jin soldiers dared not hold back any longer.

Although Anyang city was fairly sturdy, the quality of the defending troops was worrying. The surrendered Jin soldiers had originally been mostly from the Shi Jin imperial army, so their combat effectiveness was still considerable — especially when pushed to that point, the offensive power they unleashed was something the city's righteous troops could not withstand.

At this, Liang Hui finally became fully sensible. He ordered white flags raised atop the walls, unreservedly expressing his wish to surrender, begging only to keep his life. However, this time Yelu Deguang flatly refused: no surrender accepted. At the same time, he issued another stern order to continue the assault, driving the righteous troops in Anyang city into a desperate dead end.

In the Khitan's Eastern Great Camp, within one of the several-li-long connected encampments, over a hundred surrendered Jin officials were doing rough labor under the direction of a squad of Khitan soldiers. At the slightest sign of slackness, the whip would fall without mercy.

These people were all officials of the various departments and offices of the former Shi Jin government, packed up and brought along by Yelu Deguang when the Liao army returned north. Those Shi Jin ministers with high office and great prestige might receive courteous treatment from the Khitan, but the majority of officials suffered greatly during this relocation.

Especially those of them who were minor clerks and petty officials — they could only earn their food through labor. Carrying loads, driving carts, feeding horses, splitting firewood, hauling water, pitching tents... they were basically used as coolies. The lower-ranking Khitan officers and soldiers showed them no courtesy, beating and cursing them from time to time.

Along the way, many had already been unable to bear the humiliation and suffering, taking their own lives. But more still had to endure in silence. Besides the desire to stay alive, many officials' wives and children had also been relocated north along with them, among the throng of captives. Burdened by the weight of their families, no matter how bitter, they had to bear it.

Wei Renpu was one of these Jin officials. He had originally been but a minor clerk in the Bureau of Military Affairs — a man of little standing and slight words — yet even he had not escaped this calamity of war. Yelu Deguang had nearly emptied the entire Shi Jin court of the Eastern Capital.

Compared to the others' wailing and complaining, their venting and grumbling, Wei Renpu was far more composed. He never put up any pointless resistance. Whatever work the Khitan told him to do, he never hesitated or refused, and he worked diligently and earnestly. In this camp, he was the only Jin official who had never been whipped or cursed at.

Wei Renpu, along with several frail Jin officials, was sorting and loading split firewood onto carts to be transported to other camps. His clothes were already tattered and worn, dust caked upon his beard, yet he paid it no mind at all, remaining unhurried and composed.

Only during the transport process would his eyes unconsciously scan the surroundings, recording in his mind information about the roads, guards, palisades, and stockades of the various Liao camps. He seemed to be pondering an escape route. Though the chances of success were slim, that did not stop him from entertaining the thought.

After toiling busily for a long while, he finally earned a moment of rest. Wei Renpu was no longer young, and his back ached and his bones creaked with fatigue — and all he had gotten in exchange was a meager ration of food from the Khitan military clerks.

Time had quietly entered the fourth month. The heat of the weather was no longer as gentle as spring's. Sitting quietly in the shade of a crowded tent, Wei Renpu slowly chewed on a coarse millet cake.

Four tents of no great size were used to house the camp's three hundred-odd Jin officials and their families, making it extremely cramped. The atmosphere inside the tent was oppressive, deathly still, so heavy it was hard to breathe.

Beside him, an official was dividing his ration between his wife and child. It was already little enough; split three ways, it became even less, nowhere near enough to fill their stomachs. The child was young but looked very sensible, with two clear, bright eyes. Even with a hungry belly, he did not fuss or cry, only huddling tightly in his mother's arms.

Wei Renpu knew this official — he had originally been a Registrar at the Court of Judicial Review. Seeing the state of this family, Wei Renpu sighed, handed him the remaining half of the cake in his own hand, patted him on the shoulder, and said nothing.

Holding the half cake, the official was stunned for a moment, but grief quickly welled up. Dividing the cake for his wife, he burst into sobs. The choked crying seemed contagious — soon, the previously lifeless tent was filled with desolate weeping.

Until the patrolling Khitan military clerks brutally suppressed it, and the weeping turned to silent tears.

Wei Renpu did not cry. He sat quietly, merely feeling somewhat fortunate that when the Khitan had come south last year, he had sent his wife back ahead to their hometown in Weizhou. His third son had only been born in the Eastern Capital last year.

Had it not been for his foresight back then, he would surely be dragging his family down with him today. After all, along this journey, many officials' relatives had already died of illness, exhaustion, or starvation due to the ordeal of the march...

Thinking of his loved ones, a trace of softness finally appeared on Wei Renpu's resolute face. Especially when he thought of his elderly mother at home, his heart filled with boundless melancholy.

His father had died early, and the family had been poor. His mother had raised him alone, supporting him through his studies until he completed his education. He remembered that year when, tearfully bidding farewell to his old mother, he crossed the Yellow River south toward Luoyang, swearing that if he did not achieve distinction, he would never cross back.

Yet after all these years of idling away in the Shi Jin court, he was still merely a petty scribe. Though he had a small measure of renown, there was nothing to be proud of. And now, captured by the Khitan, reduced to a state where he could not even be sure of seeing tomorrow — thinking of it, his bitterness was known only to himself.

Just as Wei Renpu was summoned to sort fodder, another burst of battle cries erupted from Anyang city. The sound of war drums thundering was clearly audible even from such a distance.

Amid his work, Wei Renpu unconsciously paused and looked westward. In these past few days, this was already the fourth assault. Through word spreading, Wei Renpu had come to understand the situation at Anyang.

Yelu Deguang's refusal to accept the city's surrender, and his method of driving surrendered soldiers to storm the walls, sent a chill through Wei Renpu's heart. Hearing the sounds of charging and killing from the west, a trace of sorrow appeared on Wei Renpu's face — he was by nature a kind and benevolent man. He sighed indignantly in his heart: "How ruthless is the Liao sovereign — he means to use this city to take the lives of our Han soldiers..."

"Move faster!" He had only been distracted for a moment when the supervising military clerk patrolling nearby arrived and barked at Wei Renpu.

Wei Renpu snapped back to his senses, swiftly gathering up all his emotions and throwing himself back into his work. They were all fish on the chopping block, at the mercy of others. At times like this, one could only pray for one's own fortune...